Experiencing COVID-19 in the UK | 在英国亲历“新冠”
Written by: Yiwen | 亦文
Translated by: Nyelin
Editor’s Note:
This article is excerpted from Haha! Britain — a charitable bilingual publication co-produced by The Mothers’ Bridge of Love (MBL) and River Cam Breeze. The book is a lively collaboration between 42 Chinese authors living in the UK and 36 university-based volunteer translators. With wit and warmth, the stories capture the everyday realities of Chinese communities in Britain, offering an honest look at the cultural clashes, humour, and adaptation that arise in the space between Chinese and British ways of life. Haha! Britain has been warmly endorsed by several well-known figures in UK-China relations, including Stephen Perry (former Chairman of the 48 Group Club), Luise Schäfer OBE (former British diplomat and Chamber of Commerce chair), Professor Hugo De Burgh (former BBC editor and academic), and British scholar Martin Jacques. The book’s title was handwritten by celebrated British-Chinese artist Qu Leilei, its cover illustrated by bestselling Chinese author and poet Feng Tang, and the postscript contributed by Xue Mo, a prominent voice in contemporary Chinese literature.
Illustrated by Tian Tian
The three years of the COVID-19 pandemic have been a global catastrophe, affecting everyone and every family.During that time, I was a resident doctor at a regional general hospital, witnessing firsthand the rise, peak and decline of the first wave of the pandemic in the UK. I personally treated countless patients and was among the first to be infected by thevirus. Now, three years later, life has mostly returned to normal, and many memories have faded. Yet, the impact ofCOVID-19 lingers everywhere, and I often find myself reflecting on those experiences.
In early 2020, I was rotated to a district general hospital in southeast England for a six-month emergency internal medicine training. In the UK, apart from some major hospitals known as tertiary referral centres, most hospitals aresmaller district general hospitals (DGH). This hospital was in a medium-sized town, not far from London, in a relativelyaffluent area. Many of the locals commuted to London for work, and many wealthy Londoners owned large houses here. The British Prime Minister’s official retreat, Chequers, was nearby. A colleague once joked that if I stayed in the position of the emergency department, I might end up treating the Prime Minister. During the pandemic, that joke nearly came true,but that is another story.
1. The Storm Approaches
People who have lived in the UK for many years often feel that life here is very calm. Especially in rural areas, daysgo by quietly, with today seeming no different from yesterday. The emergence of a new virus in a faraway place seemedsimilarly remote. If someone told you this virus would affect everyone on the whole planet, you’d probably question theirsanity. When I arrived at this hospital in February, Wuhan had already been locked down. The general sentiment in the UKwas that this was just another “SARS”, and China would control it. There was no sense of urgency. However, among the Chinese community, people were already taking action. Some friends began sending money and masks back to China. My younger daughter and a few of her friends took photos to show their support for China and Wuhan, hoping that the situation would improve.
As time passed, cases began to emerge across Europe and the United States. People realised that this virus was different from “SARS”, and the control measures seemed ineffective. In early February, the hospital started posting notices at the entrance, “If you have a fever and have been to mainland China in the last two weeks, please do not enter thehospital. Please call 111.” The hospital began requiring all staff to wear masks and assigned personnel to correct those who didn’t wear them properly. The head of the infectious disease department is Chinese, and we chatted once duringrounds. He said, “This virus seems to be a big problem and can’t be eradicated. It will eventually reach the UK. Its societalimpact could be as great as a world war.” His words proved prophetic!
In March, Europe experienced widespread infections. The hospital began clearing wards to prepare for a large influx of patients. All inpatients who could go home were discharged, leaving the wards nearly empty, with only a handful ofpatients at most. One day, there were no patients at all, and we residents sat around chatting. Everyone felt lost andanxious and had no idea what was going to happen. That day, a resident who usually did extra shifts was worried about hisincome. Most people were more concerned about their health and that of their families, wondering whether they could survive this pandemic. The head of the respiratory department suddenly took on a much more prominent role, organisinglectures on managing respiratory infections and emphasising the importance of conserving oxygen. The hospital also arranged mask fit tests for everyone to ensure their N95 masks were effective. Although the government promised asufficient supply, in reality, N95 masks were scarce on the wards.
