When a stubborn headache began creeping down the right side of Marion Jones鈥 neck in the fall of 2020, she brushed it off as the kind of discomfort anyone might feel during a stressful year. She was juggling a move, a demanding career and the isolation of the pandemic.
鈥淚t started as just a headache,鈥 Jones said. 鈥淏ut after a few weeks, it migrated down my neck, and something just felt off. A friend finally told me that I needed to go to the ER.鈥
That visit would change the trajectory of her life. Within 72 hours, Jones was told she had neuromyelitis optica, or NMO, a rare autoimmune disease that attacks the spinal cord and optic nerves. She remembers nearly every word from the neurologist who delivered the news.
鈥淗e told me he had some news 鈥 bad news,鈥 Jones said. 鈥淭o hear that I had this autoimmune disease with no cure was devastating. But then he said something that I still hold on to: 鈥榃e do have treatment options. And I treat people who live normal lives.鈥 That stayed with me. I clung to it for dear life.鈥
Losing control and rebuilding from nothing
The decline that followed was swift and terrifying. The numbness spread down Jones鈥 body. Her leg began to drag. COVID-19 restrictions meant that her family couldn鈥檛 be by her side.
鈥淚 was living in Boston, completely alone. I didn鈥檛 have family there. And overnight, my whole world came to this screeching halt,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 was in the ICU, and I had to call the company I had just accepted a new job with to tell them I couldn鈥檛 take it anymore. I had no idea what was going to happen to me.鈥
After a relapse caused by an initial medication that wasn鈥檛 a good match, Jones once again lost mobility.
鈥淚 remember holding a cold pack from the freezer against my leg and not feeling a thing,鈥 she said. 鈥淎nd I just knew that it was a red flag. That something was really wrong.鈥
That night, the sensations she鈥檇 felt only on the right side migrated left. By morning, she was unable to walk.
鈥淚t was a nightmare,鈥 Jones said.
She went on to spend months in a rehabilitation center relearning how to sit, stand and eventually take steps.
鈥淚t was like being a child learning everything all over again,鈥 she said. 鈥淲hen you鈥檙e dealing with paralysis, nothing is guaranteed.鈥
A doctor becomes a patient
In Aurora, Illinois, another woman was unknowingly at the beginning of the same journey. Sumita Bhatia, MD, then a radiation oncologist at Rush Copley Medical Center, had just gotten engaged when she started having numbness in the bottom of her feet. 
鈥淲e were moving into a new apartment and wedding planning,鈥 Bhatia said. 鈥淟ife was full. And I knew immediately the numbness was not normal.鈥
Bhatia went straight to the Emergency Department at Rush Copley.
鈥淏ecause I was a physician there, I trusted them,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 knew how well they cared for people. And suddenly, I was the patient needing that care.鈥
When her tests revealed an active lesion in her spine and, later, positive NMO antibodies, she was frightened, but she also felt something else: determination.
鈥淚 told myself, 鈥楲et them do everything they need to do. Put in the central lines. Do all the tests. Just fix me,鈥欌 Bhatia said.
Two women, one physician and shared hope
Both women, without yet knowing each other, soon found themselves in front of the same neurologist: , at 海角原创.
Bhatia remembers that moment vividly.
鈥淲hen Dr. Miravalle walked into the room, the very first thing I sensed was compassion,鈥 she said. 鈥淗e was calm. He was knowledgeable. And he took a piece of paper, sat down and started sketching exactly what was happening in my spine. I will never forget that. He explained every medication, every side effect. He told me that I may forget that I even have NMO. As a patient, hearing that brought me peace I cannot describe.鈥
For Jones, who had moved across the country specifically to find long-term care, meeting Miravalle was equally profound.
鈥淚 walked into the multiple sclerosis suite at Rush, and something just felt familiar, like home,鈥 she said. 鈥淭he staff, the nurses, the way they greeted me. And then with Dr. Miravalle, he really listened. He wanted to know who I was, not just as a patient, but as a person.鈥
When she pulled out the meticulous notes she鈥檇 taken since diagnosis, he smiled.
鈥淗e went through my questions and answered every single one,鈥 she said. 鈥淗e made me feel like I wasn鈥檛 alone in this.鈥
Miravalle later introduced Jones and Bhatia, sensing how much they could help one another.
The connection was immediate.
