For the people that know me, they know I’m not very good at explaining how I feel. So, I’ll start with fact.

My favorite trip I’ve ever taken was to a small town in Senoia, Georgia with my dad because he found out that was where they filmed one of my favorite shows, The Walking Dead. So when I visited him in Georgia, he brought me. We took a tour of the town where they filmed the majority of seasons three through eight (seasons nine through eleven hadn’t been released yet), ate at a restaurant co-owned by one of the filmmakers and actors of the show, and visited a gift shop full of reference he hadn’t understood. It was a trip that got him to watch the show, and it was a long list of television shows we would watch together.

It wasn’t the only former filming set we visited. There was Covington, which saw another show I enjoyed filmed on their roads: The Vampire Diaries. But I don’t think I could get him to watch that one if I tried. When I was a lot younger, we watched a production team film at a diner near our home in North Carolina. I found out years later that was Homeland.

Everytime I visited him or whenever he came to North Carolina—which was a lot—he loved to go out and do things; compared to me, who is a homebody. Some of my fondest have included going to Festival in the Park, which always happens around his birthday, where he got me a homemade bookmark with a Chinese character and a cat on it; or going to Checker’s games when they played at home and seeing films like Jumanji or Top Gun: Maverick; and one of my favorites, which was a regular tradition right after Thanksgiving where we visited the Speedway race track for Christmas lights.

Recently, he got diagnosed with ALS.

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about the things he won’t be able to watch; things I know he would like, like The Long Walk or Orange is the New Black or Peaky Blinders. Shows that could have potentially been filmed nearby that we could visit the areas where they filmed because we’ve always found those things cool, and because he lives in Atlanta, that’s basically everywhere.

I think about the shows and films that are going to be released that he would like, but won’t be able to see because of the ALS.

And it kinda sucks.

Lou Gehrig’s disease, commonly known as Amyotrophic lateral scleosis, or ALS, is a rare motor neuron disease with no known cause and no known cure. It is a disease that leads to muscle weakness, going on to affect the muscles needed for movement, speaking, eating, and, eventually, breathing. It is fast progressing and money consuming, and it sucks and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. It was so far out of the realm of possibility in my mind that I never once, in a million years, imagined my dad would be diagnosed with it.

I don’t know where to begin with it. It’s my first time making a GoFundMe fundraiser, so I started with something I know is true.

My name is Kaylyn. My dad’s name is Barry and he has ALS. It has progressed to his motor functions in his body, meaning he can’t get around as well and is in need of assistance of getting around and eating. As I’m writing this, he says it’s progressed further to his speech. Because we live in different states, it’s hard to hear that difference over the phone. Because of the distance, our source of information and progress comes through phone conversations.

My dad started having issues with his mobility last year, and enough random falls led to him using a cane in October 2025. By December, he’d gotten worse and lost his job. In January 2026, he had to start using a walker and by mid-February, he used a scooter to get around. This progression was alarming, and at the time, ALS wasn’t a possibility in our minds, not after the doctors tested for it. He’d always had pain in his feet, and we assumed that it progressed enough to cause an issue. So, after some doctor’s visits, on March 28th, he went into surgery for a neck/spinal fusion and was expected to return home in a couple of months after completing in-patient rehab.

We expected to return to Atlanta when he got home and help out.

Unfortunately, the insurance would no longer cover for him to stay at a proper rehabilitation hospital, and had him bounced around those nursing homes that operated as a part-time rehabilitation facility. He started making less progress. In fact, instead of progress, he became gradually worse: difficulty pushing the remote or using his phone, needing assistance feeding himself, unable to scratch an itch, and an inability to walk. In the beginning, my mom and I deduced that it must have been from the lack of rehab he was getting compared to the rehabilitation hospital, but when he returned to the doctors for more MRI’s to check if he needed more surgery, it became clear it wasn’t a surgical issue.

So they tested for ALS again.

Lo and behold. On July 28th, they determined that my dad had ALS.

Trust that facing the news is not the easiest. It’s not easy knowing that your dad is going to die to a disease, let alone to one that does something like that to a person, that breaks down their muscles until they can’t move anymore, until they can’t breath on their own. I’d spent a long time leading up to that diagnosis thinking it wouldn’t be true.

And if you know my dad, then you know he’s someone that likes to help people, but might be too humble to ask for that help in return. And I know that many people have sent their love and their thoughts as support, but want to know if there’s more they can do.

I’m starting this GoFundMe because I wanted to help him with his medical bills, his COBRA insurance, and to help my mom cover the cost of going back and forth from North Carolina and Georgia because we want to be down there as much as we can before this disease takes him. I understand it’s a lot to ask for donations right now. I hate asking for money or help, just like him, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I felt like there was no other option. This fundraiser is to simply ease the stress of medical costs, and to make traveling back and forth as easy as possible.

Please know that there are no expectations for any of you to donate—your thoughts and your prayers are equally enough. Sharing this GoFundMe is enough. This page is for those who wish to offer a helping hand if they wish, and if they do, it would be greatly appreciated.