Amanda Donnell

Why I Joined My First MS Research Study

April 13, 2026

I spent 20 minutes of my weekend doing something new. I participated in my first MS research study as a new way to get involved, and encourage others to do the same. My MS Resources page offers a link for anyone who wants to raise their voice and support meaningful change by participating in research studies. I used that link and feel proud of myself for taking action when the right opportunity came along.

Learning About the Study

The online study comes from Dr. Malachy Bishop at the University of Wisconsin Madison. His team studies how people with MS make career decisions. They want to understand what resources are valuable for people with MS to make informed choices. They also want to learn how different work situations shape the information people need. Finally, they want to explore the factors people consider when they make career decisions.

Why I Chose to Participate

I joined the study because my diagnosis raised many questions about my future career and ability to work. At the time, I did not know what work would look like for me in the days, weeks and months ahead. I kept moving forward, but I wish I had more guidance during that time. Now, I want to help others who face similar uncertainty. I figure my experience could help someone else feel less lost. I also liked the idea of contributing to research without needing a lab coat!

What Participation Means

My participation will not help me directly. It may help others in the future. The study focuses on career resource and informational needs of people living with MS and the factors considered when making career decisions. I know how confusing that stage can feel, and want to support research that brings clarity to that process. I also want to show that people with MS can shape the future we live in.

Why This Matters

Research moves forward when people participate. I feel proud to be part of something that supports the MS community. I hope more people with MS consider joining studies that match their interests. Every voice adds value. Every story helps researchers understand our needs.
Walking for a Future Without MS

April 10, 2026

One determined step at a time! I am getting ready for my second Walk MS and the excitement is already kicking in. Walk MS brings friends, family, loved ones, and the entire MS community together. We show support and solidarity because no one should ever have to face this disease alone.

My first Walk MS took place in Charlotte in 2024, even though the walk location was technically in Ballantyne. I participated solo that year and still had an incredible experience. The three-mile walk helped me hit my daily 10,000 step goal. It also gave me the perfect excuse to enjoy several new murals along the route. I also interacted with my neurologist and members of my care team at the Atrium tent. I mingled with others living with MS and learned even more about the disease and treatment options. It was the kind of day that reminded me how powerful community can be, even when you show up alone.

This year feels even more meaningful because I will attend with my partner and kids. We are officially walking as Team MSfits. It’s the perfect name for a squad that shows up with heart, humor, and a little bit of chaos. We are choosing the three-mile route again because apparently, I enjoy pretending I am training for the Olympics. Or maybe I just like earning those 10,000 steps the dramatic way.

On Saturday, April 11, we will be out there in the Triad, walking, laughing, soaking in the energy, and reminding ourselves why this event matters so much. I cannot wait to share this experience with my family and to continue walking toward a future without MS.

https://events.nationalmssociety.org/participant/Amanda_Donnell

The vibrant mural tunnel I walked briefly off the path through during my first Walk MS in Charlotte (Ballantyne). A burst of color that made the three mile route feel even more inspiring.

The vibrant “Welcome to Ballantyne” mural that greeted me during my first Walk MS in Charlotte. A cheerful reminder of the community surrounding this event.
How My MS Symptoms Finally Forced Me to Listen

April 8, 2026
Listening to My Body, Eventually

They say knowledge is power and sharing is caring. I agree, but I also know I could have listened to my body better before my diagnosis. I’m not sure I felt ready to take anything seriously at that time. Additionally, did not advocate for myself the way I should have. When I look at the list of symptoms I share below, I see how a doctor may have connected the dots sooner. Most symptoms appeared alone and often improved, so I try not to beat myself up. However, the two weeks before my diagnosis still haunt me. I should have gone to the doctor sooner. Thank goodness my mom advocates for me and makes me listen when I refuse to listen to myself.

The First Symptom That Started It All

As I mentioned on My MS Journey page, the first symptom hit in a strange way. A tingling sensation came and went in my legs, leaving everything from my kneecaps down feeling numb. In September 2022, I went to urgent care. They X-rayed my feet for bone spurs. I said this theory was so off track it needed a map, a compass, and a second opinion from Google.

