Archive Notes: This is an English translation and rewritten version of a blog post originally published in Japanese on September 24, 2019. [Japanese version]
Intracerebral hemorrhage is truly terrifying.
The long weekend finally ended after my mother was rushed to the emergency room on Saturday, and normal hospital operations resumed today.
Since admission procedures became available, I went to submit the official pledge form.
It was my first time entering through the main entrance, so I got a bit lost again (haha).
When I pulled a number ticket, six people were ahead of me. I was kept waiting in the lobby for quite a while, but my actual procedure took barely 10 seconds.
I cannot help but wonder what everyone else was spending so much time on.
And why are there always so many sick people at the hospital…?
I went together with my daughter in her car, but parking at the hospital costs at least 300 yen per visit, even with the family discount rate.
So we parked at the Life supermarket across the street and walked over instead.
If you spend 500 yen or more there, parking is free for up to 90 minutes.
The lot was nearly empty, and I realized it is far better to park there, pick up a few groceries, and then head home.
That said, prices at Life are surprisingly high, so I only buy the absolute essentials.
When you are used to shopping in super-discount areas on a daily basis, buying groceries in other neighborhoods feels almost painful.
My mother’s condition remains unchanged.
She is connected to a ventilator and lies completely still.
To be honest, seeing her like this is painful beyond words.
I have no idea how long this situation will last, and there is no clear path forward.
At the same time, I am constantly worried about my 89-year-old father every single day.
Fortunately, his mind is sharp, so compared to my mother, he can manage to get by on his own for now.
However, since he relied heavily on my mother for almost everything in daily life, there were many things he could not answer when I asked him. I spent the day making phone calls one by one to cancel services that needed canceling and decline things that needed declining.
A lot has happened up until today, but things are finally starting to settle down a bit.
Having my daughter and granddaughter Riona stay at my house after morning daycare drop-off gives me huge emotional support.
An 11-month-old baby is just pure sweetness and joy.
Until now, I used to drop Yuina off at my daughter’s house and stay there for dinner before heading home. But if I do that, I cannot prepare meals for my father.
So we switched to a new pattern: I prepare meals for everyone—including my father—at my place, deliver his portion around 4:30 PM, and my daughter takes her husband’s portion home with her.
I think I will stick to this routine on weekdays for the time being.
All I can do right now is adapt to these constant changes as best I can.
I do not have much of an appetite myself.
However, if I do not eat, I will grow frail, so I am forcing myself to swallow food.
On Sunday, when I could barely get anything down all day, my weight dropped sharply the next morning.
When you lose weight by not eating, you lose mostly muscle mass, which creates serious problems down the line.
Even so, maintaining both physical stamina and emotional resilience in a situation like this is tremendously difficult.
