First Things First

Before I begin, I need to thank you.  

If you're here, you've probably already been praying for Katie, for me, and for our family.  We've heard of people saying that they were sustained by others' prayers, but I don't think that we've ever felt it, at least not like this.  The outpouring of well-wishes, prayers, masses said in Kate's honor, fasting, and offers for help have been humbling, and your kindness has brought me to tears more times than I care to say.  Thank you.  

Please continue to lift up Kate, me, and the kids in prayer.  Please also lift up our amazing families, especially our parents.  I don't know what we would do without Paul & Tina and my Mom & Dad (Martha & Hector, but if feels weird for me to call them by their names).  They need your prayers as we all work together to fill the mom-shaped void in my family's day-to-day life.

OK - back to the beginning.

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On Monday, February 8, 2016, Katie and I woke up at 4:00 am.  Well, I woke up a 4 am.  Katie woke up at 4:30.  Because Katie LOVES sleep, and what mother of 4 young children doesn't?  Though if you know Kate well, you know that she loved sleep long before we had any kids. 

My mom arrived at our house around 5 to watch the kids for the day, and Katie and I got in the car to head across town to the hospital.  Katie was scheduled for surgery at 7:30.  Nothing major - just a little hernia that had been bugging her.  We'd been to the surgeon the prior Friday and his guess matched ours - a spigelian hernia, likely caused by the herculean task of delivering Andrew, our 4th and squirmiest child, sunny side up.  The doctor had been recommended by my sister the anesthesiologist, who had seen him work many times and regarded him as one of the best surgeons in Houston.  We'd be home by noon.  Two, maybe three weeks of taking it easy, maybe I'd work from home a few days, a little help from our moms - no big deal.  

The surgery was supposed to last 30-35 minutes.  45 tops.  At a little over an hour, the doctor finally came out to the waiting room to talk to me, and I was in no way prepared for what he was about to say.  Let me first explain that Dr. G is a man of few words.  Excellent with a knife, but his words are few and far between.  I think the consultation with him the past Friday lasted about 60 seconds.  Maybe 2 minutes.  

"Mr. Garcia, we did not find a hernia.  Instead, we found a tumor on your wife's appendix about this big (holds hands up to indicate something a little smaller than your fist).  I removed the hernia as well as three to four inches of intestines on either side, about 8 inches total - 4 of the large intestine, and 4 of the small intestine, then I reconnected the small to the large intestine."  

They did not yet know whether the tumor was cancerous, and wouldn't know for a few days.  Until then, she'd be admitted to the hospital for recovery.  She'd likely be there for a few days before being discharged.  

Thursday morning, the doctor arrived around 9 am to let us know that Katie was being discharged and that the lab had confirmed that the tumor and four lymph nodes that had been removed were cancerous.  We spoke to the on-call oncologist briefly before packing up and going home in a daze.  We had more questions than they had answers, and we would just have to live with the questions for the moment. 

At home Thursday afternoon, Katie's condition worsened.  Medication did not help.  We were soon faced with the difficult reality that after just coming home, we needed to go back.  Katie needed to go to the ER.  After much consideration, and some gentle prodding from my sister and Kate's father, we agreed not to go back to the original hospital.  Instead, we would take Katie to the MD Anderson Emergency Room.  They are the undisputed champions of cancer care in Houston, and arguably the United States, if not the world.  I am so grateful that we made this choice. 

That night, I learned that not only is MD Anderson home to the best cancer care available, but it is perhaps the best run hospital I've ever experienced.  Brief aside that I've had roughly 10 surgeries myself throughout my life, so I'm no stranger to hospitals.  The doctors and nurses there got to work on her quickly.  Dr. C informed us that though the hospital is focused on cancer treatment, the cancer was not the focus that night.  Their goal was to diagnose and fix Katie's immediate problems - pain, nausea, and vomiting.  Cancer diagnosis and treatment would come later - after they had resolved whatever complication Katie was experiencing.  

They ordered a CT Scan to get a better picture of the surgical site and see what was wrong.  It was about 11 pm when they took her to get scanned.  At around 1 am, Dr. C came in with the results of the CT Scan, which she handed to me, and proceeded to say that Katie had an ileus - a very common complication of gastro-intestinal surgery.  She informed us that they know exactly what it is, they've healed it a million times, and know just what to do to get Katie back on track.  

Have you ever heard of the term "burying the lead?"  In storytelling, it's when you spend a lot of time talking about something tangential, then mention the most important thing as an aside, as if it were unimportant.  

When she handed me the CT results, Dr. C had buried the lead - big time.  

My sister (the anesthesiologist) was with us that night, and I handed her the results so she could interpret them for us.  As she read, she got more and more excited.  The scan revealed no signs of lesions in her liver, gallbladder, pancreas, spleen, adrenals, kidneys, uterus, lymph nodes, lungs, or bones.  In other words, the CT scan found no sign of cancer from her neck down through her hips.  

Praise God!

Now, we know that this preliminary scan is not the final word.  There are a number of reasons why it may not have seen everything, but for the first time all week, we had some concrete good news.  We pray that further tests and studies confirm these results.  

True to their word, a full work-up and diagnosis is the second priority right now - the first is helping Kate recover. As of this writing, Katie is in the hospital at MD Anderson, recovering from the ileus - essentially a blockage in her small intestines.  The treatment is to rest the intestines and to walk.  Resting the intestines means that nothing goes in, not even the bile and other fluids that the stomach naturally produces.  To that end, Katie has a Nasal-Gastro tube going to her stomach through her nose to continuously suck out those fluids; it is as uncomfortable as it sounds.  She has a pain medication pump to help with pain and periodically gets nausea medication to help with that, too.  She has an IV delivering all the nutrition her body needs.  She is getting out of bed to walk the halls many times a day, and the doctors say that the walking is the best treatment - it helps the intestines to heal and to wake up in preparation for being put back into active service.  The medications and the natural fatigue of her body working to heal itself make her sleepy.  The NG tube makes it hard to talk, but she is in good spirits.  

She is recovering well, but it's been a tough week to say the least, and there's a lot more hard work ahead for her.  She likely has a few more days - maybe as much as a week or more - worth of recovery from the ileus before she can come home.  

We haven't yet started the staging study to get a full diagnosis of the cancer, nor have we chosen an oncologist or started to develop a treatment plan.  This is just the beginning of this journey.  Thank you for walking with us.  Your prayers have sustained us this far.  Please continue to pray for us - we need you.  

If you are interested in donating to help with our costs, we would be immensely grateful, and you can do so at our YouCaring site:

Kate's YouCaring

May God richly bless you.  Thank you for your prayers - we love you!

David