“I Live:”
A Story of Hope and Healing
I’m not sure there are many words that carry the same weight and enormity as the word cancer. Whether it touches a parent, sibling, friend, or oneself, it arrives as an unwelcome intruder—heavy with fear and uncertainty.
On a June day in 2016, a dear friend of mine was forced to face that life-altering word. As we held each other in a tearful embrace, I knew Dawn’s life would never be the same. Yet even in that moment, I also knew—true to who she is—that Dawn would meet this challenge head-on, with courage and determination.
More than nine years later, we found ourselves sitting together in her newly renovated home, a long-awaited dream finally brought to life. Sunlight streamed through the bay window across the new floors onto her beautiful island countertop. For years, we had dreamed up design plans, laughing over countless cups of coffee as we plotted which projects she could gently persuade her husband to tackle.
But on this day, the conversation was different. Though I had asked her for the interview, I’ll admit—I was nervous. Dawn had lived every moment of her story, carrying it with strength and grace. And while perhaps she was ready to share it, I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready to hear it. I hated that my friend had to endure any of it.
“I was getting dressed and realized I had a lump,” Dawn told me as she began her story. “It immediately gave me a sick feeling.”
Dawn was diagnosed with HER2-negative breast cancer. She explained that the estrogen in her body was feeding the tumor—a tumor too large for a lumpectomy. After careful research and weighing her options on the exhausting medical roller coaster, Dawn made the decision to undergo a double mastectomy.
“It’s like you’re in a tunnel,” she told me. “You’re so scared, but then you think, okay, what do I have to do? What are the next steps?”
Her surgery, scheduled for August, was meant to be routine. Instead, complications kept her in the hospital for six long days and multiple procedures. Once home, her journey was far from over. Dawn endured four rounds of chemotherapy. I sat beside her through one of them—I was nervous at first, uncertain of what to say or do, but then so happy to be able to be there for my friend, grateful for the chance to sit beside her.
Recovery was anything but easy. The hardest part, Dawn confided, was not recognizing herself.
“I was bald. My body looked different. I was heavier. I didn’t see me anymore.”
She recalled telling her doctor that she needed something to help. “Everyone kept telling me how good I looked; how wonderful it was that I was cancer free. And inside I was screaming, No. That’s not how I feel at all.”
What carried her through, she explained, was the unwavering support of her family and friends, along with the exceptional team at Mass General who cared for her with such compassion. “Having the support system I did was a huge part of the healing process,” she told me.
For nearly nine years, Dawn lived with discipline, determination, and hope. She exercised faithfully, nourished her body with care, never missed an appointment, and often reminded others to “trust your instincts.” She did everything she could — everything she was asked to do.
And still, in December 2024, those very instincts led her back to Mass General. Troubling symptoms revealed what no one ever wants to hear: the cancer had returned.
“It’s the same cancer,” she explained softly, “but now it lives in another part of my body. Mine is on my spine.”
Doctors told her the cancer this time is treatable, but not curable. “I hate how they say that,” she admitted. “It makes it sound like your sick forever — but it’s not really like that.”
Today, Dawn takes medication and attends regular checkups. The hardest part, she says, is living with the constant aches and pains she wishes would disappear. And yet, through it all, her spirit remains unshakably strong.
“You have to keep a positive attitude,” she insists. And she does.
After her first battle, she once asked a fellow survivor, “When will I stop thinking about this so much?” Her friend answered simply: “It takes time.”
Time — the most precious gift we have. Dawn has taught me, and so many others, that while cancer may change your life, it does not define it. She continues to live fully, with courage, gratitude, and love.
Her story is not just about illness. It is about resilience, about hope, and about the enduring strength of the human spirit.
For me, Dawn will always be more than her diagnosis — she is my cherished, beautiful friend, my reminder of what true strength looks like.
“Your life is changed forever,” she told me. “Some things are more difficult, but some things are not. I don’t sweat the small stuff anymore. I accept things a little easier. I no longer wonder if I can do something — I just do it. I live.”
A personal note from the Author – Lisa Viliott – ABC Community and Marketing Liaison:
This article reflects my own experiences and the lessons I’ve learned along the way. I hope you found something in it that resonates with you. If you have any questions, thoughts, or would like to chat more about the topic, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m always happy to connect and offer any advice or support I can!
