Members of the Bangladesh army pray at the site of the collapsed Rana Plaza in Savar near Dhaka on Tuesday, May 14. The army-led effort to search for bodies has ended nearly three weeks after the nine-story building collapsed. The final death toll stands at 1,127.
Editor's note: Laura Sherburne first shared her story with CNN iReport.
(CNN) -- Somewhere high above the clouds over Africa, in seat number 17K, Laura Sherburne learned the awful news of the Boston bombings.
She was supposed to have been there, right at the finish line, captain of a team of volunteer nurses who triage exhausted runners in medical tents. She'd done it last year and signed up again.
But shortly before the race, Sherburne learned she had won an international fellowship and would have to be on a plane the day of the marathon. She cajoled her friend Jane Keefe Chiang to take over the nurses team.
Panic set in on that never-ending Emirates flight from New York after she caught a news flash on an in-flight channel. "Deadly explosion at Boston Marathon finish line."
There was so little information at first. She imagined the worst.
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The ache turned to guilt that she wasn't there to help -- guilt squared because she was a nurse.
As her plane landed, Sherburne's head was an emotional cocktail: grief, anger and anxiety, mixed with excitement of being in a foreign land.
It was all about to magnify.
She'd arrived in Bangladesh, one week before that nation's worst industrial tragedy. She did not have to witness the horror in her hometown. But 8,653 miles away, she would not be spared.
A medical mission half a world away
Sherburne, 25, made the journey to Bangladesh with Maryanne Meadows, a neurosurgery nurse she'd befriended at Simmons College in Boston. After nursing school, the two women went to work at Massachusetts General Hospital, where many of the bombing victims were treated.
The pair were part of a rotating team the hospital has been sending to Dhaka to help set up the first bone marrow transplant unit in Bangladesh. Massachusetts General has 60 health projects in 40 countries. The Bangladesh government had approached the hospital to help set up the facility, scheduled to open around August.
Sherburne had never traveled to South Asia before. She experienced the shock that almost every Westerner does after leaving the airport. The assault of hot, heavy, damp air. The unsightly piles of garbage tossed in heaps in open lots, their stench mingling with the heady smells of mustard oil and onion from cooking on the streets.
At her apartment, palmetto bugs scurried across the living room floor and geckos shuttled along the walls.
She might have been reeling from it all had Boston not filled her mind.
After she saw the news on the plane, she'd woken up Meadows, and the two immediately purchased in-flight Wi-Fi so they could get on e-mail and Facebook and check on their friends and family.
Luckily, everyone seemed to be fine.
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"It was really hard. I was just trying to focus, but it just kept getting worse," she said. Her brother lives in Watertown, where police finally caught up with bombing suspect Dzhokhar Tsarnaev.
Through it all, Sherburne was so immersed in the news that she almost forgot she was not actually in Boston. That she hadn't just had a Dunkin' Donuts coffee or gone for a jog along the Charles River.
In her first post on her new blog, "What Would Flo Do?" (named after Florence Nightingale), Sherburne wrote this:
"Given the horrific scenes of Monday, followed by the conclusive events on Friday, my head and heart are still somewhere lost over the Atlantic," she wrote. "I hope, however, to slowly drift back to the Bay of Bengal shores and the work at hand."
Welcome to Bangladesh
She and Meadows settled into their apartment in the neighborhood of Baridhara, which Sherburne described as the Beacon Hill of Bangladesh. It lacks the swank of blue-blood Boston but for Dhaka, it is a luxury. She even has remote-controlled air conditioning and a maid, Shilipi, who cleans and cooks for the two Americans.
Her father had worried so much about his daughter traveling to Bangladesh. The worries heightened after deadly riots erupted over a war crimes tribunal trying Islamist leaders for crimes committed during the nation's 1971 war for independence, when it was known as East Pakistan. Still, he'd been glad to hear his daughter's voice from the other side of the world. Thank God she wasn't on the finish line that day in Boston.
On some days, Sherburne and Meadows found themselves in lockdown in their new home because of security concerns. The opposition party, allied with Islamists, has been calling for nationwide strikes, and tensions have led to violent clashes on the streets. But the nurses were eager to get started with the work at hand.
The challenge of launching a bone marrow transplant unit seemed even greater when Bangladesh decided to put it in a public institution: Dhaka Medical College Hospital.
Sherburne had signed up to do this because she wanted to be out of her comfort zone and to be able to remember always how lucky she was to be at Massachusetts General.
She was reminded the moment she walked into Dhaka Medical.
The hospital has 1,700 beds but on any given day, there could be as many as 4,000 patients sharing beds and spilling into hallways and stairwells. That's not uncommon for public hospitals in this part of the world. They are the only places where desperately poor people can afford medical care.
Sherburne's skills might even make her a doctor at the Dhaka hospital. Some nurses are barely one step above a maid. That's what a doctor told Sherburne upon her arrival.
She'd never been in a hospital so ill-equipped to treat severe cases. In Boston, she changed her latex gloves after seeing each patient. In Dhaka, the hospital could not afford so many gloves, so the nurses used one pair on several patients.
