Part 10 (2/2)
As soon as she heard his answer, Kiyomi's heart leapt. She let out a yell and pressed a hand to her chest.
”...something wrong?”
He looked doubtfully into her face.
”No...it's nothing.”
She forced a smile and clung to her chest.
What was that? Kiyomi focused her attention on her body's interior. All she could sense was her own heartbeat. The odd, single thump had come and gone.
She turned her head a little to the side and thought to herself, Maybe I'm just a little drunk is all, then smiled again to ease his concern.
”Really, I'm fine. Please, continue.”
The young man seemed unconvinced, but soon he was telling her all about his research.
”Mitochondria are usually mentioned briefly in junior high and high school textbooks, so you've probably heard of them before. Basically, they're necessary components of cells that create energy.”
”Yeah, I know that much.”
”When fats and sugars are drawn into the cell, they undergo a conversion process and are changed into acetyl-CoA in mitochondria. There, the 'citric acid cycle' leads to the formation of adenosine triphosphate, or ATP. It's this ATP that the body uses in various ways as energy.”
”I understand...1 think,” Kiyomi said, nodding slightly. She had apparently retained more than she thought.
”My research focuses on why such a conversion occurs in mitochondria in the first place. The process requires a lot of enzymes, and mitochondria are packed with them. Here we run into a problem. We're usually taught that only the nuclei of cells contain genes, but you might be surprised to know that mitochondria also have their own DNA, though it's a very small amount in comparison. But this genetic material doesn't have the info for the enzymes necessary to convert fats and sugars. The genes only code enzymes for the electron transport system needed for making ATP, and just some of those enzymes at that. So where are the genes for the conversion enzymes? They're all in the nucleus. In other words, the nucleus controls the production of enzymes. When the nucleus needs energy, it sends out a command. The more enzymes you have, the more conversions you get. Now, enzymes are usually produced by ribosomes in the cytosol, after which they must find their way into the mitochondria. But how do they get inside at all? Since enzymes are proteins, they can't just pa.s.s through the fatty mitochondrial membrane. Also, how does the nucleus know it needs energy? How does it signal that enzymes have to be produced? And stepping back for the big picture, how does the nucleus control mitochondria anyway? Mitochondria must have originally carried the genes for the enzymes. How did the nucleus just pull those mitochondrial genes into itself? It's so mysterious. At least, I think so.”
Kiyomi was completely overwhelmed. She had known what mitochondria were, but she'd never had any reason to think about them so extensively. They were certainly mysterious, as he had said. She was now aware of just how much was still unknown about our biology and that there were people actually trying to bring clarity to all of this.
Thinking he may have been too long-winded, the young man smiled wryly and ended there. He then looked at the gla.s.s in her hands and reciprocated her earlier favor by pouring some beer into it. There was only a little left in the bottle, so he dumped the rest into his own gla.s.s.
”So, what's your name?”
”Kiyomi Kataoka.”
”Well, Kiyomi, pleasure to meet you. My name's Tos.h.i.+aki Nagas.h.i.+ma.”
They both smiled and lifted their gla.s.ses to drink up.
9.
As Anzai walked out of the room, he looked at his daughter once more.
”I'll be back...I'm just going to talk with the doctor for a little while.”
Mariko was turned the other way, her mouth shut tightly in defiance. Anzai understood from her body language that she wanted nothing to do with him. He cast a glance at the floor and left.
While walking along the white hallway which ran straight through the ward, he thought about the operation.
Ten days now, and still Mariko was making no efforts to talk to him, nor to anyone else for that matter. The only time she spoke was when they were checking up on her, and even then she answered only bluntly and without eye contact.
Apparently she had had another bad dream the night before. Her loud screams had been audible even in the hallway. The nurse a.s.signed to her that night tried to shake her out of it, but Mariko appeared lost between dream and reality. Despite all of this, when Yos.h.i.+zumi asked if anything was wrong, she said nothing and turned away as always.
Before he knew it, Anzai was in the lobby. He pressed the down b.u.t.ton and waited for the elevator to arrive.
He had spoken to Yos.h.i.+zumi many times throughout this entire ordeal. They inevitably talked mostly about Mariko's practically autistic behavior.
Yos.h.i.+zumi made it clear he was having a very difficult time with her and complained of the indifference that had been absent in the little girl he had treated two years ago.
No matter how much he tried, Anzai could not figure out why she was shutting herself off from everyone.
The doors opened in front of him. Anzai entered the elevator without paying much attention and pressed the b.u.t.ton for the first floor. The doors closed, followed by a gentle sensation of decent. The ventilation fan hummed quietly above his head.
When first informed of his daughter's renal insufficiency, Anzai knew nothing about the condition. It was the winter of her fourth-grade year. When Mariko was wheeled out from the waiting room, the attending physician had a pitiful look in his eyes and gave Anzai the bad news.
”To put it more technically, she is suffering from glomerular nephritis. In your daughter's case, the inflammation has been progressing slowly for some time now. As it is, her urinary lining has become compacted. If we don't act soon, her kidney will malfunction, blocking her urinary production altogether. Please take a look at this data. We tested her glomerular filtration rate, abbreviated here on the chart as GFR, and blood urea nitrogen levels, BUN. From this information, we were able to make a fairly confident diagnosis. She is already starting to show some common signs, such as swelling, breathing abnormalities, and nervousness.”
Frightened, Anzai fell silent, then said, ”Is there a cine?”
”I'm sorry, but no.” He was unnerved by the doctor's sudden bluntness. ”There is currently no established cure for chronic renal failure. Medications and surgery are no use.
The cells themselves just stop working.”
”So, what should we do?”
”The only option right now is dialysis treatment. People like her actually get along fairly well with it. We just hook up a machine that does the work of the kidneys, expelling used-up matter from the body. I will set you up with the best dialysis treatment center in the area. They've handled plenty of cases, so you'll be in good hands.”
Anzai hardly noticed when the elevator reached the first floor. He got off and went into the lobby. The air conditioning was overpowered by hot air coming from the entranceway.
He wiped the perspiration from the back of his neck and crossed over to the building where Yos.h.i.+zumi's office was located.
Anzai lamented the fact that he and Mariko had hardly talked at all these past few years. His time was currently consumed with product development, and he felt that his work was vital. He would be pus.h.i.+ng into his fifties this year. At any rate, if he didn't work there, he'd have achieved nothing in his life.
In truth, his lack of interaction with Mariko was not a recent development. It had been this way ever since he joined the company. Work was really his only occupation. That was not to say he never found the time to marry, though he hardly ever opened up much to women. He met his future wife when he was 33. Even after they were wed and Mariko was born, Anzai never made an effort to come home early. On most Sundays, too, he was out on business and hardly spent any time with his wife and daughter.
Immediately after buying their first house, his wife died of an illness, leaving their large two-floor house as a monument to loneliness. Mariko came to spend much of her time alone.
She was usually in bed by the time he got back. After waking her up in the mornings, he would rush off to the bus stop. Her affliction had therefore gone unnoticed much longer than it should have.
The hospital was well-accommodated with dialysis equipment of all kinds. Anzai stared in wonder when he and Mariko were first shown through the facilities. There were at least fifty beds spread out in a large room, nearly all of which were occupied with patients.
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