One image from May 17, 2026, Norway’s National Day, sticks in your memory. Crown Princess Mette-Marit is greeting lines of schoolchildren as they march past with flags while standing outside Skaugum, her family’s home close to Oslo. She has a thin nasal cannula running across her face that is connected to a small portable oxygen unit, and she is wearing a coat rather than the traditional bunad because her doctors told her that this year’s regional costume was too much. A chair has been subtly positioned off to one side. She sits down a few times during the ceremony. She eventually has to turn away due to a coughing fit. Crown Prince Haakon manages the situation with the quiet alertness of someone who has been doing this for years, keeping a close eye on her face for signs of weariness.
In 2018, Mette-Marit received a diagnosis of chronic pulmonary fibrosis. The Norwegian Royal Household made the announcement publicly at the time, characterizing the illness as “limiting”—a cautious term for a condition that progressively causes thick, rigid scarring to replace healthy lung tissue, making breathing increasingly difficult. She was successful for the first few years. She reduced her royal responsibilities and skipped some events, but she continued to show up at important occasions looking calm and, to the majority of onlookers, mostly herself. It feels like borrowed time now. Tests conducted at Oslo University Hospital by the end of 2025 revealed what her medical team described as “a clear worsening.” NRK was informed by the princess that the illness had progressed “faster than I’d hoped.” Her doctors started getting ready for a possible evaluation for a lung transplant; they didn’t put her on the waiting list yet, but they did start the process.
The fact that pulmonary fibrosis is invisible in its early stages is what makes it so cruel. A patient may appear completely normal while sitting motionless. The lungs only show how little they have left to offer during exertion, such as climbing stairs, walking quickly, or standing for extended periods of time. In an interview, Haakon discussed this tension, stating that although his wife appeared “perfectly fine” in a chair, he had observed that she was having more difficulty breathing. They could no longer go skiing or hiking together, two activities they used to do frequently. That detail has a certain sharpness. The Norwegian royal family has always presented an image of an egalitarian, outdoor lifestyle that includes walking through forests, cycling, and camping. One of the couple’s most obvious ties has been severed by the illness.
The situation had clearly gotten worse by June 2026. Their 22-year-old daughter, Princess Ingrid Alexandra, flew home to be with her mother after pausing her studies at the University of Sydney. In order to return to Oslo, Haakon canceled a visit to the port city of Hachinohe during an official trip to Japan. On June 4, Mette-Marit was seen carrying her oxygen equipment in a backpack as she arrived at Rikshospitalet with Haakon and Ingrid Alexandra. The purpose of the visit was not revealed by the Royal Household. At an art exhibition in Trondheim, Queen Sonja, 88, who was recently admitted to the hospital due to heart failure, told reporters: “Of course it’s not positive.” All we can do is hope that everything works out. When questioned separately, King Harald provided less information, saying, “I know very little about that.”
The peculiar layering of crises surrounding Mette-Marit at the moment is difficult to ignore. In a trial that has dominated Norwegian tabloids for months, her oldest son, Marius Borg Høiby, is awaiting a verdict on forty criminal charges, including four counts of rape. Days before the Crown Princess’s health publicly deteriorated, Queen Sonja herself was admitted to the hospital. It is difficult to misinterpret the Church of Norway’s call for special prayers for Mette-Marit during Sunday services. And amid all of this, the question of transplantation remains unresolved. In late May, Haakon told reporters that the timing was “up to the doctors,” adding in a low voice, “She has gotten a lot worse lately, unfortunately.” The palace has emphasized that Mette-Marit will not be given special treatment, and Norway’s transplant waiting list usually consists of 20 to 40 patients. Lungs are distributed based on donor compatibility and medical urgency. At least in this instance, the Crown Princess waits just like everyone else.
