Sommerens milde stråler strømmede ind gennem de store vinduer i Rigs Hospitalet, og kastede et varmt lys over de sterile, hvide gange.

The gentle rays of summer streamed through the large windows of the Royal Hospital, casting a warm glow over the sterile, white corridors.

Freja sad på en hård plastikstol i venteværelset.

Freja sat on a hard plastic chair in the waiting room.

Hun havde været der i flere timer, og hun følte hvordan uroen voksede.

She had been there for several hours, and she felt her anxiety growing.

Hendes blik vandrede konstant over det værelse, der summede af liv.

Her gaze constantly wandered over the room, which buzzed with life.

Mennesker hastede frem og tilbage, men Freja blev siddende, stille og ventende.

People hurried back and forth, but Freja remained seated, silent and waiting.

Freja trak sin skitsebog frem.

Freja pulled out her sketchbook.

Tegneriet hjalp, tankerne blev lidt roligere, men stadig ville hjertet ikke falde til ro.

Drawing helped; her thoughts became a little calmer, but her heart still refused to settle down.

Hun havde bemærket de første symptomer for nogle måneder siden.

She had noticed the first symptoms a few months ago.

Svaghed, uforklarlig træthed.

Weakness, unexplained fatigue.

Tegnestudierne, som hun elskede, blev langsomt en kamp.

The art studies she loved were slowly becoming a struggle.

Hun havde behov for svar.

She needed answers.

Nu var hun her, på hospitalet, og ventede på resultaterne af sine prøver.

Now she was here, at the hospital, waiting for the results of her tests.

Mikkel kom, som han havde lovet.

Mikkel arrived, as he had promised.

Han satte sig ved siden af hende, hans tilstedeværelse gav støtte.

He sat next to her, his presence offering support.

"Hvordan har du det?"

"How are you feeling?"

spurgte han med en rolig stemme.

he asked in a calm voice.

Freja forsøgte et smil.

Freja attempted a smile.

"Lidt nervøs," indrømmede hun, hendes stemme næsten en hvisken.

"A little nervous," she admitted, her voice almost a whisper.

Freja havde kendt Mikkel i mange år.

Freja had known Mikkel for many years.

Han var en af de få personer, hun følte sig tryg ved at åbne sig for.

He was one of the few people she felt comfortable opening up to.

"Jeg frygter, hvad de vil sige," sagde hun.

"I fear what they will say," she said.

"Hvis det er noget kronisk... hvordan skal jeg klare det?"

"If it's something chronic... how will I manage?"

Mikkel lyttede opmærksomt.

Mikkel listened attentively.

"Uanset hvad, så er jeg her," sagde han.

"No matter what, I'm here," he said.

"Du behøver ikke klare det alene."

"You don't have to face it alone."

Tiden sneglede sig afsted.

Time crawled by slowly.

Hver gang en telefon ringede i venteværelset, sprang Freja let.

Each time a phone rang in the waiting room, Freja jumped slightly.

Endelig, efter dengang, hvor hun næsten havde opgivet håbet, ringede det.

Finally, when she had almost given up hope, it rang.

Hendes navn lød fra receptionen.

Her name was called from the reception.

Hun greb instinktivt Mikkels hånd, som gav et opmuntrende klem.

She instinctively grabbed Mikkel's hand, which gave an encouraging squeeze.

"Doktoren er klar til at tale med dig,” sagde receptionisten.

"The doctor is ready to see you," said the receptionist.

Freja gik ind på kontoret, Mikkel ved hendes side.

Freja walked into the office, Mikkel by her side.

Lægen var venlig, hans øjne var medfølende.

The doctor was kind, his eyes filled with compassion.

Han forklarede forsigtigt diagnosen.

He gently explained the diagnosis.

Det var ikke den frygtede besked, men det var stadig en udfordring, hun skulle leve med.

It wasn't the dreaded news, but it was still a challenge she would have to live with.

Men der var også lindring.

Yet, there was also relief.

Nu vidste hun.

Now she knew.

Der var en plan, noget konkret at forholdes til.

There was a plan, something concrete to hold onto.

Freja åndede lettet op.

Freja breathed a sigh of relief.

Hun kiggede på Mikkel, som svarede med et opmuntrende nik.

She looked at Mikkel, who responded with an encouraging nod.

"Vi klarer det her," sagde han.

"We can handle this," he said.

Og for første gang i ugevis, følte Freja håb.

And for the first time in weeks, Freja felt hope.

Da de forlod hospitalet, tog solen imod dem med en varm omfavnelse.

As they left the hospital, the sun greeted them with a warm embrace.

Freja kiggede op mod den blå, sommerhimmel.

Freja looked up at the blue summer sky.

Hun følte sig stærkere end før.

She felt stronger than before.

Nu kunne hun begynde at forstå, acceptere, og vigtigst af alt, tage de første skridt mod at omfavne livet med deres nye virkelighed – sammen med Mikkel.

Now she could begin to understand, to accept, and most importantly, to take the first steps toward embracing life with their new reality—together with Mikkel.