October 30, 2005

Dear praying Friends,

We continue to hear many tragic tales from earthquake victims. Most are told without tears, out of a kind of emotional numbness. This is beginning to wear off, and their true heartbreak is showing through. So many have lost homes, animals, shops, occupation, and many loved ones. This of course is the greatest blow in this society, which is strongly family-oriented. Several times when a patient has accounted for spouse and children being safe, we have made the mistake of saying, "Thank God your whole family was spared." "Oh no!" they hastily say. "I lost (25, 30, or 40) of my uncles, aunts, cousins, in-laws and others closely related to us. We all live in the same cluster of homes and have done everything together. When the earthquake came, our homes, which are built on terraces one above another, collapsed right down the mountainside onto one another. So many of our close relatives were trapped and killed. We were able to dig out the bodies of some and bury them, but others have heavy beams or concrete slabs on top of them. We have been unable to recover their bodies."

There have been 880 aftershocks since the earthquake, some strong enough to be counted as earthquakes in their own right. One day we had four quakes of more than 5.4 magnitude on the Richter scale. This keeps everyone jittery and full of fear. In this town of Qalandarabad no homes fell but some walls fell and others are cracked and some of the people are sleeping outside in tents rather than risk having damaged walls fall on them when there is a severe aftershock. One can't help but wonder what is going on deep down and when it might get worse.

One woman whose house was beside a school (both of which had collapsed on many people), told us that the area had been declared a "martyrs graveyard" because they had been unable to dig out most of the bodies and planned to leave them there.

Gulnaz

Gulnaz (9 years old) came to Bach Hospital from another hospital where her leg had been amputated below the knee. Her uncle brought her because her mother was taking care of two other injured sisters in that hospital. Her only brother died when his school collapsed. Gulnaz appeared badly frightened, jerking uncontrollably and crying for her mother. It was found that she had developed tetanus, having never been inoculated. Later we heard that 30 patients in that other hospital had died of tetanus. Her mother came to care for her since her sisters recovered enough to be discharged. She was widowed four years ago and now has no home for herself and three daughters.

Sajjid

Sajjid, an 8-year-old boy in the third grade, was on the second story of his school when it collapsed, killing many friends and his 6-year-old brother. His father was cutting grass on the hillside when a landslide swept him away. His body has never been found. An uncle working in the Emirates flew home and brought Sajjid to this hospital. He seemed unhurt physically but cried so loudly they put him in a private room. He wouldn't talk, ate very little, and walked with tiny steps only when held up. They suspected a head injury but a CAT scan revealed nothing. Fred tried in vain to interest him with toys or to get him to talk. Nothing brought any response. We could only pray.

Two days ago Sajjid's uncle told us excitedly, "He asked for juice today. That is the first time he has talked in 21 days” (since the earthquake on October 8). We showed him a picture, and he reached out and took it, looking at it with some interest, but still no talk.

Shad Bibi

Shad Bibi (which means “happy one”) always greeted me with a wide smile. The smile never left when she shared that her husband and 11-year-old daughter were both killed in the earthquake. She has one small daughter left and is six months pregnant. An ultrasound revealed the baby is dead. Her leg has multiple fractures and has been fitted with an external set of bars and screws to keep it in line. Still, she kept smiling. Until yesterday. When I started to pray for her, suddenly her face crumpled and she began to sing a song of mourning for her lost ones. She sang in a beautiful high voice. The song was interrupted frequently by weeping and mentioning things remembered about the loved ones. I thanked God as I sat beside her, hugging her. At last reality has come and she is able to express her true heartbreak for those she has lost. Her healing has begun.

Sincerely,

Fred and Margie Stock