Sudan Protests XVI or what?

With my last post in mind, I'll try to be reserved in this one.

I'm safe. I'm not Sudanese and I don't live in Sudan. But I have a right to be concerned as a world citizen, as a mother of a half-Sudanese and as one who loves the country and it's people.

When the protests started, more than two weeks ago, I was thrilled and anxious to see this through as best as I could. I've stayed online almost 24/7 and have tweeted and blogged, encouraged and informed between diaper changes and the planning of our son's name ceremony. I've cursed myself for not being able to participate in the protests, in Sudan or by the embassy. I've contacted media and spoken in national radio. I've gotten people involved and have been very passionate about it all. "This is it," I've said, "now the Sudanese have finally woken up!"

But something happened. Or rather, things that happened started to unhappen. Like a building wave that strangely faltered, the protests in Sudan seem to have gotten weaker and weaker.

The world have shown it's support to #SudanRevolts. People have literally put their lives at stake for this revolution to happen. Some 1000 people have gotten arrested and a countless heap have been abused, threatened and mistreated in 1000 different ways. A man died. People got hurt. And while some stubborn activists continue their struggle; online and on ground, the rest seem to have slowly walked back to their houses, closed the curtains and hope that "nothing bad" will happen to them due to their moment of anger.

But bad things will continue to happen to them, no matter if they protest or not. The economy will continue to hit them hard, their lack of freedom will eventually remove their sense of personality and individualism and their ideas and opinions will be unspoken. Their kids; those innocent adorable little persons, will learn to grow up in a prison worse than any "Ghosthouse" or federal prison. Because in this one, the one without bars and walls, you can actually taste the freedom. You have it, right there, but you're either too scared or to indoctrinated and brainwashed that you don't even recognize freedom when you see it.

I think, and I'm going to be totally honest here no matter what kind of possible reactions I might get, that the world (all those people outside of Sudan) that have protested and shown their support for #SudanRevolts feels a bit let down. Disappointed if you choose.

People have travelled far to get to a Sudanese embassy and have been supporting and encouraging in many ways so that the Sudanese won't loose their spirits. And now? What you hear on internet is things like "let's make it happen on Friday!" or "Free this-and-that-person!" But what about the real issue? Why wait for a Friday to bring everyone you know that has something about their government to complain about and hit the streets? Why not now? What better time will there ever be than now?

Everyone in Sudan are unhappy with their government, wether they know it or not. Those who don't know it have simply not been in a situation where they've met the "authorities" because they have privilages of some sort.

I don't know... I'm a bit confused here. Where is this #SudanRevolts that started out so well? What happened to people's courage and "stick to it no matter what"?

I understand fright, I really do. I've been followed and monitored by the Sudanese authorities. Several (in plural!) of my close ones have been questioned, held and tortured by NISS, so believe me when I say I know what they're capable of. But what won't they be capable of if they can beat you down this easily? They will laugh at you, humiliate you, punish you for a number of things that you either did or didn't do.

WAKE UP! 

STAND UP!

MAKE IT HAPPEN!

Sudan Protests XI

Sitting behind a screen, all safe and well, has made me (and I guess many others out there) feel extremely powerless. I want to do so much. I want to be out there in the streets with all brave Sudanese, bake some cookies for them, make them happy and encourage them to continue their struggle. I want to tell everyone that they can do this; they can make Bashir leave and put him to justice as he should have been a loooong time ago. They can withstand the police and the NISS, all without violence. They can do it, simply based on their love for their country and for each other. They can do it with that wonderful humour and friendliness that is so characteristic for the Sudanese people.

I've felt powerless, but today I actually feel that I've done something. Me and my husband (who is Sudanese) was interviewed by Swedish Radio P3 News about Sudan, our experiences and thoughts about what's going on at this moment. And when I get back home, I see that #SudanRevolts has hit the frontpage of one of Sweden's biggest newspapers. Finally the Sudanese people gets some attention from this part of the world!

Here's the web-article from the radio interview.

