As a teenager, I believed that fate had been cruel to me and that I had been born in the wrong place and to the wrong family, which is why I joined the so-called “gang of guys” without a second thought during the turbulent 1990s. When I was 19, my first boyfriend convinced me to try heroin. I had no idea how drastically it would change my life, so I agreed. This addiction dragged me through nine long and terrifying years.
During this time, I met my future husband and the father of my beloved son, Maxim. Life was monotonous, so from here I’ll jump straight to late 2003 and early 2004. So, I’m 29, and I’ve just been released from prison and decided to rebuild my life at any cost. I successfully completed rehab. As part of the center’s requirements, I needed medical reports on my health. During a routine checkup, I found out I had hepatitis C. To be honest, it didn’t particularly upset me: first, because I’d always known I was at risk, and second, it seemed to me that the worst part of my life was already behind me. “Well,” I told myself, “I could have died a million times already, so thank God for every day I get to live.” Even though I had completely changed my life and my surroundings, I continued to maintain a relationship with the future father of my son. To be honest, I hadn’t planned on getting pregnant because I was terrified of infecting the baby, and besides, Pasha was still using drugs. When I found out I was pregnant, I was in shock! We discussed the situation and decided that we would be together now, and our child would grow up in a complete and happy family. And it all began like a fairy tale—my husband found a good job, we planned our future together, and we were surrounded by wonderful people. This lasted until Pasha started to swell up strangely.
I won’t go into the whole tragedy; I’ll keep it brief—the diagnosis wasn’t made right away. When they told us he had glomerulonephritis and that this complication was caused by hepatitis C, I couldn’t even pronounce the word at the time, let alone understand how serious it all was. Pasha died when Maksym was about to turn four months old. This is, of course, a terrible tragedy, but here’s what I want to share—one day I saw tears in my husband’s eyes! And this was a huge man, blue with prison tattoos, who had never cried—it seemed to me that nothing could even scare him! I asked him, “What happened?” He replied, “I had no idea that life could be this good! Thank you, my love!” So the last year of his 38 was the happiest, and that comforts me a little! Maksym, following the doctors’ recommendations, was bottle-fed. Because of this, we started having problems with his pancreas after his first year. Until he was three, we were frequently at the doctor’s, and when they tested him for hepatitis markers, I was told he had antibodies to hepatitis C—and after three years, that’s cause for concern. A while later, a repeat test confirmed the diagnosis! Another blow! I don’t even remember how I got through it! Thank you to my friends who were always there for me. There were many people in my circle who had this diagnosis, and many were treated with interferon. I saw how difficult it was—many lost their hair, couldn’t sleep, and there were even those who couldn’t endure the full course and gave up without finishing treatment. That’s why I put off treatment until I learned about a new medication. After consulting with a pediatric infectious disease specialist and following another checkup, we decided to wait until he got a little older and gained some weight. I hadn’t been treated myself yet either, because I had health issues and was focused on other things. I looked for options, but no one wanted to take on the treatment of a child who wasn’t yet 12 years old. I will never forget the joy I felt when I received the message from Yuriy Voynalovich. He offered to enroll Maksym in a free hepatitis C treatment program, with full medical support, to be provided by one of the most qualified pediatric infectious disease specialists in Ukraine—Iryna Volodymyrivna Raus. This was a very brief account of my life, but it included the key moments that changed my life—either for the worse or for the better. And finally, I want to share a happy experience that, I am sure, will change our lives for the better. In 2020, Maxim and I completed a course of treatment for hepatitis C and are now completely free of this disease. As a mother, I am, of course, even happier for my son, because he had no idea what it was or what it could lead to in the future. That’s how it should be—children shouldn’t have to pay for their parents’ sins! To everyone who reads my story, I wish you good health and remind you that there is no situation from which a way out cannot be found.
