It is a heavy show. Literally and emotionally. When you sit down to watch TLC, you expect a transformation, maybe a few tears, and a happy ending where someone walks into a grocery store for the first time in a decade. But the stakes are higher than reality TV usually allows. Because the patients Dr. Nowzaradan treats are often at the absolute edge of human physiological limits, the question of who has died from My 600 lb Life isn't just morbid curiosity. It’s a reflection of how dangerous morbid obesity actually is.
People die. It happens more often than the network probably likes to admit.
Since the show premiered in 2012, we have seen dozens of stories. Most people find a new lease on life. They lose 400 pounds and start hiking or dating. But for a significant handful, the damage to their hearts and lungs was already too far gone. You can’t always outrun—or out-diet—a lifetime of strain on the body.
The faces we lost and what really happened
Henry Foots was the first. He was in Season 1. He was such a gentle soul, honestly. He actually died about a year after his episode aired, but it wasn't directly because of a weight loss surgery complication in the way people assume. He passed away in May 2013. The official cause wasn't widely blasted across tabloids, but he had a medical event while driving a shuttle bus. He was a success story, though. He’d lost a massive amount of weight. It just goes to show that even when you "win" the battle against the scale, the secondary health issues can linger in the shadows.
Then there was Robert Buchel. His story was devastating.
Robert is often remembered because he actually died during the filming of his episode in 2017. He was only 41. He had a massive heart attack. If you watch that episode, you see the pure exhaustion in his eyes. He had an addiction to painkillers that complicated everything. Dr. Now is blunt—he has to be—and he warned Robert that his heart was a ticking time bomb. It’s one of the few times the show feels less like "entertainment" and more like a tragedy unfolding in real-time.
Kelly Mason's passing was similar. She died in 2019, also while filming. She was just a few weeks away from her birthday. She had heart failure. It’s a recurring theme here: the heart. Imagine a pump designed for a 180-pound person trying to move blood through 700 pounds of tissue. It wears out.
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Why the "Success" rate is so complicated
Let’s talk about the others. You might remember James "L.B." Bonner. His death was different and hit the fan base incredibly hard because it wasn't a physical health failure in the traditional sense. He died by suicide in 2018.
L.B. was a fan favorite. He was motivated. He was kind. He actually succeeded in losing the weight. But his passing highlighted a massive gap in how we treat obesity: the mental health aspect. You can cut the stomach, but you can't "cut" the depression or the trauma that caused the overeating in the first place. When the food—the primary coping mechanism—is taken away, what’s left? Sometimes, it's a void that's too big to fill.
Robbie Johnson and his brother were on the show together. Tragically, Robbie passed away in 2021. Then there was Coliesa McMillian. She had complications after surgery. Her story is a stark reminder that weight loss surgery is major surgery. It’s not a "quick fix." It’s risky.
Here is a list of some of the participants who are no longer with us:
- Henry Foots (Season 1): Died in 2013.
- Robert Buchel (Season 6): Died in 2017 during filming.
- L.B. Bonner (Season 6): Died in 2018.
- Lisa Fleming (Season 6): Died in 2018.
- James King (Season 5): Died in 2020 after ongoing health struggles.
- Gina Krasley (Season 8): Died in 2021.
- Destinee LaShaee (Season 7): The show's first transgender star, passed away in 2022.
The numbers are grim, but they represent real people.
The Dr. Now Factor: Tough love or too much?
You see the memes. Dr. Nowzaradan telling someone, "You are not malnourished," when they claim they haven't been eating. It’s funny on the internet, but in the clinic, it's life and death.
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The patients who don't make it usually fall into two categories. First, there are those whose bodies simply give out. Organ failure, sepsis, or pulmonary embolisms. The second group consists of those who can’t break the addiction. They stop following the "de-plant" (the 1,200 calorie high-protein, low-carb diet). They miss appointments. They disappear from the program.
Sean Milliken is a prime example of the struggle. He appeared on the show several times. He lost his mother, who was his primary caregiver and—some would argue—his enabler. Without her, he spiraled. He died in 2019 at age 29. Twenty-nine. That’s the reality of who has died from My 600 lb Life. It’s often young people who just couldn't find a way to live without the comfort of food.
Misconceptions about the surgery deaths
A lot of people think the surgery itself is what kills them. That’s actually pretty rare. Most of these deaths happen months or years later. The surgery is just a tool. If the patient has underlying lymphedema, massive infections, or advanced heart disease, the surgery can put a strain on the system, sure. But the "silent killer" is usually the years of damage done before they ever met Dr. Now.
Take James King. He was one of the most controversial figures on the show because he struggled so much with the diet. His legs were in terrible shape—massive infections and skin issues. He died in 2020 of kidney and liver failure. It wasn't the gastric bypass; it was the total systemic collapse of a body that had been pushed too far for too long.
The Mental Health Crisis in Weight Loss
The show has been criticized. Heavily. Some former participants have even sued the production company, Megalomedia. They claim the show didn't provide enough psychological support or that they were pressured for the sake of drama.
Whether those lawsuits hold water is for the courts to decide, but the point remains: the mortality rate on this show is a reflection of a medical crisis. When we look at who has died from My 600 lb Life, we see people like Destinee LaShaee. Destinee was open about her struggles with mental health. Her death in 2022 was a tragedy that sparked a lot of conversation about how the show handles the "aftercare" part of the journey.
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Losing weight changes your body, but it also changes how the world treats you. That transition can be jarring. Sometimes, it’s even traumatizing.
What we can actually learn from this
It’s easy to judge. We watch from our couches and wonder why they can’t just stop eating. But addiction is a monster.
If there is any takeaway from the lives lost on the show, it’s that obesity isn't a character flaw. It’s a complex medical and psychological condition. The people who passed away weren't "failures." They were people fighting a war against their own biology and history.
For those looking at these stories as a cautionary tale or seeking help for themselves, the "actionable" part isn't just "eat less." It's more nuanced than that.
- Get a therapist first. Before the surgery, during the weight loss, and after the goal is reached. Food is often a mask for trauma. If you remove the mask without healing the wound, the result is dangerous.
- Heart health is the priority. Don't just focus on the number on the scale. Blood pressure and cardiac strain are what usually cause the fatalities in the super-morbidly obese population.
- Support systems matter. Look at the difference between patients with supportive families and those with "enablers." It is almost impossible to do this alone.
The legacy of the people who died shouldn't just be their weight. It should be the awareness they brought to how difficult this journey really is. It’s not a TV show to them. It’s a fight for one more day.
To truly understand the risks and the path forward, anyone struggling with severe weight issues should prioritize a multidisciplinary approach that includes a cardiologist, a registered dietitian specializing in bariatrics, and a trauma-informed therapist. Focus on metabolic health indicators—like A1C and blood pressure—rather than just the aesthetic of weight loss, as these are the true markers of longevity for those who have lived at these extreme weights.