WILLPOWER MELTDOWN SOMETIMES

He has malignant brain tumor. It is gradually growing in spite of radio chemotherapy. Right hemiplegia due to the tumor made him bedridden, but he could eat and talk with his wife until a week ago.

When they were young, he annoyed her often for reasons she never tells. She has taken care of him since he presented with hemiparesis.

I told her that he would remain unconscious and asked her if resuscitative measures should be attempted when he suffered a cardiopulmonary arrest. She said “I really love him” and signed the DNAR code.

I was surprised because I had never said such a thing to someone I loved. I wondered if I had ever really loved anyone.

Even when I’m troubled, I have no one to talk to, so I try to put my thoughts into words. As in the poem “The Road Not Taken,” two roads diverge in front of me. One road is to work at another hospital, which means I must devote all my time to studying from now on. The other road to stay at this hospital as I am now, which means I don’t require such sacrifice, but have to lose my current expertise and give up on striving. I must choose one. I swear I will choose one and will never come back here again.

To do list

• Routine
• Medicine
• English
• Law

I want to resign from this hospital. You might say that I am paid well and have a good position. But, honestly, it’s too painful. In other words, staying any longer would make me sick. I thought I was strong, but I have to listen to my heart. I must acknowledge my weakness. It’s a message from my heart. I can hear it now. I need a change of pace; I can’t go on like this. Besides, the younger staff are doing well. Maybe my role here is finished.

I told my partner that I find my current job hard and that I want to change jobs. Her response was simply, “No way.” Then, she acted as if she hadn’t heard me and went back to petting the dog. I never empathized with others’ suffering, so my suffering isn’t understood. It’s karma.

Still, my son, who knows nothing, asked me to take care of myself. He is growing up. I don’t want to get in his way. Even if I did get in his way, he would probably push past it and continue to grow. So, what about me? Should I endure this suffering until I reach my limit, knowing that my mind and body can’t take any more? No, I have my own path. No matter how old I get, I should be able to continue walking it.

A man in his 70s was transported by ambulance with mild impaired consciousness and vomiting due to an acute subdural hematoma. Approximately one month prior, he had suffered a cerebral infarction, leaving him with severe left-sided paralysis, for which he had been hospitalized at Hospital A for rehabilitation. He had fallen and sustained a head contusion both two days and one day before transport. After vomiting late at night, a head CT scan had revealed the acute subdural hematoma, leading to his transport to this hospital. It appears he was refused admission at Hospital B, the nearest facility with a neurosurgery department. This was despite the fact that Hospital B had treated his cerebral infarction. Hospital B apparently has only a few neurosurgeons and cannot handle emergencies.

Time is finite. When planning things, time is a crucial factor to consider. That is, considering deadlines. I have a serious flaw: I’m too lenient with deadlines. I should work on fixing that. It’s not that I’m being lazy. I’m doing what needs to be done now. It’s just that the “now” expands incredibly long for me. I’m addressing things immediately. It’s just that “immediately” expands incredibly long for me. Everyone is busy. They can’t spend time for free for others.

In the sweltering heat that could melt a cell phone, middle schoolers are playing a rugby match. I think it’s crazy, but they’re serious. I’m participating as the team doctor. They’re by no means a strong team, but I like their earnest attitude. A skinny little girl caught the pass and started running. “Run!” I shouted in my mind.

I read Haruki Murakami’s Dance Dance Dance. Someone had praised it in a blog as a novel that gave him strength while aiming to pass the bar exam. I wanted that strength too. But it had no such effect on me. The male protagonist believes that as you get older, you naturally come to recognize “who you can sleep with and who you can’t.” I’ve gotten older, but I have never recognized. I don’t even know if it’s fortunate or unfortunate.

I want to make a feasible plan. Until now, I thought that even if the plan was unreasonable, I could make it by working weekends and pulling all-nighters. But in reality, such plans don’t come to fruition, and I get sick. I want to create a sustainable plan.

To clean my room, I need to throw away trash. To keep my heart clean, I need to discard unnecessary memories. It’s true that something I threw away might be needed someday. But that doesn’t mean I should keep everything. I decided to keep throwing things away. I think that’s what I need right now.

I performed full endoscopic spinal surgery for lumbar hernia. She is not doing well postoperatively. Yesterday, I showed the images to her and her family and explained the course of events. “I performed the surgery as planned. The postoperative MRI shows the herniation in the targeted area was manipulated as planed. However, it appears the nerve root was compressed when the surgical field was opened. It may be the reason for current pain and paralysis of your lower leg. Other factors like discography, surgical positioning, and endoscopic water pressure may also be involved. While there has been improvement compared to immediately after surgery, we will continue rehabilitation.” Did they understand? I know “as planed” is nothing for them. She said, “I don’t regret having the surgery. I just might have underestimated it. It turned out to be a longer road than expected.”

I taught my son his studies. I explained things thoroughly, repeating until they understood, never pushing them too hard, teaching them patiently. What kind of times will lie ahead before them? I cannot predict. What I taught him today may not help him in the future, but a few hours spent with him was precious to me.I never cease to hope for a bright future for them. I don’t ask for much for myself. I want to dedicate the rest of my life to their future. I clean the house everyday since I wish a son who left home will come home someday.