2. The First Case
One weekend in mid-to-late March, I was on duty. The previous day, a man in his sixties had been admitted with a fever and breathing difficulties. He had a recent travel history and underlying interstitial lung disease. A nasal swab had been taken, but the results would take three days. In the morning, the nurse told me his IV line was blocked and neededreplacing. I was about to draw blood, so I prepared the necessary items and went to see him. He was in a single room, but since he wasn’t a confirmed COVID patient yet, I couldn’t wear an N95 mask or protective clothing. So I only wore a regular surgical mask. He was lying in the bed with a high-flow oxygen nasal cannula, breathing 60 litres per minute, but ingood spirits. He chatted with me while I worked. He was British, and had travelled extensively in Asia. He lived in Thailand and Malaysia for twenty to thirty years. Now, since he was older and less mobile, he had returned to the UK. He spoke fondly of Asian food and the climate of Southeast Asia. He had no family, but his brother lived nearby. He said he had no clean clothes and his brother was bringing him some. Everything went smoothly. I inserted a catheter, drew some blood. After saying goodbye to him, I went on to deal with other matters.
Two hours later, the nurse urgently called me, saying the patient’s oxygen saturation had dropped to the 80s. I rushedover and found it was true. He was at 83%. He was clearly in respiratory distress and already unconscious. The situationwas dire so I immediately called a nurse to activate the emergency rescue mechanism and bring in the emergency team,while also summoning the attending physician. The attending physician arrived within minutes and quickly went in to seethe patient. The emergency team arrived shortly after. After I briefed them on the situation, the team leader said, “The patient is high-risk; we must take protective measures.” They then methodically donned protective gowns, face shields andgoggles according to the protocol. I stood there, watching them staying calm and collected, feeling like I was waiting for aneternity! Of course, I knew they were doing the right thing. Staying busy but orderly maximised our chances of executing ahigh-quality resuscitation. After they went in, I stayed outside the door relaying messages, passing samples, andreading lab reports for them. They worked tirelessly, performing CPR, inserting arterial lines, administering external defibrillation, and so on. But the patient showed no signs of improvement. Eventually, he was pronounced dead.
Afterwards, the emergency team and the on-site staff held a short meeting in the adjacent office. This was the firstcase of suspected COVID-19 at our hospital. The team leader summarised the procedures and shortcomings, then warnedeveryone to self-isolate and report to the hospital immediately if they developed a fever within the next few days. As I escorted them out of the ward, a middle-aged man was standing just outside the corridor, holding a bag, saying he had brought clothes for his brother. His brother was the patient. Clearly, he was still unaware of what had happened. I reported this to the attending physician, who then went to inform the patient’s family.
This was our hospital’s first suspected COVID-19 death. Just a few hours before he passed, the patient had been joking and chatting with me. Now he was gone. When I returned to the ward, I saw the nurse in charge of the patient crying, and the Chief of Respirology was there comforting her. The Chief was usually very strict and rarely smiled. It was unusual to see her showing emotion. Later, the patient’s test results came out: COVID-19 positive.
3. “Hitting the Mark”
After returning home, I told my family about what had happened and immediately decided to write a will. Living inthe UK, it makes sense to have a will in place early. A friend of mine shared his experience when his partner passed awaywithout a will. He had to endure the pain of losing his loved one while also spending money and effort on various legaldocuments. He advised me to take care of it early. However, with the complexities of work and life, finding the time to handle this long-overdue task was never easy. Now, it seemed like the perfect opportunity.
The next day, I was off, so I had two friends witness and sign the will. When making it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit like a warrior setting off on a perilous journey.
