Day 4: Wednesday, June 17th, 2026
Today is Father’s Day here in Guatemala, so in honor of all the father figures back home, happy Guatemalan Father’s Day! Our team sends our love and thoughts to you and to all the wonderful fathers who have come through our clinic. Once again, thank you to everyone who has made this trip possible. We just can’t wait to celebrate U.S. Father’s Day with you, so today, our work is dedicated to all of you.
In light of Father’s Day here in Guatemala, Tony followed our ritual meditation with a monologue about what defines us as individuals. One of the main topics was parenthood and the challenge of balancing spirituality with everyday life. Tony alluded to Socrates’ famous quote, “The unexamined life is not worth living,” leaving much of its meaning open to our interpretation. As a father himself, Tony described his examined life as one centered on kindness and becoming a better person in service to others. He reminded us that we are not defined by our professions, accomplishments, or tragedies. As long as we refuse to let those things define us, we can remain humble, compassionate, and appreciative of life.
This theme really resonated deeply with me because my mother is also on this mission trip as one of the gynecologic surgeons. Tony first called on Aiden, Pamela’s son and a member of our triage team, asking him to share two reasons why he loves his mother. He then turned to me and asked the same question. ‘My mom, Dr. Nishio, is one of my greatest role models, and her ambition and work ethic—to limit it to just two qualities—are among the traits I have tried to emulate throughout my life.’ I realize I don’t say this to her enough because I assume she knows it, but Tony emphasized how important it is to reaffirm this to our loved ones every so often without prompting. The parental figures in our lives are among the most influential people in shaping who we become. So to all of the fathers, mothers, and parental figures who have supported a member of this team, thank you for everything you have given us.
Today, our wheelchair clinic provided wheelchairs to nearly 30 patients. Mitch, Tony Lewis, Tony Law, and the HHG staff spent the day building wheelchairs in the sweltering mobility clinic for incoming patients. The team efficiently assembled enough chairs for all of today’s patients and finished early. However, rather than taking a well-earned break, they proactively began building chairs for the next day’s patients. It has been incredible to watch each member of the wheelchair-building team refine their techniques and develop new methods every day to maximize efficiency. They are so adept with wheelchair building that they can listen to FIFA and sing karaoke to Santeria all while building. The wheelchair builders have worked tirelessly behind the scenes all week to ensure that every patient receives the mobility equipment they need. Their role is unique in that it consists almost entirely of physical labor in intense heat, with little patient interaction and very few opportunities for rest. Thanks to their innovation, efficiency, and hard work, the physical therapists were able to finish fitting all of the scheduled patients early, and Cathy was able to bring in five additional patients that would have not been seen otherwise. Even though the wheelchair clinic was done with their scheduled patients, they continued to work hard to serve as many people as possible. The wheelchair clinic has already distributed all our walkers and nearly all our small, medium, and large wheelchairs, just over halfway through the mission.
Before lunch, Jany and Gladys, Elizabeth and Sue, and Julie and Oscar operated three separate wheelchair-fitting rooms, fitting 21 patients with their new chairs. Jany, our occupational therapist, and Elizabeth and Julie, our physical therapists, worked simultaneously to fit patients and teach their families how to use the wheelchairs safely and effectively. With the help of their translators, they demonstrated how to assemble and disassemble the wheelchairs, transfer patients in and out of them, and navigate uneven terrain. The final bus of patients came in about two hours after their scheduled work was finished, but Jany, Gladys, Elizabeth, Sue, Julie, and Oscar patiently waited in the stiflingly humid mobility clinic. By late afternoon, the wheelchair clinic was once again operating at full speed and continued serving patients well into the evening.
At the heart of our operations—quite literally, considering that nearly half the team has experienced gastroenteritis at some point during the trip—is our team physician, Dr. Joe Austin. Since day one, when I first fell ill, and throughout the seemingly exponential spread of the illness over the following days, Dr. Austin has balanced screening and triaging patients in the wheelchair clinic while also treating sick team members. He has carefully tracked our symptoms, vital signs, medications, recovery timelines, and overall progress. There truly is no better place to fall ill than in a hospital surrounded by our physicians, nurses, and scrub techs.
In addition to Dr. Austin’s efforts to keep us healthy, the PACU nurses have continued to care for sick team members throughout the week. At one point, there were more FIP team members recovering in the PACU than postoperative patients. Despite this, the PACU nurses remained a steady source of care and support for both recovering patients and colleagues.
As we reflect on the day and remember Tony’s message, we are reminded that the true measure of a life well lived is not found in titles, accomplishments, or hardships. Rather, it is found in the relationships we build and the love we share with others. Every patient served, every wheelchair fitted, every surgery performed, and every act of care provided is made possible by the families who have encouraged us, sacrificed for us, and helped shape us into who we are today. Whether you are celebrating Guatemalan Father’s Day here or from home, take a moment to call your loved ones. Reach out to your father, mother, mentor, or friends. Remind them that you love them, and tell them why. Sometimes, two simple reasons can mean more than we realize.
