I'm a Japanese housewife living in Japan. I'm in my 60's. I want to know daily lives in the world, so at first I'll tell my daily. What is your daily life?
We've finished talking with the two doctors at the hospital and the care manager, and we've let our children know about the situation. This morning, we're taking a moment to remind ourselves that we have no doubts about the choices we've made.
Today, we'll go to our local clinic as usual. We might have lunch out, and we'll go to the gym in the evening.
Oh, and since it's the end of the month, I need to update our bank passbook. We still manage our household finances the old-fashioned way—by keeping our bank passbook up to date.
This is my update from yesterday's hospital visit.
Next week, Yuki will be admitted to the hospital for one night and two days to undergo another biopsy. It has been three years since his first biopsy. The chances are very small, but there is still a possibility that the characteristics of his cancer have changed. If that has happened, it may open up new treatment options.
If not, the doctor suggested one last chemotherapy drug. However, it is unclear how effective it would be in slowing the cancer, and I didn't get the impression that it was being recommended with much confidence. Since we don't want to lower his quality of life any further, we're taking some time to think carefully about what to do.
If he decides not to have the chemotherapy, the plan will be careful monitoring rather than active treatment. The good news is that the cancer is not progressing aggressively at the moment, so the doctor did not talk about life expectancy.
That's my update. I tried to write it as calmly as I could. Thank you for reading.
It’s been extremely hot day after day. It’s 6:30 a.m. now, and we’ve already finished breakfast. Yuki will leave for the hospital in about 30 minutes.
He has the first appointment of the day, so he’ll have blood tests and a chest X-ray before seeing the doctor. I’ll leave home just before 8:00 a.m.
The doctor is expected to explain the CT scan results and discuss what lies ahead. We know we have to accept whatever comes, but it’s still hard to face.
I also updated my YouTube channel earlier today. It’s about our garden. The garden is a bit overgrown with weeds, but a gardener is coming next week to take care of it.
It suddenly became very hot and humid. I've been suffering from the summer heat, so I often spend my afternoons sleeping. Yuki has been dozing off in front of his computer, too. I guess we're both in the same boat.
As usual, during the third week of his treatment cycle, Yuki's white blood cell count dropped, so he wasn't able to receive chemotherapy this week.
Next week is finally the CT scan. We'll discuss the results with his doctor and decide how to move forward with his treatment. The doctor has already told us that there are almost no treatment options left.
Since Yuki couldn't have chemotherapy yesterday, we finished at the hospital much earlier than usual and treated ourselves to a wonderful lunch. Thankfully, both of us have been getting our appetites back, so we're doing all right.
Even though the future is uncertain, we're grateful for the small, ordinary moments we can still enjoy together.
Yuki seems to be doing all right on the surface. He was able to have another round of chemotherapy this week. Based on the pattern so far, I don’t think he’ll have chemotherapy next week.
Today, he’s been asked to play the bass in a band, so he’s going to perform. I’m really glad he was able to go.
However, we also learned this time that the chemotherapy he’s currently receiving is becoming less effective. The shadows on his lungs have become more pronounced again. He’ll have a CT scan at the end of this month, and I suppose everything depends on the results. His doctor has even said that this may be the last chemotherapy option available to him, so all we can do is wait and see what happens.
People often describe chemotherapy as a form of life-prolonging treatment. Our hope is simply that he can continue it without suffering severe side effects, so that he can live with the tumor as part of his daily life.
This afternoon, I’ll be joining an online meeting aboutshūkatsu, which is a Japanese term that has become very common in recent years. It refers to preparing for the final stage of one’s life—not only making arrangements for end-of-life care and funerals, but also organizing finances, legal documents, personal belongings, and thinking about how you want to live the rest of your life. I’m not sure whether there’s a single word for this concept in English.
When my mother was nearing the end of her life, I went through many experiences. Because of that, I earned a private certification as aShūkatsu Advisor. It doesn’t mean I can do anything special, but it has connected me with people who share the same interest. That’s why I’m joining today’s meeting, to discuss what I might be able to do in the future. I’m not sure how much of my personal situation I’ll be able to discuss.
My husband Yuki and I live in a regional city. Our retirement life has state since 2020. Though Something good, exciting, worried or bad often happens, we try to focus the current situation and spend enjoyable days while living offf our savings little by little carefully.
