We are not a family who frequent the hospital or doctors, we absolutely don’t make decisions from fear and we were not prepared for any form of bad news at this seemingly generic appointment. So to be told you must go to emergency felt laughable initially.

Hampus went to see the Wizard, he identified a lot of fluid on the brain but was reluctant to confirm a tumor. He believed it stemmed from his neck and within an hour Hampus’ symptoms dissipated. He felt surely that’s a good sign.

His double vision disappeared after feeling supported and nourished and guided with positive affirmation. Hampus came home and shared his thoughts about how he wanted to focus on healing himself naturally.

I sent the report to a few friends and as it suggested there was bleeding on the brain they also suggested we should go to the hospital.

We went. We waited for 4 hours.

Once we met the registrar it was clear they were just as perplexed as us, by how Hampus presented, after reading the report. Double vision in one eye but otherwise physically very well. They needed us to wait for the neurological team to get a definitive answer.

The hospital was the most lifeless place I’d been inside of in my adult life. As a home birther I’ve gratefully never had to set foot mid labour inside of one. Gosh that would be awful for me. The workers were all nice and helpful and seemingly lived off endorphins and the commitment to being helpful. The other patients reaching for help and understanding, were looking closer and closer to deaths door the longer we all sat there in the halogen lit cattle cart. Aqua 6months old stared and suckled at the flashing TV and lack lustre mood. I am grateful that we had already planned a trip to my mums for the weekend. So she was already available and able to take the two bigger kids.

Hamp was then transitioned onto a bed number 8 or 9 in the priority line. The nurses started running basic tests. Temperature, blood pressure, then the registrar took some bloods. I asked what are they for? He answered they are just basic pre-theatre bloods.

He now had my attention.

Hang on, theatre? You’re considering operating? Today? You’re thinking you’re going to cut open Hampus’ brain tonight? What if we don’t want to? We’re going to want at least a second, maybe third opinion. I’m going to need to exhaust all avenues before you cut open and take a tennis ball chunk of his brain.

This was not an option. Not today.

Hampus for the first time in his life felt an instinctive nudge like no other. He looked at the registrar and almost laughed and he turned to me and shared in Swedish, “I think I’m going to leave now.” We called a friend and they reminded us there will be fear mongering if we choose to leave, but no one can stop you from walking out.

Finally what we experienced through Covid had toughened us, strengthened us rather, and Hampus was confident. We told the nurse we were going, the fear mongering came ~ “you walk out of here now you could likely die in your sleep tonight”; “I can’t keep you here but you leaving is a death wish” This made Hampus actually laugh out loud. A crazed moment I’m sure.

Now, I do want to say, I do understand the gravity of their concern, the radiographer literally cried sharing the report with Hampus. So we knew that the report sounded bad. I mean I knew it read bad. What we also knew was that whilst what they were saying may have had some truth the likelihood of a well functioning human dropping dead quickly with no warning signs was low and somehow I intuitively sensed it didn’t seem like the way he would go.

These symptoms had been as they were for over 5 months at this point. Hamp had an innate belief that he was ok. So we left.

His plan - to uncover all of the avenues we might need to take without the white light, beeping and sickness morbidity.

Walking out of the hospital that day felt like we were jigging school. Naughty little kids with the high possibility of getting in trouble by an “authority”. I can’t believe how much I have been drenched in authority brainwashing and the medical systems belief of ~ one size fits all even after over 15 years immersed in the alternate healing realm. The pressure to believe what they have decided to be true for you is rife. It all, based on their specific data and their own anecdote combined. “The truth” as they see it.

This was the beginning of the adventure.

Truly walking the path unknown. The end. and the beginning, of so many aspects of my life.

My concern my babies…