I hope, with all my heart, that this will be the end of a horrible era filled with violence, war, genocide, torture, discriminations and corruption. And I hope it will be the beginning of a new one, based on democracy, human rights and freedom. I hope every Sudanese soon will feel safe in their own country and among each other. I hope I can go back with my family and show my son how awesome his second home country can be.

Update: It's only 8 PM here but I can hardly keep my eyes open. Been a long day and the little man has kept me busy with babbling, hand clapping and pooping. So, I'm going to leave the writing for today and do my best to disconnect my brain from revolutionary thinking. Some links to provide you with updated info about #SudanRevolts:

- Reuters, Police quell student protest in East Sudan: witnesses
- AhramOnline, Sudan activists call for Tahrir-style million-man protest
- Aljazeera, Sudan using protests "to silence dissenters"
- Alarabiya, U.S. condemns crackdown on Sudan anti-government protests
- SudanRevolts, A Statement from the Broad National Front to the Youth of Sudan
- Foreign Policy, The Sudanese Standup
- Sudanese Online, Statement on the latest developments of the protests in Sudan for public dessimenation
- Sudanese Online, Omer al-Bashir: Take a Look over Your Shoulder
- Sudanreeves, Sudan: Desperate for Regime Change Over Many Years

Back to Reality

It feels surreal that I was in Egypt just 9 days ago. It feels much longer, or that I haven't been there at all. It's like one of those strange dreams that leaves you waking up confused, not knowing what was real and what wasn't. I was just away for three months - it's incredible how much can happen during such a short time. My whole life as I knew it is gone and once back in Sweden I'm suddenly in a completely new role, with different visions and plans. I'm still me, but things have definitely changed.

I've been having trouble sleeping since I got back, but I hope that will change within the next week. It has to. It's amazing how apparently small happenings can turn into enormous life changing moments, revolutions on the inside and outside. I know I'm not making much sense at the moment, but hopefully I will catch up with my thoughts and feelings soon enough.

Cairo: Chaotic Tranquility

7,8 million people in a jungle of concrete, smog, chaos and bustling city life and one of them had the courage, strength and love to bring me all the way from Sweden. I didn't leave my safe haven behind, not exactily, but rather took a break from it to pick up the pieces of my life that have been scattered around the world and at a later time return as a complete person. 

I'm in Cairo; a muddle of dusty streets, fabulous history, shouting people and tempting souqs. And I'm here with Khalid, the man who have seen me for who I truly am when no one else had faith in me. I consider myself to be the luckiest woman on earth right now and I have a strong feeling that I'll continue to feel that way. By chance, I was lucky enough to land in the country of pharaos and white sharks at the same time as his family whom I haven't seen since my days of glory in Sudan. From now on, they're my family too.

Cairo is fascinating, but far from the mystic legends and stories you associate Egypt with. Knowing that I would have enough time in the city, I have yet to experience the grandeur of the pyramids, the labyrinths of Islamic Cairo and the mosques. Instead I've gotten a taste of the everyday life of the Caironians. I can't imagine a furure in this city (or any other large city for that matter), but spending some time here is definitely a positive experience I'll cherish for a very long time. I prefer the personality of villages or small cities, and in a week or two we'll pack our bags, get on a night-bus and head for the Red Sea. I know I can spend a long time there without being bored or wishing to be elsewhere. But really, I'd rather be in chaotic Cairo with Khalid than in a paradise village by the sea without him.

Self Punishing Drama Queens

If one wonders why I keep on publishing less than polite comments in my blog, it's because I don't feel the need to hide anything. True, I have chosen to not publish a few, comments that shed a bad light on my person and the people around me, but the rest are out in the open. As I've stated earlier; I refuse to be censured and will not censure others unless I have a very good reason to. This is after all, my blog, where I choose the contents and write about what's in my heart and on my mind. No one is forced to read it, and if one for some reason would feel bad/sad/upset/annoyed/insert any other negative emotion, then I suggest you simply forget the address and stop reading right here. 

I'm living my life in honesty. Days of denial and lies belong to the past - they lead nowhere but downhill. I have had my fair amount of people around me that have seemed to be drawn to any kind of drama - anything to relieve them of their dull every day life. These are people that gossip, fish for information (true or false) and keep on punishing themselves by doing things that really don't make them feel any better at all. They read their partner's texts and emails, they tell all their friends about their suspected alcoholic neighbor, they keep track on their exes and devote their lives to make life hell for anyone that don't want to share their drama.

