Arthur Yu was exhausted, but he chalked it up to being a new father.
Generally active, Yu found himself out of breath in the afternoon. He negotiated with his wife Alice to get a little more sleep, thinking that her fatigue was just a passing phase.
But four months after her son Abel was born, Yu was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, a genetic mutation that formed in her bone marrow and spread to her blood. Thanks to several rounds of chemotherapy, Yu is currently in remission, but her doctors say that this state is temporary and that her best chance of beating the cancer is a stem cell transplant from a suitable donor.
Yu found an ideal match in a distant cousin, only now he has to convince the United States government to allow that person into the country. And so far, the feds have twice said no to granting a visa to their potential donor.
After the media strategist was diagnosed with leukemia last March, doctors asked his family to take DNA samples from his cheeks to see if there were any suitable candidates for the procedure. None of his immediate relatives were a match, but a distant cousin was: Noel Talania, who lives in rural Philippines.
The two had never met and neither speaks fluent Tagalog, the most common language among the Filipino diaspora. (Talania speaks Ilocano, the third most spoken language in the Philippines). So the two connected over Facebook Messenger last year and translated their words into their respective languages through translation programs.
Talania agreed to become a donor and understood the seriousness of the situation. Yu was realistic about everything she asked of her cousin and she was kind about it.
“I feel like I'm asking too much of you,” Yu wrote to his cousin. “That's when she becomes kind of a reminder of gratitude.”
Talania spent an entire day traveling from her rural village to the U.S. embassy in Manila on Dec. 18, according to Yu, 41, who thought she would be in the process of receiving a stem cell transplant in early 2024. at Cedars-Sinai in Los Angeles.
At her interview at the embassy, Talania was provided with an interpreter who spoke Tagalog, not Ilocano, Alice Yu said, which was not ideal for arguing her case. It was a sign of things to come: At the end of the meeting, an embassy official made it clear that the U.S. government was denying Talania's request for a tourist visa. The official reason was laid out in a form letter provided to Talania: the government contended that Talania could not prove that he would return to his home country after arriving in the U.S., as required by section 2.14(B) of the Act. of Immigration and Nationality. , even though his wife and children live in the Philippines and he has an established business there.
“When we applied for this visa in December, no one warned me that this was going to be a problem,” Yu said. “Even my doctors were surprised.”
Citizens of 41 countries can travel to the United States without a visa for business or tourism, but the Philippines is not one of those nations.
Talania appealed the denial, and Yu's family and friends turned to all available resources to find a solution. Inquiries by advisors to U.S. Sen. Alex Padilla (D-Calif.) expedited the application process, and Talania was granted a second interview on Jan. 10.
Talania arrived with documents showing that Yu could afford to house Talania while she underwent the transplant procedure, along with a doctor's note detailing Yu's diagnosis and evidence that Yu's family was in contact with the office. of Padilla. She also brought her marriage certificate and proof that she wants to return to the Philippines after the procedure.
But they stopped him before he could present any of that.
“They told her, 'Oh, we don't need to see that,'” Alice Yu said, recounting what an embassy official told Talania.
This time the embassy did not provide an interpreter and the interviewer spoke only in English, Alice Yu said. The official did not look at any of the documents Talania brought with him and told him that his request had been denied…again. Talania texted his cousin a single screenshot with two hastily typed words: “Humanitarian parole.”
The sentence filled Yu with despair.
“I started asking him, 'Why are you texting this to me? What is this? I know that [parole] is? Are you telling me you were denied?'” Yu recalled her asking her cousin.
Humanitarian parole allows foreign nationals to enter the U.S. temporarily due to an ongoing conflict in their home country. The application process has recently been used by Ukrainians fleeing the Russian invasion, but the process can take up to two years, according to immigration attorney Sameen Ahmadnia of the law firm Fragomen, Del Rey, Bernsen & Loewy.
Yu will have to present a comprehensive case to the US government to show why his cousin should be allowed to enter the country.
“There are just a lot of sympathetic cases,” Ahmadnia said. “The problem is trying to get your case highlighted to a government official.”
Ahmadnia, who offered to work with Yu pro bono After learning about his case, she helped him apply for humanitarian parole, with a reinforced list of documents to support his case. The hope is that at some point in the process someone will expedite his case.
For Yu, “up to two years” is time he doesn't have.
“If there's one word to describe anger-infused optimism it's this, because I'm grateful to have this option, but I'm also furious that I have to use it,” Yu said.
The US State Department did not respond to requests for comment. Yu's story was first reported by news station KABC 7.
Yu's survival rate with chemotherapy alone is minimal and carries additional risks to his health, according to his doctor, Dr. Ron Paquette, clinical director of the Bone Marrow and Stem Cell Transplant Program at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. Yu will need repeated chemotherapy treatments to keep his leukemia in remission, but each delay puts his life at risk.
Yu is in the “perfect place to proceed” with a transplant, Paquette said. There are some alternatives, such as taking Talania to Mexico to donate her stem cells or using another donor who is not as compatible as Yu, but Paquette said the best chance is to take Talania to Cedars-Sinai.
While he is not familiar with the visa process, Paquette urges government officials to “weigh the risks and benefits and read carefully” about Yu's case.
“This is a person's life on the line, where we can really make a difference in their long-term survival,” Paquette said.
Yu has “golden retriever energy” according to his wife Alice, even with his cancer diagnosis, chemotherapy treatment, his father's unexpected death, and the battle to get Talania a visa.
“If you knew him, you wouldn't even know he went through all this last year,” Alice Yu said.
Alice Yu is a surgical nurse at Cedars-Sinai, and when she's not raising her son with Yu, she's taking care of her husband—that is, when he lets her, because he's generally a very independent person. During her most recent chemotherapy treatment, Yu continued to work, because she plans to save her remaining sick days for herself when she receives the stem cell transplant.
When that day comes, Alice Yu will become his 24/7 caregiver because it will take more than a year for his immune system to recover.
But you've also noticed that your husband takes the time to explain the mundane tasks he usually performed around the house, like paying property taxes or operating the house remote controls.
“It's all to prepare me for when he's not here,” she said, her voice breaking.
When Talania reported from Manila that he had been denied a visa for the second time, it was already late at night in Los Angeles. The message came with a crash to Yu's house. Not knowing what to do, Alice and Arthur ate some strudels from Porto's Bakery.
“We calmed down a little and then went to sleep. There is nothing else you can do at that time,” Yu said.
Without a transplant, his doctors scheduled another round of chemotherapy. Yu agreed, but before going to the hospital she took her 14-month-old son to ride the train in Griffith Park's Travel Town just like she did as a child.
He was also quick to arrange Abel's baptism in the Cathedral Chapel of Saint Vibiana, the same chapel where he married Alice.