Before that visit, I did get an opinion from a WebMD search. I hated the first ten options. Multiple sclerosis appeared on that list, and I remember the dread. I rattled off several possible causes to the doctor. She dismissed MS and said I was too young. I later learned I was in the prime age group for women to receive this diagnosis. She ruled out her theory of bone spurs and tested me for diabetes at my insistence, as diabetic neuropathy was on the list. She felt certain I did not have diabetes, and she was right. I felt grateful for that result because my sweet tooth remains undefeated.

The steroid pack eased the symptoms. The numbness and tingling came and went for months. The next symptom did not appear until June 2023 when I started experiencing brain fog and memory issues.

The Summer My Memory Went on Vacation

I remember a family trip to the OBX that summer. My sister and I argued more than usual. I knew something felt wrong with my memory, but I had not told anyone yet. I always prided myself on my memory. When she shared her version of events, I felt confused and irritated. I did not care who was right. I cared about whether my brain betrayed me or if I was being gaslit.

People say, “Be kind, you never know what someone else is going through.” This situation proved that point. I needed honesty from others, but I also needed honesty from myself. If I had admitted the memory issues sooner, I could have explained why I reacted so strongly.

Fatigue That Hit Like a Falling Piano

While the mobility issues scared me, the fatigue hit the hardest. In August 2023, I noticed how tired I felt during the day. The exhaustion grew so intense that I started canceling evening plans. I used to stay out past midnight on Saturdays, often at a drag show. Suddenly, I fell asleep by 8 or 9 p.m.

I knew people with autoimmune diseases who talked about fatigue. I thought I understood it. Comparing it to staying out all night and then working an eight-hour shift was wrong. Nothing prepared me for this level of exhaustion. It felt like someone unplugged my battery and forgot to tell me.

Now the fatigue feels more manageable. A few days each month still knock me down. I also feel more tired after 1 p.m. each day. However, I can function and push through most days.

The Day Everything Collided

The most interesting symptom appeared the day before I went to the hospital. I had two short drives that day. First, I took my cat, Serenity, to the vet. I placed her in her carrier and drove the three miles to PetSmart. On the way, I hit the curb while entering the turn lane. I brushed it off as I consider myself a decent driver, but mistakes happen.

I parked far from the entrance like I always do. As I carried Serenity, I felt off balance. I switched the carrier between my hands to steady myself. PetSmart has sliding doors that open automatically. As I walked in, my left shoulder and left wrist slammed into the door frame. My watch made a loud clang that echoed through my ear. I ignored the stares and wobbled to the back for her appointment.

On the drive home, I hit the curb twice! I blamed the roundabout. Later that evening, I almost canceled plans with my best friend. Fatigue hit hard, but we already bought tickets for the opening night of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour movie.

As I walked to my car, I stumbled down the single step in my garage. My car caught my fall. I opened the door and reached for the steering wheel. I lost my balance and slid into the seat like a melting snowman. Thankfully, the drive to the theater was only a mile on back roads.

I enjoyed the movie and my friend’s company. However, I dreaded the walk down the theater steps. My foot felt half asleep, and the numbness in my legs grew stronger. My best friend implied I looked like I pregamed with three red bull vodkas. He walked me to my car to make sure I made it safely. I drove the mile home and collapsed into bed.

The Call That Changed Everything

While none of these symptoms felt great in the moment, I feel grateful they all surfaced at once in October. They pushed me to call my mom. She insisted I go to the hospital. I ended up with the right doctor that day. No one wants a diagnosis, but catching it early can make a difference.

In the end, all those strange symptoms finally teamed up and forced me to pay attention. I did not enjoy the chaos, but I feel grateful it pushed me toward answers. Now, I know my body speaks in clues, riddles, and the occasional slap across the face, and I plan to listen better next time. I cannot control every twist in this MS story, but I can control how quickly I respond when my legs, brain, or balance start acting like they want their own sitcom. For now, I feel steady, informed, and ready for whatever plot twist shows up next.

