Noah Shebib

Noah “40” Shebib spent his 22nd birthday, in 2005, in the hospital being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. He describes how sensation had changed in his legs: “Hot was cold, cold was hot.” At the time he didn’t know anything about MS, except that “it sounded intimidating.” It took him three years and disease-modifying drugs to get back on his feet.

These days, he is mostly known as rapper Drake’s producer and collaborator. Working together, they’ve brought out the So Far Gone mixtape in 2009, a melange of R&B and rap, and last year’s studio album, Take Care. Their work together has been rewarded with a place on the charts, Grammy nominations and other awards.

Like Drake, Shebib is a former child actor from Toronto. In fact, Shebib is the fourth generation of his family in show biz. Starting with his great-grandmother, his family has been a part of Canadian theater, radio and film for decades. His mother, Tedde Moore was pregnant with him when she played the teacher in 1983’s Christmas Story. But showbiz isn’t the only thing that runs through the family: Tedde was diagnosed with MS two years after her son, despite having a bout with unexplained MS-like symptoms such as vision loss 15 years prior. She has damage in her optic nerve, but is otherwise doing well, Shebib says.

Noah Shebib, better known as “40,” is a 29-year-old Canadian hip-hop producer. He is signed to production company Hip Hop Since 1978 and has produced music for artists such as Drake, Lil Wayne, and Alicia Keys. He also was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) at age 22, and hasn’t let the diagnosis make him miss a beat.

For Shebib, MS started quite suddenly with sensory issues. He began having temperature confusion, his body relaying signals of hot or cold that were distorted from reality:

“My leg was just on fire when I woke up one day,” recalled Shebib. “I was at the studio. I had fallen asleep and had woken up at two o’clock in the afternoon the next day, and my first initial thought was, ‘Oh, I must’ve fallen asleep by the heater or something. My leg is really hot.’ Then I got in my car and the floor heater was only on, on the left side. I thought, ‘That’s interesting.'”

“You know, you have all these other explanations except that your brain is telling you something that’s not true. Then I get home and I sit down at my computer, and I’m thinking the heater is just blasting hot air down there. Where is that heat coming from? Then I put on my boots and I said, ‘Oh my god, this boot is really hot. This boot must’ve been beside the heater.'”

He knew that something was wrong, and went to the hospital. Within a month he was unable to walk, and he received his diagnosis of MS. Noah’s attitude about his disability is excellent. He says that the entire ordeal was inspiring, and he always looked to the bright side, using his situation to his advantage.

“I’ve got this disease, I’m going to live with it,” he said. “I’m going to win with it, and my story is going to be that much better when I get there.”

He finds it difficult to explain to people why he may seem okay one day, and not okay the next. One day he may be out playing basketball with friends, and the next day has to lie down on the bed to put his shoes on. Still, Noah stays optimistic.

“I’m constantly forgetting even myself what the repercussions of my disease are. I’ll be like, ‘Come on! Get up! You can do this!’ So not only is it difficult for someone else to understand, it’s also difficult for me to understand.”