BEIJING, Oct. 10 (Xinhua) -- In the morning, after being dressed in a white shroud, Lu Guijun was laid gently in a coffin surrounded by lilies and chrysanthemums. Relatives and friends came to say their goodbyes, one by one.
When the ritual ended, he sat up, climbed out, and hugged his wife and two children, unable to hold back his tears. It was a rehearsal funeral.
"I wanted to experience death once," he said. "So I can help my patients face the end of life."
Lu is a doctor at the Department of Pain Medicine of Beijing Tsinghua Changgung Hospital.
When he was working at a hospital in north China's Hebei Province in previous years, he found that while the physical pain of patients with terminal cancer could be relieved, they were still tormented by regret and unfulfilled wishes as they neared the end of life.
In 1998, he started to explore hospice care on his own. At that time, few doctors in China specialized in this field.
Hospice care, which provides comprehensive support for the terminally ill, aims to manage pain, improve quality of life, and ensure a decent, peaceful passing through multidisciplinary care.
According to China's 15th Five-Year Plan (2026-2030), the country will expand rehabilitation services and hospice care.
In 2019, Lu joined Beijing Tsinghua Changgung Hospital and established a hospice team, which comprises doctors, nurses, social workers, psychological counselors, and volunteers.
For most people in China, talking about death with patients is considered taboo. But in hospice wards, it is an open topic.
"Patients here are all informed about their condition, with nothing hidden from them, and they also know they will soon leave this world," Lu said, noting that the hospice team will help them fulfill their wishes, such as cooking a meal for the family, displaying personal art masterpieces, and recording their voice.
In the hospice wards of Beijing Tsinghua Changgung Hospital, a large oil painting hangs on the wall. In the painting, a golden river meanders across the cosmic background. Lu introduced the work titled "The Long River of Life."
"The painting is filled with patients' names. Some were written by patients themselves, and some were written by relatives after the patients had died," Lu said peacefully.
Sometimes he saw relatives of deceased patients come back and gaze at the painting.
Although Lu talks about death calmly, he used to experience the panic of facing it.
In 2016, his second sister was diagnosed with liver cancer. Lu took her to many famous hospitals across China, looking for a cure. But a colleague finally told him the truth: there was no treatment left that could save her.
"At that time, I felt conflicted. As a doctor, I should accept the reality. However, as a brother, I wanted her to live longer," Lu recalled. "Whenever someone asked about my sister's condition, I could say nothing and just shed tears in silence."
After going through despair, he came to accept the reality.
In her final months, Lu and other family members stayed by her side. Each of them said what they wanted to say.
"I didn't hide her diagnosis from her or the family and always told her not to worry," Lu said. "Because our mom, dad, siblings, and her husband and children were all standing with her."
Eight months after being diagnosed, Lu's sister passed away at 46.
"From the evaluation system of hospice care, she died without regrets," Lu said. "Having experienced my sister's death, I realized that our hospice team members need to put ourselves into different perspectives."
Every Monday afternoon, Lu conducts hospice care grand rounds with his hospice team. They often review recent cases, discuss what could be improved in hospice care, and sometimes even rehearse funerals: one member lies in bed as the dead patient, while others play relatives or strangers.
"The purpose of the grand rounds sessions is to let our team experience death from a first-person perspective," Lu said. "If we do not put ourselves in patients' or their relatives' shoes, we cannot empathize with them." He added that it is a form of education about life and death for team members.
Among them is Pan Minglu, an anthropology student at Renmin University of China, who has volunteered with Lu's team for three years.
When she saw a patient pass away in the ward, she was not afraid and helped make funeral arrangements together with her team members and the patient's relatives.
"It is in hospice wards that I realized death is a natural end of the life process," she said. "Here, we can make death a foreseeable ending, which means we can see it coming and prepare for it." She explained that the horror of death for people lies in its uncertainty.
Pan is not the only university student touched by Lu's work.
In his spare time, Lu also teaches courses on life and death at universities such as Tsinghua University and Peking University Health Science Center.
Rather than giving lectures, he leads students in designing their own funeral plans and takes them to visit a funeral home.
Over time, Lu saw the students stop tensing up at the mention of death. Now they openly discuss hospice care, living wills, and body donation.
"Death is a part of life, and nothing special. The more we avoid it, the more we fear it. Only by facing death head-on can we understand it," he said. ■
