Dawn Hughes

In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, our theme for October is #CheckYourself, emphasizing the importance of monitoring your breast health. This week, we are highlighting a breast cancer survivor whose story reminds us to live every day to its fullest: Dawn Hughes. Born and raised in Indianapolis, Dawn earned a bachelor’s degree in Advertising from Hampton University and a master’s degree in Education from the University of Phoenix. After living in Virginia and North Carolina for almost two decades, she moved back to Indianapolis and worked with the Lawrence Township Trustee office for seven years. She now serves as Deputy Director of Assessment for Business Personal Property for the Marion County Assessor and is actively involved in alumni and nonprofit organizations around the city. We hope Dawn’s words inspire you as much as they did us.

I was diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer in May of 2016.

I went to get my first mammogram at 40 years old. I remember the nurse telling me on that first visit that since this was my first mammogram, I should not be alarmed if I received a phone call to come back for comparative imaging. I did receive the second phone call; however, I was told to go to the hospital for a more in-depth mammogram. After the news that I needed to have a biopsy, I began to feel nervous. I remember anxiously waiting two days for the results. No one in my family had been diagnosed with breast cancer, so I didn't know how I would handle it if the doctor said the "C" word. I tried to prepare myself, but you can never fully anticipate your reaction to this kind of news. The biopsy confirmed it: I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I will never forget the 10 a.m. phone call saying the tests were positive. After those words, I heard nothing else the doctor said.

Nothing made sense. I had just gotten married, my children were 15 and 11 -- I was so young. Where did this come from? How was I going to tell my family? There were so many questions swirling through my head all at the same time. It was like 4th of July fireworks going off in my mind.

When I received the news, the first person I told was my husband. I was at work and quickly left to meet him. I could barely get the words out because the tears were coming faster than my brain was processing all this new information. We sat in his car while we called my aunts, uncle and cousins. I couldn't speak, so I had him speak for me. Later that evening, we told my mother, in person, along with my children. The last person we had to tell was my sister who lived in Texas. I wanted to tell her myself. I just remember the shocked and worried silence on the other end of the phone.

About a week later, I told my closest friends and asked them not to mention it to anyone. I didn't want anyone else finding out until I had learned how to deal with my "new normal." But one night I heard a whisper in my ear, telling me to let others know and that they would help me with everything I needed. I knew then that God had me covered and I would be alright. I began to open up.

My diagnosis meant I had to modify my lifestyle. While going through chemotherapy, I couldn't plan for activities because I didn't know how I would feel. There were family events that I would miss because I was so tired I couldn't get out of bed or I didn't feel well. I rode on an emotional rollercoaster for a long time. There were times I would retreat into my shell and not be heard from for days or not get out of bed. Then other days, I was ready to be the grand marshall in the local parade. 

When I lost my hair, I wore a wig because I did not feel comfortable exposing my bald head. I had not previously worn wigs or extensions, so I had to learn how to wear my new accessories. In the summer months, I thought I was going to die because of how hot the wig felt on my head. Once, I just threw it across the room. In that moment, it felt like a load lifted off my shoulders. After that day, I felt free and confident without my wigs.

I had many complications because of my breast cancer diagnosis. I have had a total of 7 surgeries. My body has rejected implants, my right nipple had to be removed and I have had countless infections. During chemotherapy, I lost my fingernails and had neuropathy in my hands and feet to the point where I couldn't walk or hold things in my hands. I had trouble doing simple tasks. I had to have a full hysterectomy and lost my sense of taste, all while gaining weight because of the steroids I had to take.

Plus, I lost a whole breast. Because I only had cancer in the right breast, it had to be removed, and the left one was reduced. I was becoming uncomfortable in my clothes because of how I looked. I had to have multiple surgeries to correct this issue for me.

