The chapter before the story can start

A little over two weeks ago I received a phone call that has started a huge chain reaction in my life. I'd been preparing for it, knowing it was coming but like with so many things in life you can't really imagine what it's going to be like when it finally happens. I had been matched with a mission. Despite the fact that I've been thinking about it for years and that it's exactly what I've been planning for, for months now it still came as a chock. Obviously I was happy, I kept jumping up and down and smiling while I got the details, but then came the nerves. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut, like I needed to throw up. This was it, this was real and it wasn't just some dream or far away plan, this was going to happen - and soon.

I got the weekend to think about it but to be honest I didn't need it, I knew I was going to go, it's the perfect mission for me - I'll be working with babies, how do you say no to that? Well if you're me you don't. I was scared and that was the big hurdle, but once I talked to my family and they bombarded me with all the questions a loving and protecting family could possibly think of, and I had to answer them with what I know and try to calm them down, I found that the fear slowly disappeared. I told them that I felt safe going - and I didn't lie. Still, I was concerned and nervous about everything from cultural differences to my own competencies as a doctor, and the more I thought about it the more I got confused and blocked. It was just such a typical "me" reaction. I over-think and over-analyze everything and mostly the answer I find is that I can't do it. I'm not good enough or brave enough or whatever other reason I might come up with, and I end up not doing anything, just feeling frustrated and stuck. It's the story of my life - but I'm so sick of that story! So the evening after receiving the phone call I decided that not only was I going to go, I was going to kick ass. Yes, just that simple. I'm going to go and I'm going to do my very best and no matter how it turns out, at least I'm not going to be the girl who stands in her own way anymore.

This was cold winter ground in April, you forget how much can happen in a couple of weeks.

When the present turns to past

One click leads to the next and suddenly, without really knowing how, a familiar tune begins playing on my Spotify. Immediately I'm transported to another time, facing another screen, where words quickly and emotionally are tied up together to form a poem, a note or a letter. I can feel the teenage heart pounding in my chest and the deep sigh of relief when the words are out - out of my head and on "paper". Words that no one will ever see, but that still exist, as a proof of all the jumbled up thoughts that once lived in my head. Words I had forgotten but that are brought back by lyrics sung by Swedish boys. I can even now feel the calmness that settled after a good writing session. The song also brings up faces I haven't seen in years, names I haven't said in ages and emotions I'd even forgotten I could experience. Youth really is for the young - no one else has the energy to feel as much, have highs as high and lows as low as them. I always forget that I've had that range, that even now, when I freak out and tears are unstoppable, it's not a teenage-freakout, it's a grown-up-freakout - and those are far easier to handle, because no matter what, you know that feelings pass, times pass and suddenly you're not in this moment anymore, suddenly it's just a memory triggered by a song.

Who needs a time machine when you have music?

Finding your words

People say that the biggest changes in your life come slowly and you don't even notice when suddenly you're a completely different person. The big things are so big you can't see them until you get some distance. This has become surprisingly evident the last couple of days. 

Let's flash back twenty years; I'm an eight year old girl who loves school is good at it but never wants to say anything in class, horrified by the thought of everybody looking at her. We move up a couple of years; I'm now in eight grade and I write a story for my Swedish class that is about a girl dealing with grief. My teacher takes me to the side after class and tells me that there's an author hidden in me, that I have a way with words. I go home floating on clouds after that and it makes me speak up at school - I feel like I have something to say. We head up another couple of years; We're having a class in high school where we're supposed to talk for five minutes each about three things that has formed us in our lives. After the class the teacher writes a note to each of us, mine says; "you have a way with words, people listen when you talk - make use of this gift, it's rare!"

During my last couple of years of high school and start of university I slowly became more and more active during class, I figured out that asking and answering questions actually makes you better at the subject and nobody else knows better than you anyway. It became natural and I forgot that I wasn't always that way.