This blog has turned into a soap opera - far from my initial intentions, and for that I appologize. I'm partly guilty for it, for I have encouraged the drama by trying to "defend" myself from stupid and meaningless comments. By giving them the attention, I have encouraged them to continue. I'm aware of the consequences this post might have, but my point in writing this is simply to state that I'm done. No more of that. I'll continue to publish comments if I find them suitable, but I will not reply to rude or impolite comments.

A Modern Layla and Majnun - Part II

If you haven't already, read A Modern Layla and Majnun - Part I first. Now, let's continue the story...

On the return to Sweden, the woman went straight to looking for an apartment that they both could be happy in. The man was still in Sudan, but on a cold October night he stepped out of the airplane in Stockholm. A new chapter of their lives had just begun.

Shortly after their longed for reunion, the woman, who had suffered from depressions for many years, was again stricken with the dark cloud of angst. It became more and more difficult for her to see through it and eventually she ended up blind to the world's happiness. She was so blinded by her angst that she failed to see the slow fall of her beloved. The man was new to the country and the culture. He didn't understand a word of what was being said in the streets and his pride took a punch when he realized how difficult it would be to get a job in this cold country. 

The relationship was going down and neither the woman or man had the strength to save it. One cold evening, about a year after he first arrived to Sweden, he went to the bus station and left.

Three years went by. They met occationally and the atmosphere were always tensed. The tension sometimes escalated to hate. The man was upset with the way the woman lived her life, and the woman was upset because she thought that it no longer was his concern.

Then one day, the man decided to leave Sweden. Since he had developed a good relationship with the woman's family, he came to visit more frequently now that he knew that it might be a long time that he could see them again, if ever. The woman, who realized that the man was about to leave for good, slowly started to soften to his words. The days grew closer to the departure, and with that, the angst of again loosing him. He had, after all, always been close. She had known that she could see him more or less whenever she wanted to, but now, that was about to change.

The night before the departure, there was an explosion of emotions. The air in the room, where the man and woman was sitting, was literally static with electricity and so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Although they hardly even touched, just sat and looked at eachother and ocationally talked about nonsense, a long lost connection was rebuild. Their souls entwined, their hearts beat the same rythm and a blessing was laid upon them. It said: you will meet again.

To be continued at a later date...

A Modern Layla and Majnun - Part I

Layla sits dreaming of her lost love

Layla and Majnun is based on the true stories of the Bedouin poet Qays ibn al-Mulawwah ibn Muzahim and Layla bint Mahdi ibn Sa'd. The story tells of a 7th century A.D young poet called Qays, who falls in love with a girl born in a rich family from the same tribe.  In his poems he proclaimed his love for her and asked her father for her hand. Even though Qays and Layla had grown up together, and they both loved each other dearly, the father refused since Qays wasn't wealthy enough. Soon after Layla is given to another man in marriage, whom took her to the area of today's Iraq, got ill and eventually died.

The name Layla means "night" in arabic, which some people believe to mean that the couple in secrecy continued their relationship. The name Majnun means "a crazy person", which became his name after he went mad for being refused to marry Layla.

Qays left his tribe to wonder the desert as a wild man and became known as Majnun. He was later found dead in the wilderness in 688 AD, near an unknown woman's grave. Three verses of poetry was carvedon a rock close to the grave. According to the Persian Nezami's version of the story, Layla and Majnun meets for the last time before their deaths. Both have fainted and Majnun's elderly messenger attemptsto revive Layla while wild animals protect the couple from unwelcomed intruders. 

Here's my adaption of my own story of Layla and Majnun:

The merciless heat of the Sudanese summer was coming to an end when the woman sat in a bumby raksha on her way through the dusty gravel roads to her first day at work. She was going to be a consultant for a small organization that were removing land mines from the country side. Her main task was going to be to teach English to the local staff in the main office. Among the locals was a man. His eyes were constantly glowing, and when he was smiling, he did it with his whole face. The woman was a khawadja, a westerner, and the man was a Sudanese arab.

