Day25 Wuhan Diary 武汉日记

2020.2.16 25th day of Wuhan quarantine 中文日记最下

As soon as I opened my eyes in the morning, the room was full of sunlight, as if yesterday's stormy snow never appeared.

If one day, if you open your eyes and find out that it has returned to January 1, which this disaster has not happened, it will be great to restart the 2020.

Another medical staff member died, Nurse Liu Fan in Wuchang Hospital died in the afternoon of February 14th. I noticed that the official announcements from the media and hospitals in the Mainland did not use the word "dead duty" for medical staff. Instead, they used words such as "dead". But for the police who passed away because of Epidemic prevention work, they used “death because of work”. Of course, I know the reason for this slight difference, they just wanted to downplay the social impact of the deaths of medical staff due to the epidemic.

On the one hand, they used everything to polarize the moral abduction of the public, "heroize" the medical staff, and on the other hand, they covered up their deaths, and on the one hand, there were all kinds of materials that could not be in place. You say, how much does this regime really cherish the medical staff? No, they just treat them as tools for unlimited investment.

What is even more desperate is that a large number of "individuals" on the Internet in mainland are still actively "dispelling rumors" that the Nurse Liu Fan's infection was not caused by the inadequate protective clothing in the hospital, but by her parents. I was so angry that I couldn't add more. You would say, do these people have a party emblem at the spot where their heart is supposed to be?

When I was in college, my mother wanted me to study medicine. Unfortunately, I was not interested in this profession. For this reason, my mother complained for many years. This time I asked my mother if I was lucky that I didn’t study medicine? Mom stopped talking.

Liu Fan, a nurse at Wuchang Hospital, died on February 14.

Chang Kai, director of the film and television department of Hubei Film Studio, died on February 14.

And their parents and family members died in the disaster.

Duan Zhengcheng, a professor, PhD supervisor and academician of the Chinese Academy of Engineering, Huazhong University of Science and Technology, died on February 15.

These are the people whose names we can see. There are many, many countless ordinary people like me. They can no longer see the cherry blossoms in Wuhan.

Sometimes I just want to hypnotize myself into refusing to empathize with the people caught up in this tragedy. I want to pretend that I have been completely taken over by my defense mechanisms, and become numb and completely indifferent.

But I can’t do it. I know all those place names far too well. Those lives counted up in numbers and those lives not counted. I may have rubbed shoulders with all of them. That voice following a car and yelling “Mama!” keeps coming back to me. As if I myself had cried that out. I still have that pain inside of me.

“When you dear friends become new ghosts, you anger in those evil days turns to the task of remembrance.” These days I have come to understand that verse better and better.

Today I keep on hearing about more lies. A friend who lives in Northeast China told me that he had recently bought a package of face masks and had sent it to Wuhan. But the package of masks was shipped from Wuhan itself.

A nurse friend in a chat group told me yesterday that they had run out of food today. She wrote it just that way “ran out of food”. Nothing to eat.

I don’t have the words to describe the way I feel. I even feel like my ability to get angry is gradually fading away. All I have left is powerlessness, just filled with a sense of powerlessness. There is no way that I can help them. I can’t do anything to right any wrongs. I want to scream, “Just go on strike! Don’t work anymore!” But I shut up my own mouth.

I can only write down these few words so that I won’t forget. I don’t even expect other people to remember along with me. What I hope for is that I won’t forget. One day the epidemic will be over. May we never ever forget, once the epidemic is over and we are happily and joyfully celebrating our survival of this disaster, may we never bury the feelings of anger and powerlessness that I feel at this moment.

Yesterday some friends outside Wuhan told me that their company had asked them to make contributions. The could give 100 RMB, 300 RMB, or 500 RMB. I asked them if they could refuse to donate. The said, “That is not permitted.”

I didn’t know what to say. Ever since the epidemic began, I have been telling my friends not to contribute. There is no way we can ever know where that money will go. But those “donations” have also becomes a performance of “the will of the masses is a mighty force”. The intentions of individuals have no place there.

Just like those breaking news stories on Weibo: a blind elderly donated 1000 RMB, a scavenger elderly donated 9000 RMB, an old man who is a public janitor donated his long-time savings, an 80-year-old donated life-time savings, etc. This is such a national shame! Is there anything worthy of publicity?

I saw the will of director Chang Kai on Weibo. Every word pains my heart:

“On the eve of the New Year, I followed political orders and canceled my reservation for a dinner party at a luxury restaurant. I managed to cook a meal myself and had a gathering with my wife and our parents. Joy was overflowing.

Unexpectedly, a nightmare befell. On the first day of the New Year, my father started coughing and having a fever with difficulty breathing. We sent him to multiple hospitals and were told there was no bed to admit him. We asked for help in many ways but still could not find a bed in any hospital. In full disappointment, we brought him back home for self-rescue. I stayed on his bedside to fulfill my filial piety. In the next few days, we were unable to make improvements on my father and he passed away with deep regret. Under the combination of blows, my loving mother was exhausted physically and mentally. She weakened her immune defense, got infected by the aggressive virus and passed away along with my father.

During the days my wife and I were serving on my parents’ bedside, the relentless virus also invaded and consumed our bodies. We begged for help in tears traveling around different hospitals, but could not find any available bed without any strong voice or power. I have missed my opportunity for medical treatment and I am at death’s door from my illness. At my last gasp, I would like to speak with my relatives, my friends and my son in the distant Great Britain: I have fulfilled my duties as a son with filial piety, as a father with responsibility, as a husband with love and as a human with honesty! Farewell, my loved ones and ones who love me!”

Some people “begged for help in tears traveling around different hospitals, but could not find any available bed”, while some refused to be admitted because the ward in hospital did not reach the “department director” level of care.

This place is so disgusting.




























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