This week we had an exercise where we had to choose a leader of the class - and I was chosen, which in it's self was a surprise. Me - as a leader? Are you kidding me? The exercise was leading the rest of the group in finding a rope outside on the ground and then make it to a perfect square with all the participants inside - while everybody, including the leader, are blindfolded. It was quite hard and we were outside for an hour and a half! I was a bit embarrassed when we came back inside, partly for taking so long, for shushing people and at one point even yelling obscenities to the rope, but then something really interesting happened... I got really good feedback. Sure there were things I could do better - plan ahead, delegate and keep a distance as a leader as not to loose the overview, things I know I suck at. Most surprisingly though was the fact that people thought I had an innate authority, I was assertive and people felt safe with me. I was a leader - an inexperienced leader for sure, but still, a leader. 

As a little girl I always imagined talking loudly, speaking out, daring to, but nobody ever thought I could so I believed them. I was the quiet girl with her head in a book. It wasn't until I became aware of the fact that words isn't something that is only given to me from a book but something I can create myself - writing or speaking, that I can put something out there, and some of it might not even be half bad, some things might even be worth listening to.

You better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone...

I have this feeling that something's off. I'm not quite sure what or why, but there's just something... I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. My head is too fuzzy and there's something I'm missing or forgetting. I have a lot on my plate right now and that's usually a good thing, but right now even when I finish one thing I don't feel like it's good enough, like I'm really done, so I keep going back and checking - and that's definitely not the way to get things done! 

Maybe I'm just having a weird day. I worked last night and despite of having been up between 3 and 5 in the morning I got to the gym after work this morning (I was very impressed with myself!). Then I was supposed to have a nice relaxed day - I made healthy pancakes (I'll get back to that - they deserve their own post) and started to read my book for this weeks course, but I just kept drifting off, feeling nauseous and unsettled. This evening has been a long walk back and forth in this teeny apartment feeling trapped and anxious. Maybe I'm going insane?

I guess I'll just go to bed and hope for a better day tomorrow. 

I'll leave you with the man I've spent my evening with - Bob

Some dudes marry dudes

Did you see this photo of Ryan Gosling? Like I wasn't crushing enough on him to start with... Now obviously I want a shirt like that too! I'm thinking this outfit and a night at a gay-club, that way it's all about the dancing and nothing about the dudes, except supporting them that is. 

The stuff can be found here. 

I love it

Let's see this pretty great sunday through my iPhone. 

 

The day started out sunny and with the promise of spring. I took my spring jacket on and headed out for a walk - and it wasn't even very cold! Though we do still have snow some places, but that's just part of a Scandinavian spring after all. 

 

When I got home I had all this energy so I started redoing the living room (as always!). I removed the carpet and moved the couch around a bit and finally took the TV down to the basement, it's been standing unused in a corner for a year now so it's actually time to get rid of it for good, but I'll get to that eventually. For dinner I had sushi and enjoyed eating it in my new favorite place on the couch! (I'm not even sure why I have a dinner table, I never ever use it for dinner...).

It's been a pretty efficient day, I've done things I've been meaning to do for months and months and it's all because of the sun and the up-beat tunes I've been blasting all day - one of them is Icona Pops "I love it" it totally makes me want to go out dancing, it's been way too long!

The L word

So how many hours are you allowed to spend learning to do the "cup-song" before you're officially a Loser (yes, capital L, preferably marked with a finger and a thumb on my forehead)? I've gotten the moves down pretty good and I know the lyrics, but my voice is so horrible I can't even stand to hear it, and also the combination of the two things (sing and beat) is so difficult that I keep accidentally sending my cup flying every which way. I seriously don't understand how I (on occasion) manage to walk and talk at the same time. Actually I don't manage that very well either - I think I've mentioned my ability to trip over nothing at all on a daily basis before, and right now I have a lovely scrape on my right knee as proof. 

Apart form adding sick cup-skills to my resumé I've been reading a pretty interesting book today (yes, I have actually done something a bit more intellectual than cupping this fine day, hmm... that sounds wrong... but anyways...) it's called "Thinking, fast and slow" and it's by Daniel Kahneman. So far it's really good. Apart from that one I have three other books on my nightstand that I'm reading right now - hopefully I'll get it together and finish one of them soon so I can start on yet another book that I bought in Sweden this week. I think I might need a pool, a sun-chair and some sun to finish all of them though. 