The friendship was soon to arrive, and after came the relationship. Despite cultural and religious differences they managed to make the difficulties to challanges to be overcome. Love had showed her pretty face.

The woman's family, who was in Sweden, were not too happy about the relationship. They were worried about his religion. Many westerners have prejudices about arabs and her family was no exceptions. They thought that in case of a marriage, he would force her to become a muslim, kidnap their children and bring them back to Sudan, that he would beat her and abuse her in other ways. His family was cautious too. The woman had to endure a long list of questions about her values and plans for the future. The questioning though, lead to the woman being accepted by the family and the relationship could now be official.

The man went to a mission in Darfur, a huge area in the south-western parts of the country that is known for war, conflicts, rapes, burning of entire villages, huge refugee camps, death, misery and kidnapping... The man, who was there on mission for a different organization, was kidnapped with his collegue by rebels, accused of working for the government. All connection with the man was broken and no one heard from him in almost two weeks. The woman was inconsolable. Her eyes were constantly filled with tears and the horror and worry that she felt was indescribable. 

The UN had finally managed to negotiate with the rebels to free them. A few days later the man arrived back in the capital. Without respect of the prohibition of showing affection in public, the man and woman threw themselves in each others arms, kissed and cried of joy and relief. An engagement was settled and the man's family threw them a combined welcome home and engagement party. A few days later the woman had to leave her beloved fiancé and return to Sweden.

To be continued...

Solitude - Part I

"Solitude"

There are different ways of defining the word solitude:

• the state of being solitary or secluded 
• a state of social icolation
• the state or sitation of being alone
• a state of being alone, or withdrawn from society; a lonely life; lonelyness.
• the state of being or living alone 

In most cases, solitude is not chosen. It happened for reasons that you either could or couldn't prevent. Maybe you did something so bad that your friends chose to fully or partly exclude you from their lives. Solitude can also be a result of a somewhat innocent person falling sick and no longer has the strength to keep her social life going. Suddenly there are other things to top the priority list of what is most important in your life. For example: would you prefer to fight for your will to stay alive, or would you rather keep going as normal and as a result; loose your life.

In my case, I lost my friends when I no longer had the will to live. I was in a deep depression and on a number of Hulk-strong pills to keep me calm and keep the suicidal thoughts away from my head. At this time, it wasn't even in me to call my friends, to keep relationships going and to pretend to be this super social gal I used to be. So I lost my friends. Three stayed (Anna, Frida and Jakob). For them, I will forever be greatful and I wish with all my being that one day I will be forever free the disabling angst so that I can show how much you really mean to me. I love you guys, from the bottom of my soul; I thank you.

During the years, the depressions have come back, and the problems with it. I've been slipping away from those dear friends even when I at times have had the courage to talk to them, and on occasion even see them. Anna moved to Oslo. Frida lives closer, but is busy. Jakob lives in Göteborg and is probably equally busy.

I'm really working on it, but it's still hard to be in social places with a lot of people. I never feel more alone than I do in a room full of people. Taking the bus to Göteborg is a huge undertaking even though it's only an hour away. This is probably the hardest part to explain; how I can't come have coffee in Borås or go to a party in Göteborg. I can't, because although I've worked hard to get where I am today, I'm not quite there yet. I so wish I was. Because at this time, it feels like even those three remaining friends are slipping away from me. I can't have that happen. That would certanily be the final blow. But what can I do to prevent that from happening? How can I prove to them that I'm worth to come visit, even if I can't come see them?

