The Wake-Up Call.

Biianka has nothing whatsoever to do with the content of this post. She's just too darn cute not to be in it.

It's been seven weeks since my surgery. The snow is starting to melt, and I am starting to heal. And think. Make plans.

When I first found out about my cancer, I thought is was so ridiculously unfair. "Isn't cancer supposed to be a wake-up call, a reminder that life is precious and evanescent, a chance to appreciate what you have, to gain perspective on things and to start focusing on what really is important? Well come on, Universe,  I've already done all of this! Losing my best friend to cancer was all the reminder I needed that life can be taken from you at any moment, thank you very much - do you seriously need to rub it in? What more do you want from me?!"

Obviously, the truth is that no, cancer is not a wake-up call. Cancer is a shitty fucking bastard of a disease, completely without rhyme or reason. It has no idea what's fair and what isn't, and honestly it couldn't care less.

But that doesn't mean we can't still choose to see it that way.

Fanny didn't survive her cancer, I did. (Knock on wood.) She gained all kinds of perspective, I'll tell you that - I didn't have the privilege of knowing her before she got sick the first time, while she was still in high school, but I do know that when she got through it, she decided to live her life to the absolute fullest. I've never met anyone so keen on following her dreams, on experiencing every single thing life had to offer, on leaving a positive, inspirational imprint on every person she came in contact with.

The second time Fanny got sick, her view on life did not exactly change, but it definitely evolved. She realized that some of the things she had been working so hard for didn't really matter, and that she wanted to focus all of her energy on what was truly meaningful. And she did. I just wish, with all of my heart, that she would have had the chance to keep on doing it for at least another 70 years.

I learned so much from her. When she was healthy as well as when she was sick. After she passed away, I tried so hard to live in a way she would have encouraged. But I simply couldn't. I only knew how to live my life with her in it.

So: I do choose to see my illness as a wake-up call. Because although I already knew all too well that none of us will live forever, I still didn't have the strength, the energy or even the desire to make the rest of my life count.

I had surgery. They took the cancer out. It might come back, but also, it might not. Either way, I've been given a new chance, and I'm taking this opportunity to make some radical changes. I have had a lot of time to think about what kind of life I want to live, what I truly want to do, and for the first time in years, I've actually listened to myself. Instead of just dismissing my dreams as unrealistic, unreasonable, "impossible", I've decided to break down these stupid boundaries I've set for myself and do whatever it takes to make these dreams come true.

I do realize that this post might seem more than a little obscure and vague, and I'm sorry about that, but I've really tried to share my thoughts without giving out more than I'm comfortable with.

What I'm trying to say with this post is that though I don't believe that bad things happen to us "for a reason", that doesn't mean we can't still try our very best to learn from them, and we should take every opportunity to give our choices and decisions some serious thought. Are we being true to ourselves? Are we doing with our lives what we really want, or are we simply too scared to admit to ourselves that we were wrong, that we made our decisions based on other people's expectations, or that we simply have changed our minds?

Whatever the answer is, I hope and pray that you won't need a wake-up call like mine to make the changes necessary for living the kind of life you desire and deserve.

Please, please, please.

Today is World Cancer Day.

I spend this day missing my best friend Fanny just as much as I always do. Donating what I can to her personal fund at Cancerfonden (a Swedish organisation for cancer research), wishing for the 1034039486034980th time that I was a billionaire who could actually make a goddamn difference. Telling myself that together we might just might a change, that one day the scientists will crack the code and we won't have to lose our loved ones or our own lives to this disease.

Doubting,

hoping.

But right now, I need to ask you this:
Please go do your pap smears (I promise you it's not scary at all, it doesn't hurt and it's over before you know it!),
please stop smoking or just don't start,
please wear sunscreen (with a high SPF!) and stay in the shade when you can,
please be observant and attentive to any changes in your breasts, birthmarks or anywhere else on or inside your body,
please don't hesitate to see a doctor when you're worried that something's wrong,

and please, please, please, donate a dollar or a hundred or whatever you can spare to cancer research, because we can do our best to minimize the risks, but the truth is that however hard we try, we are never safe.

We're all playing the lead in our own lives, we feel sheltered by the fact that we're different, special; by our hopes and dreams and amibitions, by the things we own and by how busy we are, by our faith, by mere chance ("after everything I've been through these past few years, there's no way I could get sick on top of it all"), by the people who love us and the ones we've touched. Absolutely impossible to imagine that the script could change from a heartbeat to the next, that the play could simply go on without us.

And still, 7.6 million people die of cancer every year. 7.6 million individuals who are no less special than you or me.

This all sounds terribly melodramatic, I know. Well, that's the thing about cancer. It's not a whole lot of fun. Actually, it's pure fucking crap and I wish from the bottom of my heart that it can, and will, be cured. And rather sooner than later. Please?

Snapshots.

Springtime might still be far away, but I strive to create my own spring indoors. A complete excess of tulips goes a long way!

My cats are weird as always.

But that's okay, because so am I.

My least favorite time of the day: 8 pm. I need to inject myself with an anticoagulant (blood thinner) every night to prevent blood clots. Let's just say I don't love it.

Mjölkstuvade makaroner and meat balls. Mmmm. That I love. My favorite meal when I was a kid, actually, it sort of still is. That and lobster, though preferably not at the same time.

What's with the expressions?! You guys scare me. Good thing you're so cuddly off camera.

I can't remember the last time I got this much reading done. I've gotten through six novels since my surgery, which is pretty insane, considering that I've been asleep about 99% of the time. (At least that's what it feels like.) Reading is the one thing I have energy for. That, and watching Gossip Girl, Glee and silly romantic comedies.


All right darlings. That's it for now. You are all wonderful, in case you didn't know.