At mdgroup, clinical research is more than a profession — it’s personal. Why We Care is a series of real-life stories from our team, sharing how clinical trials have touched their own lives, families, and communities. These experiences drive our passion for delivering remarkable patient-centric solutions and reinforce why we’re dedicated to making clinical trials more accessible, compassionate, and human.
Every story is a reminder that behind every data point is a person, and behind every treatment breakthrough is hope.
For Eliana Rivera Burke, Director of Business Development at mdgroup, clinical research has always been her professional passion. But in 2020, it became deeply personal. After an unexpected health battle left her fighting daily with debilitating chronic hives, Eliana’s own clinical trial participation became a turning point—not just in her condition, but in her outlook on life. This is her story of struggle, hope, and how patient-centric clinical trials can change lives in ways that statistics and protocols never fully capture.
I had always been active—hiking the trails outside my Colorado home, playing golf (badly), walking and swimming and juggling my job in clinical research with volunteering on behalf of my community. But all of that changed in the spring of 2020, to be exact, it was May when my skin began to erupt in angry, itchy welts that seemed to come from nowhere.
At first, I blamed stress or maybe a reaction to laundry detergent. But the hives—red, raised, and relentless—kept coming. Some days they were small patches; other days, they covered my entire back, my arms, my face and worse yet, my head. Antihistamines helped briefly but never completely. I would wake in the middle of the night, scratching until my skin bled, think crime scene on the mattress.
After months of confusion, dermatologist and allergist visits, and yes therapy (I thought I was going insane), I finally received a diagnosis: chronic spontaneous urticaria (CSU)—a condition where hives appear without a known trigger and persist for six weeks or longer. In my case, it has been years.
“It sounds benign when you say ‘hives,’” I told many, “but living with them every day feels like being at war with your own skin and often you are.” It’s a war that will discourage you and often make you feel helpless.
CSU stole more than my comfort. It took away my confidence. I stopped doing much of my activity, dreading the stares at my blotchy arms, legs or often my face. I suffered. Nothing seemed to help—not the prescription steroids, not the rotating cast of antihistamines, not even the elimination diets I tried out of desperation.
Then one day, my husband found a clinical trial for a new treatment. It was part of a global study, testing a drug that targeted one of the pathways believed to cause CSU symptoms. There were no guarantees, they warned—some patients saw improvement, others didn’t. But for me, who felt like I was drowning in my own body, it felt like a lifeline.
The clinical trial required regular oral medication, daily symptom logs, and frequent visits for blood work and monitoring. It was exhausting. I questioned whether it was worth it—until, several months in, something changed.
“I woke up one morning and realized… I wasn’t itching,” and I was beyond happy, I cried. “I hadn’t scratched in my sleep. My skin was just… normal.” And no blood on the bed….WHEW!
The hives didn’t disappear all at once, but they faded. They have never completely stopped, but I have relief, and the outbreaks are minimal. I have days when my skin is calm. I started sleeping again. My mind, once clouded by fatigue and frustration, began to clear. I returned to golf (I still am not great at it, but I try). I went back to swimming, and walking, I went back to life. We went on vacation with no fear of flare-ups. And if one came, I was ready.
The trial continues and the hope is simple that it gets approved, allowing so many more to be treated for this condition, which had no potential treatment until recently. There is hope.
Today, I volunteer as a patient advocate, sharing her journey with others newly diagnosed. I continue on the medication that helped me, as we await approvals.
“Being part of that trial gave me my life back,” and I am grateful. “But more than that, it gave me a purpose—to help others find hope when they feel like they’ve tried everything.”
Cures are out there.
