Meeting heart to heart

Sivleng Chuy, center, reacts to seeing her son, Bunlak Song, for the first time in six months, during a video chat in Phonm Penh, Cambodia, on September 20, 2011. Peter Chhun, right, used his computer to set up the chat between Bunlak Song and his mother, Sivleng Chuy and brother, Bunlong Song, left, at a Phnom Penh restaurant. (Jeff Gritchen / Staff Photographer)

Bunlak Song shows his missing teeth to his mother, Sivleng Chuy, during a video chat set up by Peter Chhun on September 20, 2011, in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. (Jeff Gritchen / Staff Photographer)

09/20/2011
By Greg Mellen, Staff Writer
Long Beach Press Telegram (California, USA)

PHNOM PENH, Cambodia - Sivleng Chuy hopped up and down in her seat at a restaurant in downtown Phnom Penh, Cambodia, and clapped happily as the computer images began to appear.

An impoverished shop owner from an eastern province in Cambodia, Chuy was not only getting her first personal experience with a computer, but via video chat she was about to see and talk to her adopted son and her daughter from whom she has been separated for the past six months.

The son is Bunlak Song. The 3-year-old boy is in Long Beach awaiting lifesaving open-heart surgery. Bunlak was brought to the U.S. by a Long Beach nonprofit and is scheduled to have an operation Friday to close a hole in his heart and repair several other less severe defects.

It is the Tuesday before the boy's surgery. Chuy made a nearly 25-mile journey into the city on the back of a small motor scooter to meet with Peter Chhun, the head of Hearts Without Boundaries, which is sponsoring Bunlak's surgery, scheduled to be performed at Children's Hospital Los Angeles.

She has also brought 11 pounds of dried fish for Chhun to ferry to give the children a taste of home.

After Chhun makes several clicks on the laptop, the image of Bunlak appears on the screen.

"Oh, he's so big," Chuy says in Khmer, translated by Chhun.

"How are you, Mommy?" Bunlak says in English to his startled mother.

"I don't understand what you're saying," Chuy answers with a laugh.

"Did you miss me?"

The conversation continues happily, with Bunlak showing off his mouth, which is now missing several baby teeth extracted prior to surgery.

When Chuy sees her 24-year-old daughter, Bunkek Song, she exclaims with a laugh, "Oh, she's fat."

Not offended, Bunkek proudly tells her mom she has gained weight and is now 122 pounds.

Bunlak says he wants to watch cartoons, and now it is just the mom and Bunkek looking at each other. It is Bunkek who cracks. Tears begin to run down her face.

"She misses her mom and her family. She didn't expect to see her mother (today)," Chhun says.

Bunlak later returns to his sister's lap, and the family members all blow kisses as they say their goodbyes.

When the connection is broken, Chuy sits quietly gazing into space, alone with her thoughts.

Last year, she was a woman without hope. Her son, who was left to her care at a hospital when he was born, was suffering from a heart defect that required numerous trips to the hospital.

Bunlak suffers from a ventricular septal defect, or a hole in his heart. The defect is common and easily treated in the U.S., usually in the first year of a child's life. In Cambodia, where open heart surgery isn't readily available, it's a gradual death sentence.

Chuy says she's seen several children slowly die from the ailment.

As the day for the surgery nears, Chuy admits that the family has become more anxious. Seeing her son looking healthy and bigger, is a comfort, though she understands there is still danger.

Because Bunlak went untreated for so long, his lungs have become damaged because of blood shunted from the heart. He is nearing a point when the lungs will be irreparably harmed and his condition is considered "high-risk." Already, Miller Children's Hospital in Long Beach backed out of performing the operation.

Still, Chuy knows surgery is the only chance her boy has for a full, healthy life.

"We are so happy to see his surgery is in good hands," Chuy said. "We never dreamed of seeing this day."

Chhun, who is in Cambodia on nonprofit and personal business, was happy to be able to digitally link the family before the surgery.

He hoped it would comfort Chuy and help allay her worry as the surgery approaches.

"It's good for them to see and talk to each other," Chhun said. "I can see the anticipation is very high."

As she broke from her reverie, it was time for Chuy and her son Bunlong Song to make the long trip home ahead of the rains that can fall at any time.

After goodbyes, Chuy climbed behind her son on the scooter and the two disappeared into the whir of Phnom Penh traffic, returning home to await word on the fate of Bunlak.

greg.mellen@presstelegram.com, 562-499-1291