I love my grandmother ((I.e. my mother's mother; my father's mother is sadly passed away.)). She provides inspiration and somewhat acts as a beacon, casting light on a lot of characteristics I wish to have when I turn old. My mother raised me to raise hell against what's wrong, and my grandmother has, by being her true self, indirectly made sure that I would be that way. She's also extremely positive and I get the feeling she's going to stay alive until she's 200 years old.

Grandma's staying at Huddinge Sjukhus, which is a big hospital on the south side of Stockholm. She's staying in a geriatric ward called Barngatan, which translates as Kids' Street.

Oh, the staff and everybody are so nice to me. I'm so happy to have lived such a good life for so long, and Marit and Mick ((My parents' names; by the way, my dad's name is Milivoje, but as grandma can't pronounce it, she made up Mick.)) are so sweet to me. I'm staying here with two ladies who are leaving tomorrow, and I hope the people who are to replace them will be just as nice as they are.

In the video below grandma's talking about how much I look like my grandfather (which - according to everybody who's ever seen a picture of the man - is questionable to say the least), about her physical pains, how the doctors always have to dig hard to find a proper vein in her body, how happy she gets when finding out that we've brought her some gossip mags (that she wanted to pay us for bringing!), why she doesn't feel the need to have a telephone in her hospital room, how the staff is checking her health and how much she despises the quality of the food that the government wants to deliver to her at home.

She's great.