Recently, a certain type of photograph from Oslo has been making the rounds. The Crown Princess is grinning, appropriately attired, and surrounded by family when you notice the thin oxygen support tube next to her face, which she now wears to public gatherings. It’s a minor detail. However, once you become aware of something, it is difficult to ignore it.
In 2018, Mette-Marit, 52, received a diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis, a condition that gradually stiffens and scars the lungs until breathing becomes laborious. She was able to do it for years. She continued to go skiing and hiking with Haakon, continued to be present, and kept the illness largely off the front pages. When autumn arrived, a series of examinations at Rikshospitalet revealed a different picture. The palace publicly declared in December that a lung transplant would probably be required.
What impressed me about Dr. Are Martin Holm’s remarks was how honestly he depicted this thing’s cruelty. According to him, pulmonary fibrosis is a serious illness that is frequently invisible because it depends on the patient’s actual level of illness. She might breathe normally when at rest. The lungs just can’t keep up when you push her—a long walk, a slope, or a flight of stairs. I believe that what makes her case so difficult for the general public to understand is the difference between appearing fine and actually being fine. Even Haakon acknowledged that although she may appear healthy, she isn’t.
She’s handled it in a way that seems almost obstinate. The palace noted she has expressed a strong interest in continuing her duties, even as her schedule gets trimmed and reshaped around rest and rehabilitation. It is evident in the events she continues to attend, such as a reception for Paralympic athletes and a library centenary in Fredrikstad. She appears, complete with oxygen.
Additionally, I keep returning to a particular detail that speaks volumes about Norway. On the transplant list, she won’t be given priority. There are typically only twenty to forty patients waiting at any given time, and lungs are distributed based on donor match and medical urgency rather than rank. She is replaced by a future queen. Some royals in other places might have subtly set things up differently. Typically, Norway didn’t.
On all fronts, she hasn’t had an easy time. Her name reappeared in the Epstein files that were made public earlier this year, and her oldest son, Marius Borg Høiby, is currently on trial in Oslo. This is the kind of background noise that no one wants when their body is failing. Regardless of your opinion of the monarchy itself, it’s difficult not to feel sorry for her when you see everything fall on one person at once.
New trials and medications targeted at reducing scarring are examples of how medicine is improving, but advancements don’t always happen on schedule. As of right now, Rikshospitalet is still making preparations, the evaluation is proceeding, and the waiting list date is still up in the air. Reading the cautious statements from the palace gives the impression that everyone is preparing without explicitly stating it.
The ordinariness beneath the title is what remains. A married woman in her early fifties with three children who used to enjoy being outside but now requires assistance to get through a typical day. The audience is altered by the crown. The diagnosis remains unchanged.