January 2021. My husband was infected.
It was COVID-19.
He had a fever of 40°C (104°F).
The next day, 40°C. The day after that, 40°C.
It didn't go down for 10 days.
At the time, I was a kindergarten teacher. My children were 1 and 5 years old.
Both the older and younger children were in daycare.
I had just returned from childcare leave and was getting used to life.
The younger one was at a mischievous age, opening kitchens and drawers the moment I looked away.
In the morning, I would put the children on my bicycle, pack two sets of bedding and backpacks in the basket, drop them off, and then go to work.
Even after picking them up at 6:00 PM, there were days I returned to the workplace with them to prepare for sports days or plays.
After the daughters fell asleep, I made costumes for the students, recorded piano music, and prepared documents for the government.
This is me in 2020.
Still, life was somehow manageable.
It was manageable because we were both working.
Then, one of us could no longer get up.
I thought he would get better if we isolated him
Three days after contracting COVID.
My husband's heart rate visibly dropped.
His breathing became shallow, and he couldn't stand up. He couldn't taste anything, so there was very little he could eat.
At that time, there was no medicine for COVID. There were no vaccinations.
We just had to wait for the fever to break.
He was only prescribed painkillers and fever reducers.
However, the fever didn't go down; it only got worse.
I thought, "This is bad."
We had to go to the hospital.
But we couldn't.
At that time, every medical institution was overwhelmed.
It was hard even to get tested. There were no vacancies in inpatient facilities.
Even when I called our family doctor, they wouldn't take him.
So, I called the public health center.
No connection. I called back. No connection. I called back.
I kept calling.
At that time, the only thing I was holding was the phone.
My husband's heart rate was dropping before my eyes. The only thing I could do was redial.
There is no time more powerless than that.
And finally.
Finally, hospitalization was decided.
My husband went to the hospital "walking on his own feet."
And when he was discharged, he was "in a wheelchair."
By the time he came home, he was someone who couldn't walk.
Only six days had passed.
Moreover, the reason for discharge wasn't because he was "cured."
It was because his fever had gone down.
Because the fever broke, people were discharged in order. That was the kind of period it was.
It wasn't anyone's fault. The medical field was at its limit.
But our life started from there.
I think that was the beginning of our battle.
The husband who returned from the hospital was a different person.
The words the doctor told us were COVID aftereffects.
And "Brain Fog."
They were words I had never heard before.
What was actually happening:
My husband lost his sense of taste.
He couldn't feel saltiness or umami at all.
"No matter what I eat, it feels like I'm eating liquid and sand," he said.
And his hair fell out.
The sink would be covered in hair.
I'd clean it in the morning. By night, it was covered again.
The dizziness wouldn't stop.
His semicircular canals were damaged. He couldn't stand straight. He couldn't walk on his own.
He could no longer live a standing life.
He could no longer look at digital screens.
This was the most cruel part.
Just looking at a computer or smartphone screen made him vomit.
My husband worked for a major PC company.
He had built a track record at Docomo and had just changed jobs to a major American PC manufacturer.
When it became clear he couldn't return, he was fired.
COVID took our lives away all at once.
One year after COVID, he recovered enough to go out for his birthday with the family.
Still, I continued as a kindergarten teacher.
I had no choice but to continue. That was our only income.
In the morning, I'd get the kids ready, check on my husband, and go to the kindergarten.
When I came home, it was nursing, childcare, and housework.
A 1-year-old and a 5-year-old don't wait.
My husband's body didn't wait either.
I continued that for a year.
People sometimes say, "That must have been hard."
But at that time, I didn't realize it was hard.
I didn't know what to do, and I didn't want to say it was hard.
At the time, friends and parents provided a lot of support during our isolation. I was truly grateful.
After a year, I realized I didn't know if he would ever recover.
Maybe he'd get better in six months. Maybe it would take five years.
Maybe it would stay like this.
No one could tell me.
I realized that what I was doing now was just "enduring."
But if nothing changes even if you endure, that is a waste of time.
