Bone Stem Cell Therapy for Jarrod McMurtrey

Praying Daddy Can Walk Again

Hi, my name is Zoey, and this is my daddy. He's smart and handsome. I push him to church in his wheelchair. We pray and ask God to help him walk again. I put bandaids on him when he falls because he gets sores that don’t heal for a long, long time. That's scary. My daddy has MS, the kind that makes you really sick, really fast, and it doesn't stop. He is only 34. He used to be an athlete. He loved to move.

Right now, my grandma takes care of Dada. She has to help him get from the wheelchair to the car. She has to help him in the bathroom at all hours of the night because he is too weak to do it himself. He has no feeling in his legs and feet. When he gets tired, his arms don't work right either. Sometimes he is so weak and tired that he falls out of his chair, and then the fire department comes to help him because Grandma isn't strong enough. He has to be careful not to choke on water. Dada can’t see anymore in one of his eyes, but he still reads to me every day. Sometimes he worries about being a burden when he just wants to be my strong dada.

Dada could have at least 3 or 4 more years to help me grow up if he gets bone stem cell therapy. He says I'm the reason he wants to live. To get help, he needs to go out of the country. It costs a lot more money than we have, so we need help.

If you could help us, my daddy would be able to walk on the beach with me, jump on the trampoline, make snow angels and snowmen, teach me how to camp and fish, and he could walk with me to go trick-or-treating. I could have more memories with Dada.