Patience

 Some of the smartest dummies

Can’t read the language of Egyptian mummies
An’ a fly go a moon
And can’t find food for the starving tummies

Pay no mind to the youths
Cause it’s not like the future depends on it
But save the animals in the zoo
Cause the chimpanzee dem a make big money
 

This is how the media pillages
On the TV the picture is
Savages in villages
And the scientist still can’t explain the pyramids, huh
 

Evangelists making a living on the videos of ribs of the little kids
Stereotyping the image of the images
And this is what the image is
You buy a khaki pants
And all of a sudden you say a Indiana Jones
An’ a thief out gold and thief out the scrolls and even the buried bones
Some of the worst paparazzis I’ve ever seen and I ever known
 

Put the worst on display so the world can see
And that’s all they will ever show
So the ones in the west
Will never move east
And feel like they could be at home
 

Dem get tricked by the beast
But a where dem ago flee when the monster is fully grown?
Solomonic linage whe dem still can’t defeat and them coulda never clone
My spiritual DNA that print in my soul and I will forever Own Lord

- from Patience by Nas & Damian Marley

Awkward Moments Concerning Scarfs

This picture represents one of the most awkward and wierd (even humiliating) situations I've ever experienced. 

For many years, my favourite garment has been the scarf. I usually wear it wrapped around my head, partly or fully covering my hair. It has no religious significance for me and I only wear it because it's comfortable and nice. My favourite wrap is what I suppose is most common in Africa and I like it in strong colours matched with big ear rings.

On this occation, I was in a shopping mall in Dubai. UAE is a pretty conservative country, where most muslim women wear veils and cover most parts of their body. My head wrap had started to slide back, so I went to the ladie's room to tie it up. All was well until two typical Dubai women (who must have been sisters), dressed in long flowing black garments covering everything except their faces, entered the room and went to fix their veils on each side of me in front of the mirror. I gave them a greeting smile but got none in return, only a raised eyebrow.

Now, covering your hair is a norm for muslim women in Dubai, and fixing your veil once in a while is a necessity. But since covering your hair is considered a part of Islam, I suppose the two women thought I was a proper wierdo for first of all being an obvious westerner and second of all wearing a head wrap. The situation that arose is very hard to discribe, but the two women on either side of me were glancing at each other and at me, then back to each other and frowned. This lasted for a couple of minutes, but it felt like a forever. I was being looked down at and got the feeling that I, as a stupid westerner, had no right in wearing a scarf for whatever reason. It was all very very uncomfortable and I mustered all my strength to not give up my attempt with fixing the scarf and run out of the ladie's room - and so letting them win. I took my time, did my best to ignore their disparaging looks and then left the room calmly (I hope).

Afterwards I can see the comic parts of the situation and try to gather some kind of wisdom from it. It taught  me how important it is not to judge other people; not based on their looks, past or anything at all. Judging is not my task. It also taught me not to be affected by other people's judgement (although I still find that very hard). I did, after all, follow the clothing norm in Dubai. My hair was covered, although for different reasons than most other women in the city. It doesn't matter. No one should be looked down at based on their looks, where they come from or what language they speak.

The Secret of Bliss

It took me two days before I could start to write this. Two days of an unimaginable storm of emotions rushing through me, messing up all rational thinking and still letting me see clearly for a long long time. I have sought the source of happiness for most of my adult life, searching for that one thing that will allow me to feel bliss. I had no luck, until two days ago.

Linda called me, after what seemed like forever. I had been waiting impatiantly all day. We knew there would be news from the children's hospital in Göteborg about Jamie's cancer; either the tumour had shrunk in a satisfying way allowing a surgery, or more cytotoxin would be required. This is what happened:

Me: Did they call? What did they say??

Linda: Well, there is one good news...

Me: Tell me! What is it?!

Linda: At least there won't be any more cytotoxin!

Me: Wohoooo! That's wonderful! So when is the surgery?!

Linda: Well... there won't be a surgery either...

Silence.

Me: What do you mean?

Now I was thinking the worst. Is there nothing else they can do for him? Is this it?

Linda: He doesn't need it, the tumour isn't a threat anymore!

When the information started to sink in, I started to cry. An erruption of pure happiness and relief just surged through me. I've never in my whole life felt anything like this. It's a bloody miracle! Jamie doesn't have cancer anymore! I thought I had my priorities in life, and I thought that happiness was something that occured to the individual, something that had to do with your ego. But no, bliss is found in the caring of others, nothing less. I cried of happiness that whole day; for Jamie that will have a life, a future. For Linda, who no longer will suffer from the angst and worry of loosing her child and to see him suffer. For Jamie's brothers, who will have their baby brother to tease and to play with. For the whole family, that no longer need to imagine a future without the baby, and for all friends, who have prayed, hoped and crossed their fingers.

