On the 5th of October 2025, I completed a fundraising swim in support of the Greek Myasthenia Gravis Patients Association, raising a total of €12,000. A portion of this amount was later donated by H-MGA to EuMGA.
But what I want to share today is not simply a story about fundraising.
What I want to share is something deeper: how awareness creates connection, how connection inspires generosity, and how even a single personal act can ripple outward into a collective movement.
This story began in the summer of 2024.
I was standing on my balcony, looking out across a small bay on a quiet Greek island. I remember feeling a strong sense of nostalgia—and doubt. I wondered whether I would ever be able to swim across that bay again.
I had been introduced to the H-MGA in the autumn of 2023. As I came to understand the realities of myasthenia gravis and the vital work being done by our association—often with extremely limited financial resources—I began asking myself a simple question: What can I do to help?
Back on that balcony, the idea came almost playfully: What if I swam across the bay to raise funds?
People run marathons, cycle across countries, bake cakes… why not swim? I had always been a swimmer and loved swimming and snorkelling.
There was only one problem: In 2024, I could barely swim 100 meters. Before MG I could swom 2,5-3km…
But by the spring of 2025, after undergoing plasmapheresis, something had changed. Strength was slowly returning. The impossible no longer felt entirely out of reach. It was time to commit.
I set myself a goal: I would train through the summer and attempt the swim in early autumn. Each “good day” became an opportunity—just a little further, a little stronger.
Open sea swimming is unpredictable: currents, wind, waves. It demands not only physical endurance, but trust—in your body, and in those around you.
My husband became my constant support, my companion in training, and on the day itself, my quiet anchor.
Week by week, progress came. One week before the event, I completed a full trial crossing of the bay. That was the moment I knew: this was really going to happen.
The date was set—then moved forward due to weather conditions. October 5th became the day.
But the swim itself was only half the story.
To maximize the impact, I sought advice from myaware, who recommended the fundraising platform WhyDonate.
With Dimitris’ help, my initial draft was transformed into a compelling appeal. We translated it into English and French and shared it widely—friends, family, business and work colleagues across Greece and Europe.
The response was extraordinary.
People didn’t just donate—they engaged. They asked questions. They shared the message further.
For many, this was their first encounter with myasthenia gravis. What began as a fundraising effort quickly became a conversation—about a condition that is too often invisible, misunderstood, or simply unknown.
And then something remarkable happened on the island.
We informed the mayor about the initiative. He immediately offered his support, connecting us with a local journalist—nicknamed “Mr Drone”—who not only filmed the swim but also wrote a detailed article about myasthenia gravis in the local press. Suddenly, awareness spread far beyond my immediate circle.
People began to recognize me—not for the swim itself, but for what it represented. They called me “the swimmer.” Conversations started everywhere. Some locals told me they had heard of MG as “Onassis’ disease.” Others were hearing about it for the very first time.
On the day of the swim, the entire island seemed to participate.
The mayor arranged for the island’s only ambulance to be present. Locals gathered on the beach, bringing their children, their friends, even curious tourists.
Among them was a Dutch woman whose sister lives with MG, and another visitor affected by a neuromuscular condition.
What could have been a solitary physical challenge became a shared human experience.
And in that moment, MG was no longer an abstract condition.
It had a face. A story. A voice.
After the swim, a friend who works in fundraising gave me simple advice: “Send the video to those who haven’t responded yet.” I did—and more donations followed in the weeks after. The story continued to grow.
In November, supported by partners in the pharmaceutical community, H-MGA was approached by Virus magazine, which published an article highlighting both the swim and the broader challenges of living with MG.
Looking back, I realize that what seemed like a personal challenge became something much larger.
Yes, we raised significant funds—far beyond what I had imagined—helping the association pursue more ambitious projects.
But equally important, we raised awareness in places and among people we could never have reached otherwise. In my professional network, across countries, and on that small Greek island, myasthenia gravis is no longer unknown.
And perhaps most importantly, I hope this story serves as a reminder—especially to those living with MG—that limitations are not always final. With the right support, determination, and purpose, it is possible to reclaim parts of ourselves we thought were lost.
This was not just a swim.
It was proof that awareness leads to understanding, understanding leads to empathy, and empathy leads to action.
And that is how real change begins.
Thank you.
Written by Isabella Curtis
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