Translated Content:
Etemad newspaper reports on the life of Dr. Marzieh Asgari, who was martyred along with her family in the Israeli attack. The newspaper wrote: Her diary used to contain the narrative of her days and plans for the future. Who was she? A physician, assistant professor of neonatal medicine at Tehran University of Medical Sciences and a member of the faculty of Bahrami Hospital of the university. Her name? Marzieh Asghari. Place of service? Bahrami Hospital. Place of martyrdom? A 14-story residential building in Shahid Chamran town. Date of martyrdom? The morning of June 13, 2025, the first day of the start of the Israeli war against Iran. The day Marzieh went to the 14-story building in Shahid Chamran town to visit her parents and stayed the night at her father's house, she had taken her diary with her as always, to write her plans and memories in it, as she always did every day. Since that day, that diary, filled with chaos, has never been opened by her hands, and no other lines of it have been filled with her familiar handwriting. Why? Because the diary was with her, and after the missile hit, it burned down along with Dr. Asgari and her family, and in fact, the fire of the diary ended the diary. In the photos and images that one of Dr. Marzieh Asgari's colleagues and husband sends of her, she is so oppressed that if you look closely, you can even hear her voice of oppression through the photos. She would finish every task that was left on the ground without hesitation, sometimes crying over the sick baby until morning and staying awake until his breath caught up with the morning. She would make a vow so that the babies could return to life. Almost everyone who knows her has said this, including her sister, a colleague, a resident, and one of my acquaintances who, in the early days when the global internet was still connected, wrote this sentence in response to the publication of her picture on Instagram Story: "She was a very good doctor. Samin, when he was a child, would answer my questions without hesitation through my friend. My friend says she made a vow for her patients.” She had returned from death Dr. Marzieh Asgari had gone through difficult circumstances three years ago and had once come close to death. At the same time, she had told her sister that she had seen death: “It would have been better for my sister to die like this if she had been martyred while giving birth to her child. When her child was about to be born, she had a cardiac arrest and went into a coma; she even died and told me that she had seen me die, but God brought her back to us. She went through a very difficult time, and for two or three months, when the left side of her body was paralyzed, life became very difficult for her.” This time, however, she did not return and went to the eternal world with her mother, father, and three-year-old child. Dr. Maryam Vaisizadeh says about those days: “She had a difficult pregnancy, and after giving birth, she had problems and was admitted to the ICU. "She also had a stroke, but both the doctor and her daughter miraculously came back to life, and in those days I really didn't think I would see the doctor again." Jamshid Barzegar, the husband of Dr. Marzieh Asgari, sends a video of their child, Zahra, which is now being passed around in their family groups. A curly-haired girl who was only three years old and, according to her aunt, had just reached the time of her sweet talk. In the short video, Zahra walks around the room and sings the song "O Iran, O Border of the Fars": "O enemy, you are a thorny rock, I am iron / I will sacrifice my life for the pure soil of my homeland..." Zahra's body was found earlier than the rest of the family, among the rubble, stones, and wood, in another room because she had been sleeping in another room.
It was normal for her to get twenty.
She was born on the thirteenth of January 1984 and was killed on the 23rd of Khordad 1404 by a rocket. Since childhood, she loved to study and would go through her books several times for exams and competitions. She loved to save people, so she chose medicine and continued it as long as she could. Her sister says: "She was studious and diligent since childhood. For example, in the fifth grade, she read all her books from night to morning for the school science competition and then came first. She was always first in the competitions and got so many 20s that he said, 'I'm tired of it, 20s have become repetitive for me.' Her whole life was about studying. When she chose medicine, we said it was hard and you'd get annoyed. She could have studied other fields like radiology or dentistry, but she loved medicine and wanted to save people. At every stage of her education when he wanted to advance, we told her that it was enough, but she wouldn't accept it. When she wanted to specialize, we said, 'Leave it, go open a clinic and work,' but she wouldn't be satisfied." Anyway, she studied medicine at Tehran University and had some tough courses. When she got his specialization, she said she would like to study again and applied for a residency in neonatology. Medicine in the field of neonatology is very difficult, because newborns do not speak, so a neonatologist must have a very high level of education to be able to diagnose a problem, and it seems like she has to study medicine again. Even after she got her specialization, she was still studying and always keeping herself up to date." It was a lesson in ethics for residents. It had been a year since Marzieh Asgari had been an assistant professor and faculty member, and she had several residents under her supervision from morning to afternoon. She had told them that they should contact her whenever any problem arose or if they had any questions. Mehdi Niknejad, who had been training under her as a pediatric resident since the first of June, also confirmed these words in an interview with "Etemad": "In terms of calm behavior, poise, the way she works and treats residents and students, I have rarely seen a professor like her. Her way of working and teaching was very promising for us, and she always tried to make time for us and work with us on topics that few people would have made time for in those busy times. During my studies, if I had to name three professors, one of them would definitely be Professor Asgari." Like other students, colleagues, and those who knew the doctor, he was shocked the day he heard the news: "The day we started the NICU, he called us first and after introducing us, he said that if you had any questions, you could call me at any time of the day, whether I was on duty or not, and that was reassuring for us." Niknejad also saw firsthand how important the lives of newborns were to the doctor during this time: "One of the newborns who was hospitalized in the NICU was in a very bad state and his condition had become very complicated. I remember that after talking to the