So many people have followed this baby's struggles through cancer and in their best ways supported his mother, kept her strong, made her not give up. I think it's the power of all these people, who made this miracle happen.

From now on, my previous worries are nothing. I no longer care about ignorant people acting out of jealousy, of bad things being said about me. I don't care about money or other material things. All that are just trifles and not worthy my energy. What I do care for, is my family and friends. They are what make me happy and keeps me going, and I will do anything that is in my power to make them feel what I feel right now. Nothing is more important than that.

So, to all my friends and family: I love you!

And to my foes: Fuck off.

The picture is borrowed from Souls Talking Brain.

Good old Slander

So today mum showed me something interesting. I must be quite something if someone puts so much energy into despising me and letting everyone know it. Lies are easily spread and easily forgotten, but the dirt you get on your hands while spreading them will not go away for a very long time and it will be that that people will first notice about you.

Endless Waiting

Cover of Moby's album "wait for me."

This past couple of months have been nothing but an endless waiting; from important information about a baby with cancer to a decicion from CSN about my student's loan and everything in between. I can be patient about many things, and God knows I have been. But of lately, it's been more and more difficult with all this waiting. Maybe it's because the things are just building up into a sticky pile of foul smelling mud. I'm way too sensitive to anything emotionally or personally stressful at the moment. I feel like I'm walking on shattered glass, flinching every time the phone or door bell rings.

I'm trying to bury my head in the sand and ignore all the irrational emotions disabling me. I do it with my head deep in books or my eyes staring at the screen where some B-movie is playing. I'm trying to think ahead, of all the things I'll be able to do when all this is over, when things are solved, forgotten, left behind. But I have noticed that if I let myself think at all, then the thoughts are automatically drawn in the wrong direction. My head is like a magnet to stress. I take the edge off by drinking camomile tea. I wonder if it's possible to consume too much of it? I hope not.

Well, good news is that CSN called a few days ago saying that if I can get my doctor to add something to the medical certificate (explaining why I couldn't fulfil my studies last semester) then I'll have my money soon. So now I'm waiting for my doctor to send that additional letter to me. Maybe tomorrow. I also got an email from my student councellor saying that I can switch the courses I'm currently on and still be eligible for the bachelor course next semester. That's great news. I registered on a couple of courses within the field of pedagogy and are now waiting to get admitted.

We're hoping to get information from the child hospital in Göteborg today about Jamie's tumour. If it shrunk enough since last cytotoxin treatment, then he will hopefully have his surgery soon. How great would it be to get rid of that small but devastating lump on his back once and for all! It's strange, that something so small can cause so much trouble and pain, not only for the baby but for everyone around him and his family. Child cancer is a mean thing, it tears people's lives up. Please contribute to the research by learning more about the disease, becoming a member or donate to the Child Cancer Fund (Swedish). All this can be done here.

Freedom of Expression

My version of censorship.

"If we don't believe in freedom of expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all."

Noam Chomsky

If my blog makes you upset, for whatever reason, then I advice you to stop reading it. This is where I express my personal thoughts, opinions and feelings and if you feel designated by my words, then it's up to you to deal with. I write about subjects that I care for and I don't mention any names unless they are used in a positive sense. I will not be censured or silenced. Use your free will to choose what you want to read, and leave  behind what you don't want to hear.

Can't Buy Him Love

"Bring it!"

I know desperation when I see it, because I've been there myself and therefore have some understanding of what one is willing to do for the sake of getting or keeping what you most desire. But there are limits. I have kept quiet for a while now, been patient and waited things out so that problems could be solved without me interfering, but when you target my family (who have nothing what so ever to do with your problems) then I have to speak up.

And contacting my ex boyfriend? Give me a break.

Life is strange. The roads you walk can take sudden turns, sometimes you end up in a cul-de-sac. Sometimes you get lost. I dare say that I was walking the wrong road for a long time and finally made it back to the main road. It wasn't planned - none of this was planned and I'm sorry that it had to affect others, but that's life. Shit happens, sometimes by your own hand. I believe this is what happened in this case, but I'm not going to point any fingers. All concerned will know their own mistakes and faults, including me.

