By Chad Morris
One of my dreams is coming true. Cragbridge Hall, Book 1: The Inventor’s Secret hits shelves in just over a week. But lately, I don’t think much about it. You see, that dream is being overshadowed by a much more important one—that my daughter gets all the chances in the world.
Let me explain. My wife started noticing that my nine-year-old girl would tuck her hand in next to her side subconsciously—a strange way to relax. Then, one day as my girl helped in the kitchen—which she loves to do—my wife tossed her an avocado. It hit her chest and fell to the floor.
“Why didn’t you catch it?” my wife asked.
“That hand doesn’t work very well,” my girl responded.
So my wife called the doctor, who told us to take her to Primary Children’s Hospital immediately. An MRI later, we found out . . . well . . . my little girl has a golf-ball-sized tumor pressing up against her brain.
You can imagine all that followed: plenty of tears, fears, questions, sleepless nights, prayers, and sucking it up to stay positive in front of a scared nine-year-old. A girl with a quick smile. A girl who loved being on a basketball team even though the only time she touched the ball was when she threw it in. A girl who said, “Mom, guess who is going to hilarify you? Me! Look I drew pictures of babies with mustaches.” A girl who is shy even among friends, but who will sing a solo crisp and clear in front of hundreds of people. A girl who works slowly on her school assignments, but seems to get everything right.
To sum it up, a part of me is terrified. There is a long list of possible complications. She could lose portions of her eyesight, some coordination in the left side of her body, and might have to be on a slew of shots and pills for the rest of her life. I wish that was the entire list.
But I’m also hopeful, really hopeful. The type of tumor my daughter has isn’t usually cancerous, though it is very problematic. One of the best neurosurgeons in the nation is set to remove as much of it as he safely can tomorrow morning. Plus, I’ve been surprised at the hundreds of people who offered help and prayers. I offer my own barrage of prayers, and so do my wife and four boys. And I believe it all makes a difference.
So, my book is coming out, but I don’t think about it much. Writing, you play second fiddle to a beautiful brave nine-year-old girl. You’ll have to wait and see what time I have for you. I have a more important dream right now.