Guest blog: Tyler & Jill Tonner; From Operating Rooms to Jungle Springs: A Week of High Stakes and Low-Key Plumbing

Hello! We are Tyler and Jill Tonner! We spent the last 9 days in Honduras with Jake and Christy. We have known Jake and Christy for several years and finally found the time to get down to LDL to both visit and serve. Jill is an Acute Care/Trauma Surgeon and spent time operating for the week and Tyler spent the week working with Jake on the many facility and project needs. We have a toddler, Isla, who we left at home with our parents who cared for her so well to make this time possible. Each of us would like to share a bit from our week.

Excerpt from Tyler’s week:

I had the opportunity to spend a week with Jake and experience what his days are like. Before the trip, I didn’t fully appreciate the scope of his day-to-day work. He handles everything from fixing a drain in one of the houses to troubleshooting the imaging machines doctors rely on.

That variety is both exciting and exhausting. If you’re like me, you love the satisfaction of finishing a task—or at least making something better—and watching your to-do list shrink to zero. But that’s much harder when there’s so much work to do and specialized parts are difficult to get, something Jake has mentioned before. Take the hospital’s largest sterilizer, which is used to sterilize surgical tools. Jake and I started working on it to address a leak in the door seal. He already knew about the issue and had been trying to identify the replacement seal, but the aging sterilizer’s identifying data plate was long gone. After a series of Google searches, photos, and some uncomfortable maneuvering, we felt confident we had the right part number. I was already celebrating internally, ready to move on to the next item on the list. Then I learned that getting the part from the U.S. would take at least one to two weeks, so I wouldn’t be there to see the finished repair. Still, I thought we could move on—until we tried to close and lock the door. The handle kept spinning without locking it.

The questions came quickly: Did we break it? If not, why hadn’t we known about this? And if we fixed the locking mechanism, would the door seal well enough for the sterilizer to run while we waited for the new gasket?

Instead of moving on, we got to work diagnosing the door lock. I now know more about a radial lock on an AMSCO sterilizer than I’ll probably ever need to know again! It took two days, a trip to La Ceiba, and some fancy 3D printing by Jake, but we finally got the lock working to our satisfaction. The gasket was still needed, though, so Jake tagged the machine: “No funciona ☹”. I’m praying the new gasket solves the problem and thankful the door lock is ready to go. Even though I couldn’t cross the sterilizer off the to-do list, I headed to the Comedor to celebrate our progress with a cold Coke.

Many of the repair jobs we tackled that week followed a similar pattern: more parts needed, unexpected turns, and delays getting equipment back into service. Jake was used to it and kept moving, but I was frustrated. I’d hoped to rack up a list of completed projects and make the most of our workweek. Slowly, though, I began to celebrate the progress and enjoy time with my friend while supporting their mission work. I’ve never been accused of being patient, and God used this week as another reminder that I have room to grow. Naturally, I kept celebrating the small wins with a Coke.

One project, though, gave us the chance to see a repair through to the end. The water system serving the hospital, school, and homes relies on a series of freshwater springs tucked among the hills and trees. Electric pumps deliver water from the springs to tanks uphill from LDL. At one pump, the suspension cables that keep the electrical supply lines and water lines off the ground needed repair. The PVC conduit was carrying most of the load, and it was only a matter of time before the pump lost power or a water line broke. Early in the week, Jake and I hiked out to the spring to assess the problem and make a list of parts and tools needed. The distance wasn’t terribly long, but the terrain was steep—especially challenging when we returned carrying tools and gear. Pictures don’t do it justice, but I have a few to share anyway. As other projects took priority, Thursday evening arrived with the repairs still unfinished. I really wanted to complete this project with Jake, and God provided a two-hour window without rain on Friday morning. We had plenty of laughs while lugging the supplies, and this time, we finished the repairs. It was a rewarding week working alongside Jake—and a reminder to be patient, appreciate the progress, and celebrate life’s small wins.

Excerpt from Jill’s Week

I had been on a few medical mission trips before. During my first year of medical school, I traveled to Honduras to help in an outpatient clinic. Then, in my fourth year, I spent a month at a hospital in Kenya, assisting a group of general surgeons in the operating room. During residency and fellowship, however, it was difficult to find a long enough stretch of time off to make a trip to a remote region possible. Years passed before the opportunity finally opened again—this time, with far more responsibility resting on my shoulders.

As I mentioned earlier in this blog, the desire to serve people in impoverished nations was one of the reasons I was first drawn to medicine. I had imagined that reaching this point in my training would bring nothing but excitement and peace: I would finally be doing what I had dreamed of since I was a little girl. When we first told Jake and Christy we were coming, that was exactly how I felt. Yet as we packed our bags and prepared to board the plane, my excitement began to mingle with a growing sense of unease. I was now a board-certified surgeon—not an assistant working under the guidance of someone more experienced. The responsibility for each case would rest with me. What if I did not perform an operation correctly? What if I caused irreversible damage to a vessel or nerve? How would I communicate with scrub techs who spoke only Spanish when I spoke so little? What if the suture or mesh I normally relied on was unavailable? This was the opportunity I had prayed and prepared for, but stepping out from under the wing of a more experienced surgeon made the stakes feel higher than ever.

That is where the Lord met my uncertainty with provision. On the first day, Christy operated alongside me and helped me become acquainted with the hospital, its routines, and its team. The surgical techs were incredibly capable and helpful, and despite the language barrier, we quickly found a rhythm. I was able to communicate which instruments and sutures I needed, where I needed retraction, and what the next step of the operation would be. What had felt intimidating before the case became surprisingly natural once we began working together.

Walking into an operating room in Honduras initially felt unfamiliar and distinctly different from entering one in the United States. Yet as soon as the case began, I found myself looking at the same anatomy and working through the same tissue planes I dissect in any typical operation. The surroundings were different, but the fundamentals of surgery were the same. I was especially impressed by how well the operating rooms functioned with the resources available. Each member of the team understood their role, anticipated what was needed, and kept the case moving. At times, I had to adapt to the sutures, needles, or mesh on hand rather than use the supplies I preferred in the United States, but those adjustments never diminished the team’s commitment to safe, effective care. The surgical techs were skilled and resourceful, and the CRNAs delivered excellent anesthesia. 

What began with fear ended in gratitude: for the Honduran team who welcomed me so generously, for the privilege of serving alongside them, and for the realization that stepping beyond what was familiar did not leave me less equipped—it showed me how much can be accomplished when faith, skill, and collaboration come together.

To Close

We had a wonderful week serving and spending time with our friends. Although arranging the trip was stressful, we’re so glad we went. There’s no perfect time; sometimes you just have to pick up the phone and set a date. At the end of the week, we also slowed down to explore the area, visit the coffee shop, and play board games with Jake and Christy.