A family who's lost their voice, Ayala Family
Donation protected
Working over twelve hours a day, seven days a week, my father’s one real passion and method of relaxation was to sing. It became a part of our family’s routine and after graduating and returning home, I did not expect anything to have changed.
In April of 2019 my father began to noticeably lose his voice. Upon examination, it was concluded to have been throat polyps which we were told could be removed with a simple surgery. Weeks passed after the surgery and his voice continued to fade. We proceeded to get a second opinion from other doctors who identified a strange mass on his left vocal cords. A tissue sample was extracted and sent away for testing. The results tested positive for Carcinoma in situ; the growth of abnormal cells which have yet to spread and become cancerous.
He began radiation in June, every day for six weeks awaiting his voice to return.
The radiation and testing eventually came to an end and they pronounced him "cured". The weeks that followed only grew worse as my father's voice began to crack and become a whisper. We proceeded to receive a third opinion this time which led to further scans and extractions, revealing that the radiation treatment had failed. Rather than kill the abnormal cells, the treatment he underwent aggravated and progressed the mass to spread and become cancerous. What was originally a small mass within his left vocal cord, had now become a tumor within his vocal cords and right cervical lymph node.
On December 24th an emergency tracheotomy was performed to save my father from suffocation.
December 25th, Christmas, I spent the day and night watching over him on my own.
December 26th, he finally gave up on his voice.
Seeing as how my mother was our only source of income and my sister was away studying for her degree, our father became my responsibility. As my mother and sister forced themselves to continue their daily routine, I would reassure them of his condition.
Upon discussion amongst the doctors, it was decided that my father's only option left was a total laryngectomy. The soonest available date for this procedure was February 10th, and so began my father's new life of silence. Over the next month I spent my time pulling out and cleaning my father's new airway as well as redressing and tending to him 24 hours a day. By the day of the surgery, my father had lost 50lbs due to his inability to swallow from the tumor's rapid growth. But that did not stop my father's newfound hope as he was told that a laryngectomy would allow him to speak through other methods granting him a new voice. His siblings reassured him that the worst had come to pass and that when he awoke, he would be on the path of learning to speak to again. He was optimistically sent off and put to sleep for his life changing thirteen-hour surgery.
Instead of family, my father awoke to doctors. The cancer was far too advanced, having wrapped around his corroded artery as well as throughout the nerves of his cervical spine. This rendered the surgery a fatal option and so they closed him back up to tell him the news. Having regained hope and expecting the elusive road to recovery we had all been chasing after, he now woke to the sight of an unwelcomed feeding tube protruding from his stomach as well as the revelation of his limited time. When my father asked why this had happened to him who had never smoked or excessively drank, the only response Doctors could give was simply bad luck.
Since then my father's life has become one of appointments, testing, and unpleasant experiences. My mother must continue to provide, and my sister continues to pursue her degree as our father wants.
Cleaning my father, feeding and administering medication through his peg, regulating his machinery, attending appointments, have all become my daily routine. My father has lost many things with his voice and his smile being but a few. He has also lost the ability to sleep at night and so have I. My day begins at 8 AM with his first feeding and ends at 4am on an easy day, and so I've accustomed myself to regain my rest between his feedings when possible. Although I have no complaints for accompanying my father down his path, we both find ourselves feeling powerless. I have given up on securing a job and cannot help ease the burden on my mother's shoulders. On various occasions I've watched the mishandling of my father's trach, the aggressive pull of his collar, and the few afraid to approach when his throat and shirt were covered in blood. My father refuses to have a nurse, and frankly I want to be the one to care for him during his last year.
This GoFundMe is my attempt to speak out and hopefully give back to my father for all he has done for us. For all the bills I should have long ago been able to help with, for all the medical fees any person my age could have contributed towards, and most importantly to alleviate my father's worries of leaving us financially unstable. Please donate to restore our voice.
In April of 2019 my father began to noticeably lose his voice. Upon examination, it was concluded to have been throat polyps which we were told could be removed with a simple surgery. Weeks passed after the surgery and his voice continued to fade. We proceeded to get a second opinion from other doctors who identified a strange mass on his left vocal cords. A tissue sample was extracted and sent away for testing. The results tested positive for Carcinoma in situ; the growth of abnormal cells which have yet to spread and become cancerous.
He began radiation in June, every day for six weeks awaiting his voice to return.
The radiation and testing eventually came to an end and they pronounced him "cured". The weeks that followed only grew worse as my father's voice began to crack and become a whisper. We proceeded to receive a third opinion this time which led to further scans and extractions, revealing that the radiation treatment had failed. Rather than kill the abnormal cells, the treatment he underwent aggravated and progressed the mass to spread and become cancerous. What was originally a small mass within his left vocal cord, had now become a tumor within his vocal cords and right cervical lymph node.
On December 24th an emergency tracheotomy was performed to save my father from suffocation.
December 25th, Christmas, I spent the day and night watching over him on my own.
December 26th, he finally gave up on his voice.
Seeing as how my mother was our only source of income and my sister was away studying for her degree, our father became my responsibility. As my mother and sister forced themselves to continue their daily routine, I would reassure them of his condition.
Upon discussion amongst the doctors, it was decided that my father's only option left was a total laryngectomy. The soonest available date for this procedure was February 10th, and so began my father's new life of silence. Over the next month I spent my time pulling out and cleaning my father's new airway as well as redressing and tending to him 24 hours a day. By the day of the surgery, my father had lost 50lbs due to his inability to swallow from the tumor's rapid growth. But that did not stop my father's newfound hope as he was told that a laryngectomy would allow him to speak through other methods granting him a new voice. His siblings reassured him that the worst had come to pass and that when he awoke, he would be on the path of learning to speak to again. He was optimistically sent off and put to sleep for his life changing thirteen-hour surgery.
Instead of family, my father awoke to doctors. The cancer was far too advanced, having wrapped around his corroded artery as well as throughout the nerves of his cervical spine. This rendered the surgery a fatal option and so they closed him back up to tell him the news. Having regained hope and expecting the elusive road to recovery we had all been chasing after, he now woke to the sight of an unwelcomed feeding tube protruding from his stomach as well as the revelation of his limited time. When my father asked why this had happened to him who had never smoked or excessively drank, the only response Doctors could give was simply bad luck.
Since then my father's life has become one of appointments, testing, and unpleasant experiences. My mother must continue to provide, and my sister continues to pursue her degree as our father wants.
Cleaning my father, feeding and administering medication through his peg, regulating his machinery, attending appointments, have all become my daily routine. My father has lost many things with his voice and his smile being but a few. He has also lost the ability to sleep at night and so have I. My day begins at 8 AM with his first feeding and ends at 4am on an easy day, and so I've accustomed myself to regain my rest between his feedings when possible. Although I have no complaints for accompanying my father down his path, we both find ourselves feeling powerless. I have given up on securing a job and cannot help ease the burden on my mother's shoulders. On various occasions I've watched the mishandling of my father's trach, the aggressive pull of his collar, and the few afraid to approach when his throat and shirt were covered in blood. My father refuses to have a nurse, and frankly I want to be the one to care for him during his last year.
This GoFundMe is my attempt to speak out and hopefully give back to my father for all he has done for us. For all the bills I should have long ago been able to help with, for all the medical fees any person my age could have contributed towards, and most importantly to alleviate my father's worries of leaving us financially unstable. Please donate to restore our voice.
Organizer
Austin Ayala
Organizer
Harrison, NY