Early on the morning of May 4, Wuhan Railway Central Hospital received an emergency notice from Beijing: a suspected SARS patient with a fever of 39 degrees centigrade left an isolation ward without permission and was thought to be on the T79 train from Beijing to Wuchang. Nurse Ouyang Qin, 18, was woken up and asked to help find the person on the train. This is her story.

Frankly speaking, I was extremely nervous when I was given the task at first. It had been less than six months since I had graduated from nursing school. The age of eighteen is just a flower season in my life. But even though I am not a veteran medical worker, I do know what SARS means.

To find the suspected patient amongst hundreds of travelers on the train was like searching for a "time bomb" as I knew I might be infected and isolated at any time. For me loneliness is the most horrible thing. If I was isolated, my mother would be terrified within an inch of her life because I am her only daughter.

Travelers took their children and packages and rushed onto the train coaches at 7:20 am. I discarded all my worries and distracting thoughts as it was so dangerous that the suspected patient could be among the crowd. But since I was there, I wanted to be realistic. I searched several areas together with the train operator, hoping to find the patient before the train left the station.

I had no time to rest. After a time, my isolation clothes and gauze mask were soaked with sweat. My legs ached from walking. However we had yet to find the patient. I felt unbearable thirsty. So I went back to the rest coach and tore off my gauze mask, and drank a glass of water in one. I got a feeling that I have never had before: water is the best drink in the world!

It seemed that we failed to find the patient before the train started its engine. But everybody kept their chin up. I had only one thought in my mind: find him as soon as possible and no more SARS infection.

The train moved off at 8:05 am. We started our second search. According to the notice, the patient was 55 years old. So we kept close eye on male travelers above 40. I started at the end of the train and, coach by coach, observed every traveler carefully. Most of them wore gauze masks and some had closed their eyes and dozed off. It was hard to tell their age or if they were ill from their faces.

I walked very slowly in the narrow passageway between the passengers and their luggage, examining their tickets and certificates and registering their information.

You might never know it but the suspected patient was probably among them. Despite the face-to-face contact, I tried to suppress my fear and remain relaxed as so many travelers looked at me in my white isolation clothes; amongst which I noticed a little baby with innocent eyes in the arms of a middle-aged woman.

I knew that I was carrying out an important task which had a great deal to do with hundreds of people's health and safety.

About three or four hours passed with no result. We had basically ruled out the possibility of the existence of the suspected patient on the train and reported this to higher authorities. After a spell of emergency observation, I was tired and longed to sleep.

The train operator got an emergency message at 11:50 am that there was a patient with a fever and cough on the train from Handan Station and was due to get off at Anyang Station. That meant we had only one hour to find the traveler.

To be honest, I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown at that time. How could an emergency situation happen twice on the same train and both be dealt with by me?

While I noticed the train operator and my colleagues discussing their plan and preparing for the next observation, I realized I was weak-willed.

Without hesitation, I put on my isolation clothes, wore my gauze mask, and went back into the traveler coach.

This time, it only took us a little while to find the patient in No. 16 coach. We took his temperature and inquired about his contact experience on the one hand, and explained to the travelers not to be panic on the other. Soon we applied the necessary measures to the patient as well as those who had had close contact with him. The travelers then calmed down.

The train stopped at Anyang Station. The station had been closed and there were three ambulances parked at the platform. Medical workers were waiting for us.

Suddenly I realized that everyone in the battle against SARS was really trying their best. The most horrible thing, to me, is not SARS itself but the attitude of retreat and abjuration that has accompanied the disaster. After this incident, I really understood a simple principle: victory only comes from self-confidence and sustained effort.

On the second day after returning to Wuhan, I didn't go home but went on the train to Beijing again to provide medical service. This time, I felt lighter and easier

(China.org.cn translated by Li Xiao, May 22, 2003)