Day 3, Filling the Cups
The morning began with stillness.
Scott Higgins – our team Chaplin – sat before us and spoke about water — about drinking deeply, about service, about gathering together to do good work. A week with a new family. A reminder that by pouring into others, we allow ourselves to be filled.
It felt fitting.
Outside, the cool Guatemalan morning held on just long enough before the sun began warming the courtyard stones. Inside the Obras, the rhythm began to build.
Orientation first. A quick walk through the familiar tiled hallways. The OR doors. The recovery bays. The spaces that will hum tomorrow.
Then the trunks.
Black hard cases stacked along the walls like quiet sentinels — months of preparation compressed into latches and packaging. They opened one by one. Supplies emerged. Instruments and various products found their shelves. Our trunks lined the corridors while teams sorted, stocked, and built orders from long lists.
It is a strange thing to watch an empty operating room become ready.
Carts roll. Shelves fill. Computers flicker to life. Charts are reviewed. Medications are labeled and staged. Each decision specific to a patient who hasn’t yet stepped into the room.
And then triage begins.
Under the covered courtyard, patients wait in plastic chairs, some leaning into each other, some scrolling their phones, some simply watching…waiting. Many have traveled far. They carry folders thick with paperwork and hope, often held safe in plastic grocery bags.
One by one, they file into exam rooms.
Conversations unfold in quiet offices. Ultrasounds are reviewed. Surgical histories retold. Schedules begin to form — first tentative, then firm. By 11 a.m., one operative schedule for Monday is full.
It’s happening, we are like a machine warming up.
Lunch is brief and delicious — laughter returning, shoulders loosening — before everyone slips back into place. By mid-afternoon, every patient has been seen. Primary cases are scheduled. Alternates are listed, just in case time opens later in the week.
The hallway energy shifts from anticipation to readiness.Outside the gates, Antigua continues as it always does — yellow walls catching afternoon light, cobblestones holding heat, motorcycles weaving past pickup trucks and pedestrians. The street venders began to pack their wares for the evening. But inside the Obras, the week has officially begun.
Tomorrow, the OR doors will open and the first surgeries will start.
Tonight, we rest.
The trunks are empty.
The schedule is full.
The work is waiting.
Brian Jensen
Team blogger, Robinson – Jensen Surgery 888
