Still Active at Age 99:
Not long ago, I watched on television Dr. Shigeaki Hinohara whom I hold in high esteem. At age 99, he is still active as a medical doctor and gives care to terminal cancer patients. His astounding vigor, mild manners, keen faculty of hearing, smile of a young man glued me to the program as he uttered each word.

I wish to quote some of his unforgettable words here:
“Instead of telling the patient to hold out to the end, just try to feel empathy with him/her…,” “Things that are really important remain invisible to us…,” “I say ‘bye for now” always thinking of the next meeting…,” “I want all kids to think seriously about death….” These plain words expressed his thoughts, but it is very difficult to get to their bottom. Dr. Hinohara always tries to plant these and other words in the mind of each patient with a hope that they will remain there as an unquenchable light.

He talks to a patient suffering from cancer of the pancreas in the terminal stage. The patient has remained in his own shell and has never talked even with his family members. Dr. Hinohara’s natural way of talking is accompanied with a smile and evinces no effort to persuade or impose. Eight days after the meeting with the doctor, the patient dies. Looking back, his wife recollects, “The fact that a smile came back to my husband’s face helped me feel at ease. He definitely changed after he met Dr. Hinohara. The doctor’s words saved him from the fear of death, or helped him to believe in the other world…,” she says in appreciation.

Ms. N, a Purehearted Woman like a Young Girl:
In the year 2010, I was given opportunities to be at the departing moment of four respectable patients. On these occasions, I was told about unforgettably moving experiences of the patients themselves and their families.

On March 30th, Ms. N, who was of the same age as I myself, succumbed to a long illness. It was multiple organ failures. I was able to talk with her for hours about many things just a few days before her death. In her bed, she listened to the radio and gathered lots of information on local foodstuffs. So much so that she did not lack any knowledge about food items. I had never talked with her for such a long time on anything other than sickness.
“Dear doc, I am eating lots of things on the radio,” said she with a happy smile on her face. It was unbelievable that somebody who was not able to eat anything could smile in such an attractive manner. I cannot forget her smile. What a strong character! So thinking, I tenderly grasped her thin and weak hands with deep respect. Every time I listen to Kana Uemura’s song “Toireno Kamisama (The Goddess of the Toilet),” its lyrics remind me of the purehearted smile of Ms. N.

Ms. H, Who Never Gave up:
On April 27th, Ms. H, aged 64, overcame her cancer against which she had fought bravely for 16 years. Early in the suffering stage, her doctor had said one week was left for her. Then his estimate somehow grew longer and longer like “she had only one more month” to live, and then to “till about the end of the year.” Thus, Ms. H’s life was given up six or seven times by the doctor. But one day, when he asked her how she was feeling, she promptly responded, “I will live, doctor!”
The doctor was astounded by her life power. “Strange, indeed. I wonder where that power comes from,” he said, giving up any more attempt to predict about her life. Even immediately after her death, she looked plump and tender, belying her fight against cancer. She had kept saying, “I must fight and win for my daughter….” Her daughter had said, “My mother is far more important to me than my own life….”
Thus, mother and daughter fought together courageously against cancer. Blessed with such a close-knit family relationship, the mother departed completely satisfied. I cannot help but put my hands together in prayer for her peaceful rest.

A Close-knit Family in Eternal Relationships:
Ms. M passed away in November. She died after suffering a brain contusion. At the beginning of the year, she fell at her workplace and had a strong blow to the head.
For a 10 long months she struggled one hard day after another with her parents. As her medical caretaker, I made house calls on her and gave her advice and treatment based on the guidance received from my mentor. She gradually became able to move her eyes, shed tears, and to show emotions. But she passed away.
At her funeral service on November 18th, she was peacefully resting with a beautiful expression I had ever seen, encircled with colorful flowers. I was not able to take my eyes off her face as if I was looking at an attractive bride at a wedding ceremony. Her look went a long way toward soothing the pain of her parents, who calmly accepted her death. Her father said, “She taught us many things, indeed.”
It is indeed very difficult for me to describe her parents’ love and caring for her.

