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.
2月16日武汉封城第25天
早上一睁眼，房间里洒满了阳光，仿佛昨天的狂风暴雪不曾出现过一样。
如果有一天，一睁眼，发现回到了从来没有疫情发生过的1月1日，把2020年重新来过，该有多好啊。
又一位医护人员殉职了，武昌医院的柳帆护士于2月14日下午殉职。我注意到内地的媒体、医院的官方通告，对于医护人员几乎没有用到“殉职”这个词，而是“去世”“病逝”之类的措辞，但是之前有辅警因为防疫工作去世，通稿中全是“殉职”。我当然知道这个细微的差别是出于什么原因，不过就是想淡化医护人员因为疫情殒命的社会影响。
一面无所不用其极地制造舆论道德绑架，将医护人员“英雄化”，一面对他们的殉职遮遮掩掩避而不谈，一面是始终无法到位的各类物资。你们说，这个政权真的对医护人员有多么珍惜吗？不是，只是把他们当作无限投入无限压榨的工具而已。
更绝望的是内地网上大量的“理客中”们还在积极“辟谣”柳帆护士的感染不是因为医院防护服不到位，而是感染自父母。我简直愤怒到无以复加。你们说，这些人该长心的地方，是长了个党徽吗？
当年考大学，妈妈希望我学医，可惜我对这个职业没有兴趣，为此我妈念叨过我好多年。这次我问妈妈，是不是幸亏没学医？妈妈不说话了。
柳帆，武昌医院护士，于2月14日殉职。
常凯，湖北电影制片厂影视部主任，于2月14日去世。
以及他们的父母家人也在这场灾难中去世。
段正澄，华中科技大学机械学院教授、博导、中国工程院院士，于2月15日去世。
这些是我们能看到名字的逝者，还有很多很多不可尽数的如我一样的普通人，他们再也看不到武汉的樱花开了。
有时候我想催眠自己，拒绝与这些悲剧共情，我想装作已经被自身的防御机制收买，变得麻木而无动于衷。
可是我做不到。那些地名都太熟悉了，那些计入了数字和未计入数字的生命，也许都曾与我擦肩而过。那个冬夜里追在车后喊“妈妈”的声音一遍遍再我脑海中回响，就好像是我自己发出的呼喊。那种痛感依然存在。
“忍看朋辈成新鬼，怒向刀丛觅小诗”，我最近好像越来越能理解这句诗的意思了。
今天继续听到荒唐的消息，我的一位朋友，他远在东北的朋友告诉他，他们最近买到了一批口罩，发货地也是武汉。
一个群里的护士朋友昨天还在说，他们今天就断粮了——字面意义的“断粮”，没吃的了。
我不知道还能用怎样的语言形容我的心情，我甚至觉得我愤怒的能力也在渐渐离我而去，剩下的只有无力，满满的无力感，我没有能力去帮助他们、没有能力去改变任何不公，我想大声说“你们罢工吧不要干了！”，但我自己先封住了我的嘴。
我只能写下这些，让自己不要忘记。我甚至不奢求让别人跟我一起记住，只希望自己不要忘记。总有一天疫情会过去，千万不要因为那个时刻劫后余生的庆幸和喜悦而淹没此刻的愤怒和无力。
昨晚有外地的朋友跟我说，他们公司给他们下了捐赠要求，可以捐100元、300元、500元。我问，能不能不捐；她说：不行。
我不知道该说什么。疫情发生以来，我跟每个朋友都说不要捐款，我们谁都不会知道这些钱最后去了哪里。但是当“捐款”也变成一种强行“众志成城”的表演，个人意愿没有任何意义。
就像微博爆出的那些，双目失明的老人捐款1000元、捡垃圾的老人捐款9000元、环卫工老大爷捐了攒了多年的积、八旬老人捐出毕生积蓄……这可是国耻啊！这有什么值得宣传呢？
微博上看到常凯导演遗言，字字剜心：
“除夕之夜，遵从政令，撤单豪华酒店年夜宴。自己勉为其难将就掌勺，双亲高堂及内人欢聚一堂，其乐融触。
殊不知，噩梦降临，大年初一，老爷子发烧咳嗽，呼吸困难，送至多家医院就治，均告无床位接收，多方求助，也还是一床难求。失望之及，回家自救，床前尽孝，寥寥数日，回天乏术，老父含恨撒手人寰，多重打击之下，慈母身心疲惫，免疫力尽失，亦遭烈性感染，随老父而去。
床前服侍双亲数日，无情冠状病毒也吞噬了爱妻和我的躯体。辗转诸家医院哀求哭拜，怎奈位卑言轻，床位难觅，直至病入膏肓，错失医治良机，奄奄气息之中，广告亲朋好友及远在英伦吾儿：我一生为子尽孝，为父尽责，为夫爱妻，为人尽诚！永别了！我爱的人和爱我的人。”
有人“辗转诸家医院哀求哭拜……床位难觅”，有人嫌病房达不到厅级标准拒不就医。
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