Source; 1

Taking a break

I'm really sucking at keeping this blog updated. There are just so many things on my mind that getting them down to words and sentences is just really hard right now. For example I've been staring at the screen for ages with thoughts just randomly dropping by and being pushed away by bigger and bedder ideas. I keep trying to focus on one thing at the time but everything gets jumbled up. 

Somehow I keep coming back to vacation, spring, light clothes and beautiful bags, yes it's superficial and irrelevant, but I suppose it's my minds way of taking a break. So here are the latest pause images in my head;

Everything is from stories.com

An extremely cruel unfunny joke

For as long as I can remember I’ve discussed aging and death with my father. We have very different views on it; something he thinks is explained by my young age and inexperience. He’s one of those who think that at some point we’ll find a cure for death (or aging) – and it can’t come fast enough! I’m one of those who can’t understand why we’d want to. Obviously I don’t “like” death, as you know I’m in the "cheating-death" kind of business. I do everything I can to prevent it, when that’s the reasonable thing to do, knowing that in the long run death always wins. In my way of thinking death is part of the deal, it’s natural and mostly not at all that dramatic. When you work with old and sick people death isn’t a far-fetched outcome, and as a professional you need to accept that.

The thing is I don’t work with old sick people. I work with young healthy people; kids and babies who aren’t even people yet – teeny humans who haven’t even gotten the chance to start. Here death as an outcome feels highly unacceptable, it feels unfair and like an extremely cruel unfunny joke – “here’s a new life, oops no, fooled you, I’ll keep this one!” Devastating and heartbreaking.

So having experienced that, can I still argue that death is part of the deal; that it’s ok and an outcome that you have to be prepared to handle? Of course I can, because that’s just the way it is, no matter how horrible and tragic it is when it happens, especially in a way that we normally would call prematurely and unexpectedly.

Ever since the first day I got called in to a complicated labour and felt the gut wrenching horror when a birth is accompanied by complete silence (and luckily quickly followed by a huge adrenalin kick on my part) I’ve felt an immense calmness when hearing a babies cry, a huge relief. It’s the babies way of saying I’m here and I’m fighting. That's the norm, that's the most likely outcome and it’s what everyone expects – but for me it’s a wonder, every single time.

People wonder how you can work in paediatrics having to accept that some children die. I always think that children die whether you work with it or not and not seeing it doesn’t make it go away. For me, the fact that some births are followed by silence actually makes the cries better, when one dies all the others that live feel like a huge gift. As long as that feeling can crawl it’s way through the “punch in the gut” feeling of loosing one I think I might be able to keep doing this job, that despite everything still is the most amazing, worthwhile job in the world. But damn, some days are hard.

Photos from here

In the mood

Can you feel your feet begging to move and your hands starting to tremble like the (in)famous jazz hands when you see these photos and hear the groovy melody of "In the mood" in your head? I know my hands and feet - not to mention hips and shoulders can't be still when I hear the music at least, so today everything I've done has had a kind of swing to it. 

 

We're in march people! It's official - spring will come this year too! I know I dance around most of the year, but it's like I truly can't help it when the sun starts showing it's face after three o'clock in the afternoon. Yesterday was all about the salsa and merengue (which is like once in a blue moon) that was the raging fashion in this apartment, but today I happened to come across a youtube clip of some gal's swing dancing in the 1940's and I thought to myself - imagine living thru WWII and still looking so ecstatic while swinging, it must be the happiest dance ever, and I should learn it! 

 

I know there're a lot of reasons why we live in the best of times - blogging and Instagram to mention two perhaps less important ones - genus classes at universities in Sweden and survival rates of premature babies at an all time low to mention two in my opinion hugely important ones. But I can't help sometimes daydreaming of living in an era of black and white, I know it sounds stupid, but I love the elegance, the smoldering looks and obviously the music and the movies. We should totally bring that era back, I mean without the war and the lousy conditions for everyone who isn't a white male, maybe just like a costume party... yeah, that would probably be enough for me.

For now I think I'll make myself a cup of tea and cuddle up with some dancing clips of Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, maybe I'll pick it up just by watching and re-watching for a couple of hours.

