When I arrived in the USA, I first started working for Uber Eats. The earnings were modest — about $100 a day. I was looking for another job, but due to my physical weakness, I couldn’t handle hard tasks or stand for long periods, so most options were automatically ruled out.

The only way out was to become a truck driver. I enrolled in a course and got my CDL in just two and a half weeks. I really liked the idea of driving a truck and earning good money. My first company was based in Chicago. I was so enthusiastic about my new job that I could stay on the road for five weeks without returning home. Although my physical weakness was noticeable, it wasn’t severe enough to make me quit.

The first month was tough: I got into three minor accidents. However, I didn’t give up, thanks to the support of my parents and my aunt. I was earning decent money, but I got caught in a trucking market downturn, so I didn’t see the “crazy” money I was hoping for.

Then conflicts with my ex-wife over the divorce began. It took a toll on my nerves, and that was when my legs completely gave out for the first time — for a month and a half. This happened while I was in Albania. I had no idea how I would get back to the USA since I couldn’t walk. A friend was waiting for me there, expecting me to start working with him, and I couldn’t let him down.

In despair, I began to pray sincerely, asking God for help. And believe it or not, on the very last evening before my flight, I got up and walked. I passed through four airports, and in Chicago, a guy pushed me in a wheelchair (God bless him! I’m very grateful to him!).

After landing in Sacramento, God led me on His path, and it was perfect. I essentially started my life from scratch: a new job, a new home, a girlfriend, and friends. The only difference was that I started walking much less, but at least I was still walking.

I loved my job and lived for it, but over time, I realized that I wanted more than just being a truck driver. Physically, it became increasingly difficult to work. I didn’t admit to anyone that I was showering in the truck itself because it was too hard to walk to the truck stop. Once, during an inspection, I fell and couldn’t get up. My friend came to pick me up, but on the way, he kept insulting me with words. It was already hard enough, and his words made it even worse.

I wanted to quit, but I was held back by the fear of the unknown and financial instability. Three years passed. The truck I was driving broke down — the transmission failed. It was sent for repairs, and I waited for two months. When I called my friend, he told me he would look for another driver because it would be more profitable for him that way.

That’s how my career as a truck driver ended, and a new life began.

Thank you, God, for helping me move on

After feeling unwell, I decided to completely quit smoking cigarettes. At that time, I was experiencing severe dizziness, anxiety, and shortness of breath. For three months, I barely left the house, except for visits to the hospital due to stomach pain. The doctors diagnosed me with gastritis.

Interestingly, smoking had been masking the problem to some extent. Nicotine has a mild analgesic effect, so I didn’t realize anything was wrong for a long time. However, when I quit smoking, the pain became evident, and I understood how much my stomach had been affected.

To deal with the illness, I went on a strict diet that lasted two years. It was a challenging period: I lost 10 kilograms, and my friends often asked, “What happened? Are you okay? Why have you lost so much weight?”

During this time, I completely eliminated alcohol, coffee, and any foods that could harm my stomach. The diet helped, but back then, I didn’t think about the connection between gastritis and my overall health. Only now, as I write these lines, I find myself asking, “Could multiple sclerosis be somehow linked to stomach issues and inflammation?”

Hi everyone! My name is Yurii. My journey with multiple sclerosis began 15 years ago at the gym. While wrestling with a friend, I suddenly felt dizzy and weak. I was terrified, but the doctors only gave me an injection and sent me home. Afterward, I went outside to smoke.

The next episode happened at a café called ‘Chocolate’ in Chernivtsi, Ukraine, where I lived until I was 29. Back then, at 18 years old, I smoked and drank a lot—it felt like the age to try everything. It was a warm summer evening, and I was smoking Marlboro Gold and drinking coffee. Whenever I smoked, I often had bad headaches, but I didn’t understand the harm I was doing to myself. At the time, it felt ‘cool’ to be a young guy smoking.

I’m starting my fight against multiple sclerosis! This blog is about it.