"Victory starts here!"

Anyone who has been to Ft. Jackson in Columbia, SC, has heard this phrase, spoken by the Army guards when driving onto the base. Three and a half years ago, when I was at Ft. Jackson, collecting data with my work family for our research study, I had gone for an evening jog around the outdoor track after our work was over for the night. It was hot. And every time I tucked my chin down to look at the track, I had an electric sensation travel down my back and into my legs that were themselves going numb. I whipped out my phone and asked Dr. Google what ailed me. I didn't want to believe it, but the sensation was called Lhermitte's Sign, and it meant I had Multiple Sclerosis. I instantly knew life was going to get harder. What I didn't know at the time was that very instant, on the track, was the beginning of my healing journey. Admission into the hospital for a spinal tap and MRI, diagnosis, best available drug, relapses and failure of best available drug, visits to Cleveland Clinic, admission for a stem cell transplant, 20 bags of chemo and a brutal year-long course of complications, near death scares, leaving the hospital in a wheelchair, ditching the wheelchair, walking 50 feet, walking 100 feet, ditching the walker, ditching the walking poles, remaining secluded in the pandemic, entering life again, seeing my friends again, feeling great again, and then this week...collecting data at Ft. Jackson with my work family again. Tonight, on the eve of the second anniversary of my stem cell transplant, as we concluded our data collection, I went to the very same track. I ran a victory lap. I held my hands so high in the air and thought of every single one of you. I carried you with me around the track, as you had all carried me...to Victory!

Love, Julie