<TABLE cellSpacing=0 cellPadding=0 width="100%" border=0><TBODY><TR>The right to choose your own fate
</TR><!-- headline one : end --><!-- Author --><TR><TD class="padlrt8 georgia11 darkgrey bold" colSpan=2>By Tan Dawn Wei
</TD></TR><!-- show image if available --><TR vAlign=bottom><TD width=330>
</TD><TD width=10>
</TD><TD vAlign=bottom>
Despite having no health problems, Mr Kua has signed a living will to ensure that his children don't have to make hard decisions on his behalf. -- ST PHOTO: MUGILAN RAJASEGERAN
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<!-- START OF : div id="storytext"--><!-- more than 4 paragraphs -->
On the third day after the Advance Medical Directive (AMD) Act was passed in 1996, Mr Kua Cheng Chuan, then 37 years old, walked into a clinic to sign a living will.
But the clinic had not even set up the documentation process.
'The nurses said, 'don't be so impatient, you're not going to die anytime soon',' said the technical officer who works in a government agency, with a laugh.
But it was something Mr Kua, now 49, had been paying keen attention to since the Bill was tabled and discussed in Parliament in 1995.
He had even written to Chinese newspaper Lianhe Zaobao in support of it.
'It's about having the right to choose your own fate. You decide before you lose the ability to decide,' the father of two sons aged 21 and 16 said in Mandarin.
He is married to a primary school teacher.
His own father died after a car accident when Mr Kua was just 12. Years later, his seamstress mother told him and his four siblings that it was a good thing their father did not survive.
'Had he become a vegetable, she would never have been able to cope with taking care of him and five young children,' he said.
He has seen other relatives, like his father-in-law and maternal grandfather, live out painful last days confined to a bed, chalking up mounting hospital bills.
'Is there value or meaning to prolonging your life for another year or two? You're a burden to your family, even if they can afford your medical fees.'
Whenever he can, he brings up the topic of AMD with his family and colleagues and persuades them to sign it.
Some have taken his advice, but most have not got around to doing it.
Despite having a clean bill of health, Mr Kua does not obsessively watch what he eats.
His approach to life: Do what you want now instead of waiting till it is too late.
'If you want to travel, go travel. If you want to change jobs, do it,' said the avid Chinese chess player who enjoys collecting stamps.
Signing an AMD is also his way of making sure his children do not have to make hard decisions on his behalf.
'Or they may be saddled with guilt for the rest of their lives,' he said.
<HR width="50%" SIZE=1>
A burden to your family
'Is there value or meaning to prolonging your life for another year or two? You're a burden to your family, even if they can afford your medical fees.'
MR KUA CHENG CHUAN
</TR><!-- headline one : end --><!-- Author --><TR><TD class="padlrt8 georgia11 darkgrey bold" colSpan=2>By Tan Dawn Wei
</TD></TR><!-- show image if available --><TR vAlign=bottom><TD width=330>
</TD><TD width=10>
Despite having no health problems, Mr Kua has signed a living will to ensure that his children don't have to make hard decisions on his behalf. -- ST PHOTO: MUGILAN RAJASEGERAN
</TD></TR></TBODY></TABLE>
<!-- START OF : div id="storytext"--><!-- more than 4 paragraphs -->
On the third day after the Advance Medical Directive (AMD) Act was passed in 1996, Mr Kua Cheng Chuan, then 37 years old, walked into a clinic to sign a living will.
But the clinic had not even set up the documentation process.
'The nurses said, 'don't be so impatient, you're not going to die anytime soon',' said the technical officer who works in a government agency, with a laugh.
But it was something Mr Kua, now 49, had been paying keen attention to since the Bill was tabled and discussed in Parliament in 1995.
He had even written to Chinese newspaper Lianhe Zaobao in support of it.
'It's about having the right to choose your own fate. You decide before you lose the ability to decide,' the father of two sons aged 21 and 16 said in Mandarin.
He is married to a primary school teacher.
His own father died after a car accident when Mr Kua was just 12. Years later, his seamstress mother told him and his four siblings that it was a good thing their father did not survive.
'Had he become a vegetable, she would never have been able to cope with taking care of him and five young children,' he said.
He has seen other relatives, like his father-in-law and maternal grandfather, live out painful last days confined to a bed, chalking up mounting hospital bills.
'Is there value or meaning to prolonging your life for another year or two? You're a burden to your family, even if they can afford your medical fees.'
Whenever he can, he brings up the topic of AMD with his family and colleagues and persuades them to sign it.
Some have taken his advice, but most have not got around to doing it.
Despite having a clean bill of health, Mr Kua does not obsessively watch what he eats.
His approach to life: Do what you want now instead of waiting till it is too late.
'If you want to travel, go travel. If you want to change jobs, do it,' said the avid Chinese chess player who enjoys collecting stamps.
Signing an AMD is also his way of making sure his children do not have to make hard decisions on his behalf.
'Or they may be saddled with guilt for the rest of their lives,' he said.
<HR width="50%" SIZE=1>
A burden to your family
'Is there value or meaning to prolonging your life for another year or two? You're a burden to your family, even if they can afford your medical fees.'
MR KUA CHENG CHUAN