Ms. S, Who Was Always Thankful, No Matter What:
On December 4th, Ms. S, who had been our patient since my late mother was actively practicing, passed away. She suffered from four kinds of heart problems plus
troubled gallbladder. Her family as well as herself had trusted absolutely in the merit of acupuncture treatment. In her terminal stage, I was allowed to see her in the ICU (intensive care unit) and continue to give treatment in the care unit. At age 80, she showed unbelievable life power and kept living, always saying, “Thank you. I have nothing but thanks to you.” The sight of her daughter, who so dedicatedly looked after her suffering mother, still remains very vivid in my memory.
I myself can keenly feel and understand the sorrow of losing one’s beloved mother, with whom one has lived for many years. While receiving the acupuncture treatment, Ms. S recovered her physical strength more than once, even became able to enjoy eating, which was literally miraculous. On November 18th, her daughter and I raised our hands with cheers of “banzai” in the ICU. I’ll never be able to forget the emotions I felt at that moment. Then she quietly breathed her last, embraced in the arms of her daughter. Her doctor and nurse watched with a surprised look.

All these patients unexceptionally ended their lives after fulfilling their individual missions beautifully. Their marvelous expressions at the end of their lives seemed to prove this fact, which helped me realize anew the value of acupuncture/moxibustion treatment. I put my palms together in prayer that I will be able to meet them again somewhere sometime in the future.

I also would like to thank those who kept reading my columns during the year of 2010.

The Relationship Between Body and Mind:
The mind and body of a human being are inseparable. This principle of non-duality is the base of oriental medicine.
“Excessive anger harms the liver, excessive thought injures the spleen, excessive sadness damages the lungs, excessive fear wounds the kidneys, and excessive delight hurts the mind.” This quote sums it all up. Such relations between the mind and physical organs have been believed to exist since ancient times. Emotions and sentiments come to the fore in our daily encounters with various situations, but if they happen to be excessive or continue too long, the physical side is likely to be affected one way or another.
Actually, those who suffer from liver problems are more likely to get irritated or angry. Those who keep thinking about unpleasant matters too long tend to have digestive problems and pains in the spleen, stomach or intestines, which, in serious cases, may invite ulcers that may turn malignant. Also, as we saw in the Great Hanshin Earthquake, not a few people lost the capacity to stand up because of the fright. The kidneys and legs are closely interconnected.

Respectable Patients:
This year as usual I was blessed with opportunities to see a number of patients, some of whom faced a tightrope condition trying to correct their inharmonious balance between body and mind.
When he returned to work after being absent due to illness, Mr. A was abruptly told by his chief that the workplace was ‘NOT a rehabilitation center!’ as he was dragging his way on aching legs in the hallway. He says, “Coming to the acupuncture clinic gives me the courage to keep fighting on, not giving up.”
Ms. K, who had a series of worrisome problems that brought about Parkinson’s disease tremors, is older than me. She says, “Suffering has changed me into an individual who can really appreciate life and feel thankful .” It is great to be told about such an experience by her.
Ms. I, who has long struggled with a handicapped son and complains of various physical pains here and there, holds my hands each time she comes to my clinic, saying she feels encouraged by every word I say to her.
Ms. O, who suffered from hyperventilation syndrome, insomnia, tremor of hands, mental imbalance, and overall aching of her whole body, all due to her physical and mental exhaustion, was not able to eat anything except liquid food for six months. She looked happy one day and said, “Listen, ma’am. I was able to eat a rice ball for the first time in six months!”
It is not uncommon that in our waiting room the patients share their different problems and encourage each other; those who suffered cerebral infarctions, those who are happily sharing the joy of having overcome atopic symptoms, laughing or crying while talking about their experiences with each other. In this way, my acupuncture clinic often turns into a place of warmhearted communications among these people.
This may sound as an exaggeration, but let me dare say that a number of people are actually being saved from their agonies in their daily lives. Each one of them is struggling to get by from day to day. As I see these patients looking so much pleased with the improvement in their spiritual and physical conditions, I feel as if I myself am being saved by my patients. In other words, these people are testifying to the value of acupuncture treatment. Spiritually, I am so much indebted to these heroic patients

From Drug-centered Treatment to Treatment Based on Natural Healing Power:
Almost always a physical problem rises from some mental conflicts within ourselves.
Can a treatment that ignores this reality bring any effect? I cannot help asking this question today when more and more new medicines are being introduced into the medical world. Can this situation be entrusted to psychosomatic specialists alone? Here in Japan, the professional counseling is extremely expensive, and most treatments still depend on drugs.
I myself have a long way to go before I become able to fully understand the feelings of my patients, which is the very reason why I’m thus trying to learn eagerly and humbly from their experiences. By so doing, I hope I’m helping this superb oriental medicine reach out to each patient and dynamically draw out his or her natural healing power.
I sincerely hope that those who have experienced nerve-snapping agonies will direct their kind hearts thus gained toward those who need it to be rescued.

