Loving Someone Through Fatty Liver Disease - My Husband's Journey

My husband, Kieron, was never one to complain. He was strong, reliable, and always put our family first. So, when his health began to deteriorate, it felt like the ground shifted beneath my feet. We had been married for over 20 years, raising our two kids together and living what felt like a normal life. Fatty liver disease wasn’t even on our radar—until it turned our world upside down.

It started with Kieron mentioning how bloated he felt. We thought it was just a bad reaction to some food or maybe stress from work. But when his stomach kept growing, it was clear that something wasn’t right. After visiting the doctor, they drained several liters of fluid from his abdomen, which was terrifying to see. It was then that we were told he had cirrhosis of the liver, even though he didn’t drink.

"I didn’t even know it was possible to have cirrhosis without alcohol."

Kieron never touched a drop of alcohol in his life, so this diagnosis felt like it came out of nowhere. I felt like I had failed to protect him, even though I knew it wasn’t my fault. We were both left in shock, trying to understand how this could have happened.

From that point on, Kieron’s life became a whirlwind of doctor appointments, medications, and draining hospital visits. Every few weeks, we would head to the hospital for them to drain more fluid. Kieron was always upbeat, even when it was clear he was getting weaker. He focused on what he could control—his diet. He switched from the sugary drinks he loved to water, cut out processed foods, and embraced fresh fruits and vegetables. But no matter how much he tried, his body just wasn’t responding the way we hoped.

"Seeing him waste away, despite doing everything right, was heartbreaking."

There was this moment, about two months into his diagnosis, when Kieron looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, “I don’t want you to see me like this.” That broke me. This man who had always been my rock was scared and feeling vulnerable, and there was nothing I could do to take that away.

Things took a darker turn when Kieron started acting strangely. He was confused, forgetting simple things, and lashing out at me, something he had never done before. At first, I thought it was just the stress getting to him, but it was something much worse.

"He tried to use a napkin as a phone. That’s when I knew something was terribly wrong."

It turned out that his liver disease had led to hepatic encephalopathy, a condition that causes confusion and mood changes because the liver can’t filter toxins properly. Watching Kieron slip away mentally was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to endure. Some days, he would look at me and smile like everything was normal, and other days, he didn’t know who I was.

Despite everything, Kieron never gave up hope. He was determined to fight and even made it onto the liver transplant list. We were hopeful when two offers came in, but both times, the livers weren’t viable. Then, the doctors gave us the devastating news—he was too weak to survive a transplant. They removed him from the list, and it felt like our last shred of hope had been ripped away.

"I watched the love of my life slowly slip away."

In the final weeks of Kieron’s life, I spent every day at the hospital, trying to make him comfortable. Some days he would tell me he loved me, and other days he didn’t recognize me. The day before he passed, he tried to touch my face, a small, tender gesture that felt like his way of saying goodbye. I will never forget that moment.

Now, as I try to navigate life without him, I am constantly reminded of how short and fragile life can be. Our kids are struggling to understand what happened, and I wish I had more answers for them. I wish we had known sooner, that we had caught it earlier. But most of all, I wish Kieron was still here.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all of this, it’s that liver disease isn’t just something that happens to people who drink. It can affect anyone, and it’s so important to be aware of the signs, even when they’re subtle. I tell everyone I can to get their liver checked because no one should have to go through what we did.