G35: three signs that scattered the entire calendar

When she heard the three letters – G35 – on October 14, 2022, she had no idea yet that behind this dry codification was the beginning of a whole new chapter. The diagnosis of multiple sclerosis came suddenly, shattering daily life, plans, harmony and inner security. This essay is a personal, deeply moving testimony of Justyna Rodziewicz – a mother, a teacher, a woman who learned to speak to herself again.

Letter to the Editor: Dear Editor,

I write because sometimes words are the only thing that work out better than plans.

My name is Justyna, I am 39 years old, and I would like to share with you a personal text I wrote after my multiple sclerosis diagnosis. It is an attempt to capture the emotions that accompany the sudden collision with a chronic disease – between facial and speech paralysis and trying to catch my breath in a new reality.

The text is titled “G35: three signs that scattered the entire calendar,” and was born out of a need to tell something that might resonate with other women as well.

Hospital.

Friday, October 14, 2022.

Diagnosis: multiple sclerosis.

After an extensive medical history and an MRI of the head and spinal cord, a proud-sounding code was entered in the patient’s chart: G35 – as if it were the model of a new phone, not the onset of a chronic disease. Several fresh inflammatory foci – paralysis of the left side of the face, numbness of the hand, paresis of the hand, massive hypersensitivity of the scalp, speech disorders. As a bonus, several dormant lesions that (I now know) gave signals earlier, but I ignored them thinking it was fatigue, summer heat and stress.

The hospital staff rose to the challenge – I was given time to process the words I had heard and an isolated space to cry like I had never done before. They also offered to talk to an experienced psychologist.

I refused. What would I have to say?

Good morning, my name is Justyna and I am a little sad because at 2:13 pm my safe world collapsed?

Hello, I’m from room number seven; will you let me break down quietly here because I’m not hitting my finger on the nose, and my hand just stopped being mine?

How about: Hey, please, here’s my diagnosis. Do you have any promotions on wheelchairs and orthoses at the hospital store?

In my head – in addition to numerous inflammations – I had only one big question mark: WHAT’S NEXT? Is there anything at all still ahead of me?

It’s bizarre when a rational character, even the most hard-headed, suddenly begins to bargain with reality. How desperately he looks for shortcomings in the system when the system suddenly becomes a judgment.

I thought: This must be a mistake. Someone surely mixed up another patient’s test results with mine. After all, there is NO history of neurology in my family. They have a lot of patients, beds in the hallway, and someone mixed up the patient’s charts. IT-CAN’T-BE-TRUE.

Pthence I have my beloved Peter, my beautiful girls, a cheerful dog. At work the same healthy colleagues. In a month, the birthday of the world’s best dad. Bathroom renovation we were supposed to do after all. Okay – I like white wine, but I also eat healthy pods and nuts. I listen to Male Grania, clean the whole house every Thursday, do Polish homework with my young, drive my car and work! This CANNOT be true. This cannot apply to ME!

72 hours later: lumbar puncture, an ocean of further tests.

Monday, October 17, 2022.

Diagnosis: multiple sclerosis, the projective-remission form.

They say: Do you want to make God laugh? Tell him about your plans.

I have a conviction bordering on certainty that the more carefully and tightly we weave this life of ours with colorful threads of relationships, work, pleasures and successes, the more painful it becomes that reality does not recognize our plans or calendars.

But maybe not everything that falls apart into a million pieces disappears forever. Maybe some pieces just change shape. Maybe life doesn’t fall apart for no reason. Maybe sometimes it needs to be disassembled to see what was really at play inside.

I dream of one day looking back and saying: this was not the end of a melody, but only a change of key. The beginning of a new song – new, but still mine.

This post opens the series “Guest post ” – a space for women who want to share what is real: emotions, experience and reflection. For those who – despite illness, life changes, motherhood or burnout – are looking not only for medicine, solutions or answers, but also for meaning, community and a language with which to describe the difficult – and the beautiful.

At GentleWoman.eu, we believe that every woman has a story worth hearing. If you want to share it – get back to our editorial team [email protected], in the title of the email add “Guest post”.

Author of “G35: three signs that scattered the entire calendar” Justyna Rodziewicz – a mother, a teacher, a woman who experienced a life turning point after a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. In her moving essay, she shares not only the emotions of the first days after hearing the diagnosis, but also the inner strength she draws from her relationships, everyday life and writing. Her voice is a story of fragility, which can become a source of new strength.

Find more inspiring stories at www.gentlewoman.eu – a women’s website about health, relationships, emotions and conscious living.