What were you doing when you were 21? Ten years ago, Chang Bu was a third-year student in the Department of Arts and Design at National Dong Hwa University in Hualien. While starting to prepare for her gradu­ation ­project, Chang was happily discussing a possible trip to Japan with friends in order to celebrate the completion of their studies. One day, however, she was seized by a terrible pain in one of her legs. She then noticed that her legs were different lengths. She took countless painkillers and went to consult many doctors. After a preliminary examination, an orthopedist told Chang that the bones in the right side of her pelvis had disappeared.

Easy to prepare and put away, colored pencils helped cheer Chang Bu up when her life was at a low ebb.

Ward 93

No other cause being identifiable, Chang’s disease could only be attributed to gene mutations. A malignant tumor had been quietly growing in the depths of her pelvis, eating away areas of healthy bone. The doctor said that her cancer had entered Stage III.

“I thought there was probably not much hope.” It wasn’t until more than a year after Chang began her treatment at Taipei Veterans General Hospital that her attending physician, Chen Wei-ming, told her about the gloomy prognosis he had initially made. Despite the extremely slim chances of recovery, Chen, moved by the imploring words of Chang’s father, was determined to give the case his best shot.

Now vice superintendent of TVGH, Chen always treats his patients as if they were his own family. By giving Chang his personal mobile phone number, he initiated a doctor‡patient relationship built upon mutual trust. He also made special arrangements to admit the “over-aged” 21-year-old to the children’s ward in the hospital—commonly known as Ward 93.

Bone cancer patients were rare in the hospital Chang had been admitted to in Kaohsiung; her attending physi­cian there had not seen a single case for eight years. By contrast, almost all of the bone cancer patients in Taiwan have been treated in Ward 93. “Two thirds of the 30 beds here are for bone cancer,” Chang says. As a result, not only are the medics responsible for Ward 93 well equipped with practical experience, but there’s also a tremendous sense of camaraderie among the patients and their relatives, who give each other encouragement and exchange information and resources. “There’s a ­really nice vibe. We’re like family,” Chang tells us.

Destined for art

Chang underwent an 11-hour operation to remove her tumor. To fully excise the mass, the surgeon had to cut the nerves that were enveloped by the tumor before going on to repair them, and the operation was followed by 12 high-intensity doses of chemotherapy. The pain Chang had to endure while her nerves were re­cover­ing, and the severe side effects of the chemotherapy, made her want to give up on life.

Having been through this dreadful experience, Chang says: “The desire to live is what gives you the strongest motivation to go on.” Whenever she found herself in a ditch during her cancer treatment, art was a major preoccupation that helped her keep fighting for life. When, at one point, she had almost lost all confid­ence in herself, a younger friend at her university came to see her, bringing a drawing board she had left behind in Hualien. “If you don’t know what to do, do something you enjoy,” said the friend.

Following her friend’s suggestion, Chang took up drawing again. Little did she know that her creations would generate enthusiastic responses in her ward. Not only did the nurses lavish praise on her artworks, her fellow patients were also keen to own her impromptu sketches of human figures. “The moment I was given praise, I real­ized that I wasn’t just a patient; I wasn’t someone who had to rely on ­others for everything. Rather, there were things I could do,” Chang recalls.

With limited physical mobility, Chang particularly enjoys drawing architecture from across the world, which enables her to travel in her imagination. She has also designed Little Bu, an “IP character” modeled on herself and immediately recognizable as her creation.

Even though Little Bu embodies her creator’s spirit, it is noticeable that her hairstyle and outfit—the double buns on her head and the gorgeous magenta blouse she wears—do not bear any resemblance to Chang’s own appearance. For Chang, Little Bu isn’t merely a straightforward replica of herself. To put it more accurately, the character is Chang’s alter ego.

Chang never stopped creating art during her time in the ward. At the suggestion of a relative of a fellow patient, she turned her works into a calendar for sale. More than a hundred copies were sold in the first year. This adventure also led to new opportunities for exhibi­tions and publications, introducing Chang to many kindhearted people who have helped her along the way. Little Bu “has helped me achieve a lot of things I couldn’t have done on my own,” she says. It was indeed Little Bu who launched Chang’s exciting new career.

The journal Chang kept while she was receiving cancer treatment features images with uncolored figures against gorgeously colorful backgrounds. In her view, “we have to fill in the colors of our own lives.”

A patient’s blessing

Despite the dismal prognosis that hung over her head, Chang has pulled through. Having stared death in the face, she is now more philosophical about life. Perhaps for most people, getting cancer is an extreme misfortune, but for Chang cancer not only represents adversities and challenges but also bestows a rare gift. She says: “It gave me an opportunity to learn, at the young age of 21, to communicate with my parents and friends, to interact with myself, and to persevere with my dreams. The process wasn’t just riddled with ceaseless worries. Rather, it was redeemed by my longings for the future.”

Cancer taught Chang to seize the day and live a meaningful life, but her unexpected adventure also made her realize that she should never put limits on herself. Throughout this journey, she has been welcoming opportunities whenever they arise. In addition to selling her own calendars, Chang has recently held a solo exhibi­tion and established a personal brand. Often invited to give talks, and serving as a hospital volunteer, she also does freelance work, writes columns, and undertakes brand marketing and event planning for businesses. She is a veritable young “slashie.”

Since Chang began to share with the public her experi­ence as a cancer patient, she has received copious positive feedback. The courage she has demonstrated in adversity and her unyielding determination to live have lifted the spirits of many distressed people and brought hope to fellow cancer sufferers. As her doctor Chen Wei-ming says, while medical reports across the world tell us that the five-year survival rate for osteo­sarcomas in the pelvis is between 5% and 38%, in Taiwan it is at present as high as 80%. While some may attribute Chang’s successful recovery to good luck, for the medics who treated her it carries profound significance. The success is hugely encouraging.

“It is a very meaningful thing for one person’s life to become a blessing to others,” Chang says. Although cancer has imposed irreversible restraints on her body, she moves on with never-say-die tenacity, keeping her eye on the bright side of things. Even if she can only take one small step at a time, hers is a many-splendored journey.

Chang Bu with Chen Wei-ming, vice superintendent of Taipei Veterans General Hospital. Chen is much revered and loved by his patients, who call him “Daddy Chen.”

Having survived cancer, Chang serves as a hospital volunteer, sharing her experience with other patients in order to give them encouragement.

Hopes Under a Rainbow, a component of Chang Bu’s MFA graduation project, is a series of animal portraits that symbolize Chang’s friends, while the colorful flowers in the backgrounds represent the artist herself. When gathered together, the pictures form a rainbow.