As an aside, do you realize just how NOT SEXY a fatty liver is? I mean, sickness isn’t sexy in any situation, but telling someone you have a fatty liver is like putting all your embarrassing faults and habits out on display for public judgement.
You eat like trash.
You are a slovenly, sedentary lump.
You have no willpower.
You have no goals or ambitions or focus.
You’re generally disgusting.
Oh. Bad liver? You must be a raging alcoholic.
Hate to break it to everyone, though, but some studies have estimated one-quarter to one-third of the population have an undiagnosed fatty liver. For many people, there are never symptoms. I only realized mine when they did CT scans looking for something else and then saw abnormal bloodwork. Oh, by the way, you have a fatty liver. (Insert the words you know are coming: Lose weight. Exercise.)
You know what’s even more unsexy? And downright scary? The abbreviation I saw in my doctor’s post-visit notes as she was sending for the GI consult: NASH. That stands for Nonalcoholic Steatohepatitis, and it’s defined as “the liver manifestation of a metabolic disorder…and the most severe form of NAFLD (nonalcoholic fatty liver disease).” I have not been diagnosed with this, but my docs are concerned enough about what they saw on that CT scan that they ordered the GI consult. The way to formally diagnose NASH is through further testing: ultrasound, MRI, something called elastography, and—the gold standard but more invasive—a liver biopsy.

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