So, I quit being a kindergarten teacher.
I don't think it was a sane judgment.
I loved my job at the kindergarten.
I loved teaching and seeing the children grow.
However, that job is "selling your time."
No matter how much you work, there is a limit.
Even if I became the principal or head teacher, I could see the ceiling of the salary.
So I decided to resign.
And
I thought if this is the bottom of my life, nothing I do can make it worse.
I have no choice but to get results.
People can't get serious if they leave an escape route.
I decided to change my life for my young children and my family.
My knowledge of entrepreneurship was zero.
I had no business plan, no funds, no network, and no track record.
At the time, I didn't even have a smartphone or a PC.
But I started a company.
I bowed my head to the bank and frequented the city hall and the Chamber of Commerce.
Using the 2 million yen loan as capital, I switched from a flip phone to a smartphone.
I bought a PC, a desk, and a chair.
And in the few hours while the children were at daycare,
I looked for what I could do.
What I arrived at was Instagram Live.
It doesn't require editing.
I didn't have the luxury of time for the process of filming, fixing, and posting.
I didn't need materials or equipment. I just had to set up my smartphone.
I get a reaction on the spot.
I can tell what hits and what doesn't within that day.
From there, "for 100 days, without missing a single day,"
I did Instagram Lives.
I started talking to a screen with no one there.
At first, truly no one came.
0 viewers. 0 comments.
Only the sound of my own voice falling into the room.
I think there were more than 90 days out of the 100 when I thought, "Maybe I'll stop today."
Even when I had a fever, even when my children got sick,
even when I had to undergo emergency surgery, I continued.
Even when trolls came,
even when I was ridiculed by peers,
I didn't quit.
My Instagram was shadowbanned and I was forced into account suspension.
Performance-based rewards were not paid by business partners.
There were only things that didn't go well.
I was even blocked and ghosted by the organizer of a community I had invested in for consulting.
Every time,
"Keep believing in yourself and keep going; if you abandon yourself, nothing will remain."
The first thing I did was just not quit.
I just turned on my smartphone and did Instagram Lives.
Then, someone appeared who said to me,
"I want you to teach me how to do Instagram Live."
And I gained dear friends.
As I continued, the number of people who supported and sustained me increased.
That's why I want to tell you:
Please don't give up easily.
Believe in yourself and face your life.
I want you to know that opportunities are infinite.
Please cherish your family.
I want you to feel that happiness is always by your side.
Please don't take the easy way out.
If you want to change your reality now
- You want to increase your income streams
- You have small children and can't take large blocks of time
- You want to increase your income but don't know how
- It's painful to ride the crowded train every day
- You feel there is something you truly want to do
- You want to show filial piety to your parents but don't have the leeway
If you think this, meeting me is inevitable.
Let's stop running away from reality by blaming money or the environment.
When my husband fell ill, I couldn't blame anyone.
Was it the country's fault?
The company's fault?
COVID's fault?
Was it because my employment was as a kindergarten teacher?
Even if you blame someone, your life won't change one millimeter.
I just didn't run away from my reality.
I didn't blame my low income on my education, environment, family, or boss.
I just decided to grab it with my own hands.
I am truly grateful to the students, influencers, and spiritual YouTubers who request work from me.
Undoubtedly, I couldn't have come this far in just four years alone.
However, at the same time, I saw many people quitting.
Mostly, they were blaming others, the environment, lack of money, or lack of time.
I don't want anyone to blame anyone else anymore.
It is undoubtedly the path you chose and the reality you chose.
That's why I want to tell you.
Life can be changed.
"Reality changes" exactly as you think it will.
The trigger to seriously change your life is here:
https://utage-system.com/line/open/kVVp89lnbKa5?mtid=DNs9phnmOfRQ
You can do it too.
Thank you for reading to the end ♡
Note: The results in this article are individual results and do not guarantee success. Also, the progress of symptoms varies greatly from person to person and is not intended as medical advice. If you are concerned about your physical condition, please consult a medical institution.
