A couple of weeks ago I travelled to Stockholm to see an orthopedist who had previously treated me.
I went there with a diagnosis of a painful slipped disc, hernia, in the neck.
When I went back to Gothenburg the following day I did it with a serious diagnosis of cancer.
I do not have any particular memories of the journey back to Gothenburg. Only the stubborn gratitude that my wife, Eva, was with me.
A few days later, at the lung center at Sahlgrenska University Hospital, I had it in black and white: it was serious. I had one tumour in the back of my neck and one in my left lung. The cancer could also have spread to other parts of my body.
I am now undergoing the last examinations before it will be decided upon which treatments I will receive.
My anxiety is very profound, although by and large, I can keep it under control.
At a very early stage I decided to try to write about this.
I have decided to write just as it is.
But I will do it from the perspective of life, not death.
I will do it now and then in the Swedish newspaper Göteborgs-Posten.
I begin now.
I have begun now.