Sources here 

Doing big things

So I had a meeting with MSF last Friday. We talked about how my recruitment had gone and the different steps there are in the whole process of being sent to the field. I'm now in the preparation phase and boy am I feeling it. There are a million things to do and I'm doing lists like never before, but that might be because I keep losing them... I can sometimes get overwhelmed by everything I need to get in order and my thoughts can't help themselves, they race off to a month from now, five months from now and a year from now - how do I want things to look then? I keep struggling with wanting to sit on two chairs at once. I'm highly devoted to my career here at home and I don't want to miss any chances, but I know that I can't do both things at once and deep down I know that there will be a job for me when I get back. But it's difficult to settle and be comfortable with your own decision when everyone around you are busting their butts to pimp their resumés while I practically take a year off and say screw it, I'm doing this for me and I don't care about the consequences. Because I do care!

Anyways, after I received a to do list from MSF themselves (which suddenly made my own list stretch over two pages...) I feel like I have something tangible to do. It always helps on my chaotic thoughts to have some practical stuff to do that I can check off the list after I'm done. Somehow taking some passport photos of myself is much easier to accomplish and therefor more satisfying, than the stupid "get the apartment ready for quick packing so that you can scram on a moments notice" task I have on one of my lists.

As I said, I know everything will turn out fine - better even! I know this is what I want to do and I'm actually kind of proud of myself for taking this year off the conveyor belt, I think it'll be really good for me, but at the same time I'm giving myself permission to be scared and nervous, it is a big deal and you're supposed to feel nervous when you're doing big stuff.

More than a thousand words

So it's been a terribly grey and uneventful sunday. One of those days where I spend the whole day thinking that I should travel more, like leaving tomorrow. It always gets me thinking about last time I went somewhere and browsing the photos I've taken on my (not that many) trips. 

Doing that I came over this picture and it's just the best photo ever. It might not be the best quality or lighting or anything - it's a pretty random shot taken with my phone. The reason why it's special is the girl on the lower left corner. This is the friend whom I went to Paris with last fall. We were looking around the Notre Dame on a rainy afternoon and like so many tourists got separated inside the big cathedral filled with people. I'm not sure how long we walked around trying to find each other before we both figured it was easiest to just wait by the exit. When I found her there I just couldn't figure out how she'd passed me as she was walking behind me and I was actually looking for her. Afterwards when I was browsing the photos I'd taken inside I found this one, with her in it, and I was so surprised. It's taken just as she's passing me without seeing me and I'm taking a picture without realizing she's in it. 

I have a tendency to take a lot of pictures when traveling, most of them are useless. They aren't particularly good and don't really say that much about the trip. This one is different, it has a story and a great friend in it.

It's in his kiss

In honor of this international love fest of a day here are some pics of happy couples smooching - or at least I choose to see them as happy couples and not some random hookups, but you know, whatever floats your boat...

So whether you're into the whole flowers, chocolate and hearts thing or you feel your gag reflex being triggered just by me mentioning them, I'm pretty sure we can all agree that kissing is a pretty good thing. 

I haven't always been a big supporter of Valentines day as I do think it's a commercialized non-holliday where the main goal is to get people spending money on silly things. The idea of first giving a girl chocolates and then a thong to hop into (or whatever lingerie the salesclerk said would be super flattering and sexy) is just kind of cruel don't you think? The result is as always with gift-giving-hollidays a bit of a letdown if you ask me.

But anyways, I've come around and I now feel like if one day out of the year we're driven to consumerism for love, at least it's a better reason than most other days of the year.

I like thinking about all the love floating around the world this day, from the stupid roses that are delivered in the High Schools to the (uninventive) proposals that are occurring in restaurants across the globe, I hope you're feeling the love. And if someone forgot to buy the overpriced flowers today and all you got was a kiss, I would say you're still pretty lucky.

Pic.source; My Pinterest board!

Waiting for courage - or numbness

So I had to take a blood sample on a kid a couple of nights ago. It's obviously not unusual and as you might imagine it's not their favorite part of being in a hospital, so it's not unusual that they fuss when we do it. Last night was a bit different though. 

