2023.

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Google Bard translated this article from Japanese to English.

Prologue

My mother passed away on November 26, 2023.

This article is the prologue to a new theme, "Caregiving, Memorial Services, and Music Activities." In this article, I will talk about my caregiving life until my mother passed away, the memorial services and my life alone after she passed away, and my music activities as a music artist.

From a family of three to a family of two: A new chapter

I decided to live with my parents when I found out that they were both diagnosed with cancer almost at the same time.

My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer first, and then my father was diagnosed with colorectal cancer.

My father used to say, even if he were to fall ill, 'I wouldn't want to be kept alive with tubes attached to my body,' and 'I wouldn't want to die in a hospital; I want to pass away on my own bed at home.

So, I built a house for my parents, who were living in a rental house at the time, and invited them to live with me. My parents and I started a new life together.

The decision to live with my parents was not based on any logical reason, such as my ability to take care of them.

It was a gut instinct that came to me in an instant.

I said to myself, "Okay! Let's live together!"

At that time, my mother prioritized my father's treatment over her own breast cancer, which had been discovered around the same time.

She decided to postpone her own treatment until my father's was completed. Despite facing breast cancer, my mother emerged victorious, and our life together, hers and mine, continued thereafter.

My father had his colon cancer removed and was cured, but he was then diagnosed with cancer again.

He refused chemotherapy treatment and entered hospice care.

In July 2010, my father passed away peacefully at home.

The separation from my father.

From there, my life with my mother began.

My mother's surgery was successful, but she had to continue going to the hospital for monthly radiation therapy for ten years.

However, she finally finished her treatment safely.

For ten years, I managed to arrange my schedule to take my mother to the hospital by car every time.

As I accompanied my mother in her radiation therapy, it was the end of a long battle for me as well.

The biginning of a six-year caregiving journey

We thought that the house we had lived in had fulfilled its purpose, so we moved out and moved into our current house in December 2016.

The following year, on October 4, 2017, my mother broke four ribs in a bicycle accident and was hospitalized.

This is when she was certified as a level 2 care recipient, and her caregiving life began.

I had been helping my mother as she gradually declined with age, but this was when I truly entered the realm of caregiving.

Four hospitalizations in six years

I may write a separate article for a more detailed explanation, but I will skip it for now.

Simply put, after her ribs healed, my mother fell and broke her wrist and was hospitalized.

Around this time, my mother's caregiving certification had been upgraded from level 2 to level 3.

After her wrist surgery and a long hospitalization, my mother was discharged and began receiving outpatient treatment.

However, a blood test at her regular internal medicine clinic showed some abnormalities.

As a result of tests at a large hospital that her clinic doctor referred her to, a shadow was found in her right lung.

The pulmonologist at the large hospital explained that the shadow was probably lung cancer and the risks of treatment, but recommended palliative care instead.

I wanted treatment, even though it was risky.

However, my mother immediately said, "That's fine." So, I respected her wishes and said nothing more.

However, after the sputum test that day, the hospital called me the next day and told me that tuberculosis bacteria were found in the sputum.

I was told to be hospitalized immediately, and this was my third hospitalization.

I won't go into detail, but this marked the beginning of a difficult battle with tuberculosis that lasted for about a year.

I remember when I came home after hearing the doctor say that the shadow in my mother's lung would probably disappear even if she had tuberculosis. She let out a sigh of relief and said, "I'm so glad, I'm relieved."

I realized that even though my mother had been living her life as usual without saying anything or making a fuss, she was still worried.

However, even then, a small sense of uneasiness remained in my heart, and I couldn't shake the feeling that even if the tuberculosis was cured, the shadow in her lung would not disappear.

On the night of July 26, 2023, just a few days before the end of her tuberculosis treatment, my mother said to me, "I don't want any food. I don't feel like eating."

This was the first time that my mother, who had always eaten all of the food I made for her, had said she didn't want to eat.

It was the first time in the six years I had been cooking for her that this had happened.

I immediately felt that something strange was happening to my mother.

My mother had been complaining of a slight back pain for a while. She said she felt better when I rubbed her back, but I was worried that the situation was more serious than I thought. So, I decided to call a visiting nurse.

Her symptoms worsened during the time it took for the nurse to arrive, and the nurse immediately called an ambulance.

This was my mother's fourth hospitalization.

Coexisting gallbladder cancer, liver cancer, and lung cancer

Tuberculosis is a Class 2 infectious disease in Japan, and at that time, when the COVID-19 pandemic was still raging, COVID-19 was also a Class 2 infectious disease. As a result, it was difficult to find a hospital that would accept my mother. The ambulance was unable to depart for a long time, and the paramedics negotiated with various hospitals over and over again. Finally, the hospital that is currently treating my mother for tuberculosis accepted her.

The examination results showed that there was a problem with the gallbladder, but even with painkillers and various treatments, my mother's back pain did not go away.

Three days after her hospitalization, I went to the hospital to bring her some supplies. When I asked about her condition, I was told that she was going into emergency surgery. I was given a brief explanation and a stack of paperwork to sign.

And since the COVID-19 pandemic, family members are no longer allowed to wait in the hospital during surgery. So, I was sent home.

After returning home, I waited for a long time for a call from the hospital. Finally, the phone rang, and it was a call to inform me that the surgery was over.

First, there was a large gallbladder cancer, so the gallbladder was completely removed. The cancer had also metastasized to the liver, so all visible cancer was removed.

During that hospitalization, the tuberculosis treatment was continued at the hospital and completed during the hospitalization. In the subsequent chest X-ray, my anxiety was confirmed, and the shadow from a year ago had increased by about 1.5 times. It had not disappeared, but had even gotten larger.

The attending physician of hepatobiliary and pancreatic surgery, who performed the gallbladder and liver surgery, said, "Given the risk of metastasis, a larger surgery that removes lymph nodes and other organs is needed immediately." On the other hand, he said, "It is pointless to focus on the gallbladder and liver without addressing the treatment of the lungs. We will wait for the treatment plan for the lungs."

My mother accepted the decision not to treat her cancer and accepted death.

However, the conclusion of the attending physician of pulmonology was the same as a year ago, "palliative care." Mother immediately agreed to this, so I decided to respect her wishes again.

The attending physician of hepatobiliary and pancreatic surgery told us, "There is no point in treating only the gallbladder and liver if you are not going to treat the lungs."

and told us "That the treatment was over."

My mother had always hated being bedridden and being a burden to her family, even when she was healthy.

I didn't think it was a bother at all, and I called my mother in the hospital and told her, "Even if we can communicate, I still want you to be by my side."

However, my mother did not respond to that.

Unlike my father, my mother did not care whether she owned or rented a house. She simply wanted to spend her last moments at home, not in a hospital.

I still can't accept my mother's death, but of course, even then, I didn't know how to accept the fact that she was no longer going to be helped.

Epilogue

After this, my mother's illness, rehabilitation, and care, and my music activities all started at the same time. It was a really eventful six years, so this time I decided to just briefly explain the events leading up to her death and the fact that she passed away suddenly on November 26th.

Even though she was receiving palliative care, which should have meant a slow decline, some of you may have thought "She passed away suddenly?!" I will explain the reason for this in more detail in future posts.

Now, I am alone in the house where I lived with my mother, performing her memorial services.