Infected doctors who survived SARS would go to the frontline again if possible
Global Times
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Doctors check the information of patients in Leishenshan Hospital of Wuhan, Central China's Hubei Province, the epicenter of the COVID-19 outbreak. (Photo: Global Times)

He bears gratitude and is willing to join the battle against COVID-19

"Crawling out from the hell of SARS, I got a deathless cancer and might have ended up with a wheelchair for the rest of my life," Yue Chunhe told the Global Times.

Yue, a doctor at Beijing Tongren Hospital, was infected with SARS on April 27, 2003 during his shift in the emergency room.

The deathless cancer Yue mentioned is osteonecrosis of the femoral head (ONFH), a sequela of SARS due to the overdose of methylprednisolone during SARS treatment, an affliction that plagued most of survivors of SARS.

Yue was discharged from Beijing Xiaotangshan Hospital on May 31, 2003. Three months later, he was confirmed with ONFH.

"I was only 32 when I got the result, and it was so sad when it occurred to me that my whole life might be confined in a wheelchair," said Yue.

In addition to ONFH, Yue also suffered from pulmonary fibrosis, another sequela of SARS.

After spending a year in a wheelchair, the health authority of Beijing started to organize more than 100 medical staff, who were infected during the fight against SARS for physical therapy in a sanatorium of Beijing's Changping district, where they accepted free treatment including acupuncture, hot spring and massage therapy.

Unlike some of his peers, Yue's condition was not fatal. After a year in a wheelchair and two years of double crutches, he was able to walk. 

Yue said it was his family that inspired him to walk out of the darkness, adding that it was twice "turning back" that gave him power to dispel the emotional baggage he associated with being disabled at such a young age.

At first, Yue kept his medical condition from his mother. 

But when day when he was lying in bed, his mother came to visit. "I saw a nuance of sadness on her face and she turned back walking out of the bedroom," he said. "She didn't want me to see her tears."

It was on that day Yue knew his mother cried everyday beside a river during his 36 days of hospitalization, and he promised himself to stay strong for the people that love him.

In 2004 he just started using double crutches. It was difficult for him to walk onto the stairs in front of his apartment. His 4-year-old son looked up to his face and said "Dad, put your hand on my shoulder."

"I burst into tears at that moment and I turned my back to hide my tears from him," Yue sobbed. 

"Other children at his age were enjoying their parents accompany, while my son was thinking about taking care of his father," he said.

He said these events shocked him and allowed him to let go of his pain and sadness and instead think about assuming his familial responsibilities as a son, a father, and a husband.

In 2006, Yue started his postgraduate studies, and obtained his psychological counselor's license.

He expressed content with his life as he still gets a salary from the hospital despite not attending his job after getting infected with SARS. But people around him never treated him differently. He even got a promotion.

"I am full of gratitude that my department would solve any problem I came across, and appreciate for all the compensation from the society and preferential policies from the government," Yue told the Global Times.

In addition to safety, Yue said that he is concerned about the psychological status of the medical staff in Wuhan, capital of Central China's Hunan Province, as well as the frontlines in the struggle against the COVID-19 pneumonia.

Yue said that he is still willing to help fight against the epidemic as a psychological counselor to the medical staff in Wuhan.

Events in Wuhan give her nightmares about SARS

Wu Zhen was infected with SARS during her internship as a physician in the emergency room of Peking University People's Hospital.

"I had no idea about how I got infected until my internship mentor told me it was from a pneumonia patient I received in my last night shift," Wu told the Global Times. She was treated at Beijing Xiaotangshan Hospital.

After 40 days of treatment, 26-year-old Wu was the last patient discharged from the quickly-built hospital designated to receive SARS patients. After resting for two weeks, Wu returned to her job in a private hospital in Beijing's Fengtai district.

"I heard about some patients suffered ONFH after being rescued from the fatal virus, but I never thought I would be haunted by the sequela since I was so young. I had no symptoms before October of 2003 when I was diagnosed of ONFH," said Wu.

All of her joints were damaged except for her elbow joints. "I saw my that bones were densely scattered with holes of various sizes in film," she said.

In December 2006, Wu's symptom worsened so much she couldn't even walk. She had no choice but accepted hip joints replacement surgery, but the implanted bones were also infected.

She became disabled and was rehabilitated from hospital to hospital until she had a second surgery in 2009. During that time, her boyfriend left her.

Years of disability and financial burden made Wu suffer from severe depression. The surgery was covered by insurance. However, her low salary was far from enough to support her daily life.

Relevant policy requires hospitals to provide infected medical staff salaries that are not less than their peers with the same title, but Wu has been only paid as low as some 2,000 yuan ($286) monthly.

"The country has good policies for us, but the implementation varies from hospital to hospital," said Wu, whose application to return to work was also declined many times.

"I had to put up 120 percent courage every time before stepping in that hospital to refund my medications, which is covered by insurance but the paperwork had to be processed through the hospital," said Wu.

For a long time, she depended on her father's small pension. Some of her neighbors would have liked to support her but were initially afraid of getting infected. "They placed some fruit and vegetable in front of my door, knocked, and left," Wu recalled.

She got married in 2017 and now is a mother of a 1-year-old girl. The marriage was a turning point of Wu's life, as her husband supports her greatly both mentally and financially.

Talking about her daughter, a beam of smile showed on her face. "She saved me from my depression and brought the long over-due happiness to my 70-year-old parents" said Wu, adding that they do most of the babysitting.

After years of fighting against the sequela and depression from SARS, her ambition for a medicine career is still alive. She got her license as a psychological counselor in 2009, hoping to help those who suffering from depression since she had years of experience in fighting depression.

Now Wu is learning traditional Chinese medicine (TCM). 

"Turning from a doctor to a patient, my years of treatment told me that in many cases when Western medicine's hands were tied, TCM can help a lot," she said. 

"It's maybe difficult for me to obtain a TCM diploma, but at least I can help myself and my families," she said.

It seems that people have forgotten the fatal epidemic in 2003. After the COVID-19 broke out, Wu has been haunted by those nightmares and became anxious about the safety of the medical staff working in Wuhan.

"I haven't really been in the frontline of fighting against SARS, but I can feel their fear, pressure, and fatigue there," she said.

Some medical staff who survived the SARS said on their social media account that if they didn't have parents and children to support, they wouldn't give it a second thought to go to the frontline again.

"I think we would do it again, if we are needed and able to," Wu said.