There’s a picture in her office at Queen’s Medical Center. Not just another framed memory, but a reminder of a turning point. A woman—injured in the Pentagon attack of 2001—smiles faintly from a hospital bed, her family gathered close. Dr. Elizabeth Ignacio ’89 is beside her, speaking in Tagalog, helping the patient bridge language and fear.
The woman’s question wasn’t about survival. It was simple, almost childlike: “Doctor, will I ever dance again?”
That moment lodged deep in Ignacio’s heart. Achievements, titles, résumés—suddenly small. Family, love, movement, and joy—suddenly everything.
A Life Built on Sacrifice and Drive
Elizabeth was born in Manila, where her father was a respected pilot and her mother a physician. When the family moved to Hawai‘i for better opportunities, her father made the quiet but monumental choice to stay home with the children while her mother built her career. That sacrifice defined her.
Her childhood dreams were quirky—first a wrestler, then a boxer—but medicine called. At ‘Iolani she thrived, winning scholarships and honors, later excelling at Georgetown in academics, athletics, and the arts. She pushed into spaces where few women had gone before, one of the rare female residents in orthopedic surgery at Georgetown Medical Center.
But drive alone doesn’t sustain a person. Her husband, David Kostecki, became her anchor, supporting her through the storm of medical training and the challenge of carving out a place in a male-dominated field.
Finding Balance After 9/11
Then came 9/11, and with it, perspective. Elizabeth and David started a family and faced a choice: raise their children in St. Louis or Hawai‘i. The pull of ‘ohana won.
Now a mother of two and a full-time orthopedic surgeon, Ignacio pours herself into both worlds: medicine and family. She serves as an assistant professor at UH’s John A. Burns School of Medicine, treats UH athletes, and still finds time to sit with kindergarteners for story hour.
And yet—there’s the piano. Long forgotten, rediscovered when she was asked to play for an Aloha Medical Mission benefit. Practicing with her children slipping coins under the keys, she laughed through the “clicks” in the music. The concerts rekindled her love for service, connecting her back to her mother’s legacy of giving time and skills freely.
Giving Back, Moving Forward
Ignacio’s life is layered with service: volunteering with the Aloha Medical Mission, joining the board of the American Diabetes Association, speaking to students, guiding athletes, planning new programs for women’s health. Each step echoes that patient’s question: Will I ever dance again?
For Ignacio, the answer is yes. And the dance isn’t about the perfect steps—it’s about showing up, giving what you can, and finding meaning beyond accolades.
Her story leaves us with a lesson: it’s not about the career and the achievements—it’s about what you do with what you have.