Toast to Life 4

Another thing they have in common in Singapore, found from our three cases, is that the awareness by medical doctors, "medical information belongs to the individual", is persistent and overwhelmingly higher than in Japan. First of all, a doctor's explanation is extremely detailed compared to that in Japan. For my case, not to mention the contents of the reports from the US, the attitude that everything the doctor sees and hears belongs to the patient is kept up and maintained. The video call on September 4th gives the crystal clear example. I cannot stop admiring the attitude of trying to make a video call bridging over Singapore and Japan. 

Japan, where everything is rounded up, gives me impression of "Sontaku culture", or too much consideration to others in the same group. I have always been an advocate of "Japan is a country where people living there get unhappy and even miserable" since I was in New York back in 2000. Today in medical industry, it may be still acceptable to paraphrase "tumor" as "product", or"malignant" as "bad behavioral". More significant is when I raised a question to my doctor in Japan, about the possibility of my taking genetic diagnosis, which my Singapore doctor told me a couple months before that. I had already presented a medical certificate of Raffles Hospital and the US laboratory reports to the Narita doctor. To my question, the doctor in charge replied back saying, "well, the things I do are the same," and no further comments came out. I'm not blaming him. I would like readers of this blog series to understand that I am seeing the challenges of the Japanese medical community of the current situation.

In relation with it, I would write a bit different story. In 2018, after being discharged from the hospital, my wife Koko (or Tokko) was asked by Concord International Hospital, cancer special hospital, to seal a business contract for  medical translation and chauffeur services to those from Japan. The hospital would be the one I received the operation a year later in 2019, by the way.  She did accept it and started it under the name of "Hummingbird Care & Support". The name was drawn by the fact that since 2013 we started our business a risk consulting firm registered under "Hummingbird Advisories". Without Japanese insurance in Singapore, it would inevitably be targeted to a wealthy person, but we had a sense of crisis that the Japanese medical world is slow and information disclosure far from sufficient. It was when I consulted with a private banker I had a relationship with in Tokyo, that the banker insisted and urged me to start it, by citing those who was diagnosed as a caner, especially breast one, going to the west coast of the US at a price several times higher than in Singapore. It was a pity, though, that I didn't hear from Japan at the end of the day.

On a different note, I would like to touch on what I thought last year when I was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. Before admission, with confused mindset, I wrote a farewell note to my family on my bed at home, putting a PC on my laps. Re-reading it now is too embarrassing, but I still feel the same way as I did last year. I will introduce it with minor touching-ups and notes.

(July 23, 2019, 10:08 pm, home bed)

I was surprised at how upset I was when I was about to die. It's not decided yet, but I think I was saved just because it doesn't seem to be that of my pancreas (note, we lost our friend in Tokyo a few months before my note, who passed away from it). Still, a cancer is a cancer. I cannot be relieved until  I confirm the metastasis (note, I was told after the operation that there was no metastasis). Still, I would like to finish up writing what I think during when "death" is away a bit from my feelings.

It's called a fight against illness (cancer), but it's different, I think. What we have to fight is against the distortion, fear and pessimism that comes from the fact of a cancer. Whether you are pessimistic or optimistic, if you have the same amount of time left, you should live optimistically. As a husband, my responsibility is as their father, and the desire to live happily with my family as much as possible. They (note, family) would be the same. If you always look at yourself mourning your illness, you will be disgusted by them.

I can't control the three things: "past", "my body", and "others". If you mourn them, you lose. Only my feelings can be controlled by myself. Actions come with feelings, so it's secondary, and what's important is my feelings. How to live my time left behind should not be something I would curse. Depending on my feelings, I am sure I will be able to spend quality time with my family as much as I do.

At NHK TV program I watched last night, judoka Yuko Fujii said, "a Japanese saying states that luck is part of your ability, but I think it's different. It's more  correct to states that strong will brings luck." Yes, that's right (note, Ms. Fujii lives in Brazil with her family and is the national men's team coach, not women's).

Have a strong will. No matter what it takes, be strong. Don't lose fear.

(The photo is taken at Kota Kinabalu, Borneo, on November 28, 2019, when we the family joined our daughter & son's friends in a Singapore school to trip there. The family was mixture of Americans and Canadians, and they are the ones who urged me to re-write the blogs into English. To be continued.)