I'm not a material girl, and I don't believe that  money or anything material can buy a person's happiness. Most of us are grown ups, who of course help each other when possible. I don't make important decisions for the sake of money and expect it to make me happy, or even loved. The people I care about have about the same attitude and I know that I will never have to prove my affection to them by providing money or material things when they are fully capable of taking care of themselves. I expect to be treated the same way. 

Some things are meant to be, some things aren't.

Good News vs. Police Razzia

The bump on Jamie's back turned out to be an enlarged muscle, thank goodness. We're all so relieved and sort of in a shock. Although most of us were more or less sure that it wasn't another tumour, the worries was still there and the good news was like putting the air out of a huge balloon about to explode. I can't even express what I feel right now. Sure, he's still not eating enough, but he's so much better than last week, and with the good news all the hopes we all had gathered are back. I have no doubt what so ever that there soon will be a surgery to remove the foul tumour once and for all and that Jamie will get fully recovered and live the happy life he so much deserves.

I'm staying with Linda and her beautiful kids since they got back from the MRI. Last night I shared bedroom with Jamie and I can now stop worrying that I wouldn't wake up when I'm sleeping in the same room as a baby. I woke up every time he moved or sighed or when he dropped his dummy. It was definitely good training for future happenings!

And now to the happening of the day. Me, Linda and Sara were out running a few errands and were on our way back. Linda was driving her car with Jamie in the front and me, Sara and baby Nova in the back. We were 100 m from the house when suddenly we saw the characteristic blinking blue lights in an under cover police car behind us. Linda stopped and out marched two officers asking for her driving's licence. She got to blow in this alcohol reading device. All was in order, until one of the officers said no to let us go. Suddenly another police car showed up and in a few seconds we had officers blocking all of the car doors, refusing to let any of us out, including Sara with her screaming baby who was really really hungry.

They said they suspected that Linda was affected by some drugs (?!) and asked her to step out and get in their car to do an eye test. Poor, poor Linda who has had enough for years to come was about to burst, just as me and Sara who sat helpless and locked in in the back of the car, forbidden to touch our phones or even close the doors to avoid the babies to freeze. Naturally Linda was allowed to go.

I have never experienced such social incompetence in the Swedish police force. They claimed it was a "routine control". Do they have it as a routine to be SO unpleasant and rude too? They had no reason what so ever to put Linda, or anyone for that matter, in a position like that, making her and the rest of us feel guilty for something we didn't do. To put someone through that, they need an underlying reason - something that they didn't have. I know that I can't properly describe the situation in words. Let's just say that no professional should act the way they did. Two babies were crying their lungs out and they couldn't even let one of the mothers stand outside the car OR close the doors so that they wouldn't freeze. What did they think; that we would pick out our automatics and start shooting? Or that we would pick up the babies and run into the bushes?

It was shameful, the way they acted. All the neighbors were watching through the windows, embarrassing all of us. What must they think now? I hope that the responsible officers will understand that they acted completely unprofessional and rude. Be sure that I will do my best to make that happen. This is not what it should be like in Sweden (or anywhere else for that matter).

The Bubble Burst

I slept last night; 10 hours of well needed sleep to gather my strenght before I headed back to the hospital. Mum is spending the night there instead of me and I'm at home with my darling sister Sara and mini brother Anton. I went to the hospital with my nan and aunt. Linda seemed a little bit more spirited than yesterday, not much, but a little bit. That's a start. Jamie was ok too, he's snotty and isn't eating or drinking well, but he was in a good mood and made everyone around him smile. He got extra fluid through IV and mum is taking good care of him.

So I got home, and something I have said would happen, really happened. It's not a good thing, not at all. I've been nagging and moaning about this for the past few weeks, but I've been pretty much powerless in this, as I am in so many things around me right now. But today my bubble burst and I had enough. Let things turn out as they may from now on, I've done my part, nothing more I can do.

I'm shaking with anger and angst (I had to type that sentence three times to get it right). This is coming to an end tonight, either with or without my hand.