We have this cream that you put on their elbow crease that gives a bit of local anesthesia and usually this is a good thing. However this kid last night hated it, and I really get it. He got it on and then he had to wait for it to take, that is he had to lay there thinking about the fact that he was going to have blood drawn for almost an entire hour! He yelled and cried and said he was scared, all very natural and very common but still, heartbreaking. Later I talked to our nurses about why we put it on in the first place. Sure it takes the pain away from the actual blood drawing, but when you're big enough to think about what's going to happen it just gives you a whole lot of time to think about it and become increasingly scared. When the hour had passed and our lab.technicians came he had screamed for an hour and then, less than a minute later it was over. Kind of anticlimactic and unnecessary if you ask me.

I've often talked to my sister about the fact that the saying "act your age" is the dumbest saying in the world, because people act like kids no matter what age they are. I know this because the fact that I'm pretty close to thirty doesn't change the fact that I am just like the little guy. The nurses thought he was exaggerating and that he was acting childish (I mean he was over five, you're supposed to be able to "suck it up" at that age... or something...) and I kept thinking - this is the most normal reaction I've seen since I've started working here. If someone tells me I have to do something I'm really scared of doing I get a huge lump in my stomach and the longer I wait the bigger it gets, at one point or another I know that if I don't do it I'll become a screaming maniac that just can't handle it anymore. 

Still I keep waiting, thinking at some point courage will come to me, the anesthetic will start working and I won't feel any pain. 

Source: 1

Making a mess

It's always strange to be away from work for a couple of days. I actually only had two days off, but still, it feels long somehow. When I come back I always feel a bit out of the loop, I don't know who the patients are or if there's been any problems. Then there's the tricky part of being the union representative, I'm supposed to know what's going on and it's difficult when my schedule consists of weekends and nights.

Oh well, enough bitching for one evening.

Or actually... There's also the part of me being a starter and not a finisher. When I have a couple of days off I always do this dumb thing, (besides getting sick!) I start rearranging the apartment. I remember when I lived at home I was always the one moving my furniture around in my room, rearranging and trying out new ideas. I haven't done it so much here, the living room has only been rearranged once or twice in a year and my bedroom has looked the same since I moved in. This means I was good and ready to do something about the bedroom. Yesterday I decided I don't need a workspace in my bedroom anymore (which is true, I've never once worked there) so I moved the table out into the living room and started to sort thru my folders. Today I have a table randomly standing in the path to the kitchen and next to my kitchen table (my new workspace) is a huge pile of papers that are supposed to be thrown out and one that I haven't gotten to sort thru yet.

Luckily I have all of next week off to hopefully fix this mess. Except I wanted to use next week to sort thru all my clothes, I think I might be able to get rid of half my wardrobe and definitely half my shoes... Now the question is how long I can stand having my bed facing the door before I get totally creeped out and have to move it again... 

And this is how it looked up until yesterday, today it looks way different, but as it's still a mess in there I'll hold on the pics for now.

A lovely weekend

With that in mind I'm pulling on my jacket and heading out into the snow/rainstorm and straight towards the little people that I haven't seen in over a week, I can't wait! 

Making the most of a sick situation

This morning I had to call in sick to work, which was a problem - not only because it's always problematic when the person who's supposed to have the nightshift gets sick - but because talking on the phone isn't really something I'm capable of right now. Actually it's not really limited to the phone - talking at all isn't really an option right now. Obviously that becomes painfully clear when I try to sing along the lovely pick-me-up songs I've been playing all day. My poor neighbors, that normally have to tolerate my slightly off tune singing (I know some people out there are thinking - slightly!? I know who you are...) are now victims of me once in a while forgetting my ruined vocal cords and bursting out lyrics like a drowning cat. I do feel sorry for them, though maybe not as much as I feel sorry for myself.

Apart from singing I've spent the day building a village! Yesterday, Frida from Trendenser showed some super cute houses that she had made and today DesignoForm put up the instructions. So obviously me being the origami lover that I am had to try it out. Turns out it's quite easy! So now I'm thinking of making a whole bunch and make a village to go on top of my bookcase, but they might need to be a bit bigger than the ones I've made so far. Also, this gets me in the mood to redecorate and fix some things around the apartment. For example I'd like to move things around in the bedroom, but then I stood up to go check it out and the whole world took a spin and my throbbing head insisted I sit down and calm down and I remembered - oh yeah, I'm still sick. Crap!