My Early MS Symptoms Timeline

Earliest Noticeable Symptoms: September 2022

Diagnosis Date: October 15, 2023

Symptom Timeline
1. Numbness and Tingling September 2022
  - Legs and face
2. Brain Fog and Memory Issues June 2023
3. Severe Fatigue August 2023
4. Driving Difficulties October 2023
  - Trouble staying centered in lanes and hitting curbs
5. Mobility Issues in Legs, Arms, and Fingers October 2023
  - Frequent wobbles
  - Unable to put on pants while standing without losing balance
  - Trouble typing and opening bottles
6. Inability to Walk October 2023
7. Left Hand Tremor October 2023
8. Loss of Taste October 2023
9. Lower Back Pain November 2023
Choosing MS Treatment with Humor and Panic

April 6, 2026

The MS Roller Coaster Begins

After spending four days in the hospital, I begged to go home and finish my steroid infusion there. My care team finally agreed, but first they needed to set up a peripheral intravenous line. A PIV is a small flexible catheter that stays in your vein for a few days. I never loved needles, but this week forced me to get over it. I still look away, yet routine blood work no longer makes me squeamish.

After I escaped the hospital, the next two months hit fast. I bounced between my neurologist, primary care doctor, phlebotomist, and infusion therapy appointments. Each visit filled my calendar and my brain. I needed a neurologist appointment to choose a treatment plan, but the earliest date was November 29, 2023. Thankfully, I received a surprise call on November 2. An appointment opened on November 3, and I grabbed it before anyone could change their mind.

I had been diagnosed with Relapsing Remitting MS. For anyone unfamiliar with this type of MS, picture a roller coaster that starts and stops whenever it wants. There will be sudden drops called relapses followed by smoother stretches called remissions. But the ride operator never shares the ride schedule. Essentially, this MS roller coaster has a visual sign that reads ¯\\(ツ)/¯.

Bringing Back Up to the Big Appointment

For the appointment, a friend offered to come with me and take notes. She would pass on updates to my family and anyone else who needed the Amanda Status Report. The support meant a lot, but having someone with a fully functioning brain in the room was priceless. I was operating at peak space cadet levels, and she was basically my court appointed adult supervision.

As we talked through treatment options, I remember us exchanging subtle attorney to attorney glances that the neurologist noticed. We both worked on enough pharmaceutical matters to know the medical world sometimes includes incentive structures that make you listen harder. It is the general professional awareness that makes you pay attention when medications enter the conversation.

Suddenly, this was not a case file or a deposition outline. This was my actual life, body, and future on the line. So naturally, we launched into what can only be described as a polite but thorough cross examination. After our tag team interrogation ended, I felt confident that Tysabri infusions made sense, with Ocrevus as the backup plan.

The Test That Changed Everything

I needed blood work to learn if I had the JC (John Cunningham) virus. This test would decide my infusion treatment. The probability of having the JC virus as an adult is high. My neurologist said about 85 percent of adults have it, and it usually stays dormant. The biggest risk with Tysabri involves PML, which is a rare and serious brain infection. The risk increases with a JCV positive test. I, or at least the space cadet recalled the remembered the numbers. If negative, the risk was one in ten thousand. If positive, the risk was one in two hundred fifty.

These numbers terrified me. I told everyone I felt confident about choosing Tysabri, but I lost sleep every night. I thought I would start the treatment even with a positive result. The number two hundred forty-nine haunted me. The number nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine did not comfort me either. When it is your life, statistics feel personal. I knew I did not want severe disability from PML. I also did not want to lose my vision or die. Yet the alternative felt like a trap. My MS symptoms could progress, and I could face disability anyway. It felt like a cruel catch twenty-two. I cried often; trying to stay brave like my grandma after she broke her hip. I may have looked brave on the outside, but my brain would not shut off inside.

A week after Thanksgiving, my neurologist called with news. We moved to plan B, Ocrevus. This surprised me because I thought Tysabri remained the plan no matter what. I already saw the positive test in MyChart and convinced myself I would get PML and die. I felt some relief when I heard the new plan. The PML risk with Ocrevus is rare, even for people who test positive for the JC virus. Then my brain switched gears and told me Ocrevus was inferior. I worried I would lose mobility to MS instead.

