My name is James, and I am asking for your help to save my life.
I’m 55 years old and grew up in rural Loudoun County, Northern Virginia, during what I like to call the good ole days—the 80s. Life was simple, fun, and full of incredible memories. I’ve spent most of my career working in towing and carpentry, and I’ve always enjoyed staying active. When I’m feeling well, which unfortunately isn’t often these days, I love fishing, eating blue crabs (really, any seafood), watching football, listening to all kinds of music, being in nature, laughing, gardening, and spending time with friends and family. My mom was my best friend until her passing, and eight years ago, I reconnected with someone from my childhood who became the love of my life. We moved to Florida together in 2018.
In January 2025, I was diagnosed with end-stage liver disease. Since then, I’ve been hospitalized multiple times with complications. I deal with severe jaundice and constant fatigue. The ascites makes it painful and difficult to walk or even eat. My stomach and legs swell with fluid, which causes intense burning and itching. Because I can barely eat, I’m losing muscle and becoming malnourished, which only makes things worse.
This disease came without warning and turned our lives upside down. My wife and I are learning how to adapt, but it’s not easy. I have good days and hard days. The physical symptoms are tough, but the emotional toll is just as heavy. I often feel too embarrassed to go out in public due to the jaundice, skin changes, and muscle loss.
Not being able to work has been one of the hardest parts. Watching my wife take on everything we used to share as a team has been heartbreaking. I do what I can, but the pain and exhaustion usually win. I also deal with constant hunger, likely from my medications or lack of liver function, but I can only manage a few bites of food at a time. Most things just taste like salt now. My life revolves around medications, blood tests, hospital stays, and procedures.
I’m trying my best to stay hopeful. Your support could help lift some of the burden and give me the chance to keep fighting.