Sweet dreams (are made of this)

 

 

Today I was unfortunately too dizzy to stand up for more than five minutes, much less go anywhere, so even though I've been yearning to do some cupcakes all day I've just been looking at the pictures - and the accessories! 

I think I might need to invest in some equipment soon. I mean you can't really bake without the cutest apron ever from Anthropology, or a pink whisk for that matter. The cupcakes I'm considering making are the ones on the right picture but with the frosting from the left picture. Banana cupcakes with white chocolate frosting, not to shabby I'd say... The pictures and recipes are from Linnéas Skafferi - a Swedish food blog I've been following for a while now. She makes some really great cupcakes (like the chocolate cupcakes with Bailey frosting) and the easiest most delusions ice-cream  (which is actually how I found the blog in the first place...). 

But as I said, I can't stand for very long and I can't go out and buy the cream cheese for the frosting so it'll have to wait. In the meantime I think I'll start checking out what's been coming in for spring in the stores - it feels like the perfect balance to the snowstorm outside...

Pic.sources: 1, 2, 3, 4 

Friday I'm in - bed?

I don't get this, I've had the flu already! It's actually less than a month ago that I was feverish and practically out cold for a week. It took almost three weeks to be completely over it - and now here I am - sick - again! Luckily I have today off work and a whole weekend without work so I don't need to call in sick, but I sure could think of a better way to spend my days off other than laying in bed covered up in blankets and freezing or five minutes later sweating a river from the fever breaking. It's infuriating!

The thing is, just because I'm sick and have a headache my mind doesn't stop working. So instead I spend the hours thinking about everything I should be doing - like preparing two presentations I have next month and two classes that I'm teaching in march. I should be looking at cheaper apartments, preparing for a couple of courses I'm taking these coming weeks and making a weekly meal plan (yes, I've stopped cooking again and need to take care of it!). I have some e-mails to answer and some calls to make. And in the midst of it all I come to think about a friend who has a miles long to-do list on her phone that she was considering organizing - and putting "organizing to-do list" on her to-do list! Goodness gracious! If I get myself in the shower and in some proper clothes for a work dinner tonight I'll be ecstatic.

Heartbeats

You know what's the worst? Waiting. I can't handle waiting. I feel my skin start to crawl and my hands start to itch, and my heart, oh my poor heart it's rhythm increases as the minutes tick by. Today I've been very focused on my phone. I don't remember any other day I've been so grateful for work, today the kids have been the only way to get my mind away from my phone, and from the waiting.

I was waiting for a call, or an e-mail - a sign, any sign that the meeting I had last week and the meeting I had yesterday had gone well. Then at last it came, an e-mail with the most wonderful words in the first sentence - I'm pleased to welcome you... Amazing! Luckily I didn't have patients at the time because I had to jump up and dance around just a little bit to celebrate. Today I won't be scared of what this means and what will come, today I'll just be happy and proud and bubbly.

So if that waiting is over, why am I bitching about it? Well, when I have an excess of energy I tend to do this one thing - bake. It makes me happy and I get to pound a dough senseless. But there's just one little tiny problem, the raise! Sweet Jesus I'm bad at waiting. And as I wait for the dough to double it's size I can't help but start feeling my skin crawl, my hands itch and my heart beating like a maniac. But maybe today the heartbeat isn't anxiousness, maybe it's just pure relief, joy and happiness? Maybe what I need isn't to sit down, breathe deeply and relax, maybe what I need is to jump and shout and dance around? 

And later, when the bubbles are out of my system, I'll enjoy the most delicious cinnamon rolls and a big glass of milk in the company of one of my favorite girls in the world!

Update: Three hours later, I'm done eating buns, drinking tea and talking and talking and talking. Some days are just really close to perfect - and today was really really close. 

