Funeral Arrangements Set

We've finalized the details for my dad's funeral. It took a while because of we had to consult a fortune teller to see if it was a good day for the family, plus check on availability for the funeral home. Some of the dates were not available.

Here are the details:


Friday, May 25, 2007
11:30 a.m. Service
Huai En Ting (Hall)
Second Taipei City Mortuary
#330 Xing Hai Lu, Section 3
Taipei, Taiwan

Our plan is to have a funeral service in Taipei and have his remains cremated. In June, we plan on bringing my father's ashes to the San Francisco Bay Area where we hope to hold an additional service for him before burial. My dad had wished to be buried near his mother at Skylawn Cemetery.

I had thought about bringing him to Shanghai prior to San Francisco, as it was his new home and he has many friends there. I know he had wanted to return to Shanghai as well. However the logistics of doing this may be difficult. Just preparing the paperwork for bringing him back to the U.S. is an ordeal. I never realized how much distrust the American government has, even for its own citizens - as we have to prove that we are his relatives, prepare documents in English, prepare customs documents, etc.

Thanks everyone for your thoughts, prayers and phone calls. Your support has helped the family and my mom, especially, through these difficult times.

Fang Xin

Last night, the hospital staff ran an X-ray to see if my dad had pneumonia. My dad's breathing has gotten heavier and it sounded like there was some congestion in his chest.

My aunts had a hard time because they were leaving. This would be their last time seeing my dad. They tried really hard not to cry in front of him.

My second aunt from San Jose helped me meet with several funeral services today. My Chinese isn't good enough to do it alone and my mom was in no shape at all. So my aunt and I took up the responsibility. We had heard that if we didn't plan, the funeral service companies would jack up the prices because they know that you're in a vulnerable position.

My aunt was fierce - always asking questions, inquiring about the need for this and that, verifying if what one representative's claim was true or not. In the end, we agreed that this company Eilin, was the best. The representative, Mr. Zhang, didn't seem shady and was very respectful of our situation.

This took nearly 3 hours to meet with 3 representatives. Meanwhile, my mom, sister, girlfriend and first aunt were in keeping my dad company. He was too weak to talk, and would respond with nods or the occasional, "Ugh."

My uncle - my mom's brother - and my aunt arrived in the afternoon as well to see my dad for the last time. My dad was very grateful of my uncle for helping get my dad into Tai Da Hospital and getting an appointment with a reputable liver doctor.

After my relatives left, my dad's condition seemed to stabilize. The nurses had earlier administered 2 bags of blood plasma and one I.V. bag of human albumin, which I believe was for the lung infection. He was now peeing and he would respond to what we were saying.

Once, he became frustrated and pulled off his oxygen mask. Then he started mumbling something not discernable. He became even more frustrated when we kept asking him to repeat what he said. We all tried to comfort him and calmed him down. That was difficult to go through.

At around 10 p.m., we were all exhausted. My girlfriend and my mom fell asleep on the couch. I fell asleep around 11 sitting in a chair; I was trying to write this blog, but it ended up being the letter, "k," repeating for several pages. My sister had the first shift to watch dad and monitor his condition.

At 12:40 a.m., I woke up to the nurse talking to my sister. She was explaining that my dad had lost his blood pressure and he would soon pass. I hurried over beside him. I brushed his forehead and looked him in the eyes. His heart was still beating and he was still breathing.

Earlier, my uncle and my second aunt both told me, "You need to tell your dad not to worry about your mom, that you and your sister will take care of her." Or, "Tell your dad that he'll be in a safe place."

My sister and I both told him those things, but he already knew we would.

Earlier in the day, I asked my dad if he thought about my grandmother. He nodded. I asked if he thought about my grandfather. He shook his head.

A few months ago, my dad recalled when grandma was nearing the end of her life. He had just arrived from Shanghai and I was taking him to see her. In the car, I told him he should thank her for sacrificing everything and bringing the family to Taiwan.

