On Paralysis 🧠 How It Works. Part 1

 As you can see, the image shows a tree 🌳Why a tree? Because technically, all types of paralysis that a person can experience—when we are talking about the motor system—are structured in exactly this way.

There is the corticospinal system, which begins at the top of the human brain — essentially, at the crown of the tree.

This corticospinal system gradually descends downward and transitions into the roots. Along the way, part of this system becomes the upper motor neuron, while in the roots it is predominantly represented by lower motor neurons and motor reflex arcs.

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Why does it look like this? 🤔

Because the human body is, in fact, a structure containing a vast number of highly diverse muscles. These muscles can be activated in countless combinations. The crown of the tree — the human brain — is capable of iterating through these combinations and achieving specific postures.

The trunk of the tree mainly represents motor neurons that transmit information along the spinal cord, partially including the corticospinal tract, which forms systems of complex reflexes. The roots, in turn, represent the lower motor neurons.

32 Years with Multiple Sclerosis: My Life, Work, and the Path to Acceptance

I m 38 years old, and in essence I have been living with multiple sclerosis for 32 years. Formally, the diagnosis has not been fully closed—there are still rare theoretical possibilities such as hypomyelination or leukodystrophy—but the likelihood of those is extremely low. The most honest and accurate description today is this: secondary progressive multiple sclerosis, a chronic autoimmune degenerative disease of the central nervous system.

Where I live and why

I currently live in Belgorod. I moved here before the war and chose the city purely for practical reasons. Belgorod is one of the most accessible cities in Russia for wheelchair users: sidewalks, curb cuts, and overall infrastructure make it possible to move around relatively freely.

There is also a climate factor. Compared to Syktyvkar, there is significantly less snow here. This means that for most of the year I can use a regular wheelchair without having to rely on heavy, all-terrain models. In winter, of course, movement is still difficult for a couple of months, but in spring and autumn there is almost no snow, and temperatures are usually above zero, sometimes even hot.

The building where I live is also fairly accessible—I can leave the house independently in my wheelchair, which has a major impact on my quality of life.

An Exoskeleton as a Form of a Path

Sometimes life unfolds in such a way that text becomes the only honest way to record what is happening. Not to justify oneself, not to explain, but precisely to record—to leave a trace in material. That is how the book “Neurophysiology for Dummies” came into being.

Where Life Is Rolling

After the book, there was no sense of relief. Rather, there was silence, in which everything else became audible. The idea of a marathon—around which plans and expectations had been built for a while—began to fall apart. Not dramatically, without loud gestures—it simply became clear that this was not the right vector for now. Perhaps not a cancellation forever, but a pause—a pause that was honest.

Meanwhile, life continued moving in a very material direction. I bought an apartment. Not as a symbol of success, but as a necessity for stability. A place where one can exist w
ithout explanations. Where the walls know more about me than most people do.