Page of Swords & The High Priestess, vol.9
The "TAO Shiatsu/Acupressure" workshop was very meaningful. In the work where we chanted "Namu Amitabha Buddha" and used imagery to send a "Ball of Light" to the farthest place we could imagine, some of us cried when someone gave us a "Ball of Light" and we felt their "Love". I later became a Reiki healer and still refer to this workshop in many cases. However, after the preparatory exercise was over, I was not in a situation to enjoy the subsequent work. I told you the reason last time. My future husband, Masato Shiraishi, probably has esophageal cancer. He himself is surely unaware of it, since he came to a place like this and is working diligently on the workshop. So having discovered it, I had to somehow take him to the doctor. It was a very uncomfortable role, but I have to accomplish it. In the meantime, let's invite him to dinner.
But he had come with C. J. Raymond and declined my invitation to eat. C. J. Raymond, however, smirked, patted him on the shoulder, said a word or two, and hurried away.
Wow! A very, very, very, very, beauty lady is asking ya, my very, very, very, very, best friend, out on a date! I'm not that booooooooorish to bring ya home!
Maybe C. J. Raymond said something like this to Masato Shiraishi super quickly, but Masato clearly looked troubled when he was told. But C. J. Raymond didn't care and said the following before walking away.
This is also Forgiveness.
He was left behind and seemed more frightened of me than troubled.
He wouldn't look at me. Am I being that overbearing with him? I wanted to ask him. But before I could ask him, he told me the honest truth.
I can't prepare the meal you deserve. I have very little money.
When we first met, we were both dressed for exercise. He was wearing a sweatshirt and I was wearing yoga wear. But after the workshop, I had changed. Oh, she's wearing something that looks amazingly expensive. He later told me that he was intimidated by my attire. I had a Boucheron hanging from each ear, a Gucci bag. And my watch was a Franck Muller Master Banker. Because it was designed to tell the time in the three major stock markets of New York, London, and Tokyo at the same time.
But the definitive one, apparently, was "Miss Dior Cherie". It was the fragrance that heralded a new era for Christian Dior, perfumed by Christine Nagel, and it had just been released, but I certainly wore it after the workshop.
In fact, the retired Japanese singer Momoe Yamaguchi had released a song called "Miss Dior" in 1977, and Masato Shiraishi had introduced that song in the ending of his radio program "Far East Rare Groove" on-air just a few days before we met.
At that time, he wanted to know what perfume it smelled like, and he actually bought it. So, he knew I was using "Miss Dior Cherie". So, he knew the price, so he understood that I was wealthy, and then he became frightened and frightened.
I have very little money....
But his confession reassured me. He is an honest man! Good! I'll be honest too!
I stopped the cab. Then I suddenly grabbed his arm and forced him into the cab. I was actually a little excited! I was like Katharine Hepburn or Rosalind Russell in a Howard Hawks movie, right? Or Miriam Hopkins or Claudette Colbert when they are in Ernst Lubitsch's film? Or perhaps Carole Lombard?
I lied about going to dinner. The destination is a hospital. You need a full examination, absolutely, positively, absolutely!
On Friday, August 26, I picked him up from Boogie Down Bronx and went back to the hospital to listen to the results of a full examination with him. The results of the full exam were exactly as I had predicted. On the contrary, his esophageal cancer had metastasized to the point where it was "untreatable" in the general sense of the word. He was, of course, shocked. The doctor went on to say.
Well, you know, there is no way but to have a very, very expensive treatment.
Masato said nothing. I have no money. That must have been his feeling. I, on the other hand, was somewhat calm, and I could tell from the derisive look on the doctor's face that he was inwardly looking down on the Oriental.
Sure, there is such a thing as super, super, super expensive treatment, so there is no need to give up. But, well, a poor slant eyed oriental can't afford it. LOL!
The doctor thought so inwardly.
I gradually became angry at the doctor's attitude. Which hospital? I shouldn't tell you that. LOL.
Well, he told the doctor that he would return to Japan for treatment. The doctor, however, was well aware of the medical situation in Japan, so he told me the following:
Japan's public health insurance system only allows surgery, anticancer drugs, and radiation therapy for cancer treatment. So, Japan will surely abandon you. LOL!
What heartless words! My anger reached its peak. Even though it was an expensive treatment, it was not a heart transplant surgery, and I am absolutely certain that I could pay for his cancer treatment. No, to begin with, I would be able to pay the full amount even if he needed a heart transplant surgery! Don't disrespect me, who is called "Tsuji-Giri OYUKI"! I swore I would definitely pay the full amount. So right after we left the hospital, I told him that I would pay him in full and that he should have the treatment.
I've been investing since the beginning of my business, so I have a lot of very good stocks in my portfolio that I call "Dividend Aristocrats" or "Dividend Kings" that have been increasing their dividends every year for decades... BlackBerry stock, Microsoft stock, Google stock, Apple stock, and so on. I've had them since early on and they've gone up in value like crazy, so you have nothing to worry about. That doctor discriminates against Orientals and look down on us. I can pay for your treatment in full. I will pay for your cancer perfectly! Let's sell some stocks to make some money! Don't worry about anything!
But he had completely given up. I will go back to Japan and die there. I should at least thank my mother.... That's all he said.
By the way, I did not know at this point that the "mother" he was trying to thank was his stepmother. Now I am speaking to you in English, but our conversation at this time is, of course, in Japanese. He did not say "Kei-Bo" or "Mama-Haha" or any other word equivalent to "stepmother". He only said "Kaa-San," which is the equivalent of "mother," so I had no idea that his birth mother had died when he was 9 years old and that he was then raised by his stepmother.
Now back to the story. I was very angry at his negativity. So, I rather said the following:
Well, I'm leaving too. Let's go back to Japan! You never know what will happen in life! You never know! Let's go!
I decided to go along with him. In fact, he didn't really have any money and couldn't even get a plane ticket back to Japan. So, he agreed to go with me. I took him back to his rented apartment in Boogie Down Bronx by cab and immediately returned to "The Carlyle, A Rosewood Hotel", where I was staying, and quickly started preparing to go back to Japan. I had to buy a plane ticket. If I needed anything else, I could buy it on the way. Then it was just a matter of contacting Angie Kendall, explaining the situation, and extending my vacation. Angie wasn't too surprised. Of course, he would need to prepare for his return home. He would need to pack, but the most important thing for him was to ask the FM station that broadcasts "Far East Rare Groove" for a medical leave.
Strike while iron is hot. Three days after we heard the results of his full medical examination, the day finally came for us to return to Japan. It was the first time for me to return to Japan in a long time. I went to the apartment where he was renting a room. But he did not come out of his room. Then C. J. Raymond came to visit him. C. J. Raymond wondered why Masato had not come to the concert of his own Funk band, SIZZLIN' HOT, which had been held the day before, and came to check on him.
C. J. Raymond did not know that Masato was going back to Japan. When I told him what had happened, he suddenly became anxious and banged on the door of Masato's room with a loud voice.
Hey, Masato!
Open the door!
Hey, hey, Masa!
©Mitsuhiro Toda@Screenwriter Group Aquariusera
