- K
- D
Hi, my name is Bingoy Gonzales, and I never imagined I’d be writing something like this, again.
It’s never easy to ask for help. But right now, we are at a point in our journey where we humbly and quietly reach out in hope, and in faith.
Some of you may already know Katrina’s story. For many, this may be the first time.
Kat, my beloved wife of 22 years, 3 months, and 3 days was diagnosed with Stage 3 ovarian cancer on June 6, 2024. Just twelve days later, she underwent major surgery to remove her reproductive organs in the hope of clearing the tumors. The very next day, she suffered a heart complication (myocardial ischemia) and a stroke. The cancer had thickened her blood, causing dangerous clots.
By God’s grace and through the prayers of friends, family, and even strangers she survived. We were discharged by the end of June. Looking back, we often asked ourselves how this could have happened. Our quiet suspicion has always been the COVID vaccinations but no answers can change where we are now.
July began a long and uncertain road, one we are still walking. Chemotherapy, immunotherapy, PET-CT scans, transfusions, fluid drainage, and countless lab tests became our new routine. The cost - emotionally, physically, and financially has been immense. But time and again, we have been blessed by the generosity of loved ones and the mercy of God.
Through it all, Kat never gave up. We changed our lifestyle, embraced daily exercise, and started a healthy food regimen. There were hopeful moments. Small victories. But with each new round of chemo and there have been four the cancer returned. Stronger. More widespread. Harder to treat.
And the pain began to take hold. It started as discomfort. Then progressed to relentless, almost unbearable pain. Ascites - fluid buildup in her abdomen made breathing and eating difficult. Even simple movement became exhausting.
In late October, during the week of our 22nd wedding anniversary, she began having shortness of breath. We thought it was just fatigue from treatment. But on October 31, she was rushed to the ICU. A massive blood clot had traveled from her leg to both lungs - a pulmonary embolism. Her heart was already struggling. We came terrifyingly close to losing her.
After 15 days in the hospital and an abdominal catheter to drain fluid, she came home weaker and unable to eat. Her pulmonologist later told us that her survival that night was nothing short of a miracle. And her cancer had spread to her liver and spleen. She is now Stage 4.
Two weeks later, we were back in the ER. Kat was still in pain, still unable to eat and frequently vomiting. She was placed on Total Parenteral Nutrition (TPN), a solution that fed her through a catheter into her heart. Another pigtail catheter was placed to continue draining fluid. Then came hospital-acquired pneumonia, more infections, and even more medications. When the fluid stopped draining, she began undergoing manual fluid extraction through a procedure called paracentesis. Still, she fought on.
She was discharged again on December 20, but only two days later, she spiked a high fever after chemo. We spent Christmas in the hospital. There was no celebration — just quiet prayers and small sips of water. We returned home on December 26.
It is now early morning on December 31, New Year’s Eve. In a few hours, I will be taking Kat back to the ER. Her latest blood tests show dangerously low electrolytes and worsening nausea. She is frail. She can barely eat. Her body is thin and tired — but her faith is still unshaken. She continues to pray. She continues to believe.
Throughout this journey, our family has done so much more than we could ever ask. But the medical bills are now overwhelming. Chemotherapy, emergency admissions, imaging, lab tests, life-sustaining procedures, and medications have drained all our savings. We are now on our fifth line of chemotherapy - a final option after the first four failed.
And so we are reaching out. Humbly. Quietly. If you feel led to help us through a donation, by sharing our story, or by lifting us up in prayer, we will carry that kindness in our hearts, always.
We may not know you personally, but if you’re reading this, you’ve already given us the gift of your time and care. That means the world to us.
Thank you. And may God bless you for your compassion.
With all our love,
Bingoy & Katrina Gonzales