At first, he was reluctant, saying that she knew. But the minute he walked up to her, he broke into tears and thanked her. She hugged him and patted him on the back. My dad said that he will never forget that moment and he thanked me for telling him to say that.

Sitting there next to him, my sister said, "Fang xin, Pa. Wuo men hui kan hao Mommy."

"Fang xin," I added. "Ni ke-yi kan Nai-Nai. Ni ke-yi gen ta yiqi." (You can see grandma. You can be with her.)

No more than a second later, his breathing ceased.

We kissed him on the forehead. The doctor came in and pronounced my father's death at Thursday, May 17, 1:01 a.m.

It's A Roller Coaster

Jeff here.

It's been kind of scary these past few days. This has been a roller coaster ride for me and my family, as my father's condition has worsened.

On Friday, the day I arrived, the doctor of internal medicine on the floor motioned me and my mother outside. He said that he didn't have much time left, maybe 3 months. Because of the poor condition of his liver, his kidneys were being impacted. The level of ammonia in his blood is rising and as a result, he's tired and seems sleepy.

The doctor asked if there was anywhere he wanted to go. We told them Shanghai, but we all knew that it wouldn't be possible in his condition. There wasn't anywhere in Taiwan that he wanted to go to, that's for sure.

After speaking to the doctor, I went back into the room and my dad asked me if it was bad news. I tried not to lie. I told him, "No, but you have to really fight hard now."

He looked at me long and hard with these eyes that said, I'm tired. I don't have any more fight left.

At this point, the tears started welling up in my eyes. I hugged my dad. He started crying too, saying, "Wei shen-me Liu jia nan-de you zhege ming?"

Roughly translated, "Why do the men of the Liu family have such fates?"

He was referring to his younger brother who passed away from a preventable illness in his late teens/early twenties and his older brother who passed away from liver cancer about five years ago.

On Monday, the doctors told my aunts that my dad had a day or two left. He would be sleeping more and more, they said. I knew that he didn't have 3 months, but we all couldn't believe that it would be so fast.

That night, I asked my dad about the songs the Communists sang when they marched into Shanghai. He once told me that as a little boy, he remembered all these people singing these simple tunes, filling the streets with song. He couldn't remember, but he looked at me and said, "Zhen-me jian dan de ge."

My aunts were too young to remember. But our attention quickly turned to the television as we looked for some variety shows so that he could sing along to. His eyes were fixed on the screen as a performer sang an old song in Chinese. My aunts were singing along too.

Then out of nowhere, my mom started laughing. She said, "Wow, do that again! Only me and (the caregiver) saw you. Let everyone see."

We all looked at my dad and were like, "What? Show us."

After a few seconds, he smiled and wiggled his shoulders as if he were dancing. We all had a good laugh.

On Tuesday morning, I went to go pick up my girlfriend from the airport. My dad kept asking to see if she was coming. I was kind of surprised that he asked that, but realized that it was probably his way of saying, "Hurry up and get married."

When we got to the hospital, the doctors had given him an oxygen mask because his blood-oxygen level had been dropping, but it didn't elevate it enough. They gave him another one capable of more pressure.

Seeing him breathing in the mask reminded me of watching my grandmother in her final days with lung cancer. My dad is uncomfortable from all the heavy laxatives, the diaper rash, the oxygen mask, the feeding tube, and not being able to eat or drink like a normal person. Seeing him go through this day and night has been truly, truly heartbreaking for all of us.

On the other hand, when we ask him if he's feeling pain anywhere, he says no. He always seems to be listening, he always wakes up when the cute nurses arrive (really!) and he manages to crack a joke every once in a while. Moments like these, like my sister mentioned, have been precious.

All we're hoping for now is that he not suffer anymore than he already has. Please wish this to be true as well.

Mother's Day with Dad

The aunties arrived Saturday night and came to the hospital early Sunday morning. Luckily my dad has a single room because that morning there were about six of us there. My two aunts, my mom, brother, myself, and the caregiver. It was a pretty full room.

