Upon entering the ward, COVID-19 screening is conducted. A swab is inserted into the nose. Negative.
Descend to the first floor for an X-ray examination and 24-hour electrocardiogram monitoring.

16:30 Take a shower and undergo physical measurements. Blood pressure: 171/101. Both are not good. Pulse rate: 40. Body temperature: 36.4 degrees.
Apply a blood pressure-lowering patch to the chest.
6:00 p.m. Dinner. Left a little.
Lay down in bed and listened to the following self-recorded readings on the website via my smartphone. Part of “The Dog Year, 2018" (Journal No. 118), "New Year's Day” (Journal No. 109) and “Morocco Travelogue 2010” (Journal No. 59).
Then watched TV and listened to the radio.
10:00 p.m. Go to bed.

12:00 Drip-feed attached. Urinary catheter (pre-surgery procedure, insertion was painful!).
Skipped lunch.
17:00 Pacemaker implantation surgery.
Moved to another bed and went to the operating room on the first floor. It's finally time.
After local anesthesia, the incision was made at the left shoulder. About 5-centimeter incision was made. Even with anesthesia, it was painful. Additional anesthesia was administered.
The surgery was performed by Dr. Odagiri and a team of several members. They worked continuously, communicating with each other throughout the procedure. In order to ensure the pacemaker was implanted properly, the area was firmly pressed repeatedly. That was painful. I had to endure it. I could only pray for success.
7:00 p.m. The surgery is over.

Decline dinner.
I fall asleep while listening to the radio.
Perhaps because the painkillers from the surgery are still working, I don't feel much pain.

As yesterday, a urinary catheter was inserted before surgery. Painful.
6:00 p.m. Reoperation began.
After local anesthesia, the incision was reopened. The pain returned. Dr. Odagiri, the surgeon, and his team's voices echoed through the room. As with yesterday's surgery, the anesthesia was increased, but the pain returned when the pacemaker was reinserted. I endured it. It took a long time. It seems to have gone smoothly. 7:30 p.m.
"Thank you, Dr. Odagiri and everyone." I expressed my gratitude aloud, hoping it goes well this time.

After returning to the room, there was almost no pain in the left shoulder implant site, and I did not take any pain medication this time either. I rested quietly and went to sleep.

7:30 AM: The urinary catheter was removed. The urine was pinkish at first, as it was yesterday, but there is no cause for concern.
Body temperature: 37 degrees. Pulse: 60 (as set).
9:40 X-ray examination.

I am listening to my own readings while flipping through various parts of “Miscellaneous Notes” and “Short Stories.”
In Short Story Collection No. 50, “Those Days When the Cherry Blossoms Fell (Fragment),” I was reminded of myself at that time. It was around 1959 when I failed the university entrance exam. It was only about a year until I was admitted to the Sociology Department of Hitotsubashi University the following year, but looking back, there were various things that happened. 　
Having narrowed my university choices only to the English and American Studies Department at Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, I had given up on math and science. To avoid repeating the exam any more, I had to consider applying to other schools, which meant studying those subjects as well. Plus, there was English dictation preparation, and so on. It seems like a lot of trouble, but it was quite a struggle.

I had been eagerly awaiting news of yesterday's surgery success, but there was no word. Today, I gave up.

Listen to “My Old Documents,” the 13th episode of the notebook. It brings me back to the memories.
This was created during my time working in the General Affairs Department at Tsukiji Factory in Nagoya's Port District after joining Daido Steel. One of them was an English-to-Japanese translation titled “Employee Absenteeism.” Mr. Y, the General Affairs Manager, returned from a seminar and handed me an English booklet, saying, “I'm sure you can translate this,” and ordered me to do so.
For the next week, I stayed up late in my dorm room, focused on the task. This is the result. The original English text has been lost, but I recall it being a clear and straightforward piece. (Translation reading: 1 hour 9 minutes)
Mr. Y carefully reviewed my translation, made a few corrections in red ink, then called the printer and requested 100 copies in B5 format. Once completed, they were distributed to supervisors of the factory site and the office for use in on-the-job training. The smug expression on Mr. Y's face at the time.
There such a time.

