A Bonus story episode from my now closed podcast, "Pan To Pen: A Storytelling Podcast."

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Ever notice how sarcoidosis doesn’t just come for your lungs (or your heart, if it’s feeling ambitious)—it comes for your calendar, your energy, and your bank account too? This is the story of what “good insurance” looks like when the bills have six digits, the premiums creep up like a horror-movie soundtrack, and you realize staying alive in America is a subscription plan you never asked for… but can’t cancel.

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When you’re a writer with chronic illness juggling deadlines, the last thing you expect is your editor ghosting you mid-contract. This cautionary tale dives into how one “faith-filled” editor turned out to be a crook—and what every writer, especially those managing sarcoidosis or other chronic conditions, can learn about protecting themselves (and their wallet).

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This is a bonus episode. A Story from my now closed "Pan to Pen: A Storytelling Podcast"

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In 2007, a routine heart procedure turned into a life-changing diagnosis: heart failure. Nineteen 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.

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Living with sarcoidosis taught me a weird truth: the harder you work to keep your life normal, the more the system charges you for it. Portable oxygen was supposed to mean freedom—walks, errands, road trips, maybe even a little joy—until I met the fine print, the upsells, and the “special charger” that costs more than my first apartment’s microwave. If you’ve ever felt like breathing comes with a subscription fee, this one’s for you.

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Ever wondered what happens when an 18-year-old bank manager gets peer-pressured into a “mandatory meeting” that turns out to be rum shots and card games? Here’s the messy, hilarious, and surprisingly life-defining story of my first and only time getting drunk—complete with spinning rooms, questionable decisions, and one disgusted girlfriend (now wife).

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Living with sarcoidosis and an ICD means my chest has a tiny, judgmental hall monitor clocking my heart 24/7—so I’m fascinated (and slightly alarmed) by how many of us still choose to spend our limited energy angrily shaking our fists at modern medicine. If you’ve ever felt tempted to make complaining your full-time job, this is your gentle, sarcastic nudge to look at what’s actually keeping you here.

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