The butterflies

I must say, it's been a couple of interesting days. Sunday night at the hospital was interesting. I love the width we work with at a pediatric ward. On any random day I can be presented with everything from chronic diseases to psychiatric patients to highly stressful life and death situations, and this Sunday I was. It's exciting, invigorating and exhausting. I've said it before and I'll probably say it again; I truly love my job, but yesterday morning I kept forgetting where I'd put my clothes and talking took a great deal of effort, it's probably one of the most stressful mornings I've had in quite a while. 

Luckily the rest of the day was a bit more mellow. I spent the day with thousands of butterflies in my stomach but I found out that some laughs and a couple of glasses of red wine could drown them so it turned out pretty good. Today I had an important meeting and spent all morning trying to calm my nerves without wine and laughs - I must say, I was not very successful. Hopefully the meeting went ok anyway and I'll find out more in a couple of days.

So after two butterfly filled days I've gone over to something completely butterfly-free - I'm now reading like a maniac to be ready for thursdays presentation. Pages and pages of care and complications of preterm babies - my head is spinning with abbreviations like ELBW, VLBW, RDS, BPD, NEC and so on. Interesting, of course, but it's a lot to take in on a three hour train ride. To boost my energy I bought some more tulips (I'm the only idiot that would think of bringing them all the way from Copenhagen), yes, I am now addicted! 

You make me wanna shout

This is my view right now. I'm trying to pretend that we are close to spring and not in fact in the deepest middle of winter. The light feels like spring, but the wind and the snow covered ground are not to be mistaken, they're definitely winter all the way. 

Though to be honest with you I'm not all that interested in time moving faster, actually a pause button would be quite lovely right about now. There are so many things that need to get settled this month that I'm a bit overwhelmed. I'm trying not to think to much about it but it's hard when people around you keep asking questions about making plans for a month or two from now. Right now all I can think about it getting through this week in one piece.

I have some preparing to do for an important meeting on tuesday and then I haven't even started on a presentation for thursday. Apart form that I need to sign myself op for some important courses (and yes, for that I do need to think into march and april which I'm trying not to do!) and talk to our union about my schedule which looks like hell... Crap, this is why I don't update here, I get a lump in my stomach just thinking all these things through.

Funnilly enough the title to this post started out referring to something completely different, but it's actually very fitting for my mood today. I should dance it out, that's where I can shout, and throw my head back and shout...

I think Christina knows what I'm talking about... ;-)

If we ever meet again

Yes, a silly old Timbaland song has inspired this post, not only because it’s a catchy and energetic song, but also because it says something I’m very used to saying which I find kind of funny, I thought I was the only one...

Years back (a decade or so…) I met a guy I really liked, he was sweet and smart and cute – everything I was looking for in a guy at the time. We met on a trip and the whole time I kept thinking I’ll tell him tomorrow, I’ll tell him when we’re alone, after dinner, after breakfast and so on. We took several walks alone, sat and talked for hours just the two of us and still it never felt like the right time. Finally the day came when we were leaving and I felt this panicked feeling of having missed my chance. I ran down from my room where I had been packing and over to his room with the excuse of returning something I had borrowed, but with the full intention of telling him how I felt. Once there I got tongue-tied and said something in the likes of “are you sure you’re not gay?” I still now, a decade later blush with embarrassment. Is that supposed to say to him that I like him? I could have bitten off my tongue the second I’d said it. In my screwed up head I meant; “you’re too good to be true”, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t what came across. I couldn’t get myself to explain and I just left the room devastated. I spent the train ride home replaying the whole trip in my head, finding moments and places where I could have said what I wanted to say, that wasn’t minutes before we were leaving, and of course also finding hundreds of different things I could have said that would have given a more accurate description of what I felt than “are you sure you’re not gay?” The only consolation I had was that if we ever met again I would be different; I would be confident and honest, I would never let the same thing happen again.

I never saw him again. And to be honest I haven’t met many guys like him in the last ten years, but would I, had I met one, done it differently? I’m not sure… Actually I’m sure I wouldn’t have. Still it’s a great consolation to think about, that next time – next time will be completely different… Hope is the last thing that leaves us, right?

“I’ll never be the same

If we ever meet again

I'll have so much more to say

If we ever meet again

I wont let you go away

If we ever meet again”