All the emotion that morning really hit me and I started breaking down in tears. I thought my dad was sleeping because he had just gone to the bathroom and was exhausted. But he heard me blow my nose, pulled me over and hugged me. He told me, "I Love You."

As much as my mom didn't want me to cry, I think it was good to have that moment with my father.

Half an hour later, my uncle (married to the aunt from Toronto) and his younger brother came to visit. All the action in the room made him feel really happy. He loves being the center of attention, and in the middle of the excitement. You couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

The doctors prescribed him a laxative to help him go poo. The night before, my brother and the caregiver had to get up 3-4 times to help clean him up after going. They had a busy night and were completely exhausted when the aunties arrived. The doctors decided to stop administering the laxative before bed so he wouldn't be up all night.

My dad's bottom is pretty raw from laying on his back all day and going to the bathroom on diapers. He hasn't had the energy the past week to go to the bathroom on his own. They've tried to use talcum powder and liquid spray bandages to try and help his bottom have time to dry and maybe develop a scab or something to protect it from each time he goes to the bathroom.

I feel that a couple of the things my dad really enjoys is being able to eat whatever he wanted, when he wanted, and being able to go poo in less than five minutes. It's something that he and I have in common. And it was something that we talked about in the house rather freely. Whether we went that day, how fast, the sound, we got into some pretty gruesome details.

Unfortunately, now when he goes poo, he has to prepare for the stinging pain of washing his raw bottom. Since he's on a laxative, he can't control when he goes, which is pretty frequent. Every time my dad went poo that day, my mom and the caregiver would clean him up and dry him off. As soon as they were finished or were about to finish, he would start going poo again.

He went about 3-4 times each round with about 3-4 rounds a day. That day, he had to endure being washed about 12 times. They try to wait until the round is over before washing him, but it didn't always work.

Some good news is that my dad's mouth is recovering. His lips have developed scabs and they're not as raw as before. We think that he might be fully healed in the next couple of days so he can eat real food.

His mouth has been really dry because he hasn't been eating or drinking. With the feeding tube, food goes straight into his stomach. But it's dry mostly because he's breathing through his mouth. We tried using giant cotton swabs so that he could suck out the water, but the swabs were so big that they would rub against the healing sores on his lips and cause his lips to bleed again.

We then tried spoon-feeding him water, but he would still choke a little from it. I took a peek at the inside of his mouth and his tongue was so dry that I thought spoon feeding wasn't helping the overall dryness he felt in his mouth.

Jeff and I came up with the idea of spraying water into his mouth. He still chokes on the water a bit, but the caregiver says it's because he doesn't have enough to swallow. We know it works because when we ask him if he wants us to spray into his mouth, he wakes up and responds with a very clear Yao! And with the spray, it gets better coverage over the inside of his mouth.

We celebrated Mother's Day a little in the hospital. Jeff bought flowers for everyone, including the aunties and me, and we bought a cake for our caregiver.


We all know that dad misses the taste of food, so someone came up with the idea that we should let him smell Jeff's Hey Song sarsparilla while spraying water into his mouth. My dad opened his eyes so wide and fast, he also tried to grab the soda out of my aunt's hands. With that we thought that giving him some soda might cheer him up.

He was so excited with the taste of something other than water, he was cherishing each taste. We asked him how the soda tasted and he replied with a very strong, "Dang ren hao" (of course it's good).

I think that as much as we all try to make him smile and laugh, our mood is really dictated by his responses. And when we end the day with a big smile from him, those of us that leave the hospital leave feeling that at least there's a chance that he'll still be happy when we come back the next day.

Laura Arrives in Taipei

My flight arrived on Friday at 10 p.m. Since my flight arrived so late, my mom picked me up and we went back to the apartment to rest. The next morning we went straight to the hospital to visit dad. Jeff was already there, having arrived at 6 a.m. the day before.

