Kate’s Story:
When I was in my late teens, I was diagnosed with a rare condition called a venous malformation behind my right eye. My condition resulted in chronic pain and swelling. Though non-cancerous, venous malformations grow over time, ballooning until they rupture if left untreated. In my home in Nebraska, doctors didn’t know much about VMs (venous malformations) and could only suggest I continue monitoring it.
As a child, I had believed in Christ as my Savior, but I thought I was strong enough to handle the challenges of life, including my venous malformation. I met and married my husband after we worked together at Olive Garden. Later we moved to Texas and had two daughters.
Over these years, I knew I was living with a condition that would probably take my life if the VM ruptured. I researched extensively to find solutions, landing on an interventional radiologist in our home in Houston who was experienced at my condition and its treatment. I prepared to undergo sclerotherapy, a procedure which attempted to shrink the malformation and reduce pain.
The doctor told me that sclerotherapy would only buy time. Eventually I would need to have the mass resected—cut out—or a rupture would inevitably occur.
Before the procedure, I was advised it wouldn’t be smart to have any more children, because pregnancy causes accelerated growth and an increased risk of rupture. At the time, I considered our family complete. However, despite the risks involved, we had three more children in the following years. Meanwhile, the pain in my head and the growth of the malformation were ominous daily realities.
I was a determined woman, however, and moved forward with my jobs as wife and mother, health care professional and volleyball coach. Though daily I gambled against the rupture that would end my life, I was also frightened of the risks involved in an extremely complicated surgery. So I put it off.
Because my husband and I were both from Nebraska, we wanted to give our kids the experience of small-town life close to family. With excitement, we moved back to the Midwest into what we thought would be our forever home—a fixer-upper ranch home needing a lot of work.
We soon realized Nebraska wasn’t what we had imagined. My husband’s job was stressful, and the kids talked about sweet Texas sunshine when cold, dark winter days kept us inside. I realized I longed to move back. Suddenly, my husband was offered a promising job back in Texas.
Wasn’t this God’s provision?
Yet somehow the pressure of deciding about another move paralyzed me. Oddly, though I had lived for years with a condition that threatened my life daily, facing the decision to return to Texas—even after I thought I wanted to—triggered a crisis point in my life. I was overwhelmed, and the idea of telling my kids we were moving again gave me incredible guilt. I broke down emotionally.
This was the first time in my life that I actually cried out to God in desperation. I finally realized I wasn’t as strong as I thought. Only God had all the answers. God used my older sister and others to reassure me He knew best and I could trust Him with everything. Knowing my frailty, He also provided extra confirmation when my former boss from Houston called to offer me a full-time job. All the arrows pointed back to Texas, where God was weaving other plans into place.
A year or two after we moved back to Houston, I began the daunting task of looking for a surgeon capable of operating on my venous malformation. Pressure on my optic nerve was causing incredible pain, and waiting longer only posed the possibility of the VM growing too large to be operable. I wanted to be around for my five children to grow up. I knew I needed to go through with a huge procedure performed by a whole team of surgeons, but it was very scary. Surgery could end my life, cause a stroke, or radically alter life as I knew it.
Terrified by the risks, I backed out several weeks before my scheduled surgery. But when I called the office of one of my surgeons to cancel on a Friday, he was out that day. Office staff told me I would need to call back Monday to cancel the surgery with him personally.
That Sunday, God intervened while I was coaching my volleyball team. My surgeon called me from his personal cell phone. He had discovered that his son was married to my husband’s boss’s daughter. He had also been told I was ready to back out of surgery. He essentially took time from his weekend to talk me out of canceling my surgery, knowing my life depended on it. And even better, God knew I needed the reminder that He was in control. It was time to trust my team of surgeons, but especially to trust my sovereign God.
Surgery to remove a softball-sized mass from a person’s head is no small matter. But after the 12-hour surgery in April of 2023, I woke up. No stroke. Several complex surgeries later, I still deal with many eye problems, but I am alive, and God is working in my life.
A surgery in October 2024 to correct my eyelid’s blinking and closing functions did not turn out as we hoped. When I saw my eye for the first time following surgery, I cried. Maybe one day I will regain function of that eye and feel ready to share it with others. Meanwhile, I continue to patch my eye 100% of the time. Along with dealing with painful eye infections and three re-stitching procedures, I have continued to deal with people’s hurtful comments.
My long journey has included some of the darkest days of my life, along with some of the most rewarding. Loosening my perceived control over my life has ironically given me more victory than I ever felt before I cried out to God. When I am at my weakest, I can follow a downward spiral of self-pity. Or I can focus on knowing that God is good, God is great, and God is wise. No matter what I face, Christ in me will never be defeated.