On the third day, I went back to work. After doing my rounds, I went to review medical records and suddenly felt a bit off. I experienced a moment of dizziness and was unsteady on my feet. After a few more unsteady steps, the samefeeling returned. A nurse was checking a patient’s temperature, so I borrowed her thermometer and took my own temperature: 37.6°C! The hospital had issued a notice a few days earlier stating that if anyone developed a fever, they muststop working immediately and go into isolation. I quickly informed my colleagues, and then drove home.
Upon arriving home, I notified the hospital’s occupational health department and was instructed to isolate for seven days. I asked if I could get a throat swab test and they said no, as testing kits were limited and only hospitalised critical cases could be tested. That day, I moved myself into the small study downstairs, using the downstairs bathroom exclusively. My husband left meals at the door in disposable containers, and I took out the rubbish after a few days.
My children were not allowed to enter my room and could only talk to me through the door, which made them quite unhappy. My youngest daughter, who loves hugs and close contact, was especially upset. Her older sister was away at college and couldn’t visit often. Now, with her father isolated in a small room, she was very unhappy.
In the next two or three days, my symptoms worsened. I felt light-headed, had body aches, and was completelyexhausted. I spent the entire day resting in bed. The small study, only about two or three square metres large, had a smalldesk and a single bed. When I was awake, there was little to do, and I often watched the spider on the wall busily spinningits web. It made me think of the story of Robert the Bruce, the King of Scotland, who was inspired by a spider to persevereand eventually reclaim his throne. I wondered if I would have a chance for my own “comeback”.
Various thoughts kept swirling in my mind. With the will taken care of, I no longer worried about that. Instead, I reflected on my life – my growth, education and career. After graduating from medical school, I decided to pursueresearch. I completed my master’s and PhD before leaving mainland China. After many years of research, I returned toclinical practice. And now, I faced COVID-19. I worried what would happen to my family if things got bad. I also felt anxious, fearing that I might have already infected my family and friends before showing symptoms. Yet, I held onto a bitof hope, thinking, “I can’t be that unlucky, can I?”
During those days, my daughter could occasionally talk to me from the outside of the door. Sometimes she sang. It was the only comfort I had during that time! By the fourth day, my condition began to improve. The fever subsided and myappetite slowly returned. A week later, I had fully recovered and returned to work. Neither my family nor the friends whohelped me with the will showed any symptoms. From that moment on, I decided to designate the small study as a semi-contaminated area in our home. Every day after returning from work, the first thing I did was to go to the small study to change my clothes. Only after showering could I give my daughter a big hug.
Because I hadn’t undergone a throat swab test, I was never officially diagnosed. Later, the hospital allowed healthcareworkers to test each other for COVID-19 antibodies, so I asked a colleague to draw blood for me. The next day, the resultcame out. I was positive for antibodies, confirming that I had indeed been infected with COVID-19.
4. The Rise and Fall
A few days later, the UK started a nationwide lockdown. The route I took to work was a major artery leading to London, usually bustling with traffic. Now, there was only me on the wide four-lane road. Supermarkets started experiencing panic-buying. When healthcare workers finished their shifts, they often found the shelves empty. A nurse tearfully posted a video saying she couldn’t buy food. After the video aired on TV, major supermarkets began opening special sessions for healthcare workers. I went once, standing in a long, winding queue, braving the cold wind. Fortunately, the government quickly designated supermarket staff and truck drivers as key workers, allowing them to work during the lockdown, and the supermarket supply situation began to improve. Later on, the Prime Minister wasadmitted to intensive care. He fell ill while residing in Downing Street, not at Chequers, so he was taken to St. Thomas’Hospital in London, narrowly missing being admitted to the hospital where I worked.
