Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
Living with sarcoidosis, heart failure, and a body that treats oxygen like a luxury upgrade means learning to laugh at what hurts, carry what scares you, and drag that oxygen tank around even when you’re tired of feeling “not like the man you used to be.” This is my messy, honest, slightly sarcastic reminder that using oxygen doesn’t mean giving up—it means choosing to stay alive.
A chef living with heart failure and sarcoidosis reflects on what it feels like to age into the very demographic whose medical brochures once made him feel like an anomaly—and why finally fitting the picture is both comforting and unsettling in equal measure.
Living with sarcoidosis and heart failure means sharing life with a quiet, loyal device that tracks every flutter, every scare, and every stubborn heartbeat. This is the story of the strange, funny, and unexpectedly comforting friendship that has kept me alive for nearly two decades.
Battling sarcoidosis while riding a packed NYC train full of coughing strangers is already a thriller, but add a prednisone dose strong enough to summon my inner demon and suddenly chronic illness becomes a full-blown adventure in mood swings, resilience, and survival with humor.
A reader from Europe recently scolded me about the “slice-and-dice” American medical system—but as someone living with sarcoidosis, heart failure, and a knack for collecting diagnoses like airline miles, aggressive treatment is the reason I’m still breathing. Here’s what really happened, why “wait and see” nearly destroyed someone else’s life, and why I’ll take over-tested over overlooked any day.
Tate Basildon 