Adelia Dung hugs daughter Alana.
Photo by Alvin Chung, special to the Star-Bulletin

"I already feel grateful and blessed in many ways," she said. "It's all coming together - Alana finding a donor and being (at the Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center) where everyone is so professional.

"All I want now is for her to continue to do well. I think we're all cautiously optimistic at this point."

Much of the support Alana has received, starting with a bone-marrow donor drive in Hawaii that registered more than 30,000 people in less than two months, is rooted in the character of Adelia and her husband, Stephen, who have passed on their beliefs to their ailing daughter.

A cleaning woman at the Hutchinson Center, for example, recently bought two dolls for Alana. "She did it," Alana's grandfather Tai Yau Chung said, "because Adelia told Alana to say hi to her when she came to clean the room.

"The woman said in all the years she has been working here, nobody ever did something like that for her," Chung added. "Somebody else made a Barney the Dinosaur blanket for Alana and sent it here because she read in the paper that Alana liked Barney.

"These are people we've never met, and that kind of support is not only heartwarming but it gives you strength," he said. Chung heads Chung Insurance and Investment Group with his daughter.

His son, Alvin, is a Kahala dentist.

All three have put their careers on hold to help Alana and her family.

"My priority is to be here for my family," Alvin Chung said. "I can always return to my practice later. Fortunately, my patients have been understanding.

"Maybe it's Alana's purpose in life to bring our family and people together.

"One of my patients and also a co-worker of a cousin have been identified as preliminary matches and another cousin from San Francisco is already a perfect match," he said.

Having family here has allowed Alana's parents to get some rest. Norah Chung, Alana's grandmother, is usually at the hospital from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.

"No one else can comfort Alana like my mom," Alvin Chung said. "She kind of sings to her and asks her who is popo's (Chinese for grandmother) darling," and Alana will say "Lana."

Stephen and Adelia Dung have been going home to a condominium at about 3 p.m. to rest for five hours before returning to the hospital.

"We've learned that we have to take care of ourselves if we want to take care of Alana," Adelia said.

"I've learned to nap three hours in the afternoon and two hours at night."

When they leave the hospital, the Dungs try to spend time with their 6-year-old son, Spencer, who is being cared for by the family's longtime baby sitter S.Y. Lum.

"I know it's hard, but their other child needs attention too," Alvin Chung said.

Alana Dung, 2, plays with a hospital telephone.
She is scheduled for a bone-marrow transplant in Seattle tomorrow.
Photo by Alvin Chung, special to the Star-Bulletin

Although it is painless, total body irradiation can be a scary experience, especially for a 2-year-old, because no one else can be present. For the first time since being diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia in April, Alana's parents, Stephen and Adelia Dung, have not been there to hold her hand.

With the help of Lisa Lange, a child-life specialist, Alana will conclude four days of pre-transplant preparation treatments today without tears or fears.

"Part of our job is to make kids comfortable with procedure," Lange said. "We told her (last Friday, the day before Alana's first treatment) that she would be going to a special room and she could bring Barney (the Dinosaur) with her.

"They had to take measurements of her body so we let Barney go first," Lange said. "Alana told us Barney said it didn't hurt and she's been doing fine since."

It may be sugar-coated, but Lange is honest with young patients.

"As long as you're honest, they'll trust you," Lange said. "With very young children, you'll find that they've either regressed back or are very mature because of their medical experience. Alana's parents have done an excellent job of explaining things to her, so she's knows what is happening."

Another aspect of Lange's job is to provide Alana and nine other young children on her floor with a normal atmosphere. She does it with weekly themes for staff.

"During color week, we may have a blue-sock day," she said. "It not only pulls the staff together but kids notice things - like if everyone shows up to work in baseball caps. It wouldn't work in an adult unit, but children breathe life.

"We do it to minimize the hospital setting," she added. "If a child is playing and is happy, it becomes a less stressful experience for them and their parents."

Alana's 6-year-old brother, Spencer, arrived in town Friday and a question he had for Lange provides an insight into what she does. Seeing his sister's reaction after chemotherapy treatment, Spencer asked Lange, "If medicine is good for you, how come Alana is throwing up?"

"So I asked him if all the cells in her body were good cells, and he said not all of them were good. Then I told him sometimes medicine that is good for us makes us feel bad."

Taking time to explain is what the mental aspect of treatment here is about. "You can medically cure somebody but they also have to be cured psychologically," Lange said. "What you don't know is what scares you. The more you know, the more you eliminate fear."

Dr. Jean Sanders, one of Alana's physicians, has been in Malaysia on business. She will pick up Alana's donated bone marrow in Taiwan and bring it here tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well, the transplant will be performed later in the day.

Alana will receive the bone marrow intravenously, as in a blood transfusion, through a catheter implanted in her chest.

For Alana, it will be one of the least active days.

"It may not make a difference to her, but for her parents, it's the most important day," Lange said.