She was appalled by the workload of the nurses; each averaged 25 to 30 patients. In America, that number would likely be somewhere between four and eight.
Sherburne and Meadows began their lectures and their clinical training of 10 nurses.
A horrific industrial accident
On the morning of April 24, the two American women were advised to stay at home. A hartal, the Bengali word for a strike, had been called for that day, and there was potential for more strife.
But the employees at the garment factories housed in Rana Plaza in suburban Savar were exempt from the strike. They were ordered to work, even after an inspection the previous day found cracks in the nine-story building and the structure was deemed dangerous.
Shortly after thousands of men, women, boys and girls showed up that day, the building came tumbling down. They were trapped under a crush of mangled concrete and steel.
Sherburne received a U.S. State Department alert about the building collapse.
"When Boston happened, it was so hard not to be at the scene," she said Thursday from Dhaka. "When this happened, I said, 'Take me to the hospital.' "
But she couldn't leave because of the security risks. Stuck in her home, she watched tragedy unfold again on television.
"My heart hasn't stopped breaking," she said.
She watched as rescue workers pulled out survivors, as time grew short. She knew that after 72 hours, there was little chance of a person surviving without food and water. The death toll would eventually rise to more than 700.
She watched as the plight of the workers became public again; how so many worked under terrible conditions for paltry salaries.
And she watched as a 17-year-old girl was interviewed on a TV station. Rescuers had to amputate her arm to slide her out of the rubble.
When Sherburne was 17, she dreaded Saturdays when she worked a four-hour shift at a dry cleaning shop and made $40. Now, it was difficult to watch the teenage survivor.
"The station called her lucky, and I went numb thinking how at age 17, I would have defined lucky," Sherburne wrote.
"It would have incorporated more than a minimum wage of $38 a month, it would have indicated that if a building was deemed unsafe on a Tuesday, I would not have been forced to return on a Wednesday, and without question it would have included two hands."
Later she questioned why tragedy in her hometown was incessantly on the news but the headlines from Bangladesh had already started to fade even before the rescue operation was over.
"I could tell you more about how much the Boston Marathon bombers' mother shoplifted from a Natick, Massachusetts, mall than how many factory workers were still missing."
Finally released to help
Five days after the catastrophe, Sherburne was allowed out of her house. She went to Dhaka Medical, which had taken in so many of the injured, some now without limbs, some still in life-threatening situations.
She was about to see what she didn't have to in Boston.
She walked into a ward with 53 female patients, their beds pressed together to make room for them all. It was 101 degrees that day, and the electricity was off because of a national grid problem. Some parts of the vast hospital were dark; others parts were dimly lit by emergency generators.
Sherburne wanted to change the patients' dressings, but there wasn't enough bandaging material to do that. So she did what nurses are trained to do. She sat on their beds and comforted them, speaking through a translator.
"How's your pain?" she asked.
"No pain," one said. "Nice to meet you."
For Sherburne, it was another reminder of human resilience.
Each patient mumbled a number. Three. Five. Eight. At first Sherburne didn't understand why.
Then it hit her. They were telling her which floor they had been on when the building hurtled toward the earth.
She reached out and held a woman's hand and noticed they were both wearing the same shade of pink on their nails. They even had identical chips in the polish.
"That's when it stopped seeming American to Bangladeshi and (it) was just a young woman to (another) young woman," Sherburne wrote.
She walked out with the realization that the clothes she was wearing might have been made in one of those factories that collapsed.
She remembers someone asking her if she wanted to see the dead -- the ones who had been brought to hospital but did not survive.
Sherburne declined, politely, but caught a glimpse of a lifeless body being wheeled away. She figured the woman was around her own age.
CNN's Saeed Ahmed contributed to this story.
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CNN iReport
Relatives of missing garment workers offer prayers in front of the rubble on May 14 in Savar.
A white board at the recovery command center near the disaster is used to track the death toll on Monday, May 13.
Heavy equipment sifts through the rubble of the garment factory building collapse on Sunday, May 12.
A woman cries holds a portrait of a missing relative believed to be trapped in the rubble of the Rana Plaza building on Saturday, May 11.
Bangladeshi garment worker Reshma Begum, a seamstress who survived 16 days trapped in the rubble of a collapsed building, rests in Savar Cantonment Hospital on the outskirts of Dhaka on May 11.
Relatives search through a long line of covered decomposing bodies to try to identify their family members on May 11.
Rescue workers retrieve Reshma from the rubble in Savar, Bangladesh, on Friday, May 10. She got rescue workers' attention by waving an iron rod. She was found in a pool of water, which allowed her to stay alive.
An injured worker who survived the building collapse is carried by her husband to collect her wages in Savar near Dhaka, Bangladesh, on Wednesday, May 8.
Garment workers who survived the building collapse line up to collect their salaries in Savar on May 8.
Workers continue rescue and recovery operations on Tuesday, May 7, nearly two weeks after the Rana Plaza building's collapse outside Dhaka.
Rescue workers recover a body from the rubble on May 7.
Relatives place a body in the back of a truck on May 7.
A woman attempts to identify one of the bodies kept in a schoolyard on May 7.
