Blog, 26 Jun, 25
It’s the last day of the clinical week. Tony started with a quote from Oprah Winfrey: “if you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never have enough.” I think he and I share similar thoughts about gratitude, but he’s much more eloquent about it. He had remarked about the gratitude he’d felt to be here, with all of us, doing this work, which he’d mentioned during each reflection and which I think we all felt. It was evident he meant it, and it was evident still that he felt it important that the team knew it. I don’t doubt the team misunderstood him in any way, but I thought it was akin to something like telling your dog you love them. They know it, but a reminder still feels good. Tony had opened up the floor for folks to talk about any thoughts they had that they felt they wanted to share. Doctor Tracey talked about how much she appreciated the relationships of the team members to each other. She emphasized that, “it’s the camaraderie of the team that keeps me going.” After having gotten to meet and know her across this week, I don’t think it would be outlandish to say that she probably meant this statement twofold. One, that this team, many of whom had also commented on similar statements this week, felt cohesive, supportive, and unified. And two, that a team that feels cohesive and supportive and unified is part of what invigorates her to keep providing the care she can. It was a powerful moment to hear that kind of fervor at 6:12am. Tomorrow night at dinner, Rocky will elaborate better than I do on how Tony’s methodology of reflection works. He’ll explain: “What Tony is doing is saying, ‘here’s a thought. Run with it.’” The thought is gratitude, and we’re running with it.
It’s 8:37am and there’s a space where OR volunteer staff don their PPE, including head covers, shoe booties, and masks. And I’m sitting in the cafeteria, which is one door away. The door is open and I’m maybe 20 feet from them. I can hear that they’re talking and I can sense the mood of the conversation but I can’t quite make out what they’re saying. This moment is noteworthy because I can hear from my seat a surgical team about to start another procedure is singing “Oops!…I Did It Again” by Britney Spears. They’re singing to each other, on their fifth straight day of this clinical work, another early start and potentially another late end. But the spirits are high and the energy isn’t waning. I admired the gusto of the team, evoking the energy out of each other and channeling it into the work. I thought it was a beautiful moment of inadvertent reciprocity when I walked into the mobility clinic maybe half an hour later and I could hear a song I recognized, the cover of which I did not recognize. They sang along, those who knew it. Ryan shared that it was “Imagine” as performed by Chris Kläfford. The team was unanimous about it: unreal. Kläfford doesn’t veer from the original arrangement of the song with regard to the chords he was using. During the hook there’s a iii dom7 chord that resolves to a IV chord that, to me, has always been the defining transition in the song. I think it’s always felt like being in a warm room then opening the window, and a cool breeze pushes its way past you, then to you. And I think that’s what this week has felt like. The state of the world has felt unusually tumultuous recently, but then I open this window and find a group of people willing to do what they’re doing, and there’s a small air of relief, of respite. I’ll take it.
Much of the day was spent as normal, with the operating rooms and mobility clinic in full swing. The difference today was that a bulk of the remaining supplies were being packed. Different teams were parsing out which supplies could be donated or could be saved for the next mission trip. The packing started briefly yesterday but today was in full swing. Team support lead Tisha spearheaded the effort to ensure that none of the supplies was wasted. Some were expiring before this team would return next so she ensured it was easy for Faith in Practice to identify what could be donated to another local team so that they could use it within the safety window. It’s meticulous work, and she did a remarkable job delegating many idle but willing hands. It was through her efforts and the eagerness of each team to work with and for each other that the process was finished with enough time to allow everyone to have celebratory cakes and photo opportunities with people they’d found shared kindred spirits during the journey. It was a long and arduous week, and though I do have some numbers, I cannot fully express the impact that can be and was achieved here.
One of the first things I did this morning was walk with doctor Dan and translator Oscar to the ward, where one of Dan’s patients from yesterday was recovering this morning. He was just waking up when we arrived. This patient, Alejandro, had come in for a hernioplasty. During the screening at the beginning of the week, Dan and Oscar explained to me that Alejandro had lifted his shirt to them to discuss the hernia he’d had, and a large mass was discovered near his ribs. He explained that he’d had it since birth and that he’d just learned to live with it as part of his body. He was maybe 35-45 years old. They asked if he’d wanted it removed and he said he did. During surgery day, Alejandro’s hernia was addressed and then, after completing the initial procedure, Dan and the OR team were able to remove the region, which they called a lipoma, and prepared it to send to a lab for further analysis. Our medical staff informed me that anything that had the potential to indicate or suggest health effects that may need to be addressed in the future during Faith in Practice missions are sent to an off-site laboratory and analyzed.
The next morning, when Dan and Oscar were doing rounds and checking on the status of folks to determine readiness for discharge, I met Alejandro. We introduced ourselves and he gave a firm handshake. He asked for a photograph with Dan and Oscar, so I took one for them. I hope he sees it one day. I remember looking at the photograph after Oscar told me what he said to them after his surgery and thinking about what he could’ve been thinking at that moment. I still don’t know what he was thinking, but I know how he felt. Because he told Oscar, and Oscar told me. He said, “I’m happy. I have no fear. I feel like a man. I’m free.” Oscar said later that he’s been coming on this Faith in Practice mission trip for six years, and every year there’s a face that stays with him. Alejandro’s is that face.
I think Alejandro’s story is one that encapsulates the heart of the mission of Faith in Practice and Craft 868, as well as so many of the other missions through FIP. The communities in Guatemala, while strong and enduring, are not always fully enabled by their systems to support the people who need it. Faith in Practice and Craft Team 868, while not all-encompassing and just for this week, commission themselves to provide some support to the best of their abilities. The result is a man like Alejandro, who is proud to express that he is not quite the same as he was before. There’s always work to be done, but, as Theodore Roosevelt notes, “far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”
Cheers,
Nico Petelo
