A week ago I was eating dinner at a restaurant with a good (no great) friend.
Suddenly sirens near us, a young man was hit by a car just outside the restaurant.
I saw his feet and a pool of blood.
He didn’t make it.
It was weird passing the place an hour later
- the firemen had rinsed the street and happy party people passed without knowing a thing.
He hasn’t left my thought all week.
Monday night I had cramps in my stomach, I was sleeping badly.
Decided to go to work – shooting another episode of my TV- series Fixa Rummet. My crew is from another part of Sweden and the kids have been waiting for their room.
Couldn’t let them down.
After lunch I said – I do one more scene, then I need to go home.
I went to the hospital instead. Spent seven hours in the emergency room.
Pretty far from Grey’s Anatomy.
A drunk man had hit his head and was screaming that he wanted to take a dump, an older man was bleeding from his head but couldn’t get up so there was blood all over the wall behind him, alarms getting off and pretty hard environment over all.
I did some test. Was told- this can take anything from 10 minutes until 3 hours. After a while I went to ask if I could drink something. The nurse said my test where back, she looked at them but didn’t tell me anything. She just had that look. The look that something was wrong.
-”Sit down, DON’T drink, the doctor will talk to you soon”.
I was pretty sure it was the appendix which isn’t that bad but suddenly I got so afraid.
What if they had found something else? What if her look was the sign of bad news.
I started to cry.
But I was lucky. It was the appendix and an hour later I lay had the surgery.
The anesthetic crew was like a SWAT team. Truly hardcore women. I felt safe.
My nail polish matched their caps.
Then the next two hours was like 3 minutes in my head – it was over.
I could call my husband – in a delirious state – still knocked out on drugs.
Apparently taking out an appendix is the closest thing a gal, with small children at home, gets to party and having some me-time.
I was fine.
I shared room with Harriet 95 years old. She came to me a bit lost. Looked at my leopard scarf and my studded converse. Told me she had just the same- like asking me why I had taken hers….
She was so sweet.
On the other side of this screen lay a woman from, I think Poland.
It was strange not saying hello but laying so close. Sharing lives for a couple of days, but still not wanting to interfere.
Her family- like a crew of 6, was with her all the time. They where loud and it was wonderful in a way.
Most of the Swedes where there alone, but the ones with foreign background all had their entourage.
I found this very interesting.
Loved the pants.
Now I am back home.
Tired but ok. I will be ok.
No one ever needs an appendix anyway…