Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
In 2007, a routine heart procedure turned into a life-changing diagnosis: heart failure. Eighteen years later, I’m still here—living with sarcoidosis, a defibrillator in my chest, and the constant awareness that my next heartbeat might depend on a tiny piece of metal and code. This is what surviving with an AICD really feels like—equal parts miracle, nuisance, and reminder to keep going.
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.
Living with sarcoidosis is like starring in a medical drama no one else can see—one where you look perfectly fine on the outside while your organs do the cha-cha backstage. Back in 2011, when all of this felt new and terrifying, I kept most of it to myself. Now, looking back from 2025, I can’t help but revisit how invisible everything looked… especially to everyone who insisted I “didn’t look sick.” There’s a lot more to the story, but you’ll have to come inside for the rest.
A chef living with chronic illness discovers that sometimes life’s soggy disappointments lead to unexpected beauty—like when a canceled dog walk turns into a rainbow moment that slaps you with perspective. A story about resilience, humor, and finding color in the drizzle.
Living with chronic illness can be exhausting—but sometimes, the best medicine isn’t in a prescription bottle. For me, it came in the form of two tiny Gauls named Asterix and Obelix. This heartfelt reflection explores how nostalgia, humor, and childhood comfort shows like Asterix & Obelix help me cope with sarcoidosis, heart failure, and the unpredictable chaos of chronic illness.
Tate Basildon 