The atmosphere in the hospital was becoming increasingly tense, as all efforts were directed towards preparing forthe impending COVID-19 surge. Non-COVID patients were becoming rare sightings, and those few who were admitted eventually tested positive. To reduce in-hospital infections, healthcare workers started wearing isolation gowns, which quickly became scarce. The emergency department was particularly unhappy, as staff from other departments would “steal” their gowns. Eventually, the hospital distributed gowns to all doctors. Female doctors wore red isolation gowns,which looked quite nice, while male doctors wore brown ones, prompting some to joke that they resembled the colour offaeces. Shift handovers also became problematic. Initially, attempts were made to conduct handovers in outdoor spaces, but this was discontinued after two days. It compromised patient privacy and no one could endure standing in the cold windfor half an hour at 10 p.m. After weighing the pros and cons, the hospital designated the largest room available andmandated that everyone wear masks during handovers. While it couldn’t guarantee a two-metre safety distance between individuals, it was a stark departure from the previous crowded handover situations.
Later on, the hospital became a hotspot for infections, with more and more healthcare workers infected with COVID-19. There were constant reports of doctors and nurses from various departments being admitted to the intensivecare unit. Eventually, one nurse who was infected with the virus passed away despite rescue efforts. He was a Filipino, in theprime of his life, leaving behind a wife and children. On the day of his burial, his hearse slowly circled the hospital building, and all staff who could attend came out to bid him farewell, many with tears streaming down their faces. In our department, a nurse manager also ended up in the ICU, but fortunately, she later recovered. Everyone felt the spectre of death loomingnot far away.