The Starting Point of My Medical Profession
Memories of My Mother, Part IV

The Moment of Death:
The late autumn of November 26, 2004, with its clean air and gentle sunshine, remains unforgettable. A call came from my brother telling me to come home immediately.
My mother’s departure, being watched by all the family members, was something extremely tranquil. Her facial expression was that of an old person above 90, thin and rawboned, obviously because of prolonged struggle with her illness. I threw my arms around her neck, kept my cheek to hers, shedding tears for an hour or two. Then I looked at her, and saw a change in her expression, now appearing astonishingly younger
even with some plumpness, and with a gentle smile in her eyes and around her mouth. Her body and expression felt soft and glossy. “What? Is she still breathing?” My brother and I looked at each other, asking such a question. There we saw the great victory that she accomplished in life. Every time I recollect her face of that moment, a feeling of tenderness gushes up in my heart.

Some Thought on the Treatment of Cancer:
For some reason, after the death of my mother I’m meeting with many precious opportunities to come into contact with patients suffering from cancer. All these people are courageously fighting with cancer and living respectable lives. I cannot help taking my hat off to their spiritual strength.
Engaged in this acupuncture profession, I am blessed with abundant opportunities to observe the fears and anxieties of the patient, and to look back and think about my own past objectively. The acupuncture and moxibustion treatment serves to endlessly enhance the spiritual and physical power to alleviate the raging cancer. The treatment is given based on the assessment of the patients’ capability to cope with the disease.
Of course, it is not an easy task, but the focus of the treatment is on the life power of the
party giving the treatment, fighting against the evil power such as cancer or anything that invades and corrodes the life of the treated.
In the so-called three major remedies for cancer in modern medicine, namely, the anticancer drug, radiotherapy, and surgical removal, such a ‘leisurely’ stance I mention might be derided. But then, how should we face cases in which patients die while the cancer has disappeared?
The question cannot be answered unless we look at each human life as a whole, comprising both his/her spiritual and physical sides, and stop observing only the cancer itself that affects the physical entity. Actually this observation points out the problem now faced in modern medical care. I am not alone in this observation and there are many who doubt the merit of concentrating only on the three major remedies and ignoring the role played by the spiritual approach. The essential spirit of medicine emanates from the love toward the patient, compassion for the person who suffers, and the highest respect for life itself. This of course includes the attention to correctly prescribing anticancer drugs, their proper dosage, and the length of use, etc. This is the basic and ideal stance of medicine being yearned for by everybody today.

Taking on My Mission:
Mr. Rempu Fujimoto, my acupuncture-moxibustion mentor, is treating a number of people who have cancer and achieving remarkable results. His overall method of checking the patients’ conditions ranges over the state of mind, tongue, abdomen, and the pulse. It does not give too much burden to the patients’ physical strength, while being very effective in obtaining necessary information on their conditions.
I cannot help but believe that by making me meet such a great mentor and by dying from cancer herself, my mother entrusted me with the mission of helping people not to contract cancer (preventive medicine) and to fight successfully against cancer, if affected.
I do firmly believe that the acupuncture/moxibustion treatment has the astounding power to save cancer patients in the terminal stage, helpless and given up by medical doctors. That is because the acupuncture/moxibustion treatment does not regard the physical body as something detached from its soul.
This is an area that no doctors are able to reach and no dexterity or technology can help. It is in this area that Oriental medicine, which can reach the soul and spirit of the patient, is proving effective. It is the touchstone of the individual human being who is giving the treatment. The thought makes me feel gravely serious.

On the occasion of the 7th anniversary of her death, both my brother and I would like to dedicate my brother’s book “Introduction to Meterology (Daikei Kishogaku Nyumon)” based on his 20-year research, and my determination to pursue my mission as described in this column, to our late mother, Kazu Hashimoto, the great acupuncturist.