Dealing With a Crisis at the Child Ward

Darling Jamie

 This day is coming to an end. This morning Jamie was drowsier than he has been for the last few days. He has hardly eaten and have been sleeping a lot. When Linda had taken the elder sons to kindergarden and school, she broke. All the strength she had just left her as soon as she got back and there was nothing I could do to put the strength back into her. Mum came, and the four of us went to the hospital, where we made the staff understand that this isn't working anymore. They got a room in the child ward and will most likely stay there until it's time for the MRI on Tuesday. Mum is spending the night with them, and tomorrow I'll take over. I needed a night away, not for selfish reasons but because I need to gather the strength it takes to be the support that she needs and at the same time take care of Jamie. It's not good enough to drive myself to a point when I can't be of any help at all. Better to take a break, breathe, rest and get back with renewed strength.

The medical examination went well. His blood values were better than last time they checked and he had gained weight. The bumb on his back had not changed and he responded well when checking for reflexes and the strength in his legs. All looks good, and we're all keeping our many fingers crossed that the bump is nothing but an enlarged muscle that have compensated for the other side of his back, where the original tumour is. He's been lively and in a good mood all day and neither me nor the hospital staff is particulary worried about him at the moment. The real anxiety and worries lies with Linda. I so wish I could lighten her burden.

Me and mum have take turns in taking care of Jamie and Linda. There's not much you can do, other than stroke her hair, come up with stupid conversations to keep her from thinking too much and get her coffee. I wish there was more. I wish God would show himself and his mercy now. What God would let a child and his mother suffer like this?

You are not alone Linda, and never will be. When you break, we will pick up your pieces, glue them together and take over everything until the glue has dried. We're here for you; me, Sara (you're an amazing friend to Linda and the whole family is greatful for the support you give her) and every other family and friend around you. And you will see, soon all this is over, and you can start living your life again with all three of your boys.

Child Cancer

Does this baby look like he has cancer?

Second day at Linda's place. There's been visits to the hospital with baby Jamie every day and will continue like that until Tuesday when the MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) is in Göteborg. It will be a few very long days of anxious waiting for Linda and everyone else involved. I wish there was more I could do to lighten the burden for her, to carry some of her pain.

I'm not very good at comforting, especially when there isn't much I can say or do to comfort. Her child has cancer and is under treatment. The doctors have high hopes for him to be fully recovered, but of course darling Linda is going through hell until the good news reach her. I wish I could speed up time for her and Jamie. At least he's young enough to not have any memory of all the horrible treatments, but the rest will have to deal with the trauma they're going through right now.

If I was a telepath I would transfer hope and happy thoughts into her head, make her understand that everything will be ok. He will get fully recovered, and have a long long life full off happiness, love and wonderful experiences. I know if from the deepest parts of my heart and soul.

Linda, my dearest, beautiful, darling sister; I love you from the bottom of my heart, and I will always be there for you, whenever and however. I know I'm not always the great support that you need, but I assure you that I'm doing my very very best. Again, I love you!

The Plot is Thickening

Strokkur on Iceland

I have a tendency to get in the middle of the most dramatic intrigues, more similar to a soap opera than real life. It would be foolish of me to think that my life would remain calm for a more than a week or two. The illusionary peace I from time to time experience makes me equally surprised and cautious. Surprised because it happens rarely and cautious because the calm usually is a sign of an approaching storm. Things that don't happen to normal people surely happens to me. Why that is, I have no idea. I definitely don't seek out drama, although I have to admit that in some cases my choices have lead me to it. Like going to Sudan of all places. Maybe you should expect that making such a choice will lead to kidnappings, a bugged phone and persecutions from the security police. I should have expected that my passport would get stolen by a police man, that I would have to bribe the right people just to get out of the country. I should have known.

I should have expected to get mysteriously ill from something that the doctors are clueless about, that family members would try to commit suicide a number of times, that they would nearly get killed in assaults and car crashes, get cancer, be alcoholics and that I would loose my friends, fall in love. How could I not have known? Maybe I should take the "hope for the best, expect the worst" more literally from now on.

The picture of the geysir Strokkur on Iceland is borrowed from pixdaus.com.