Archive Notes: This is an English translation and rewritten version of a blog post originally published in Japanese on October 4, 2019. [Japanese version]
Fortunately, there were no emergency calls from the hospital today.
I decided to take a break from pushing myself to visit the hospital and instead spent the day sorting out some banking errands.
Just the thought of having to talk to my father—someone I’ve barely interacted with my entire life—makes my heart rate spike.
I end up taking everything so heavily.
It always starts with a feeling of, “I have no idea what’s going on.”
It’s like having to start by figuring out where the registered seal for official documents is kept. Every single time.
I have no way to explain this situation to others, nor the right words for it, but honestly… it’s exhausting.
It’s just so hard.
I have no one but myself to rely on.
I’m doing my best to handle the paperwork step by step and solve our immediate problems. But just the task of explaining these things to my father makes me feel like a hole is burning through my stomach.
Little by little, the energy has drained from my own words.
My head is completely overloaded, and my stomach feels as heavy as if I had swallowed lead.
Even the slightest stimulation sends my mind into chaos.
The daily routines necessary to keep living just keep repeating, day after day.
Amidst all that, I feel like I’m the only one who can’t keep a sense of normalcy.
It seemed my mother was registered with “Palum no Kai” (a funeral service provided by the local co-op), so I called to check the details.
The person on the phone couldn’t give me a clear answer, and in the end, I hung up without knowing what her registration actually covered.
For now, it seems that if the worst happens, I just need to call the toll-free number on the card and they’ll handle it.
That was the only thing I managed to confirm with them.
In the evening, the co-op delivery arrived.
It usually comes around 8:20 PM, so I had set an alert on my Fitbit for 8:00 PM just in case.
I was sitting alone on the sofa, thinking, “I need to hang out the laundry…” but my body wouldn’t move. I was completely spaced out until the alarm buzzed on my wrist.
Huh?
What’s that?
What day is it?
It took me that long to finally realize it was delivery time. That’s the state I’m in right now.
The assessment date to change my mother’s nursing care level was originally set for November 14th—way too far in the future. But perhaps because her hospital changed to the Sumiyoshi ward and the visit location changed, I suddenly got a call moving it up to Monday at 10:30 AM.
That’s another task added to my plate.
Last night, my daughters stayed over.
We sleep on separate floors—them on the 3rd floor, me on the 1st—so I almost forget they are even here sometimes.
Even so, I woke up multiple times in the middle of the night to the sound of incredibly loud thunder.
Checking my Fitbit sleep tracker, it showed I was awake from 12:13 AM to 12:23 AM, so that must have been when the thunder was at its absolute worst.
In my current mental state, that thunder was genuinely terrifying.
I already had a fast heart rate and occasionally felt short of breath, but lately, it’s gotten significantly worse. Even when I’m just sitting still, my heart aches with a dull pain.
I’m so tired.
