Day 5: Surgery Day #4
Our fourth and final day of surgery! It was bittersweet as we realized that this was our last day here at Las Obras—relief to know that we had successfully served all our patients, but also sadness that we wouldn’t be able to help any more. As I built my last wheelchair, interpreted for my last patient, and observed my last procedure, I reflected on our journey.
At the beginning of the week, I felt a bit overwhelmed. I wasn’t quite sure where I should be, or when—a feeling shared by many. I felt hesitant about connecting with patients and missed out on opportunities to get to know them.
But as the week went on, I grew more comfortable. I began assisting with morning rounds, observing surgeries, and conversing with patients. I came to enjoy moving between the operating rooms, patient wards, and mobility clinic, experiencing and participating in every part of our work here. Today, I even had the marvelous opportunity to interpret for an extended time in the mobility clinic, finally getting to know the patients I had been building wheelchairs for all week.
Among these patients, I met people with a wide variety of challenges, including motorcycle accidents, amputated limbs, gunshot wounds, and old age. I could see the happiness in their faces when they were finally offered pain relief, freedom, and mobility for the first time in years. No longer would they be confined to a stationary chair at home, relying on others. One of the most touching sights was seeing some participants carried out of the meeting area by their companions, knowing that a wheelchair would soon offer them independence.
I also had the chance to observe a procedure for a man named German, whom I met on the first day. Following a painful motorcycle accident and years of infection, he was having his leg amputated. Dr. Dan Ocel, one of the surgeons, said: “We’ll give him his life back. That”—he gestured to German’s X-rays—“and pus draining out is no life.” After the successful surgery, Dr. Ocel smiled and said, “Yep, life returned.”
I know many of us will be sad to finish our work here at Las Obras, which, fittingly, translates to “the works.” But we can take comfort knowing that our efforts have not been in vain. 89 surgeries were performed and 141 wheelchairs were built this week—and perhaps even more importantly, hundreds of lives were changed, including the lives of those of us on the team. I have been honored to be a part of this experience.
-Isabel Rowan, Blogger
As we wrap up our final day at Las Obras Hospital, I find myself filled with gratitude, peace, and a quiet sense of awe. Today was our last opportunity to serve in the operating rooms, build wheelchairs, help patients regain mobility through physical therapy, and deepen our relationship with God and one another. It was a day of meaningful goodbyes and quiet reflection—of soaking in every final moment with the patients and teammates who have touched our lives so deeply.
This morning, our devotional shared a quote from Mother Teresa that seemed to perfectly capture the heart of our mission:
“The fruit of silence is prayer, the fruit of prayer is faith, the fruit of faith is love, the fruit of love is service, the fruit of service is peace.”
I kept returning to that final line—“the fruit of service is peace.” After this week, I believe that more than ever. There is a special kind of peace that comes from pouring your heart into the service of others, especially when that service is shared with such a compassionate, selfless team.
Today, I spent time in the hospital wards with patients and in the ORs with surgeons. I got to witness healing in action—not just in the physical sense, but in the form of hope restored, burdens lifted, and lives changed. I stood beside surgeons, scrub techs, circulators, pharmacists, physical therapists, interpreters, administrative staff, and local Guatemalan professionals—all working side by side with shared purpose and mutual respect.
What stood out the most to me was how open and enthusiastic everyone was to teach me. They constantly offered opportunities to try new things, patiently guided me, and generously shared their knowledge. Every day I left with something new—whether it was a skill, a story, or a perspective that deepened my love for medicine and service. I’ve never felt so supported by a group of people who were strangers just a week ago. So many of them took the time to pour into me—offering words of wisdom, encouragement, and confidence in my future. Their belief in me is something I’ll carry for a long time.
These people—this place—have given me irreplaceable lessons and memories I will carry with me for the rest of my life. There was not a single person I met this week who didn’t make me feel thankful to be here. Whether it was a patient’s smile, a heartfelt blessing, or a quiet moment of prayer, I was constantly reminded of the beauty and resilience that exists here in Guatemala.
Though our time at Las Obras has come to an end, the love and peace we found in serving others will stay with us. As we prepare to leave, I feel nothing but gratitude—for this team, this mission, and this opportunity to be part of something so much greater than ourselves.
-Isabel Angola, Blogger
