Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
Living with sarcoidosis and heart failure means facing down terrifying statistics, clueless predictions, and medical journals that act like they’re auditioning to narrate a true-crime documentary about my lungs. But in the middle of all that doom, I’ve learned to rewrite the script, trust my stubborn body, and keep choosing a life filled with humor, resilience, love, and the occasional hummingbird cameo.
Living with sarcoidosis and heart failure means salt isn’t just a seasoning—it’s sabotage. After three reckless days of comfort food, I learned (again) that a few bites of joy can turn into days of swelling, exhaustion, and regret. Chronic illness has a way of reminding you that indulgence always comes with interest.
After years of battling sarcoidosis and heart failure, I’ve realized that “sick” is just a word—and it doesn’t define me. Between migraines, acupuncture needles, and medical humor that borders on dark roast, I’m still standing, breathing, and occasionally brisk-walking on flat ground.
Growing up with childhood trauma and overwhelming guilt after witnessing my step-father’s heart attack shaped everything—from how I curse, to how I cook, to how I manage chronic illness today. While emotional suppression can increase stress, inflammation, and heart risk, meditation, humor, cooking, and selective profanity helped me survive. If you’ve ever carried guilt, wrestled with grief, or learned to cope quietly, this story will remind you that you’re not the villain—you’re surviving with heart.
Living with chronic illness and heart failure has taught me one thing—complaining doesn’t fix a damn thing. As a chef juggling sarcoidosis, a leaky heart, and life’s general nonsense, I’ve learned that silence isn’t denial—it’s survival. Here’s how I stopped whining, started adapting, and found a strange kind of peace in just getting on with it.