More than 40 diaries, hours of recollection after shifts, a sweat-soaked uniform and a phrase that changes everything: “I was once a family member of an ICU patient”

As reported by CCTV+, Sun Guotao, a male nurse at the Center of Critical Care Medicine of the First Hospital Affiliated to the Army Medical University, records “missing moments” for his patients. He fills the gaps in their memories with diary entries.

Two years ago, while still an intern at a hospital in Lanzhou, Sun began using his free time to write diaries. He described what patients experienced while they were unconscious in the ICU.

After graduating last year and joining the First Hospital Affiliated to the Army Medical University, he carried this habit with him.

“The ICU is an isolated place. No family members, no friends. Patients may experience pain from various invasive procedures. After being discharged from the ICU, they may show symptoms of anxiety or depression. This can have a significant psychological impact. As an observer, writing those moments into a diary for them may serve as a source of encouragement,” Sun explains.

ICU work has always been high-intensity. Every two hours — turning patients, patting their backs. Constantly watching vital signs on monitors. By the end of a shift, Sun’s uniform is often soaked through with sweat.

Sun has completed diaries for over 40 patients. Before each entry, he seeks the family’s consent. He started by writing by hand, then switched to a computer. In addition to recording facts, he pastes photos of key moments.

“After work, I may spend one or two hours recalling what happened to the patients that day and what their family members said. Sometimes I would use my phone to record. If I’m unsure about something, I would ask the doctor in charge or check the medical records.”

Patient Xiao Dandan was admitted to the ICU due to an acute heart attack over a month ago. Her condition was critical. She was groggy and connected to numerous medical tubes. When she fully regained consciousness, she simply could not recall that time — until she opened the diary.

Xiao Dandan’s husband said that during her days in the ICU, he could only see her for a little over ten minutes each day through the visitation window. The diary filled in the days and nights he could not witness and the moments he could not be by her bedside.

Now, Sun no longer works alone. His colleagues wholeheartedly support him and have formed an “ICU Diary Group.” They take turns taking photos, taking notes, and organizing records for patients. What started as one person writing has become a collective effort. The diary has turned nursing theory into reality. Studies have shown that ICU diaries can effectively reduce the incidence of post-traumatic stress disorder in patients, as well as alleviate anxiety and depression.

Sun recalls how his own mother was once in the ICU. That experience gave him deeper empathy for patients’ family members.

“I was once a family member of an ICU patient. When I was in middle school, my mother was also in the ICU. Now, I can understand what family members are going through, both from a patient’s perspective and from a medical worker’s perspective. We not only need to be skilled medical personnel, but also must offer warmth to our patients. I want to be a nurse who brings warmth to patients,” Sun says.

He writes diaries between injections, ventilators and sweat-soaked uniforms. Not for science. Not for a report. But so that a person waking up from a coma does not feel lost in a void. 40 diaries. Hundreds of hours after shifts. And one simple truth: sometimes pills are powerless. But words are not. The question is not how many more nurses will do this.

The question is how many patients will be able to say: “I remember. Thank you for writing it down.” Because in the ICU, they fight not only disease. They fight oblivion. And Sun Guotao is winning that battle. Line by line.