Private Chef, Writer & Podcaster
If you’ve ever tried to recreate a TV chef’s “simple” dinner and ended up wondering if you accidentally auditioned for a survival show, you’re not alone. As someone juggling sarcoidosis, heart failure, and a full-time chef life, let’s just say I’ve learned exactly how misleading those glossy cooking programs can be. And no—I’m still not over the raw chicken incident.
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.
Living with sarcoidosis is already its own exhausting full-time job, so the idea of a support group sounded…promising. Or at least not disastrous. But back in the early 2010s, when my lungs and heart were misbehaving like rebellious teenagers, the search for “people like me” turned into something far stranger than comforting. I won’t spoil the whole story here, but let’s just say it involved Christmas ornaments, long train rides, and me realizing the person I actually needed to find was somewhere else entirely. Maybe someone like you.
Between the dishes, the meds, and the chaos of chronic illness, it’s easy to wonder if you were meant for something bigger. But what if your true purpose isn’t grand at all—just one quiet, human act that changes everything? This heartfelt reflection explores finding meaning in small kindnesses while living with sarcoidosis and all of life’s messy imperfections.
Tate Basildon 