WUHAN, Feb. 27 (Xinhua) -- Sun Dianpeng, 25, wrote "Happy Valentine's Day" in Chinese on the back of his protective suit on Feb. 14.
"There are no single girls in the wards. It won't work," one of his colleagues quipped.
"What if some auntie likes me and introduces a girl to me?" Sun replied with a smile.
He is one of the only two male emergency nurses with the Central Hospital of Dandong, northeast of China's Liaoning Province. As a member of the medical team assigned from Liaoning to Hubei, the epicenter of the novel coronavirus outbreak, he now works in the Renmin Hospital of Wuhan University.
On Jan. 26, he offered to go to the "battlefield" in Wuhan as the epidemic swept across the country.
When he was on the night shift in the emergency room at around 10 p.m. of Feb. 1, Sun was suddenly informed by the head nurse the team was leaving for Wuhan early the next morning.
With both excitement and nervousness, he packed his luggage and did not go to bed until 3 a.m. the next day, he said. For fear that his parents would not sleep well, he did not inform them immediately.
When he got up at 6 a.m., he called his mother and asked her not to see him off. However, before his departure, the worried parents drove for more than an hour to say goodbye to their son.
"We never thought that you would go to the front lines. No matter how dangerous it is, we support you, but please call us every day to let us know you're ok," said his mother with tears welling up in her eyes.
"When SARS broke out 17 years ago, the whole world was protecting the post-90s (people born between 1990 and 1999). Now, it's time for us, who have become the backbone of society, to guard your health!" Sun posted on his WeChat before boarding the plane to Wuhan.
To his surprise, he received more than 900 replies, including hundreds of likes, comments and private messages.
"Come back safe and sound, and I will 'marry' you," many friends joked.
On his first day in the intensive care unit of the hospital in Wuhan, it took him a long time just to put on his protective gear, including goggles, splash-resistant mask and isolation gown. When the outermost protective suit was put on, he could barely bend down.
The thick protective gear made it impossible for him to drink water or use the restroom, and even left him with chest distress and headaches and made him want to vomit after four hours of continuous work. He had to leave the ward early on the first day, with blisters on his nose.
Now Sun could handle his work with relative ease, although he still ends the day soaked in sweat.
However, in Sun's eyes, what he is going through is nothing compared with the patients.
Several days ago, a female patient told him both her husband and son were also hospitalized. This was the reality of many families in Wuhan suffering from the virus. At that moment, tears blurred his eyes behind the goggles.
This made Sun more determined to do the utmost to look after the patients in severe condition in the wards.
The Chinese word written on Sun's protective suit attracted the attention of a grandma receiving high flow oxygen therapy in the ward on Feb. 14. "It is Valentine's Day today," Sun explained.
"I only know today is my birthday, and I don't know when I will go back home," the 70-year-old patient said.
Upon hearing this, Sun immediately invited some of his colleagues, all in their protective gear, to stand by the bed and sing a birthday song for her. After the "celebration," she asked Sun for the birthday video they took, saying it was her most special birthday.
As time went on, the content written or drawn on the protective clothing of the medical workers became more and more diversified.
Once, the slogan on Sun's suit was changed to "Be together with Wuhan." A female patient said to him, "Thank you for being with us. Your northeast accent sounds really sweet."