For several years now, the crossword puzzle in the morning edition of the Sunday newspaper has been my friend. I struggle with it for about two hours, quating an electronic dictionary and the internet. I have managed to solve almost all of them.
So, this morning, I waited for the stand to open and went down to the first floor. With my current hospital stay, my smartphone has been a strong ally. By switching to voice mode and asking questions aloud about parts I didn't understand, I received some hints in return.
Thanks to that, I was able to finish in just under two hours.

Last night's temperature reading was 37.5 degrees. Though advised to use an ice pack, I declined. At that time, due to suspicion of COVID-19 infection, a swab was inserted into my nasal cavity again. This morning, the nurse in charge informed me that the result was negative.

7:30 AM Blood pressure: 145/77. Pulse: 66. Temperature: 36.6 degrees. Taking a blood sample.
2:30 p.m. Accompanied by a caregiver, I was taken to the first floor in a wheelchair for an X-ray and electrocardiogram.
In the evening, Dr. Yamamoto, the assistant, removed the protective tape from the pacemaker implantation site.
The drip-feed will continue until discharge.
Blood pressure remains high. 160, and even after rechecking, 151.
Frequent urination at night is a hassle. I have to go to the bathroom every two hours.
The drip-feed line is annoying at night. But it's only for tonight and the next two days.
Constipation has resolved.

9:30 AM: Shampoo and shower. Feels great!!
10:00 AM: Sutures removed from the pacemaker implantation site.

Enjoyed listening to a reading of “Early Summer in Kyoto for a Week, 2017,” a trip our couple took four years ago. It's a lengthy piece lasting about two hours. As I listened, memories I had almost forgotten began to resurface one by one.
Since turning 60, I have been translating travel essays about domestic scenic spots visited with my wife into English, aiming to introduce Japan's culture and landscapes to the world, and publishing them in the “English Edition” square. This Kyoto trip. If it were translated into English, it could occupy a corner of the square as a major historical site of Japan. Even a rough translation would surely attract the interest of foreigners. Such thoughts cross my mind, but it is too late now. The decline in my abilities cannot compensate for my enthusiasm. It is truly regrettable. With such feelings lingering, I casually browse through the “English Edition” square on my smartphone's small screen, and then, look and behold!

I was surprised. I had managed to do it all back then. Reading time: 2 hours and 37 minutes.
Taking breaks, I enjoyed reading the English text aloud until evening.

Princess Mako and Mr. Kei Komuro got married. Every TV channel was at its best.

Today is “Persimmon Day.” 　It is said to be based on the day when Shiki Masaoka composed the poem, “When I eat a persimmon, the bell rings at Horyuji Temple (柿くへば鐘が鳴るなり法隆寺).” In Chapter 4 of this essay, I decided to include a short piece titled “Persimmons. My favorite food” about Shiki and persimmons.

My pulse, blood pressure, and temperature are all within normal ranges. I am confident that I will be discharged tomorrow.
7:00 a.m. I open the window and look down. The people walking below are not carrying umbrellas. The sky is cloudy, as forecast.
9:30 a.m. X-ray and electrocardiogram.
10:30 a.m. Pacemaker implantation site examination. Dr. Odagiri informs me that a certificate allowing me to undergo an MRI will be sent by registered mail in one month.

I call my wife on my smartphone to tell her I will be discharged at 10 a.m. tomorrow and ask her to come to the designated location at the hospital.

Today, I listen to Chapter 3, “Married Life,” of my self-written novel “The Life of a Seafarer” (my father's life), which I started listening to last night.
Kyozou, lying in bed with his wife's head on his arm as a pillow, recounts memories of the South Pacific Arafura Sea where he worked for 17 years. Tonight's segment features coral reefs and various creatures in the deep sea.
After this chapter ends, I switch to the radio. The theme is some event from the early Showa period. Coincidentally, it is the same period that Kyozou is talking about in the novel. At the end of the program, Hamako Watanabe's song “Chinatown in San Francisco” is played. Even after the program ended, I remained in a melancholy mood for a while.

At 10:00 AM, met my wife at the 5th-floor lounge in Building B. It's been a while!
Settled the bill on the 1st floor. Everything is finally over.

The hospital is just a 5-minute walk from home. I walked slowly, happy to be returning home. May the days ahead be smooth and trouble-free.