CHAPTER 34

Original (Published in "Lun's World"): 2005-11-04

Rewritten: 2025-10-20

A week before I was hospitalized for surgery, Lun’s emotions fluctuated greatly. Upon learning of this, our social worker immediately arranged a contingency plan so that I could undergo treatment and recuperate at home with peace of mind.

In mid-2005, I was diagnosed with primary liver cancer (unrelated to my gallbladder cancer from 2000) and scheduled for surgery at the end of September. A thought crossed my mind: if, after the surgery, I were to fall into a coma, as long as Lun were by my side calling to me, I should be able to wake up. When I told my wife this, she didn’t scold me for saying something ominous — she simply treated it as a lighthearted remark and nodded in agreement.

Lun’s midnight calls have always been able to wake both of us. Through countless repetitions, this has become a conditioned reflex — one that has never failed.

This time, I wasn’t worried that Lun would be left without care. The Community Living BC had already agreed to arrange for Lun’s admission into a long-term residential facility and had been looking for a placement for over six months.

The social worker, a kind and compassionate man, worked diligently and thoughtfully. Having previously served in the Ministry of Child and Family Development (MCFD) and followed Lun’s case, he understood our family’s situation well and had helped us through many difficult times.

Therefore, even if something unexpected were to happen during the surgery, Lun’s future care had already been arranged. My wife and younger son could focus on adapting to a new life. Compared to four years ago, I felt much more at ease. In fact, for most parents of special-needs children, their lifelong worry is who will take care of their child after they’re gone.

Birth, aging, illness, and death are part of life and unavoidable. Parents who have long cared for special-needs children often develop chronic illnesses due to years of emotional and physical strain. In some families, one parent must stay home to care for the child and cannot work, worsening financial pressures.

Physically, mentally, and health-wise, I was already overdrawn; my wife too was at the breaking point. We couldn’t go on like this indefinitely. While we were still clear-minded and capable of making wise decisions, we needed to plan early for Lun’s future.

Having made proper arrangements, I could finally feel at peace.

A week before the operation, Lun suddenly experienced severe emotional instability — restless and unable to eat or sleep. I couldn’t manage it, so I called the emergency line at the MCFD. They advised: (1) take Lun to see a doctor; and (2) consult his case social worker.

The family doctor prescribed a sedative, which eased Lun’s agitation. Before the social worker went on extended leave, I managed to reach him. After understanding the situation, he immediately drafted a contingency plan and applied for emergency funding, which was approved. Should Lun’s emotions spiral out of control, we could notify his supervisor, and within twenty-four hours Lun would be placed in temporary residential care — fully managed by the provincial government — later to be transferred to a long-term facility.

Thanks to this plan, my family and I could focus on my treatment and recovery during that critical period. Fortunately, Lun’s emotions soon stabilized, and we didn’t need to use the emergency housing service. I was able to sleep peacefully.

Lun officially moved into his residential home five months later.