After my neurologist explained that plan B was not inferior, I felt calmer. My mind had been stuck on the scary statistics. Now I had new risks, but the odds looked better. I did not gloss over them, but the fear eased. I no longer felt like an impostor, learning that fear and a positive mindset can live together. They do not need to cancel each other out.

Today, my brain still spirals at times. At least now, it spirals with better data and a decent sense of humor. I now have clarity, know my path and know I can walk it.

Amanda Status Report
Stadium #18 at Last: A Birthday Trip, Extra Innings, and a Legendary Delay

April 3, 2026

I made visiting all 30 MLB stadiums a bucket list goal in 2007 after graduating law school. I took a trip to Chicago catching both a White Sox game and a Cubs game during that visit. Those two parks became stadiums three and four on my list. The challenge slowly grew from a fun idea into a tradition. Over the years, I added Tampa Bay, Baltimore, Atlanta (twice), and several others. My first stadium visit was in 1998 to cheer on my favorite team the Detroit Tigers. Still, I didn’t start consistently checking off stadiums until 2017. Since then, only three years (2018, 2020, and 2022) kept me from adding at least one new ballpark.

However, one of those years deserves its own plaque in the Hall of Fame of Delayed Plans. In 2022, I fully intended to visit Citizens Bank Park and mark the Phillies as stadium number fourteen. As most of you may recall from my prior post, my grandma’s now‑iconic Lincoln Memorial slide had other ideas. Her ten‑second marble‑railing adventure postponed my Philadelphia plans by four full years. Incredibly, this single moment delayed my MLB stadium progress more than a global pandemic!

Thankfully, this year finally gave me the chance to make up for lost time. Last weekend, my partner, our kids, and I traveled to Philadelphia for Opening Night as part of my birthday weekend. Citizens Bank Park officially became MLB city number eighteen for me. I count it as my eighteenth stadium, even though my baseball journey includes a few quirks. For example, I saw my first MLB game at old Tiger Stadium in 1998 and have since visited Comerica Park. Additionally, I visited Turner Field in 2013 and returned to Atlanta in 2018 to see the Braves at Truist Park. The Oakland Athletics moved out of the Coliseum in 2024 and won’t play in a true MLB stadium until 2028. I refuse to count any temporary Sacramento games held at a minor league facility toward my list. I have standards.

Beyond the stadium count, this trip also gave me the chance to reconnect with a former coworker. We were supposed to meet at the Phillies game four years ago, before the legendary slide derailed everything. Meeting him in the ballpark for the first felt like closing a loop that had been open far too long.

The best part, though, came from sharing the experience with my partner and our kids. Citizens Bank Park turned out to be incredibly family‑friendly, especially with its impressive kid zone. The kids ran, climbed, shot hot dogs out of a cannon, and burned enough energy to power the stadium lights. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the game, the atmosphere, and the feeling of finally being exactly where we were supposed to be.

Beyond baseball, as mentioned on My MS Journey page, this bucket list took on new meaning after my diagnosis. These trips no longer feel like casual baseball outings. Instead, they feel intentional, joyful, and grounding. For three years, I’ve tied MLB stadium visits to my birthday and chosen experiences that make life feel full.

Ultimately, this year’s Philadelphia trip checked off another stadium and redeemed a four‑year delay caused by one unforgettable grandma. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Amanda’s MLB Travel Map

MLB Stadiums Needed
How My Grandma’s Legendary Fall Shaped My MS Mindset

April 2, 2026

The Day of the Legendary Lincoln Memorial Slide

My mom, grandma, and I planned a summer road trip. We would visit two MLB stadiums on my bucket list and take my grandma to new casinos. We mapped out every stop with excitement. First, we would spend a night in DC. Then we would head to Philadelphia for an afternoon Phillies game and a stay at the casino. After that, we planned to drive to Connecticut to visit two of the largest casinos in the country. Finally, we would end the trip in Boston to see my law school friends at Fenway Park.

Twelve hours into the trip, everything changed. My then 88‑year‑old grandma earned herself a ten‑day stay at George Washington University Hospital. How? With her legendary slide down the Lincoln Memorial, of course! That is not a typo. As my grandma would say, “Oh Edna, ya big dummy!” It fit the moment perfectly.