Members of the Bangladeshi army and firefighters carry the body of a garment worker from the scene of the building collapse in Savar, outside Dhaka, on Sunday, May 5.
A woman holds a portrait of her missing relative as she sleeps on Saturday, May 4.
Relatives attempt to identify the bodies of loved ones on May 4.
Rescue workers dig out debris from the Rana Plaza building as Bangladeshi army personnel continue the second phase of a rescue operation using heavy equipment on Friday, May 3.
A woman reacts on May 3 after identifying a body found in the rubble.
A man stands amid the destruction as rescue and army personnel continue recovery operations on May 3.
A woman holds up a picture of a missing person believed to be trapped in the rubble on May 3.
A garment worker rescued from the wreckage of the Rana Plaza building lies in a hospital in Dhaka on Thursday, May 2.
A woman weeps after identifying her daughter's body in the rubble in Savar on May 2.
Rescue workers move debris as Bangladeshi army personnel continue the second phase of a rescue operation at the site of the collapsed building in Savar on May 2.
A woman mourns before a mass burial in Dhaka on Wednesday, May 1.
Unidentified bodies from the rubble lie on the ground as people gather for a mass burial in Dhaka on May 1.
Workers dig graves during a mass burial of unidentified garment workers on May 1.
Sohel Rana, owner of the collapsed Rana Plaza building, wears police-issued body armor and a helmet while being escorted to court in Dhaka on Tuesday, April 30. Rana was arrested near the Indian border, and protesters called for him to be hanged.
Bangladeshi troops carry the body of a garment worker out of the rubble of the collapsed Rana Plaza building in Savar on April 30.
Clothing with Joe Fresh labels lies in the debris on April 30.
Cranes operated by Bangladeshi army personnel work on Monday, April 29.
Firefighters try to control a blaze that started while they were trying to rescue a woman with heavy equipment on April 29.
Bangladeshi army personnel begin the second phase of the rescue operation using heavy equipment on April 29.
Rescuers look for survivors on Sunday, April 28. The Bangladesh Red Crescent Society says the chances of finding anyone alive in the rubble at this date are remote.
A woman mourns on April 28 at the site of the building collapse in Savar.
Rescue workers search for survivors on April 28.
Volunteers sleep before they begin more rescue operations on April 28.
Rescue workers carry a victim's body recovered from the rubble on April 28.
Clothes lie in the rubble on Saturday, April 27.
An arrested owner of a garment factory is escorted to an appearance at the court in Dhaka on April 27. Four people were arrested and four others are being questioned by police.
Relatives hold photos of missing and dead workers outside the factory April 27.
Two Bangladeshi women look at a board with notices posted of missing and dead workers on April 27.
Bangladeshi relatives and workers load a body onto a truck on April 27.
An excavator operated by the Bangladeshi Army removes debris on April 26.
Volunteers and rescue workers conduct rescue operations on April 26.
Rescue workers use textile as a slide to move bodies out of the rubble on April 26.
Rescue workers look for trapped garment workers on April 26.
Rescue workers stand on the rubble of the collapsed building on April 26.
Rescue workers search the rubble for victims and survivors on April 26.
A rescue worker looks for trapped workers on April 26.
Bangladeshi army personnel recover a survivor from rubble on April 26, 48 hours after the collapse.
Volunteers and rescue workers assist in rescue operations on April 26.
A physician assists a survivor after he was recovered from the rubble on April 26.
Two bodies clutch each other in the rubble on Thursday, April 25.
People rescue garment workers on April 25.
A Bangladeshi woman shows a picture of her missing daughter-in-law she believes is trapped in the collapsed building on April 25.
Bangladeshi firefighters cut a hole through concrete during rescue operations on April 25 in Savar, a suburb of Dhaka.
Volunteers and rescue workers work at the scene on April 25.
A woman appears devastated on April 25 after identifying the body of her husband killed in the building collapse.
Bangladeshi garment workers help evacuate a survivor by using a roll of fabric on April 24.
People rescue garment workers on Wednesday, April 24, after the building caved in, leaving a chaotic mass of broken concrete and twisted metal.
Relatives who lost a brother mourn outside a hospital on April 24.
Rescuers help an injured garment worker to escape from the Rana Plaza building on the outskirts of Dhaka on April 24.
Civilians help an injured garment worker on April 24. Work was proceeding slowly to avoid causing further collapse, an official said.
Rescue workers search for trapped garment workers in the Rana Plaza building on April 24.
An injured Bangladeshi lies on the hospital floor on April 24.
The injured receive treatment at a hospital on April 24.
An injured person rests in a hospital bed on April 24.
People wait anxiously on April 24 while rescuers search for survivors.
Rescuers help an injured person out of the seventh floor on April 24.
Civilians help out in rescue efforts at the collapsed building on April 24.
Hundreds watch the rescue operations on April 24.
People search for garment workers trapped under the debris on April 24.
Rescuers help an injured worker on April 24.
A body is trapped under the damaged building on April 24.
A woman is carried away from the building on April 24.
A rescue worker carries a worker to an ambulance on April 24.
Crowds gather around the collapsed building on April 24.
Rescuers bring out an injured garment worker from the building's sixth floor.
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