Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
Waking up to heart failure, sarcoidosis, and a life sentence of meds wasn’t in my five-year plan. Neither was an implantable defibrillator with discontinued leads that could’ve killed me. Here’s how one month of stubborn hesitation saved my life. Chronic illness, heart failure, and sarcoidosis survivors—this one’s for you.
Long before sarcoidosis turned my immune system into a half-functioning smoke detector, my wife and I were card-carrying germaphobes. Yes, both of us. We cringe at communal pens, we wash clothes after stepping outside to walk the dog, and we carry more Purell than snacks. Here’s why we’d rather bring our own pen than touch yours—and why every shirt that sees daylight gets washed. (sarcoidosis included)
Living with heart failure and sarcoidosis means my heart sometimes behaves like an untrained sous-chef—dropping beats, burning the sauce, and sending everyone into panic mode. After a surprise fibrillation episode, some extra beats, and a cardiologist who ambushed me with a flu shot before I could protest, I’m trying to stay calm, breathe, and avoid yet another hospital stay.
Starting with a “clean slate” isn’t just an expression—it’s kind of my secret weapon in surviving sarcoidosis, heart failure, and the great prednisone weight gain saga. From resisting meds as a kid to relying on homeopathy and careful research now, I’ve learned that empowering yourself with knowledge, mindful eating, and a dash of common sense can make chronic illness just a little bit less chaotic. Here’s how I went from fighting every pill to trusting what my body truly needs—and why you might want to wipe your slate clean too. sarcoidosis
Someone decided my take on living with sarcoidosis was “too upbeat,” like I’m out here harmonizing with woodland creatures while my body runs a nonstop group project I didn’t sign up for. But if you’ve ever tried to stay afloat in chronic illness while strangers critique your coping skills, you already know the real story isn’t about pretending—it’s about refusing to let misery run the whole kitchen…
Tate Basildon 