My name is Adrianna Hernandez, and I am writing this because my father passed away on July 14th, and I am trying to raise funds for his memorial service.

For those of you that have been following our journey, you know that my father had a major stroke in August 2023; he collapsed and almost died in my arms when we were literally in the doctor’s parking lot, on our way to his appointment to figure out what was wrong. My dad and I have always been very close, and I had known that something was wrong for months, but my dad was very stubborn and kept avoiding the doctor until that moment. I guess it was a twisted form of “good luck” because it happened when we were right across the street from the hospital emergency room. Once admitted to the ER, I found out that he had a smaller stroke sometime earlier in the year (when I started noticing things were “off”), and we just didn’t know, and then he had this larger stroke in August.

Since August 2023, it has been the most difficult journey of my life as I’ve held my dad up all by myself. In the early days, my dad would fall out of bed in the nursing homes, his mind would reset every 10 minutes, he would call for me, terrified and angry that the nursing home staff were going to harm him. After my dad struggled in the nursing homes, which were always supposed to be very temporary, the insurance gave me 48 hours to figure out where to place my father. He already had been refusing to eat for a couple of weeks, and I was worried that he was giving up. I knew I couldn’t take care of my dad without hiring someone to help. After looking at a few homes, I was able to find a local board and care home to place my dad, and he started eating normally and thriving despite the odds. He was improving enough for outpatient therapy sessions, and I was able to take him to Casa Colina by myself, and we would get tacos together and visit my dog, Daphne, afterwards. He was getting stronger; I was very grateful that he seemed to be getting better, and I truly believed that I would be able to bring him home with me within a few months as we worked on his rehab. My dad started walking again with a walker, and he was gaining more independence. I had so much hope during those months.

Then, in June 2024, an onslaught of complications ensued. He was hospitalized for abdominal pain, and then the doctors said he had Acute Urinary Retention and just decided to insert a Foley catheter and leave it because my dad was “older” and “that’s just what happens”. I was confused because my dad was urinating normally; I felt even in those moments that the catheter didn’t need to be there. My gut instincts turned out to be right because the Foley catheter made him really sick, leading to a complicated UTI, sepsis, and AFIB. Then, he got another infection in the hospital, CDIFF, and went septic again, refusing to eat and wasting away. Because he didn’t want to eat, his stomach acid tore up his stomach lining, and he started losing a lot of blood, so he was transferred to the ICU to have the ulcers cauterized and a blood transfusion, and then he was a little bit more stable. I was finally able to convince my dad to eat when I was desperate enough to just straight up bring him a veggie burger from Carl’s Jr. (his favorite). I also insisted that the catheter be removed, and they reluctantly did, and he never “needed” it again.

My dad was hospitalized for over two months during this time, and once he got back to his board and care home, he never quite recovered to where he was, and he never got strong enough to walk again. He also even contracted COVID during this time, and I was so worried, but he overcame that obstacle, too. I got sick a few times last year, and I was so anxious that I would get my dad sick, but I also knew that it would be worse for him if I wasn’t there with him every day as his anchor to reality. Luckily, I never got him sick. I still fought for his recovery, doing his exercises with him each day, and then his physical and occupational therapists would come each week. We all worked really hard to help to get him back to where he was prior to the two month hospitalization, and he started to improve, but just at a much slower pace this time around.

He improved very slowly after this, and then he seemed a bit more tired last month. I couldn’t quite pinpoint it because all of his vitals were stable (I had been monitoring those closely since that intense hospitalization last year), but he was just very tired and not talking as much. Then, last week, he had a slight cough and he was eating much more slowly than usual, and he wasn’t eager to eat. He started closing his eyes while he was eating…he started “pocketing” his food…and I was worried that it was a decline with vascular dementia from the strokes. I also noticed that his hip seemed swollen, so we took him to the ER. We found out that he had pneumonia, but he seemed to be slightly improving on Thursday…then a decline on Friday when he wouldn’t wake up (but still had strong vitals) and so they didn’t give him any food or oral meds…then he was more alert on Saturday. I pushed for a swallow evaluation on Saturday to try to get approval for him to eat, but the hospital was delaying this and being evasive…they finally told me that the speech therapists aren’t usually there on the weekends. I was worried because my dad needed to eat.

When I left him on Saturday evening, my dad weakly whispered, “ I love you.” These were my father’s last words that he ever spoke because he declined on Sunday, and then he coded 6-7 times on Monday. I held him while his heart stopped beating, and I told him that it was ok to let go. I think that he knew it was his time because he did give me that final gift of letting me know that he loved me on Saturday.

I am in shock. I always held on to the hope that my dad would get better, and now he’s gone. Throughout this entire process, I have handled my dad’s care entirely by myself (emotionally and financially). Not a single member of my dad’s family ever came to visit, helped with even one dollar, or even one pack of diapers or anything. My dad’s care costs were approx. $65,000 a year ($60,000 for the board and care home, and about $5000 for supplies, co-pays, extra snacks & vitamins, etc.). I centered my entire life around my dad during this time, and I went broke paying for all of his care, but I would do it all again because it was the least I could do to be there for the man who raised me. Even though I’m traumatized, I am grateful that I was able to be there for my dad every single day over the past two years.

I wanted to give this background story because now I would like to honor my father’s life with a small memorial service. I’m inviting his friends, his caregivers, and some of my friends to celebrate his life with food, drinks (non-alcoholic), my dad’s favorite music, and people sharing some of their favorite memories of my dad. Because of all of the financial strain of my dad’s care costs over the past two years, I am just asking if anyone is able to donate to help to put this together to honor my father. It would mean the world to me during this excruciating time.

Thank you for reading this, and thank you to everyone who has cared about my dad.

If you would like, you could also donate to my Venmo (@dawnchantel).

If you would like to donate through CashApp or Zelle, just privately message me, and I can give you those details as well.

Honoring my father now and forever,

Adrianna Hernandez

Kenneth Wayne Hernandez, Sr.

August 23, 1949 - July 14, 2025