Just like that, my body decided it was time for a plot twist.

I had planned for this post to be light-hearted and fun, but as life with Multiple Sclerosis often reminds me — sometimes we don’t get to stick to the script. And because I try to keep things real and transparent here, I’m pivoting. My hope is that by sharing what I’m walking through, it might help someone else who finds themselves facing a similar road.

The Call I Didn’t Expect

Most days, I just go about my life — doing my best to keep MS in its corner while I stay in mine. But then, out of the blue, I got that call from my neurologist’s nurse. My stomach dropped before I even answered.

For over 12 years, I’ve been on a disease-modifying therapy called Tysabri (Natalizumab). Every six months, I do a routine blood test to check for something called the JC Virus (JCV) — nothing new, just part of the program. I’ve had about 30 of those tests over the years and every single time, I’ve been negative. Until now.

What’s the JC Virus Anyway?

According to WebMD, the JC Virus (short for John Cunningham Virus) is a common germ — more than half of all adults have been exposed to it. It usually lies dormant and harmless, hiding in places like the urinary tract or bone marrow. But if your immune system is weakened, it can wake up and cause trouble — serious trouble.

For people like me, who take immune-suppressing medications such as Tysabri, testing positive for JCV changes everything. When that positive result came back, my treatment plan came to a sudden stop.

The Three Little Letters That Terrify Most of Us with MS

The scary part of being JCV positive is something called PML — Progressive Multifocal Leukoencephalopathy.

Just saying those words gives me chills. PML is a rare brain infection that can cause severe disability or death. The risk is extremely small — but when you’ve lived more than a decade managing MS, “small” still feels terrifying.

Gone are the days of being JCV-negative. Now, I’m JCV-positive — and that means some of my safest treatment options are off the table. It’s a new chapter I didn’t ask for, and truthfully, I’m still processing it all.

The MRI Wait Game

When I first found out, I was told to come in for an emergency MRI. Sitting there in that loud, clanging tube, I tried to focus on my breathing and not let my mind spiral. I prayed. I bargained. I worried.

Thankfully, the results came back clear — no signs of PML. But my neurologist, who I trust completely, said that given my high JCV number, staying on Tysabri is no longer an option. So, it’s time to move on — ready or not.

Enter: Mavenclad

Next up on this journey is a medication called Mavenclad. It’s a pill (which already feels like a small victory compared to monthly IV infusions), and it works by reducing certain white blood cells that are believed to play a role in MS.

It’s a bit scary to start something new, especially when the side effects list reads like a medical thriller, but my doctor has never steered me wrong. And honestly, faith has carried me this far — so I’m trusting it will carry me through this, too.

The Pros (as I See Them)

• No more monthly infusions — just two short courses of pills a year.
• The flexibility of taking it at home.
• The hope that it will keep my MS quiet, just like Tysabri did for so many good years.

The Cons (and Real-Life Worries)

Like all MS meds, Mavenclad comes with its own set of risks — from lowering your immune system to potential infections and (gulp) even the possibility of increased cancer risk. Oh, and the cost… let’s just say it’s a good thing I have insurance.

Still, I’m holding on to optimism — because if there’s one thing MS has taught me, it’s how to pivot with grace, even when it’s hard.

Moving Forward with Faith

I don’t know what the next few months will look like. There will be new routines, new labs, and probably a lot of anxious waiting. But I also know this: every time life forces me to change direction, it’s led me to some kind of growth — even when it didn’t feel like it at first.

So, here’s to this next chapter. Scary? Yes. Unknown? Absolutely. But also full of hope.

If you’ve been down the Mavenclad road, I would love to hear your story. Let’s keep lifting each other up — because this MS life is so much easier when we do it together.