A few nights ago, our lives changed forever.

At around 8:30 PM, I found my dad lying on the kitchen floor after suffering a stroke. I immediately tried talking to him and asked him to squeeze my hands. He couldn't squeeze my right hand, and the left side of his body wouldn't move.

We rushed him to the nearest hospital as fast as we could, hoping every minute would count.

After he was stabilized, we were told that he urgently needed to be seen by a neurologist to determine whether he required brain surgery. Unfortunately, the first hospital wasn't equipped to provide the specialized neurological care he needed.

What followed were some of the longest and most terrifying hours of our lives.

We desperately searched for a hospital that could accept him. It took nearly eight hours before we were finally able to transfer him to Parañaque Doctors Hospital, where he was immediately evaluated by a neurologist.

Thankfully, the neurologist determined that my dad did not need surgery. Instead, he would begin intensive medical treatment and close monitoring. He spent several days in the ICU before being transferred to a regular room.

Although we were grateful that he had survived, we began noticing changes. The dad we knew—who responded, showed emotion, and interacted with us—became quiet, expressionless, and barely spoke after leaving the ICU. We know stroke recovery is unpredictable, and we're holding onto hope that with the right rehabilitation and care, he can regain what he has lost.

He has now been discharged and is finally home.

But another difficult chapter has begun.

Today, we hired a caregiver to help us care for him. After only a short time, the caregiver honestly told us that my dad's condition required more support than she could provide and had to leave.

We are heartbroken.

Our family is doing everything we can, but we are simply not equipped to provide the level of care my dad now needs. I am not trained in stroke caregiving, and I physically cannot lift or safely transfer him. We are terrified of accidentally hurting him or delaying his recovery because we don't have the skills or resources to care for him properly.

After speaking with healthcare professionals and seeing how much assistance he needs, we believe that the safest option is to admit him to a professional rehabilitation or nursing facility where he can receive 24-hour care, proper therapy, medication management, and rehabilitation.

Unfortunately, the monthly cost of a facility is far beyond what our family can afford.

This is why we are humbly asking for your help.

Every donation, no matter how small, will go toward:

Monthly fees for a rehabilitation or nursing facility

Physical, occupational, and speech therapy

Medical supplies and medications

Follow-up consultations and recovery-related expenses

If you're unable to donate, sharing this campaign with your family, friends, and community would mean just as much to us.

Our dad has always been the one who cared for our family. Now, it's our turn to fight for him.

We still believe recovery is possible.

We just need help getting him there.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for reading our story, for your prayers, for your kindness, and for giving our family hope during the hardest time we've ever faced.

With gratitude,

Warren Family