Out of nowhere: as a weekend diversion I wrote a short short story. Might as well publish it here.
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[Title: Caregiver fatigue]
"Yamaguchi-saaan. Takeo Yamaguchi-saaan."
At a care facility in Tokyo, a nurse looks around frantically, searching the building.
"Again," Isoyama held his head. Second time this month. Look away for a moment and the patient vanishes from the facility. As the assigned caregiver, he's the one who has to go look. He tries to stay attentive to his assigned patients while caring for others, but he can't watch them every second. His charges are all energetic patients — many refuse baths and meals and thrash around. Just earlier a patient had yelled "I don't want to eat this!" and thrown a tray of food against the door of the room; it took forever to wipe every corner, change the sheets, prepare a new tray, and somehow get them to eat. Just when he thought he'd caught a breath, word arrived that someone had walked out. Give me a break, he slumped.
The facility director looked apologetic. "Isoyama-san, sorry. Could you go pick up Yamaguchi-san? I'll watch the other patients."
"I'll go. Sorry — please take care of things." Isoyama left a short goodbye, put on his coat, and went out.
Last time Yamaguchi had been in Shinjuku; probably the same this time. He headed there quickly. According to the family, before dementia set in Yamaguchi had often gone out to Shinjuku. Bodies drifting toward places they used to visit is common, not only for Yamaguchi. Last time, after walking around for about two hours, they'd finally found him at a chain izakaya in Kabukicho. Isoyama went to that izakaya first and asked someone who seemed to be the manager — not there.
The thought of searching aimlessly again for Yamaguchi wandering this huge Shinjuku made him shudder. Leg fatigue piled up day after day, and lately the tiredness was harder to shake than before. Isoyama hardly came to this area in daily life, so the lack of local sense added stress.
He ducked into a café for a break. Ordered iced coffee and a small cake, sank into the chair, closed his eyes a little. Crowded at any hour — near his seat a group of about six people in their seventies and eighties were laughing loudly. Their raised voices irritated him. Hearing them shout about how the last drinking party went and how hungover they were, he gave a bitter smile at the gap with his own endless chase. Staying longer would only add fatigue, so he was shoving cake and coffee into his mouth to leave when Yamaguchi's family called.
"Isoyama-san, we know where he is."
"Thank you. Where?"
"Apparently somewhere called Toyoko. Sorry, but could you go pick him up?"
"Got it. Heading there now." He paid and left. He'd never been to Toyoko, so he asked a staffer for directions.
When he reached Toyoko, he found Yamaguchi sitting on the ground.
"Yamaguchi-san, you can't just leave on your own." When Isoyama spoke, Yamaguchi shouted angrily, "Who the hell are you! Get lost! I don't know you!"
"Let's go home. Your family is worried," Isoyama soothed. After about ten minutes of calming him down, he finally persuaded him and they could start walking together.
On the way back to the facility, Isoyama wondered how long this would go on. Around him were plenty of other staff who looked like caregivers come to pick someone up. The staff coming to pick people up were all elderly; the patients were all young. Yamaguchi had just turned twenty-six last month. Isoyama is currently sixty-seven.
A few years ago a miracle drug for dementia was developed; dementia symptoms around the world improved dramatically. Not only did the fog lift — many older people became as vigorous as the young. In inverse proportion, an unexplained dementia targeting the young spread widely, and "senile youth" increased. Care facilities for young people grew year by year; cause and treatment remained unknown. Young caregivers disappeared, staffing fell short, and elderly care staff like Isoyama surged. How long would this go on?
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That's it.
As an experiment I pulled three random keywords and built a story from them.
This time: "Shinjuku," "wandering," and "small cake."
From Shinjuku I thought of "Toyoko" (the hangout for young people by Toho Cinemas) — and wondered if it might be interesting if that place flipped into a care scene for the elderly.
The small cake came from a vague memory of eating cake at Renoir near Shinjuku East Exit long ago; I stuck that scene in as a bonus.
From story outline to finished draft took about two hours.
That's all. See you next time.
© 2023 ZUUHE