Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
Ever been spiritually ambushed by someone quoting scripture or pushing miracle twigs like they’re handing out eternal life samples at Costco? As a spiritual but not religious chef living with chronic illness, I’ve got some thoughts—and a few logs of my own. Here’s my no-pamphlet-needed take on boundaries, belief, and why passion doesn’t need to feel like a sales pitch.
Living with sarcoidosis has a way of changing how you hear the world. When your body is already loud with symptoms, appointments, and internal negotiations, silence stops feeling empty and starts feeling necessary. This reflection explores how quiet moments—unexpected, unplanned, and deeply human—became one of my most reliable survival tools.
I used to think tools like Grammarly were lifesavers—especially when brain fog, fatigue, and sarcoidosis made every sentence feel like it had to fight its way onto the page. But somewhere between helpful corrections and unsolicited judgment, something shifted. This isn’t a tech review. It’s a breakup story about voice, truth, and why I finally chose myself over an algorithm.
Some of the most painful moments don’t come from cruelty, but from “kindness” said out loud without a second thought. Living with sarcoidosis has taught me that certain compliments land more like paper cuts than comfort—and once you hear them, you can’t un-hear them.
A tragic MRI accident in Westbury, NY, has one private chef and chronic illness survivor reflecting on medical safety, invisible disabilities, and the emotional weight of navigating life with sarcoidosis and heart failure. For fellow spoonies and debut authors juggling symptoms, appointments, and everything in between—this one hits close.
Tate Basildon 