I arrived prepared not to cry. My mom kept telling me that I'm not supposed to show my dad how upset I am. I had seen a picture of him in his hospital bed so I had an idea of what to prepare for. When I got there and saw how his mouth was covered in ointment to prevent it from bleeding, I nearly broke down. He also had what looks like little red dots everywhere on his hands, arms and feet that are similar to bruises, but some are scabbed because fluid broke through his skin from the swelling he's been experiencing.

He was awake for about 1 minute after I arrived. Just long enough for a big smile and then he dozed off. Apparently, he was exhausted from Jeff's visit the day before. We kept trying to wake him up to go out into the garden, but his eyes would just roll back and he'd fall asleep again.

Jeff went home because he had spent all of yesterday and last night with dad. My mom and I pretty much sat around most of the morning. I spent most of it rubbing his belly trying to help his digestion.

Dad's days are no longer dictated by the types of food he gets to eat anymore. It's all about whether or not he can go to the bathroom, both #1 and #2...but mostly #2.

He's had high levels of ammonia in his blood, which if he doesn't go to the bathroom, is bad. Going to the bathroom basically helps get rid of all the toxins in his body. When he's not able to do either, he spends the day sleeping. So, I was determined to help him pass whatever was in his system so that he could spend the day talking to me as well.

My parents hired a caregiver who helps out a lot - from talking to him, cleaning after him, picking him up. This morning she told us that my dad has been coughing every time he eats. Since he's so delicate with the bruising and bleeding, the doctors thought it would be best to feed him through a tube. They're worried that his choking on his food might cause fluid to go into his lungs, which would cause another problem that we'd all rather avoid.

Watching someone put a tube up my dad's nose to go down into the stomach was pretty hard. Especially since he wasn't really aware of what was going on. The nurses explained it to him, but I think he was half asleep, not quite grasping what was happening.

After the tube was in place, they fed him a nutritional drink, Prosure (sorta like Ensure). Then they ground up his medication and mixed it with water and fed that to him as well.

I'm not sure whether he can eat solid foods again. At least not until his condition improves.

Leaving for Taipei

My dad is now hospitalized at Tai Da. After a day or so in the emergency room last month, he was admitted into the hospital, where it was more peaceful and he had better care. Our cancer doctor was checking on him now and ran some tests on him.

A few weeks ago, he seemed tired but OK. He told me they drained 1000 cc of fluid from his belly. The fluid was slightly red, indicating the presence of blood. I think the doctors were afraid that once they drained the fluid, that he would start bleeding profusely (the pressure from the fluid was preventing any heavy bleeding).

Well, that didn't happen. He felt much better and immediately wanted to eat, which was good.

Since then, my mom has had to carefully measure his intake and outtake of any fluids in his body. Late last week, my mom hired a nurse to take over some of the care needed for my dad now. He needs assistance to get up out of the bed and to the bathroom, especially in the middle of the night.

These past few weeks have been very difficult for her. Physically, it has been draining. She's been getting up and going to the hospital every day at 8 a.m. and doesn't leave until about 8 p.m. Emotionally, I think she feels isolated.

Yesterday, I spoke with her and my dad. My dad sounded OK, but his lips have been peeling and his mouth had sores, a side-effect of his medication. My mom asked me when I was coming and I told her that I booked my ticket for the 15th of May.

But tonight, my sister called me and said that my mom wanted us to go immediately. It was all very vague, partly because my mom was crying. So I called my mom and this is what she said:

"Jeff you better come right now. The doctor keeps asking when you and Laura are going to come. He says that it's best that you come now, while he's still able to recognize you."

I was shocked. I just spoke to him yesterday and he seemed fine. But my mom said that he's not eating now because of the open sores in his mouth and cracked lips. I spoke to my dad briefly, but I could hardly understand him. His voice was weak and it seemed like his lips were hardly moving.

The doctor took him off the chemotherapy drugs, so they'll see what happens. But I called my boss immediately after to let her know that I'd be leaving for Taiwan, tomorrow night.