鈥淭his deep, amazing friendship developed,鈥 Bhatia said. 鈥淢arion has been such a huge support for me because she understands exactly what I鈥檓 going through.鈥
Donor-supported care that treats the whole person
Both women say one of the most important parts of their recovery came from a place they didn鈥檛 expect: Rush鈥檚 Brain Health Program, which is supported through philanthropy.
鈥淭hese are difficult times to advance research and patient-centered care,鈥 Miravalle said. 鈥淣ow more than ever, we need collective support to help us promote this work and propel the research, so we can continue to understand how the interventions we provide as part of this program positively impact lives.鈥
For Jones, the program reinforced the holistic pillars she鈥檇 learned during rehab, including nutrition, hydration, rest and stress management. But more importantly, it offered community.
鈥淚t鈥檚 this space where everyone just gets it,鈥 she said. 鈥淭here鈥檚 education, accountability, support. They help you build a life again. And donors make that possible. They make it possible for patients like me to access resources that help us prevent relapse and stay well.鈥
That philosophy has shaped how she lives her life.
鈥淔or someone with a neurological autoimmune disease, fatigue is part of it,鈥 Jones said. 鈥淚鈥檝e had to relearn my body. Eight hours might be enough sleep for someone else, but I might need 10 and a nap on top of that. That鈥檚 not weakness. That鈥檚 fuel.鈥
For Bhatia, who trained in integrative medicine, the program felt like therapy, structure and empowerment all at once.
鈥淚 learned tools I use every single day,鈥 she said. 鈥淭he nutrition guidance, the exercise recommendations, the stress management. It all matters. And it changes outcomes. Truly, this program changed the way I live my life.鈥
Different paths, shared forward motion
Today, Jones is running marathons. What began as 30-second intervals became a mile, then several. She ran her first marathon in 2023. 
鈥淚 was in Tokyo for vacation in March 2023 when the Tokyo Marathon was taking place,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 was still getting adjusted to this new body and was inspired by the runners I saw. When I got back to the States, I decided I was going to train. A friend told me that I could run a marathon come fall if I started training now. I didn鈥檛 believe her, but she was right.鈥
She is now chasing the last of six stars in the Abbott World Marathon Majors, which features the world鈥檚 six largest marathons. In what she calls a series of full-circle moments, she completed the Tokyo Marathon on March 1 and will be running the Boston Marathon in April.
鈥淚 wasn鈥檛 just going to learn how to walk again,鈥 she said. 鈥淚 told myself, 鈥業鈥檓 going to run again.鈥 And I am. I just completed my sixth marathon in Tokyo, and I鈥檒l officially be named an Abbott World Marathon Majors Six Star Finisher in Boston. I can鈥檛 wait.鈥
Jones鈥 infusions 鈥 now spaced every eight weeks, which is a dramatic improvement from the biweekly schedule she once required 鈥 have become a familiar rhythm.
鈥淲hen I walk in for my infusions, they say, 鈥楾he runner has arrived!鈥欌 Jones said. 鈥淭hey ask about marathon training. They talk to me about everyday things. It鈥檚 the humanity. That鈥檚 what makes the difference. It鈥檚 more than lifesaving medication. It鈥檚 medicine for the soul.鈥
Bhatia agrees.
鈥淣urses see you in the most vulnerable moments, and they show up for you,鈥 she said. 鈥淭hey made me feel safe at every turn. Rush鈥檚 nurses are the heart of the experience.鈥
Bhatia, now living in Asheville, North Carolina, after her pandemic-delayed wedding, returns to Chicago twice a year for her infusions.
鈥淚 could go anywhere, but I have no desire to go anywhere else,鈥 she said. 鈥淩ush is where I feel safe. It鈥檚 where I feel cared for.鈥
Together, show what happens when expertise and compassion converge.
For Jones, being understood matters deeply. A recent media mix-up further underscored why telling her story accurately matters. After an article mistakenly attributed Jones鈥 NMO diagnosis to Olympic sprinter Marion Jones, she realized how easily awareness can be diluted. For years, she would casually clarify that she was not the track star but the marathoner. When the mix-up involved her diagnosis, it felt different.
鈥淚 run these marathons to bring attention to this disease,鈥 Jones said. 鈥淚t diminishes the awareness when people think it鈥檚 someone else鈥檚 story. It鈥檚 hard to run a marathon, and I鈥檓 out here doing it with NMO thanks to Rush. Rush helped give me my life back.鈥
鈥淎nd it changed mine,鈥 Bhatia added. 鈥淭his experience has made me a better doctor, a better patient and a more grounded human being.鈥