baby's parents, the doctor got angry and tears welled up in her eyes when she spoke to me and said, "I can't say such a thing to the baby's parents and tell them that your baby has this problem and is in a bad state." She was so moved that she couldn't continue talking. This identification with the baby's parents was a moral lesson for us." She had developed all aspects of her existence. In the eyes of her sister, she was an earthly angel and had developed herself in all aspects of his existence, meaning that her whole life was not just about studies. She cared about his health, exercised, and always prayed early. She was always praying, sharing secrets, and helping many people. Until a few days ago, the family didn't know how many children she had under his care. She loved martyrs and constantly went to the tombs of the unknown martyrs and talked to them. "Everything was complete and he was different from the people around her. "She was highly educated and his diagnoses were very accurate and she had saved many lives. Sh had diagnosed my father's heart disease and the need for surgery himself. Although her specialty was not adults, she had a high level of knowledge in this field. We never heard her raise her voice. Her daughter was at a mischievous age and sometimes she would tease her, but she never got angry and always treated her kindly. She was patient and despite her heavy workload, she always made time for her child, read books and had fun with her. She grieved for all her patients, cried, made vows and sacrifices, and sometimes told me to pray for them. When she was pregnant, she would sit over her patients from night to morning, checking on them and not entrusting her work to anyone." Both she and her sister had loved martyrs since childhood, and in their conversations they always said that they wished we were there to help during the Iraq-Iran war: "She would help Gaza too, and like me, she wanted to do something to save Gaza." Both sisters had gone to their parents' house during the previous week's vacation, and of course, like many girls, they spent a lot of time in their father's house. All of their documents were in the same house, which has now burned down. Last night, Marzieh asked her sister to stay the night at her father's house, but fate had a different plan. Marzieh's sister and her family left, only to return the next day. She was not after fame and tradition. Dr. Marzieh Asgari was an exceptional woman and colleague in the eyes of her colleagues, and they could count on her presence in the hospital during all the difficult times. Maryam Vaisizadeh, one of the specialist doctors at Bahrami Hospital who has known her for five years and has worked closely with her for about a year, says: "She had a very beautiful laugh. As a doctor on duty, she had a very calm and quiet personality and did everything she could. She did not seek to do something and make a name for himself. She did not seek fuss, and because of the good cooperation she had, it was decided about a year ago that she would become a faculty member, so he became one of the morning professors and started her work with motivation. She documented everything so well that I told him that she would become an associate professor sooner than anyone else. The residents were also very happy with her, she gave them classes and did not hold back anything she knew from them. The condition of newborns is such that many things can happen to them in the evening and at night, and the residents cannot sort out the matter. The residents said that we had problems in the ward and that even though she was not in charge of that ward, she stood over the patient until the morning and did her work herself. Many times she did her work without expectations and only the patient's condition and well-being mattered to her. In the year that we had been working together, I was very happy and we supported each other a lot. She was shy and modest and I always wanted everyone to know what a strange and lovable creature she was. "It was a collaboration that, after a month or two, you could easily trust her without worrying about anything. She worked at the height of silence and oppression, and everything had just gotten better and her mischief was starting to happen. We would argue and he would answer and laugh. She was happy with the situation that had arisen and everyone loved her. Even when the patient's condition was normal, she would stop to make sure things were going well, and when the patient was in critical condition, she would stand over her until the morning, saying that she remembered my own condition. I dare say; many patients who had difficult surgeries have improved because of the doctor's presence, because this was not something that the residents could handle. She didn't care at all whether it was her duty or not if you called her, she would do her job quietly and calmly and walk away. She had been raised within the right human and moral framework; an unpretentious, quiet, healthy, and upright person." During the few days of vacation in mid-June, Dr. Vaisizadeh went on a trip and was actually on leave, and Dr. Asghari had agreed to cover her duties. They had been sitting together since early June and looking at the calendar to decide on it, but a few days later, on Saturday morning, one of the students called her and told her the whole story: "At first I thought something had happened to the patient, but then when I found out, I tried to call her husband. They said the doctor's husband had called - imagine if someone had had something like this happen to their wife, and they didn't know about their child or wife, but they remembered that this woman was an orphan and that there was a possibility that something might happen to her patients, and like the doctor, she has so much responsibility in her nature that she called and told the ward nurse; the doctor and her child were in a building that was targeted by a missile, and they still haven't found them. In fact, she had called to tell the ward nurse that if the doctor wasn't answering her phone, that was the reason. When I heard this, I locked myself up and said to myself, "It's not possible at all," but eventually I realized that something like this had happened. Apparently, they had gone to the doctor's father's house together because the doctor had work coming up that night and she was supposed to go and the doctor and her daughter would stay there. The body of their daughter was found in the search, but the bodies of the doctor, mother, and father were not found because they were in the exact same room that was hit by the missile, so they were identified through DNA." About 12 days have passed since the day of the incident, but the body of Dr. Asghari's mother has not been found yet, and the family is waiting to hold a ceremony for their lost loved ones in the coming days after the mother is found and preparations are made.