In May, the situation began to improve, and the tide of the pandemic gradually receded. COVID-19 cases decreased, while the case rates of other patients started to increase. Our training slowly returned to normal.
Afterwards, I applied for training as a general practitioner (GP) and was successfully accepted into a programmeclose to home. In early August, I bid farewell to this hospital and started the new position.
Someone says that in the grand sweep of time, each person is like a grain of sand, seemingly insignificant. COVID-19 has made everyone realise the fragility of life. Amid the pandemic, I witnessed countless farewells between loved ones, felt the anxiety and helplessness of patients’ families numerous times over the phone, and saw desperation andhelplessness in the eyes of patients. Many times, I questioned the value of my work as a doctor. Witnessing the passing of so many vibrant lives truly makes one cherish everything that they have, every minute spent with family, and every“luxury” they have in life – the most important of which is good health.
About the author
Yiwen graduated from a medical school in China and holds a PhD in immunology. He has been engaged in scientific research at the University of Oxford for many years and is currently working as a general practitioner (GP).
新冠三年是一场严峻的考验，影响到了每一个人，每一个家庭。当年，我正在一家地区总医院做住院医生，在临床一线经历了英国第一波疫情从无到有，进入高峰，再回落的跌宕起伏全过程，亲手诊治了无数患者，自己也成为第一批新冠感染者。三年之后，生活已经完全恢复正常，很多记忆已经淡忘了。但新冠的影响无时无处不在，我也不时地回想起当年的经历。
2020年初，我轮转到英格兰东南部的一家地区总医院，在那里进行了为期六个月的急诊内科培训。英国的医疗系统，除了一些大医院，即所谓的三级转诊中心外，大部分都是规模较小的地区总医院（District General Hospital）。这家医院所在的地方是一个中等规模的镇子，离伦敦不远，属于比较富庶的地区。很多当地人每天通勤去伦敦上班，也有不少伦敦的富人在这里买别墅。英国首相的官方别墅契克斯就在附近。有同事开玩笑说，如果你在急诊值班，说不定哪天你的下一个病人就是首相。新冠期间，同事的玩笑差一点一语成谶，当然这是后话。
1. 山雨欲来
来英多年的人都会有这种感觉，这里的生活太平静了。尤其在这种大城市郊区，日子一天一天地过去，好像昨天跟今天没有什么区别，今天跟二十年前似乎也一样。万里之外发生的事情，一种新病毒的出现，听起来十分遥远。要是别人告诉你这个病毒会影响到地球上每个人的生活，那你肯定会怀疑那人的精神状态有问题。我 2 月份开始来到这个医院时，武汉已经封城了。英国上下总体的感觉是：这不过是另一个“非典”，中国肯定能把它控制住。所以英国这里的气氛一点都不紧张。不过华人当中已经有不少行动。有朋友开始给国内寄钱、寄口罩。小女儿和几个小朋友还一起拍了照片，给中国加油，给武汉加油。
