Melt Mode: What July, MS, and My Cat Have in Common

So somewhere between the heat wave in NYC and the hallucination of me walking without falling, I realized: it must be July. Hi

This is that time of year where the sun feels personal. Summer has an unspoken beef with me. It’s not just “hot” in the city that never sleeps, it’s hostile. For folks with MS, the July heat isn’t a vibe, it’s a villain. And not even a creative one—just a repeat offender named Uhthoff’s phenomenon. I ain’t gonna lie I had to look up this symptom .  Even after learning what it was I still can’t annunciate this terminology, without it sounding like a jazz musicians name right, right? But instead of smooth sax solos, Uhthoff brings blurred vision, brain fog, and the sudden urge to cancel everything… including standing. I speak from experience. 

Let me break it down:

A tiny rise in body temperature—just 0.5 degrees—and my nervous system taps out. Full shutdown. One minute I’m coasting through the day, the next I’m moving like Wi-Fi in a tunnel. You ever feel your limbs betray you at a barbecue? Welcome to my life.

But here’s the kicker: to the outside world, I look fine. I am chilled, maybe zen out.   People don’t always see the invisible war going on inside. The way my body becomes an obstacle course, my brain a buffering signal. That’s where MS is at its best. it’s a stealthy assassin.  Loud in your body, quiet to the crowd. And that silence? It can mess with your spirit.

I used to push through it. Pretend. Deny.  Perform. But lately, I’ve started asking myself a different question:

“Who do I need to be visible to? Them… or me?” If I don’t show up for myself, I’m ghosting the one person I can’t escape—Me. 

And speaking of visibility… meet my new therapist, pet soulmate, and chaos coordinator: Amira the cat. We adopted her a few weeks ago. she is only three months old, and I’m convinced she’s here to teach me inner peace by driving everyone else insane.  She is a “pulga” jumping, and hopping everywhere. 

This cat has ADHD, and zero respect for boundaries, basically, she fits right in with the fam.  But watching her is like watching a masterclass in unapologetic presence. When she’s tired, she sleeps. When she wants love, shes looking for takers. When she sees any of the cats in the hallway at 3am, she chases at them like they owe her money.  Iconic.

In a weird way, she reminds me what I’ve been trying to learn this whole MS journey:

You don’t owe anyone an explanation for your body’s rhythms. Your healing isn’t a performance. Your stillness isn’t laziness, it’s a spiritual boundary.

Summer July this year is no joke! The air is thick like regret, the sidewalk shimmers like a mirage, and my MS is flipping channels with no remote. But I’m still here. Melting a little. Laughing a lot. Learning to honor the invisibles, like faith, fatigue, and the fierce joy of showing up anyway.

Until next time, stay cool. Literally.