Two hours before her unexpected stunt, we checked into our hotel and learned something shocking. My grandma had never visited DC before. She had never seen the monuments. We solved that quickly. We grabbed an Uber and headed straight to the Lincoln Memorial.

The elevators were out of order, so we took the stairs. As we climbed, a group of teenage boys slid down the marble railing like it was a theme park ride. I joked with my grandma and asked if she planned to try it later. She smirked and said, “I might.”

She had removed her nylon coat because of the heat and tied it around her waist. That detail would soon matter. After we admired the Memorial, we headed back down. The boys were still sliding. My grandma wanted her turn and insisted I go to the bottom to record the moment.

I hit record. The video lasted ten seconds. The chaos lasted four. None of us realized that the nylon jacket would turn her into a human rocket. Before my mom yelled “catch her,” I already knew she would not stop at the end of the rail. I was crouched with my phone and flung out an arm, but I was too late. A man helped her stand, and we realized something was wrong.

An ambulance arrived on the south lawn of the Lincoln Memorial. Within hours, doctors confirmed she had broken her hip. Doctors told us she would need two weeks of acute physical therapy after surgery. They had never met a woman who could out‑stubborn gravity. She was also determined to get home to Ohio to be surrounded by her sisters, kids and even the casino. Yes, a casino. Grandma isn’t one to sit around and look at four walls all day. She’s never met a stranger and she had many friends to get back to socializing with at the casino.

After ten days in the hospital and five in physical therapy, she walked out with a walker and a mission. She made it back to Ohio and returned to the casino a few days later.

This story is epic, but it is not the reason I’m writing about it. Her mindset during that time stayed with me. If she was scared shitless, she never led on. My grandma never cried, got angry or complained. She stayed calm, funny, and focused. Any emotion would have been understandable, but she chose humor and grit.

I remember thinking that if I ever faced something similar, I hoped I could show half her composure. Four hundred forty‑nine days later, I received my MS diagnosis. After hearing I did not need surgery, my mind went straight to my grandma. I remembered her strength and her humor. I knew my mindset would shape the next minutes, days, weeks, months, and years.

Thank you to my legendary grandma. She taught me how to face the hard things with courage, humor, and a little chaos.

Watch the 10 second video here: https://www.facebook.com/share/r/1CVX2PGEqo/
Thanks, Jon (Whoever You Are)

March 31, 2026

Before we go any further, let’s address the obvious: I am not Jon.

Somewhere out there, Jon let go of his signed copy of The Thank You Economy. Thanks to a perfectly timed, serendipitous bookstore purchase in January 2026 this copy now belongs to me. As a result, it now sits on my desk and kicks off my very first post.

So, Jon, wherever you are: I appreciate your generosity. Your book has found a very enthusiastic second home.

Soon after, I attended the Aspire 2026 conference virtually and showed up to Gary Vaynerchuk’s session with championship‑level enthusiasm. And Gary delivered exactly what Gary always delivers: clarity disguised as a punch in the ribs.

More importantly, the message was simple, sharp, and impossible to shake off:

Attending the conference is not “the thing.” Execution is the thing.

Being in the room (physical or virtual) might spark something. It might inspire you, motivate you, or make you feel like you’re on the brink of a breakthrough. But Gary’s point was unmistakable:

Inspiration without implementation is just a high‑impression moment with no sales.

You can absorb all the insights in the world, but if you don’t do something with them, they evaporate. Ultimately, the real work begins the moment the livestream ends, the notebook closes, and the hype fades. That’s where momentum is built, where success is shaped, and where 2026 and beyond is won.

And honestly? He’s right. The conference was the spark. What I do next is the fire.

This blog and the website it lives on is part of my own post‑Aspire execution. Not a recap. Not a highlight reel. A commitment to building, sharing, and doing the work publicly and consistently.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading the very first post of many.

While this blog will live and grow here, I’ll be sharing updates across other platforms as well. Leading with resilience: one step, one story, one season at a time.

Here’s to Jon, to serendipity, to Gary’s tough love, and to actually doing the work.