On January 26, members of the national medical team take a group photo at the Beijing Capital International Airport before their departure to Wuhan in Hubei Province to fight the novel coronavirus outbreak. The team included doctors from Peking University People's Hospital (XINHUA) 

On the eve of Lunar New Year in 2020, it occurred to me that the novel coronavirus opened the Pandora's Box and unleashed a public health crisis in Wuhan, the hardest hit Chinese city by the epidemic. A wave of extreme uneasiness wrapped everyone since the spread of the epidemic was incredibly rapid and discreet.  

On January 26, the first medical team of Peking University People's Hospital rushed to Wuhan to treat patients contracted the novel coronavirus disease (COVID-19). Their determination and bravery made my heart flutter, and then I decided to join the battle when I was informed on February 2 that another batch of medical teams would be formed soon. My wife helped me pack luggage and bought disposable items that might be useful.  

On February 7, I left my house for the hospital at 5 a.m. It was cold and dark outside. Members of the third batch of medical teams quickly assembled at the hospital. Prior to our departure, Jiang Baoguo, president of the hospital, boosted our morale with rousing remarks. I was brimming with ambition, strength and power.  

As I was looking down at the sea of clouds below me from the plane, I thought of my father. When the severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS) broke out in China in 2003, my father, as the head of his department, rushed to the frontline on the first notice and took charge of the imageological diagnosis of patients. I remembered witnessing this when I was 13, and thus hoping to become someone like him, a white-clad warrior who saved the lives of many. My father had passed away before he could see me dress in the same white gown he once did. But it did not matter, because I had never felt so close to him as I did then.   

At 3 p.m., we arrived in Wuhan. Walking out of the eerily quiet airport lobby, I was greeted by a piercing wind. It was the first time that I had ever been to Wuhan, and it was also the first time that I had felt such bitter, chilly air. 

On the way to the hotel, there were no other cars or people on the street. Through the windows of the residential buildings we passed by, not a single moving figure could be seen. The whole city seemed to have stopped living. It was hard to imagine the once bustling metropolis had turned into a lifeless ghost town in such a brief amount of time. Everyone felt nervous in the overwhelming ominous atmosphere. 

After arriving at the hotel, our whole team immediately received emergency training. We were introduced with details regarding the conditions of the medical wards and given updated information about the patients. We also received training on personal protection and precautions. 

The battle begins  

On the next day, our team visited the newly established intensive care unit (ICU) ward at the Tongji Hospital. When we arrived, the team leader and the hospital support staff were still busy making final adjustments to the medical equipment and the information system. 

Immediately, everyone on the team was busy with their respective tasks: doctors were managing the medical record system, while nurses were busy inspecting medical instruments and checking the drugs. We were all busy preparing for the impending battle ahead. It took only 24 hours for the ICU to be fully prepared for incoming patients! 

Around 10 p.m., the first wave of patients streamed into the ICU, signaling the beginning of our battle. I entered the changing room prior to their arrival, wearing protective clothing, gloves, shoe covers, goggles and face shields. Everyone on our team checked up on each other for any misplacement or gaps in our safety equipment. It became evident to us all that the following days at the hospital would be challenging. 

In order to enter the contaminated zone, we had to go through four buffer zones and five protective doors. For safety, the team members made sure we entered the ward in separate groups. Tension was building up with every door that was opened in front of us.   

A dynamic Wuhan returns  

Through continuous and valiant efforts, many patients gradually recovered. Patients started to be discharged from the hospital on February 21. It was definitely a hard-earned milestone. 

The work went on, and before I realized, the last day of February had quickly arrived. I turned 30 on March 1, and I spent my birthday on the frontline combating COVID-19 with my fellow colleagues. In the past, I usually made self-deprecating jokes claiming that I was an old millennial.  What was more exciting to me was that on March 15, 14 days after my birthday, Chinese President Xi Jinping wrote a letter to the post-90s generation in the medical teams of Peking University and extended sincere greetings to the young people working in various positions to prevent and control the pandemic. As a member of this age group, I was lucky to receive a reply from President Xi and it was an honor and a privilege to be recognized and encouraged by him! 

In his letter, President Xi encouraged us to serve the people, strive to improve our skills through hard work, and develop our capability through practice. As a medical worker and a millennial, I am bound by my duty to serve my country and the people with my knowledge and skills. While I was working in Wuhan, I was frequently touched by the friendship that existed all around me. Over the course of my time in Wuhan, I took notice of the little things that mattered, and I was constantly reminded of how united China has become when we were all fighting the same battle. 

As the weather in Wuhan started to get warm, I saw the early cherry blossoms on the sides of the road on my way to work. I did not know exactly when they started to blossom, but just like when silver linings appear in dire times, new life always emerges when least expected. Before we all realized, spring had arrived and transformed Wuhan into a lively, cheerful, and resilient city we once knew. 

The author is an attending physician with the Trauma Rescue and Treatment Center of Peking University People's Hospital