Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
We spend so much time chasing the shining things—titles, trophies, applause that fades faster than a bad soufflé—but living with sarcoidosis and years of unexpected detours has a funny way of reminding me who really shows up when the cameras aren’t rolling. This little reflection started with a series of questions from Charles Schulz, and let’s just say the answers took me somewhere… unexpected.
A reader wrote to me with a blunt question: how the hell am I still alive and semi functional with sarcoidosis, heart failure, and a heart that occasionally tries to be creative with rhythm Just between us the answer is far more chaotic and heartfelt than any clinical chart will ever show Sarcoidosis taught me to take every prognosis with salt and faith and maybe a dash of rebellion
Some summers slap you with sunshine, and others hit you with the reality of chronic illness, sarcoidosis, and that rebellious heart that never reads the room. This is the story of one overly ambitious chef who pushed too hard, paid for it immediately, and finally had to accept the uncomfortable truth: the “old me” isn’t coming back, but the new me deserves just as much care—ideally before collapsing into a lounge chair like a wilted basil leaf.
Living with sarcoidosis and heart failure, I’ve learned a thing or two about showing up even when life doesn’t make it easy. My biological father didn’t, but my stepdad—my real dad—did. This is a story about humor, strength, and learning to face illness with a smile instead of a complaint.
There was a version of me in 2002—forty years old, a working chef, exhausted in ways that made no logical sense, and listening to doctors insist that every alarming symptom was “stress.” Now that sarcoidosis is a familiar part of my vocabulary, looking back on that time feels like watching a movie where you want to yell at the character to turn around. Revisiting that moment made me rethink the “what if” game entirely and wonder how differently life looks when you finally know what your body was trying to tell you.