Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
I showed up for a stress test expecting the usual treadmill humiliation—just me, some wires, and the subtle reminder that sarcoidosis doesn’t care about my plans. Instead, the numbers went rogue, the tech started bargaining with the screen, and I walked out with the kind of plot twist that makes you stare at your own body like, “Excuse me, who authorized this?”
Living with sarcoidosis and heart failure means juggling oxygen checks, blood pressure readings, fluid retention tests, and everything else my body dreams up when it’s bored. Here’s how I track my symptoms, keep my numbers stable, and try to stay sane while traveling, working, and dealing with water retention that refuses to follow the rules.
Living with heart failure and sarcoidosis means my heart occasionally behaves like a dramatic actor auditioning for a medical soap opera. Between chest pains, racing pulses, doubled diuretics, and the dreaded exercise stress test, I’m learning to survive it all with humor, grit, and just enough sarcasm to stay upright.
A quick trip to the store turned into an unexpected memory about life with chronic illness, oxygen tanks, and the hilariously awkward way two grown men with invisible diseases failed to communicate. If you’ve ever lived with sarcoidosis, heart failure, or just the chaos of being human, this tiny moment might hit home.
A chef living with heart failure and sarcoidosis reflects on what it feels like to age into the very demographic whose medical brochures once made him feel like an anomaly—and why finally fitting the picture is both comforting and unsettling in equal measure.
Tate Basildon 