随着时间推移，病例不断地在欧洲和美国出现。人们意识到这个病毒跟“非典”不太一样，控制措施似乎也不特别奏效。医院开始在大门口张贴告示：“发烧者如果最近两周内到过中国，请不要进医院，请打 111”。医院开始要求全体人员在院内佩戴口罩，另有专人纠正没有戴口罩的行为。传染科主任是个中国人，有一次他来查房，我们聊了一会儿。他说，“现在看起来这个病毒是个大问题，消灭不了的，而且迟早要到英国；疫情对社会冲击之大，目前仍然难以想像，有可能跟世界大战有一拼”。后来的事实证明他所言非虚！
3 月份，欧洲出现大面积爆发。医院开始腾病房，准备接受大批的病人。住院病人能回家的都回家了。突然间，病房变得空空荡荡的，大部分时间只有屈指可数的几个病人。有一天，一个病人都没有，我们几个住院医生围坐在办公桌旁边闲聊。大家都有些迷茫，忧心忡忡，谁都不知道将来会发生什么。那天，有一个专门做顶班的住院医生很是担心自己的收入。大部分的人则更担心自己和家人的健康，不知道能不能熬过这次瘟疫大流行。呼吸科的主任们突然特别出风头，到处张罗着给大家做讲座，介绍呼吸道传染病的救治。还告诫大家要节约用氧气，因为伦敦有家医院已经因为氧气供应问题，被迫关掉了急诊科。医院还安排给大家做面罩测试，以保证每个人都有适合自己脸型的 N95 面罩，让病毒颗粒不能进到面罩里。虽然政府说会保证供应，但实际情况是病房里 N95 面罩寥寥无几。
2. 首例
三月中下旬的一个周末，我在病房值班。前一天，病房收了一位六十多岁的男病号，发烧两天，伴随呼吸困难，最近有旅游史，本身还有肺间质病。作为一个高度可疑病例，已经给他做了鼻咽拭子，但结果要三天之后才能出来。早上护士告诉我病人的输液留置管堵了，让我给他换一个。我刚好要给他抽血，就准备了一下，拿了抽血和放置留置管的东西进去见他。他住在一个单间病房，但是由于他还没有确诊，我见他的时候还不能戴N95 口罩，也不能穿防护衣，只戴了个普通的外科口罩。他躺在病床上，鼻子上挂着高压氧管，60 升每分钟的氧气吹着，精神还不错。我操作的时候，他侃侃而谈。他是英国人，喜欢到世界各地旅游，去过亚洲很多国家，在泰国和马来西亚住了二三十年。现在年纪大了，跑不动了，就回到英国定居。他念念不忘亚洲的美食和东南亚的好天气。他没有家室，但有一个弟弟住在附近。他还说自己没有干净衣服了，他的弟弟过一会儿要给他送几件过来。操作一切都很顺利，我放了留置管，抽了血，跟他道别之后去做其它的事。
两个小时之后，护士突然叫我，说那个病人的氧饱合压降到 80% 多了。我跑过去一看果真如此：83%，他有明显的呼吸窘迫，而且已经昏迷不醒，对问话没有反应。情况不妙！我一边叫护士启动紧急救护机制呼叫急救队，一边找来主治医生做紧急处理。主治医生几分钟就到了，连忙进去看病人。急救队紧接着也到了，听我介绍完情况，队长说，“病人是高危患者，我们必须做好防护。”然后开始按照操作章程，有条不紊地给彼此穿防护衣，戴防护面罩，戴防护镜。看着他们一点儿都不紧张的样子，我站在那里，感觉像是等了好几个世纪那般漫长！当然，我知道他们这么做是对的。忙而不乱，才能保证高质量的抢救。他们进去之后我就站在门外，给他们传话，传递样品，读化验报告。他们忙活了半天，心肺复苏，扎动脉针，体外电击等等，病人依然没有好转。最后宣告死亡。
结束之后，急救队和在场的人到隔壁的办公室开了一个短会。这是本院第一起疑似新冠病人的心肺复苏救治。队长总结了经验和不足，然后告诫大家说，如果几天之内出现发烧要自我隔离，并且要及时向医院报告。当我送他们离开病房的时候，一个中年男人站在病房走廊的门口外，手里拎着一个包，说是给他哥哥送衣服的。他的哥哥就是这个病人。很显然他还不知道发生了什么，我报告了主治医生，她去跟病人家属通报消息。
这是本院第一个疑似新冠死亡病例。几个小时前，他还在跟我谈笑风生，然后就这样没有了。回到病房后，见到主管那个病人的护士在哭，主任在那里安慰她。这个主任是呼吸科的，一向不苟言笑，对下属以严厉著称，难得她竟然一改常态，关心和安慰下属。后来病人的检验结果出来了：新冠阳性。
3. “中招”
回家后，我跟家人讲了工作中发生的事，当下决定立遗嘱。在英国生活，按道理应该早立遗嘱。听朋友讲他的爱人去世，生前没有立遗嘱。他费尽了艰辛，一边忍受着失去亲人的痛苦，另一方面还要花钱花精力去办各种文书，因此他告诫我一定要早办。但工作生活，千头万绪，要找时间去办这个久远的事还真不容易，现在正好是个契机。第二天轮休，我就一不做二不休，找了两个朋友签了字。签字时颇有点“风萧萧兮易水寒，壮士一去兮不复还”的感觉。
