FROM OUR HOST, AMBER BROWNING-COYLE:

March 30, 1990 my Aunt brought home a bouncing baby girl named Kathryn Elizabeth. At the time my ten year old self wanted nothing less than to be “Babysitter of the Year” and I was ecstatic when I was told I could be mother’s helper. Over the next ten years, I became extremely close with this precocious and spirited little person, babysitting often and even traveling three hours from college on the biggest party night of the year to take her trick or treating. Kathryn, or Katie, was excited about her birthday from day one, and as soon as she could speak “March Firtief” was her toddler reply when asked her birthday. Many a “March Firtief” were spent over cake, ice cream, and various day trips to celebrate together, and the toddler reply of her birthday had become our little joke long after she learned to say “thirtieth” correctly. We were very close.

Which is why I was DEVESTATED when she was diagnosed with Leukemia at the age of 11. Our lives came to a screeching halt. Her little body had been working so hard to keep her alive, and her avid swimming had quite literally saved her life. Her doctor had done a blood test, thinking she had asthma, and upon receiving the results ordered her to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia immediately, where she would stay for over a year and receive outstanding care.

Over the next year, filled with angst and anxiety, I traveled often the three hours to visit her in the hospital as she received the chemotherapy that would save her life. One day, a nurse would not let me stay with her as I was not “immediate family” and Katie quickly replied that I was her sister, allowing me all-access to her and, consequently, bringing us even closer with the new title of “sister.” For my Senior recital in college, Katie so badly wanted to be present that she sang songs in an effort to make her little white blood cells increase so she could make the trek to DC to be there for a momentous event in my life.

I took Katie to many doctor’s appointments, to give my Aunt and Uncle some help. “Spinal tap” is what I was told one fall day, and I thought nothing of it, that is until I saw the near foot long needle that was being injected into her little back. I held Katie’s hand and tried to keep her spirits up, as she endured what has been called “the most painful medical procedure to man” and I swear I felt the pain in my own back. I described it like ET, when Elliot feels the pain the alien endured during tests, and had tears in my eyes to match those in hers. It was one of the most moving events of my life, and the strength and bravery of this little girl at such a painful moment has stayed with me.

I’m elated to say Katie is now officially cancer-free, and is now a social worker, inspired by the social workers that she met throughout her treatment, and I am so incredibly proud of the woman she has become. Our bond is strong, and it is unbreakable.

“March Firtief” is the day that my little sister was born, and the day that the person that would truly teach me empathy came to the world. Katie’s Leukemia, her strength, the treatments, social workers who helped her, and our desire to help her in any way we could, started the seed that would become Spotlight On. In this way, we honor her by launching on the same day as her birth. Happy “March Firtief” everyone, and Happy Birthday Katie! I love you, little sister!