Sam having tyruko infusion for her MS

My Tyruko Infusion Day — 5 Years on Natalizumab and Why It's My Magic Drug

Yesterday was infusion day. I'm writing this from the sofa, comfy, coffee and Bones on the TV.

I've been on natalizumab since 2020 — first as Tysabri, and about five months ago I switched to Tyruko, the biosimilar version of the same drug. Same drug, just a cheaper alternative that helps the NHS stretch its resources further. And honestly, I'm all for that.

The day itself

I used to have my infusion first thing in the morning, which meant I could treat myself to a McDonald's on the way home like the responsible adult I am. I missed an appointment after a bank holiday (brain fog did that, not me, obviously) and now I'm on afternoon slots for the time being — so yesterday I walked into the hospital clutching two McDonald's, one for me and one for my friend who I met through this whole process. I genuinely felt like I was smuggling contraband. Definitely worth it.

Before anything gets started, I always nip to the loo. If you've ever tried navigating a hospital toilet with an infusion machine you'll understand this is less about needing a wee and more about pure self-preservation. With the machine think Ninja Warrior, but make it chronic illness style.

Then it's the health questions — any cold or flu symptoms, any changes since last time — followed by obs: temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, O2. My blood pressure is always on the low side, which is ironic because I feel absolutely full of hype most of the time.

Yesterday I also had LFTs done (my JC virus test is next month — more on that another time, it deserves its own post), so the nurse took blood before hooking me up. Then the cannula goes in my right arm — my left arm's veins gave up years ago but there's one reliable vein on the right that never lets me down. 

The infusion itself is one hour, followed by a 15-minute flush, then obs again, cannula out, tiny plaster on the tiny hole. An hour and a half total — relatively quick compared to some infusions like Ocrevus, which can be an all-day affair. The room has reclining chairs, pillows for your back and your arm, and nurses who are genuinely some of the loveliest people I've ever met. They chat, they offer coffee and biscuits, they answer random questions (yesterday I asked about antihistamines after experiencing hayfever for the first time at a festival — they sorted me right out).

Why I call it my magic drug

Since starting natalizumab in 2020, I've had zero relapses. Before that, my MS was very active. That's everything to me. Obviously everyone's experience is different, but mine has been life-changing.

When I first started I used to sit in that chair and cry, thinking this is my life now and it's rubbish. Now it feels like a catch-up with friends. That shift didn't happen overnight, but it happened.

When it changed to Tyruko I wasn't bothered at all. My mum was diagnosed with MS in 1987 — this drug didn't exist then. The fact that I have access to it, that it's working, and that switching to the biosimilar might free up NHS resources for someone else? That feels like a good thing to me.

If you're just starting out

Whether you're starting Tyruko, Tysabri, or any infusion treatment — here's what I'd say: talk to your nurses, they genuinely have the answers. Bring something to keep you occupied. Plan to rest afterwards. And if you're there a while, bring snacks. You deserve them.

Sam x

This is my personal experience only and not medical advice. Always speak to your MS team about your own treatment.

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