Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
After twenty years of living with sarcoidosis, heart failure, and more hospital visits than I can count, I’ve learned one thing: healthcare workers can make or break your experience. Some are angels in scrubs; others act like you’ve ruined their day just by existing. Here’s a raw, unfiltered look at what happens when compassion gets lost in the waiting room.
I saw a guy land a ridiculous roller-skating trick in a beach town and my brain immediately volunteered my body for a stunt it absolutely did not agree to. Living with sarcoidosis has taught me that nostalgia can be sweet, savage, and weirdly funny—and sometimes the bravest move is not proving anything at all.
Ever had someone snatch your phone while you were just trying to show them a picture? Twice in one day, it hit me how much of my entire life—accounts, passwords, memories, even my brain power—now lives inside this little iPhone. As a chef with sarcoidosis and heart failure who once memorized entire bank account numbers and directions without GPS, I’m wrestling with the good, bad, and ridiculous sides of tech dependence.
Raised in a Catholic school from age five to sixteen, I once believed in the power of confession—kneeling in a booth, spilling sins, walking out with a “clean slate.” But over time, I realized many used it as a free pass to behave badly, gossip shamelessly, or worse. In this heartfelt reflection, a chef, debut novelist, and chronic illness warrior shares how religion, family expectations, and a gossiping “good Catholic” co-worker pushed him away from organized faith—and toward a simpler belief: just be a good human.
For nearly two decades, I had a deep, complicated friendship with someone I never met in person. We bonded over email, phone calls, cancer, cats, and clashing work styles. Then one day, I almost didn’t pick up the phone. This is a story about unexpected grief, long-distance connections, and why you should never let a call go to voicemail.
Tate Basildon 