Sara Ty, Blogger
Tony opens this morning’s reflection on how much kindness is needed in life. To me, Maria embodied that kindness from the moment she stepped into the Hospital. Maria was quick to kiss and hold hands with every member of our team who came near her. Before I even approached her bed, I heard her laughter from across the room and knew she must have the kindest smile. Interpreter Sarah Dudan and nurse Rebecca Smith were already giggling with her as though they were old friends.
Maria proudly told us about her large family: 10 children (seven sons and three daughters), 38 grandchildren, and 15 great-grandchildren.
You would never have guessed how much pain she had been carrying. For the past year, her hernia had continued to grow larger and more painful, yet she greeted everyone around her with laughter, affection, and warmth. She was excited for the operation because, in her words, it would save her life and allow her to continue being there for her family. She was also determined to recover in time to celebrate her 69th birthday the following week.
Even before the surgery, Maria never stopped talking or making us laugh.
“You’re not going to want to work,” she warned us, “because I am going to talk so much.”
Her surgical team included general surgeon Dr. Dan Nadig, CRNA Chris Lennard, nurse Rebecca Smith, and certified surgical technologist Lilian Marin.
Maria’s kindness and positive energy followed us into the operating room. Dr. Nadig requested Britney Spears, and hit after hit played while Rebecca, Lilian, Chris, and I sang and danced—carefully and without interfering with the surgery.
When “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston played, Chris asked Dr. Nadig whether he wanted to dance.
“I am dancing with this hernia,” he replied.
I could not stop laughing.
The surgery went smoothly. As Dr. Nadig began closing the incision, ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” played. While we cleaned and prepared to leave the operating room, the rest of us could not resist singing along. Dr. Nadig sighed, but we could tell he was smiling.
I’ve persuaded our team to create a playlist of our favorite songs to work to, whether that’s building wheelchairs or removing gallbladders. Here’s the link to listen along to what we listen to.
When Maria began waking from anesthesia, she was tearful and grateful. Then, without missing a beat, she announced, “I want a beer.”
Everyone burst out laughing as she grinned.
“I want to bring all of you to my house,” she continued. “I want beer and some rice and beans. Oh—does my family know I’m okay?”
The entire recovery team smiled. When we assured her that her family had been notified and knew she was doing well, Maria immediately began dancing by moving her shoulders. I told her that we had also been dancing during her surgery.
Because she had never heard “Dancing Queen” before, we played it for her. Soon, all of us were dancing together again, this time with Maria awake and leading the celebration from her bed.
When ward nurse Jessi Gudgell went looking for Maria’s family, her daughter came running. As I spent time in the ward visiting other patients, wave after wave of Maria’s children, grandchildren, and relatives arrived. Each person greeted her with a kiss on the head and the same warmth she had shown every member of our team.
Kindness and love clearly ran in the family.
Maria’s kindness filled the operating room, but elsewhere in the hospital, I saw that same kindness expressed more quietly through the people who care for one another every day.
At the mobility clinic, I met Yolanda, who had traveled an hour and a half with her neighbor, Melvin. She has difficulty walking and usually relies on a cane. Recently, while walking in the rain, her cane slipped from beneath her, causing her to fall hard.
Yolanda lives with her sons, who help care for her, while her daughter braids her hair. Despite her limited mobility, she takes pride in the independence she still has and continues to bathe and dress herself, though with some assistance.
Her husband passed away two years ago, and she still carries the grief of that loss. She also experiences gout in her left foot and pain along the left side of her body. After traveling to see a doctor in the capital, she was told that the gout might be placing pressure on a nerve.
Yet, like Maria, Yolanda greeted us with sweetness and a constant smile. The kindness surrounding her was quieter but just as powerful—in Melvin traveling beside her, in her children helping her at home, and in Yolanda’s determination to continue doing what she can for herself.
Their stories reminded me that kindness does not always arrive through grand gestures. Sometimes, it is found in holding someone’s hand, accompanying a neighbor on a long journey, braiding a mother’s hair, or helping someone maintain a small but meaningful piece of independence.
Tony reminded us that the world needs more kindness. Maria and Yolanda showed us how powerful kindness can be, even in the midst of pain, when it is shared freely—with family, with neighbors, with strangers, and even in an operating room filled with Britney Spears and ABBA.
We came to care for them, but their warmth, humor, and kindness became a blessing to all of us.
Happy happy birthday to our amazing team lead, Clarissa. This team would not be what it is without your kindness, light, guidance, and unwavering support. Thank you for all that you do! You are an inspiration to all of us.
Jessie Lin, Blogger/Photographer