The Starting Point of My Medical Profession
Memories of My Mother, Part III

The Meaning of Living:
Defying the prediction of her doctor that she would not be able to get back home by herself, she did manage it. Almost without exception, the hospitalized people yearn to get back home, I’m sure. After coming home, my mother uttered some words, expressing not only her joy, but also her readiness to face death. Once born, all of us are destined to die regardless of our positions or statuses. But, while young, not very many realize this inevitability.
How we live each day, what we are going to leave behind when we are gone; these are unavoidable questions for us Homo sapiens that are all destined to die someday. In the letters she wrote to the people of the same profession, my mother indicated her readiness to face death by saying, for instance: “It is my mission to keep advocating this preventive medicine, no matter what…,” “I’m determined to live through my whole life with conviction without being bothered by critical voices of others…,” or “All of us human beings live to prepare for death….” Thus, she always lived her life, based on her strong conviction and gazing at her own approaching death.
Her conviction was that we should learn useful meanings from everything, including illness. Her conviction was shared by me, for we knew that anything and everything that happens and exists in the universe has a meaning. So, what happened in our lives had some great meaning to us, we believed.

Coming in Touch with People’s Souls:
A few days before her death, when she was no longer able to communicate, I noticed her mouth moving as if to say, “Arigato, arigato (thank you, thank you)” unflinchingly. I knew her death was just around the corner, and did my best to relieve her feelings and help her feel completely at ease.
One night, as I was massaging her arms, she mumbled, “I feel no pain at all…. What wonderful hands you have!” She looked happy. How should I touch my patients, and in what state of mind? Is my mind totally clean of impurity? Only through a mind of absolute unselfishness, we can reach the depth of our patients’ souls. This is and should be the starting point of my medical profession.

Struggling with Severe Pain:
In May 2004, six months before my mother’s death, she and I made a trip to South Korea. She was so fascinated by the popular Korean drama “Ho Jun” that she had wanted for long to visit Korea sometime in her life. We had our photo taken in front of the statue of Ho Jun examining a young girl. My mother was mesmerized, gazing at his affectionate eyes and plump hands.
At that time, she was already suffering from hard pain from cancer. Right after returning from Korea the pain in the abdomen, back and legs grew so serious that she could not handle her work. She visited one hospital after another to have the condition examined. At the first hospital, heart trouble was suspected and cardiovascular check up was made at large hospitals, too. Electrocardiograms and blood tests revealed nothing wrong, however. Finally they diagnosed her with fibromyalgia syndrome (FMS). In June, the pain grew worse. My brother and I took turns giving her acupuncture treatment and applied frozen wet towels to her back and abdomen every five minutes or so all night until my hands began to get blistered. Behind the pancreas, which is located right behind the stomach, is an abdominal nervous system. Her cancer had spread to this area. The pain must have been unbearable, but my mother’s perseverance was indefatigable.

Serious Fight Against Illness:
Four months later, it was confirmed at a neighboring clinic that my mother had cancer of the pancreas. It was a month and a half before her death.
About 20 years ago, when she was living a most hectic life, she was hospitalized for the first time in her life for an inflammation of the pancreas. Although at that time a suspicious image of tumor was observed, it was gone in the subsequent check-up. She was released a few days afterward, but it was actually the beginning of the malignant stage of cancer, the doctor opined.
The hateful fact of cancer is that it causes severe pains. It mercilessly grows and gnaws into the body, but I strongly believe that the spiritual power of a human being is strong enough to fight against it and is never affected in the least by its spread. The precious experiences I had during my life with my mother at the hospital for a month and a half are deeply inculcated in my mind; so much so that I cannot cover them in this page.
The cancer spread to the liver, lungs, kidneys and everywhere in her body. My brother and I kept giving her acupuncture treatment at the hospital under the guidance of my mentor. Her hospital doctor kindly advised us to do so, for he knew that there was no longer any cure to be offered by occidental medicine.

The Rhythm of the Universe:
At the hospital, my mother’s ferocious fight against cancer strangely produced a humorous atmosphere accompanied by occasional outbursts of laughter. Each word uttered by her made people around her smile and laugh. Although she herself was no longer able to eat anything, she showed thought to my meals and said, “When I’m home, I’ll prepare food for you that will make you intelligent.” Later, I found a cookbook on her bookshelf titled “Food That Makes You Intelligent,” and I smiled to myself.
Why could she remain so cheerful and induce laughter, while suffering so much physically? On the day when her cancer was discovered, I began to feel that my whole self was being absorbed into the rhythm of the universe. It was September 30th.
The “Rhythm of the Universe” meant riding on the universal rhythm under any circumstances, forging naturally ahead toward “good.” It was a completely honest, though a bit imprudent, expression of my feeling at the time.
Although my mother’s continued struggle caused me to suffer bitterly, too, both mentally and physically, things began to work in the best direction for her, which filled my heart with boundless gratitude for the blessing gained from the “Rhythm of the Universe.”