Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
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.
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.
I took my wedding ring off for the first time in forever, for a sweet anniversary plan involving diamonds and a jeweler. Naturally, my finger reacted like I’d committed a crime. If you live with sarcoidosis or any chronic illness, you know the drill: you try to do one normal, romantic thing and your body files an immediate complaint. What followed was a missing ring, a believable lie (for once), a perfectly shaped bruise, and an anniversary gift that didn’t replace anything. It added to it.
I didn’t expect my most dramatic breakup to be with a TV icon, but chronic illness (hi, sarcoidosis) has a way of sharpening your BS detector until it could slice tomatoes paper-thin. This is the story of how comfort-TV turned into a glossy spiritual checkout line, and why one chef with a malfunctioning body finally said: no thanks, I’ll keep my dignity and my toast, even if both are slightly burned.
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…