This is my bonus daughter, Naya.
Five years ago, an eight-year-old Naya fought for her life. What started as Influenza A turned into heart failure, then organ failure. Her body was shutting down. The only thing keeping her alive was ECMO—a last-resort form of life support that takes over for the heart and lungs when they can no longer function on their own.
And it worked.
Today marks five years since Naya came off ECMO. Five years since a little girl got to keep growing up, laughing, learning, and being loved by the people who fought so hard for her.
But not every child will get that chance.
When decisions are made about healthcare—about hospitals, about services, about science, about what stays and what gets cut—we hear words like “efficiency.” But behind those conversations are real people. Kids like Naya. Families like hers. When we gut our institutions in the name of cost savings, we take away lifelines.
We make survival a privilege instead of a possibility. We cannot afford to let this happen.
Naya survived because everything worked together. Because doctors, nurses, researchers, and scientists had the tools they needed. Because institutions like NIH fund innovations that make ECMO possible. Because academic institutions train the experts who know how to use it. Because public health programs (often guided by CDC recommendations) promote vaccines that can prevent cases like hers before they ever get this far.
And yet, right now, those very systems are being dismantled—stripped down under the guise of reform. The same institutions that saved Naya’s life are being defunded and undermined—illegally, behind closed doors. And the consequences will not be abstract. They will be real. They will be measured in lives.
Through it all, I am reminded of the power of community. Naya’s mom, brought that back into focus for me today—how people showed up, how they wrapped around her family, how they made sure she was never alone. That kind of community is what keeps people going when the unimaginable happens.
We must protect the institutions that save lives. That means supporting funding, pushing for transparency, and demanding accountability. Because none of us can do this alone. And none of us should have to.
So today, I celebrate Naya. I celebrate her strength, her story, her five years. And I recognize the community that held her—and continues to hold so many others.