For the first time since he bought it, T.J. Hawthorne shut off his phone. He shut the door. He closed out the world. But from his computer, he reached out to it.
By hitting the "Share" button on his Facebook page, Hawthorne released his secret. For months, his liver was failing and now it was now dangerously damaged.
Resources were scarce; there were issues with his health insurance coverage. He'd been out of work for months. What once was a gleeful skip through life, as he described it, became a daily routine of rationing out medications until he could afford more.
"I had a very full and rich and at times lucky — at times charmed — life," he said. "I grew up in a great family and never wanted for anything. I landed in an industry that cares about the people in it."
This was a week and a half ago. Until then, most of Hawthorne's family never knew of the January diagnosis of liver disease. They did not — could not — watch him lose weight. Any time he was too weak to drive himself to the grocery store, the 13-year Burbank resident relied on a few close friends and neighbors.