NFL star Chris Johnson opens up about his life-changing ALS diagnosis and the devastating progression of the disease, revealing whether he thinks his years playing football contributed to his condition. Using his eyes to control a speech-generating device, the former running back describes the heartbreak of having his mind remain “completely there” while his body loses the ability to perform everyday tasks. Johnson reflects on the toll ALS has taken on his entire family, his determination to remain present as a husband and father and his hope for more time with the people he loves. His wife, Brittany, shares how becoming his primary caregiver has changed her life and why she believes supporting him through this fight is her calling. Together, they offer an intimate look at the reality of living with ALS while raising awareness of the disease and holding on to the person Johnson has always been.
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A former NFL player shares his journey after being diagnosed with ALS. He describes the subtle onset of symptoms, the emotional toll of the diagnosis on his family, and the daily challenges of losing physical independence. Despite the hardship, he uses his platform to advocate for urgent research and better treatments to help other families facing the disease.
Going from being one of the fastest people in the NFL to needing somebody to help me with
basic things is hard to explain unless you've lived it. ALS may change what my body can do,
but it hasn't changed who I am.
My days look completely different than they used to. ALS has taken away a lot of my independence,
especially with my arms and hands, so I need help with things I never would have thought
twice about before. I'd be in the gym and notice my right hand wasn't as strong
as it had always been. I couldn't grip or lift the way I normally could,
and it just didn't feel right. I mentioned it to Brittany a few times, but we both figured
maybe I had pinched a nerve or it was just wear and tear from playing football for so many years.
It wasn't until we were taking the kids on spring break and we were riding in the car,
I'll never forget, he mentioned that the Stanley Cup that he always carried around for water
was really heavy to him. He felt like when he drunk a couple sips of water,
he needed to put the cup down, and that's when I really felt like that is weird because, you know,
yeah, it has a little weight to it, but nothing that you should have to put down, you know,
after a couple sips. I could tell that really scared her. It was the first time either of us
realized this wasn't just an old football injury. From that moment on, Brittany went into action.
She started calling every doctor she knew and made it her mission to figure out what was going on.
Looking back now, that conversation with my Stanley Cup was really the moment everything
changed. I think when he saw that I was taking it serious and I was afraid, he called the team doctor
that worked for the Titans when he played, and he got him in with a neurologist immediately,
and he flew out, I want to say, within a week. I walked into what I thought was going to be
a routine nerve conduction study because I assumed something minor was causing the weakness
in my hand. Instead, the doctor handed me a packet of paper, said,
this could be something serious, and walked out of the room. There was no explanation.
My mind went to my wife, my kids, and my family. I kept thinking, this has got to be wrong.
No one should ever receive news like that. We have to do better when it comes to
how life-changing diagnoses are given. I was at work, and of course, I'm calling and checking,
like, what are they saying? Like, what is it? And he was like, I don't know. I said,
send me a picture of the papers, and at the top it said, possible interior horn cell disease.
And I had never heard of that before, and I googled it, and as soon as I googled it,
it said ALS. I immediately just panicked, you know, that they thought that it could be that.
Went and saw a local neurologist, and he mentioned that Chris didn't sound normal,
that it sounded like he was kind of talking through marbles, and he had been complaining
that he felt like he had, like, cold in the back of his throat that he just couldn't clear.
And so I just associated it with that. He mentioned, like, some muscle loss between
his thumb and his pointer finger, and that day, he kind of let us know that he thought that maybe
it was ALS, but we would need to go to an ALS neurologist. And I think within a week, we were
there, and he didn't really confirm it that day, but also let us know that he thought that it was
that. We were just left sitting with it and hoping that it wasn't true and that it had to be something
else, you know. We were just, I think, in a state of shock and denial. The changes were just so
subtle that you don't think in your mind that it's something as serious as ALS.
Football has come up throughout this process when we talk with doctors,
because I played the game basically my whole life and spent 10 years in the NFL.
That's a big part of my history. As soon as you mention your career in football, they kind of
just say, well, yeah, you know. So it's kind of said without being said that maybe they think
that it is associated with the diagnosis, but it's not anything that they confirm.
I don't think it would be right for me to say football caused my ALS because I don't know that,
but I also don't think you can ignore the question. I think the possible connection
between football, repeated trauma, and neurological diseases needs to continue to be studied
so players and their families can have better answers.
We actually didn't start telling family and friends for a long while. I think I was afraid,
and at that point we were really focused on trying to understand what this diagnosis meant
and searching for every treatment option we could find. Eventually, we knew we had to tell
the people closest to us, especially the kids. That was probably one of the hardest parts because
as a father, your first instinct is to protect your kids. You don't want them to be scared
or feel like their whole world is changing. It was at least a year before we let them know
exactly what the diagnosis was. It was really tough.
The kids all handled it differently, and we've tried to be honest with them
without making ALS the center of their lives. I still want them being kids,
going to school, playing sports, and chasing whatever dreams they have.
Brittany helps me with pretty much everything throughout the day. I use breathing support
and other equipment at home, and eating and communicating take more planning now too.
There are appointments, treatments, and therapies mixed into everything.
It's non-stop. There's no breaks, but I wouldn't rather it be anyone else taking care of Chris.
My life has changed immensely, but I truly believe that this was my calling.
The hardest part is having your mind still completely there while your body stops doing
things you've done your entire life. I'm still me. I still hear everything. I understand everything.
I still joke, think, make decisions, get frustrated, and want to be included in conversations
about my own life. I still love football. Football changed my life and gave me opportunities I could
never have imagined growing up. When I came into the league, I was a kid from Orlando
trying to prove myself, and Tennessee gave me some of the greatest moments of my career.
Those memories are part of who I am, so I don't look at what I'm going through and say,
my kids shouldn't play because of it. But as a father, of course, I think about things differently
now. I want them to understand the risks, take care of their bodies, and never feel like they
have to sacrifice their health just to prove how tough they are. If football is what they love and
that's the path they choose, I'm going to support them. He always just says as long as they enjoy it
that he wants them to be able to do what they love, of course not at the expense of their bodies.
It is something that I think about and it's something that I worry about, but they've been
so engulfed in it most of their lives that they don't want to stop. More than anything, I want my
kids to be healthy, happy, and able to build lives they love, whether football is part of that or not.
Today my dad took me on a shopping spree. Let's see what you got. If spreading our story helps,
get eyes on this disease, that people can see just how quickly your life can change,
that it can literally happen to any one of us, and there's no treatments out there. We just need all
hands on deck. We need so many eyes on this so other families don't have to endure what we have.
At first I wanted to keep it private, but ALS is bigger than me. Once you get diagnosed,
you realize how many families are dealing with this disease and how badly we need better
treatments and more options. I have a platform because of football and if sharing my story can
bring more attention, help push research forward, or help another family going through this,
then there's a purpose in doing it. People with ALS don't have years to wait for promising
treatments to slowly make their way through the system. Time matters. I want to see my kids grow
up. I want to see the boys accomplish everything they're working toward. I want to watch honey
grow up, graduate, and one day walk her down the aisle. I want more years with my wife,
and I'm hopeful because we're fighting. We're not sitting around waiting for ALS to
decide what happens next. We're always talking to doctors and looking at research,
treatments, trials. I don't know which treatment or discovery is eventually going to change things,
but I believe somebody is going to figure this disease out. Until then,
I'm going to keep fighting to be here for my family. That's what gives me hope.