Pocket Profiles: Earthquake In Iran

At 5:28 a.m. on December 26, 2003, while many in the West were still enjoying their Christmas celebration, an earthquake that registered 6.3 on the Richter scale shook the town of Bam, Iran, an oasis in the desert of southern Persia. As its denizens still slept, or were just rising to a new day, their world ended. The death toll continues to rise toward the 50,000 mark, the injury toll to 20,000.

Because I donate about two months of my time every year to the medical and surgical care of people in need around the world, I was contacted by the disaster relief coordinator of my church denomination a few days after the quake, who requested that I join a medical team being recruited to serve the people of Bam. And less than a week later, I was on my way to the scene of this terrible tragedy.

Setting up shop in a parking lot

The small advance team that had preceded us wandered like nomads in the desert just outside the earthquake epicenter in the city to find a site to set up. Finally, the Bam Relief Headquarters assigned us a spot in the parking lot of a now-empty amusement park, as the last in a line of international tent enclaves, just adjacent to the makeshift Ukrainian clinic and hospital (Fig. 1). There, we pitched our tents—five to house personnel, including our translators, one for a pharmacy where two of us slept at night to guard the medical supplies from pillaging, and three large ones for examination and treatment, the smallest of which doubled for lodging after hours.

Fig. 1: We set up our tent clinic in the parking lot of an empty amusement park.

The suffering was beyond comprehension, and when our own tears interfered with our medical duties, we took turns leaving the clinic tents to find a a quiet place to weep. The residents of Bam flocked to our clinic in increasing numbers, waiting all day in the wind storms, sun, and rain for the medical help and comfort we offered. We gave more than medications and bandages—we gave ourselves. The Iranians knew it and left with the assurance that God had not forsaken them but had sent us as ambassadors of His care.

Within two weeks, our limited staff had treated more than 1500 people with a variety of injuries and conditions related to the quake and its aftermath. The victims were wrapped in unimaginable grief over their loss, and terror that every wind shaking their tents could be the tremor of another earthquake.

Powering an invaluable medical tool

Providing good medical care in this setting was a major challenge. In my surgical practice stateside, I depend heavily on my Toshiba e335 Pocket PC (Fig. 2) as a medical resource and knew from my experience on earlier relief trips that it would be an invaluable tool in this setting.

Fig. 2: I depended on the Toshiba e335 during my work in Iran.

The destruction of Bam was almost complete, and I was anticipating the site to be even more rugged than the locales I normally visit and without electricity. The e335 comes with a non-replaceable battery, and I was especially concerned about my ability to keep it charged. Failure to do so would not only result in the loss of personal data, it would result in the loss of a vital medical tool!