Driving school for the aged

 

 It is a serious problem. Old people cause traffic accidents.

 In Japan, people over 70 years old who have driver’s licenses need to attend elderly training. I am not 70 years old, but I have already taken elderly training twice. I took them with my parents.

 My mother did not drive a car, but she had a license. I did not plan to renew her license because she had Alzheimer’s disease. I was personally interested in the elderly training system. At the beginning of the training, the trainer showed 10 pictures. Then he let the people memorize those pictures. They had to write them down on their papers without seeing the pictures. This was a test for Alzheimer’s disease. Of course, my mother could never remember even one of the pictures. The results of the other tests were worse.

 I assumed the trainer would take away her license, but they simply recommended that she go to a hospital. She already commuted to a hospital. So nothing had happened.

 My father’s case was a little bit different. While I was waiting for the training in the room, a trainer said, “We can’t accept any attendant in this training.” Then he let me out of the room. So I waited outside. Ten minutes later, the trainer came out from the room and asked me. “Your father is angry for some reason. Please handle it.” I entered the room. It was the middle of the 10-picture memorization test. My father was hard of hearing; he could not hear what the trainer said, and he did not know what he should write down. I knew the test very well because I already took it with my mother. So I explained what he should do with a loud voice. Talking to a person who is hard of hearing requires some training. My father’s results were also bad, but they could not take his license away. Nothing happened.

 My father passed away when he was 80 years old. He kept on driving until two days before he died. He caused many small accidents. The doctors, policemen, and our family all tried to stop him from driving. He refused. He died of a heart attack. When I found out he passed away, I breathed a sigh of relief that he finally will not cause serious accidents.

 We really need self-driving cars.

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Picture by Asa

 

 

Abdominal vocalization

 

　My father was hard of hearing. He started to wear a hearing aid when he was in his forties. Without the hearing aid, he could not talk to anyone except me. I could talk with my father without the help of the hearing aid because I was a member of my high school drama club.

 In most cases, if you join a Japanese drama club, you will be taught abdominal vocalization, a technique of making loud sounds using your abdominals. High school drama clubs basically perform in big gymnasiums. We needed this technique to convey lines to the audience. This is not so difficult. A sophomore could teach a freshman.

 This technique was useful to me as a caregiver for my father.

 Ironically, this technique is not so important at other theatrical stages. In a minitheater, it even disturbs one’s performance. It is too loud. In most big theaters, they use wireless microphones. Furthermore, this technique tends to reduce the uniqueness of an actor’s voice. Uniqueness of voice includes how to breathe.

 So abdominal vocalization is useless. But when you talk to a person who is hard of hearing, it is extremely useful.

 One day, my father and I visited a hospital to meet a doctor. I repeated what the doctor said to my father with a loud voice. The doctor heard our conversation. He tried to talk loudly like I did. Abdominal vocalization is not a difficult technique, but it is also not something you can do immediately. The doctor choked while talking. I figured abdominal vocalization was a fundamental technique. At least, it seems doctors do not study this technique in medical schools.

 We should study as many skills as possible. A skill could be useful in some unexpected situations. 

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Picture by koriko

Curtain

 

 

              When I lived with my mother, who had Alzheimer’s disease, I served her dinner at 6:00 p.m. In the winter, it was dark. I had to close the curtains, but I intentionally opened the curtains and helped my mother eat because I wanted to avoid abusing my mother.

              Caregivers tend to abuse patients who have Alzheimer’s disease, especially at home. In most cases, their sons do. Blaming the sons is easy, but I really understand why they do it. Men in my generation don’t expect to be caregivers at home and at school. Generally, they are not good at caregiving. The period when parents need caregiving usually overlaps with the period when their son is at his most blessed.

              Also, Alzheimer’s patients often disturb their caregivers’ sleep. The lack of sleep causes mental and physical disorders. I always thought, This is not my life. I was not raised so nicely by my mother that I need to do this. I was always worried that I could start abusing my mother.

              This was why I took care of my mother with the curtains open. It kept me reasonable. If I abused my mother in this situation, someone might inform the police. I didn’t abuse my mother to protect myself.

              In the end, I never abused my mother. I sent her to a nursery home. It took fourteen years. If a person who is not familiar with Alzheimer’s disease listens to this story, they might feel nothing about it. Not abusing one’s own mother is natural, but I think I made a great achievement.

              In the evening, if you find a house with curtains open, they might have some problems.

Picture by Toranosuke

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The Site Foreman

 

   

           The house we are living in now was built by a trustworthy carpenter. He was the best man at the wedding of my parents-in-law. While he built our house, I sometimes visited the site.

              One day a man who wore work clothes came to the site.

              He asked me, “I am an electrical engineer. Where is the site foreman?”

              The site foreman was the carpenter. I answered, “He must be in the garage now.”

              Then he went to the garage, but he returned soon and said to me, “He is not there.”

              It was strange. I had seen him there a few minutes ago. We went to the garage together. I found the carpenter, who was mixing concrete. I couldn’t understand the situation immediately.

              The electrical engineer hadn’t realized that the carpenter was the site foreman. In those days, we were suffering from a carpenter shortage. Many carpenters were needed for recovery from the Great East Japan Earthquake. So our carpenter couldn’t hire enough craftsmen. He had to do various work jobs by himself. Generally speaking, mixing concrete is not a job for a site foreman. The electrical engineer assumed he have might been one of the craftsmen.

              I pointed at the carpenter who was mixing concrete and said, “He is the site foreman.”

              The electrical engineer was surprised.

              Our house was built with the concrete mixed by the site foreman and the best man at the wedding of my parents-in-law. It must be the best house.

Picture by freehand

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