Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
I’ve spent my whole life being invited everywhere while secretly plotting my escape route to the nearest quiet corner with a book. Then sarcoidosis showed up, and suddenly everyone has Opinions about what “support” should look like. Here’s the thing: I don’t need a crowd. I need calm, a steady hand to hold, and enough peace to breathe.
Some mornings hit differently. You wake up, scan your body for complaints, remember everything you’ve been through with sarcoidosis… and then realize something unexpected: life is still showing up for you. Not perfectly. Not pain-free. But persistently, stubbornly, beautifully present. This is one of those mornings.
Twenty years ago, I would’ve laughed at the idea that sarcoidosis could slowly rewrite my life until my heart needed supervision and my lungs required accessories. I didn’t know my future involved acronyms, oxygen tubing, and a pharmacy relationship built on mutual trust. If your body has ever quietly changed the rules while you were busy living… this one’s for you.
Would you let a stranger wrap something around your bare skin that’s been on hundreds of other bodies… and just trust it’s clean? If you’re living with sarcoidosis (or any chronic illness), that question hits different—because “probably fine” is not a medical plan. Come with me the next time I’m in a doctor’s office, silently judging a blood pressure cuff like it owes me rent.
In 2007, I got a diagnosis that came with a timeline and an attitude: sarcoidosis had moved into my heart, and the future was being discussed like it was a fixed appointment. I did what any reasonable person would do—I decided to out-stubborn it. Years later, life reminded me that “I’m fine” is not a medical plan, especially when your lungs have their own opinions. If you’ve ever tried to live normally while your body quietly keeps score, this one’s for you.