1) To the affected areas.

March 11, 2:46PM.  The Tohoku Pacific Earthquake.


To all those in the affected areas, and to all those who are not in those areas but are affected by the disaster in many ways—I sincerely wish that you will be able to restore your daily lives as soon as possible.  And to the great many who have passed away, I pray that you will rest in peace, from the bottom of my heart.


There is a reason why I have decided to temporarily bring back this blog that I've left unattended for so long.

On March 15, a disaster medical assistance team was assembled at the hospital where I work.

I was among those dispatched to the affected areas from our emergency unit, and it is my hope that I can somehow convey in my own words what I saw, what I felt, and all the things that I could do nothing about as a member of the first team that went in from the 16th to the 23rd.


Not that I was trying to act the saint, but as the effects of the disaster spread further and further, and watching so many people cry, I had been thinking since the day of that earthquake about what I could do and should do “now,” at this very moment.  Given my profession, I felt certain that I could surely do something to help, and when this opportunity arose, I thought, “This is it!”


On the day before departure, we were given handouts and held a meeting.  The handout said that there was no need to include our wallets and money when we pack for the mission.  There is no use for money there, we should expect to miss meals and sleep, and disaster victims are to be given higher priority for the use of temporary lavatories.

And a word from the person from another hospital who will be supervising us as the lead nurse:

“The situation over there is beyond your worst imagination.  If any of you have signed up with optimistic outlooks or from the spirit of volunteerism, please leave the team now.
     No matter what happens at the site, DO NOT CRY.  We are not going there to express our sympathy.  We are going there to provide nursing and medical care.  If you think YOU want to cry, think about how much the people there want to cry.  The tears of a rich medical team from Tokyo will only be bothersome or even insulting to them.”

Being rather spineless, I was already feeling pretty gloomy at this point.

A nurse from my hospital who always has full makeup on was addressed by name.

“Don’t even think about wearing make-up there.”


After the meeting, I returned to my apartment and sent e-mails to friends to ease my anxiety and made proclamations about going to the affected areas to pull myself together.  I also made myself eat two whole servings of tsuke-men noodles, because I probably won’t be able to eat anything warm for a while.  (´｀)


My parents’ house was also damaged from the earthquake, and I wanted to go and check the situation, but the trains were still down and I couldn’t go home.  I called my mother and told her I was going to head for the affected areas tomorrow as part of a medical team, and I felt that she gave me a push forward.

She said, “The whole family’s fine.  Go help all those people who are really having a rough time,” and it really made me feel so much better.


Of course, on the night before departure, I checked my baggage countless times and couldn’t get any sleep with all these thoughts about what will begin tomorrow before morning came.


So the reason why I’ve temporarily resumed by blog is because I thought that if I’m going there to provide medical assistance, I must also tell everyone about what I saw and felt.  I decided to keep a journal in my cell phone at the end of each day, and to put it all here when I come back.

I came face to face with so many things that are really hard to put into words, though, so I don’t think this will get across very well, but here goes nothing…





Next entry: 2) Myself on Day One.





Translated March 27, minor edits April 7.
Original entry in Japanese: １、被災地へ。