第三天我回去上班，查房后去检查病历，突然感觉有点异样，瞬间有点眩晕感，步伐不稳；转身再走几步，又有同样的感觉。护士刚好在旁边给病人查体温，于是我借了她的体温计测了一下，37.6 度！医院前几天已经发了通知：一旦发烧，要马上停止工作，进行隔离。我就简单交代了一下，然后开车回家。到家后马上通知医院职业保健科，被告知要隔离七天。我询问能不能做咽试子检测，他们说不能。因为试剂有限，只有收住院的重症疑似病例才能做试子检测。我当天就把自己搬到了楼下的小书房，一个人用楼下的厕所。每天爱人用一次性餐具把饭放在门口，几天后我集中把垃圾拿出去扔了。小孩不能进入我的屋子，只能隔着门和我说话，很不开心。小女儿很喜欢跟别人拉拉抱抱，但当时姐姐住在学院，不能经常见面。现在爸爸又把自己关在小屋子里边，她很不高兴。
接下来的两三天，我的症状日渐加重，头重脚轻，浑身酸痛，全身无力。于是，我整天躺在床上休息。小书房只有两三平米大小，有一个小书桌和一张单人床。我睡醒的时候也是无所事事，不时地看到墙上的蜘蛛在忙碌，遥想着苏格兰国王罗伯特·布鲁斯受蜘蛛启发，卧薪尝胆，东山再起的故事。只是不知道还有没有机会“东山再起”了。各种各样的事情不停地在脑子里盘旋着。遗嘱立了，不用多想了；就想想自己的成长、学习和工作的经历。我在医学院毕业后决定作科研，硕士博士读完然后出国；科研多年之后又回到临床，没想到现在碰到新冠。想到自己万一遭遇不幸了，家人孩子们的未来怎么办。另外我还有些惴惴不安，担心自己在症状出现之前已经传染了家人和朋友。当然还有些侥幸：不会那么不走运吧？！
这些天，女儿时不时地在门外跟我讲话，有时还唱唱歌，这是那些天里我唯一的安慰！到第四天，病情开始好转，烧退了，胃口开始恢复。一周后完全康复，回去上班。家人和帮忙签遗嘱的朋友都没出现症状。从那时起，我决定把小书房作为我们家的半污染区。每天下班回到家的第一件事，就是去小书房换衣服，然后再出来，洗澡后才能给女儿一个大大的拥抱。因为我没有做咽试子测试，所以一直不算正式确诊。后来医院允许医护人员互相测试新冠抗体，我便让同事抽了血。第二天结果回来是阳性，才证明我之前的确得了新冠。
4. 潮起潮落
几天后，英国开始全国封城。我上班的路是通向伦敦的主要干线，平时车水马龙。现在宽宽的四车道上经常只有我一个人。超市开始出现抢购，医护人员下班晚，经常到超市时架子已经空了。一个护士哭着发了一个视频，说没能买到食物。视频上了电视后，大超市开始开放医护人员专场。我去过一次，长长的弯弯曲曲的队伍，大家在寒风中等着进场。还好政府很快把超市工作人员和货车司机定为关健岗位，封城期间可以正常上班，超市供应情况开始好转。再后来首相进了重症监护室，他发病时住在唐宁街，没在契克斯别墅，所以住进了伦敦圣托马斯医院，差一点儿就来了我所在的医院。
医院里气氛日趋紧张，全部工作都在为将要到来的疫情海啸做准备，已经很少见到非新冠病人了，偶而有非新冠病人收住院，最后也都转阳了。为了减少院内感染，医护人员都开始穿洗手衣，结果洗手衣紧俏。急诊科很不高兴，因为其他科室的人都来“偷”他们的洗手衣。最后医院给所有的医生都配发了洗手衣。女医生穿中国红色的洗手衣，还挺好看；男医生的洗手衣是棕褐色的，有人打趣说像大便的颜色。早晚交接班也成了问题。一开始试着在室外空地交接班，两天之后就停了：一来不能保障病人隐私，二来晚上十点钟在风中讲半个小时谁都受不了。最后权衡利弊之后，医院找了最大的屋子，要求每个人都戴口罩。虽然不能保证人与人之间都有两米的安全距离，但跟以前交接班摩肩擦踵的情况截然不同。
再后来，医院成了感染的重灾区，感染新冠的医护人员越来越多。不断有消息说，哪个科的医生、护士进了监护室。后来一个护士染疫后抢救失败，不幸去世了。他是菲律宾人，正值壮年，留下老婆孩子走了。安葬那天，他的灵车绕着医院大楼缓缓地转了一圈，全院的员工能走开的全都出来给他送行，不少人泪流满面。我们科也有一个护士长进了监护室，幸运的是她后来康复了。每个人都觉得死神就在离自己不远的地方徘徊。5 月份情况开始好转，大潮渐退。新冠开始渐少，其他病人开始增多，我们的培训也慢慢回到正轨。之后，我申请了全科医生（GP）培训，成功地被录取到了离家比较近的地方。8 月初，我告别了这家医院，进入了新的岗位。
有人说，在时代的大潮下，每个人都像一粒小沙子，微不足道。新冠让每个人都体会到了生命的脆弱。疫情中，我见到了无数的生离死别，无数次在电话里感受病人家属的焦急和无奈，无数次在病人眼中看到绝望和无助，无数次怀疑自己作为医生的工作价值。见到一个个鲜活的生命逝去，确实让人更珍惜自己所拥有的一切，珍惜跟家人在一起的每一分钟，珍惜生命中的每一点 “奢侈”。
作者介绍
亦文，国内医学院毕业，免疫学博士。在牛津大学从事科研多年，现为全科医生（GP）。
Both the Chinese and English editions of Haha! Britain can be purchased at the following platforms:
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