My name is Kitty Candelaria.  My story begins in 1996.  My husband and I owned a construction company.  We had just completed work on Purdy Prison as a sub-contractor.  It was a long job with long hours and my husband, whose name was David, complained of being extremely tired.  I just explained it away as being age, long hours and stress but David insisted that it was more than that. 

     David had a physical around November 1996.  After a week David went back in for the results of his tests.  He called me from a pay phone and told me that the doctor said he had Hepatitis C.  Not knowing what Hepatitis C was, I confused it with Hepatitis A and thought he got it from eating in an unclean restaurant.  I instructed him to go to the Health Department for a shot.  He informed me that the doctor told him it wouldn't be that easy.  The doctor was sending David to a specialist.  I told David I was going with him from now on.

     David and I went to see a Gastroenterologist in the Puyallup area.  This meeting would set the tone for the rest of David's life.  The doctor asked David if he drank and David responded that he had one beer a day but quit when he was informed about his infection.  The doctor then went on to ask David if he had ever used I.V. Drugs.  David said "no".  The doctor continued to ask this question over and over again insisting that this was an I.V. Drug users disease.  The Doctor assumed that because  David was Puerto Rican, from New York, with a New York accent,  he had to of used I.V. Drugs.  This doctor went so far as to invite my husband out of the room and into the hall telling him, he could admit it now, I wouldn't hear.  This doctor told us to go home, he continued to state, "half of Europe has this virus and they'll die from something else before they die from this".  Our concerns went virtually unanswered.  Concerns like:  Was David infectious?  could I be infected? Could our two daughters be infected? How did David get this? Could David die?  How would our lives change?  There was no compassion!

     David was afraid of the liver biopsy process so it was easier to let it go based on the Gastroenterologist statement, that half of Europe has this virus and they'll die from something else before they die from Hepatitis C.  By the end of 1997 I had researched all that was available on the internet and I knew David needed that liver biopsy so, I found a very good Gastroenterologist and made an appointment for David.  We went through the biopsy only to be told that David was terminal.  That day still brings tears to my eyes.  David never cried but, I cried for months.  I finally pulled my self together and decided to fight.  I read everything I could about the liver and this virus.  I called the Health Department, the State pathologist, etc.  There was no help.  The phone calls left me with more questions than answers.  One question that stood out was "Where was the warning to the public"?   

     David was referred to the University Of Washington, Transplant Services Department.  While I was outwardly panicking, my David complained very little and he kept on working in the construction industry.  There were a lot of doctor appointments, local and at the University of Washington Medical Center.  He had blood draws, once or twice a month.

     David hated blood draws the most because, as the disease progressed he stopped healing properly causing the blood draw sites to bruise and look sore.  David always worried that his co-workers would see these sites and believe he was an I.V. drug user (seed planted by the original Gastroenterologist).  David believed everyone saw him as an I.V. drug user.  David never used I.V. drugs.  I say this now for my David, but for me it never mattered.  I loved him then and I love him now.

     Two weeks before Christmas 2000, David showed signs that the liver was shutting down.  Things became very hectic and is really a blur to me now.  David kept telling me he was dying and I told him "we would make it to transplant".  David began to swell with ascites and edema.  In an effort to stop the swelling, the doctors wanted to drain some of the fluids in his stomach.  The procedure was done on a Monday, March 5, 2001 and on Thursday, March 8, 2001 David was in Renal failure and I rushed him to the emergency room at St. Josephs Hospital in Tacoma, Washington.  That Saturday, March 10, 2001 the doctors told me David was in critical condition and was dying.  David was going in and out of a toxic coma. Within two hours David was being transported to the University of Washington, in hopes of receiving a liver transplant. 

     David lived two more weeks.  On March 24, 2001 at 6:00 a.m. while I laid next to him, my David died waiting for a liver transplant that never came.  His last wish was to get 10 more years and watch his girls graduate from school. 

     He was a wonderful man, father and husband.  He was a Vietnam era veteran which, was one of his risk factors.  Had my David known that Vietnam era veterans were at risk and the VA was and is testing for free, he would of been tested earlier and maybe he could of had more options instead of the only one he had (a transplant) and died waiting for.

     As I drove away from the hospital that morning I promised myself that I would do everything I could to inform the public and get everyone tested, in hopes of finding those infected, before they end up like David.

David Candelaria died March 24, 2001 from Hepatitis C.

He had just turned 46 years old.

This is our family in 1998 almost 3 years before David Died.  We miss him terribly but, we believe more
than ever in God and that David is with us.  We also now realize, that it's not how much we have in this life,
it's what we do with what we have (our time).

David quit his job 13 days after this picture and died one month and 10 days after that. 
This was the last family picture.