Another physical change was my hair color. I had been blonde for years before chemotherapy, but once I lost my hair and it started to grow back, it was gray. I did not want to walk around with gray hair when I was only 41 years old. However, I was focused on the wrong thing. When I realized that it didn't matter and accepted the compliments I received, I was able to carry on as the new me. I embraced my hair until I was able to dye it back to its original blonde color.

I was very blessed to have so many people to support me until I was healthy enough to be self-sufficient. They never asked for anything in return except for me to get stronger than I was before. Besides my faith, my positivity came from three places: my family, my work family and everyone who supported me, whether I knew them or not.

My family has always been supportive. We are close and uplift each other through every experience in life, whether good or bad. I decided to have a bilateral mastectomy to remove the cancer along with reconstruction. This surgery began at 6 in the morning and would take 8-9 hours. I was in the pre-op room waiting to speak to my doctors and nurses, when, one by one, my family members started to come in to wish me well and pray for me and my medical team. I was surrounded by those who loved me and wanted to let me know they would be there when I woke up.

My work family was also supportive in many ways. Office leadership encouraged me not to worry about rushing back to the office before I was fully healed. I didn't feel pressured to come back before my body was ready. Unfortunately, some individuals don't work in a supportive environment, which makes it harder to recover.

The community surrounded me with love throughout my health journey. I remember one day receiving a large box at my front door. I hadn't ordered anything, nor had my husband. When I opened the box and read the card, I fell to my knees. The box was filled with goodies, gift cards, books and activities to make my recovery a bit sweeter. This box was from the women who stayed on my floor during my freshman year at Hampton University. I couldn't believe they had gotten together to support me, especially since I had not spoken to many of them since I graduated in 1998. Another one of my girlfriends from Hampton flew in from South Carolina to sit with me during my first chemotherapy appointment and to go wig shopping. My other friend from Maryland joined me for my first breast cancer walk, and another came from New York to visit and help me around the house. This type of support cannot be expressed in words – their acts of kindness will always hold a special place in my heart.

Now, I am feeling really good. I am grateful I am a Survivor and can share my story. If I can inspire one person every year to get a mammogram, I can't ask for too much more.

Without becoming a Survivor, I don't believe I would be the woman I am today. I had a Type A personality and used to burn the candle at both ends. After my health journey, I have a different outlook on life and how I live it. You will hear me say "YOLO" (you only live once) numerous times. I like having this opportunity to help others, especially those in the Black community, by speaking about my journey. I can honestly say I am not afraid of too much. I know I can make it through ANYTHING without feeling broken.

 I decided to become an athlete at the age of 45 when I joined a Dragon boat team called Indy SurviveOars. We are the only Dragon boat breast cancer team in Indiana that competes nationally and internationally. In 2023 we will compete in New Zealand. This is something I probably would never have done otherwise. To be on a boat with 22 other breast cancer Survivors and Thrivers gives you the energy to keep fighting. 

I am also part of Glitz & Glamour Foundation Inc., which holds its signature charity event in October. We showcase survivors and have a showstopping fashion show to raise money to assist those affected by breast cancer.

I do have moments where I am angry at cancer for the friends I have lost, angry for individuals going through diagnosis and angry at the lack of equal healthcare for all. Cancer can be financially damaging to many: they need the care but worry about how to pay for it. Removing the disease from the body can have residual effects on the mind, body and soul. The effects of the treatments can stay with you forever, making you feel weak or sick and changing the physical appearance of your body.

If you are fighting breast cancer, know that it is ok to ask for and accept help from others. Please don't allow yourself to go down a rabbit hole you can't escape. Stay upbeat, laugh loudly even when you don't feel like it, think good thoughts, and get dressed, put on some lip gloss and walk out your door like a QUEEN.

There will be trying times that will test you more than you thought possible; however, in the end, you are stronger than you can imagine. Be an advocator for yourself with your medical care and with others. Once you tell the world you have been diagnosed with breast cancer, everyone has a remedy and will tell you what you need to do for your cancer. Remember, this is YOUR cancer: don't allow others to influence you on what you need to do for YOUR body.

Unapologetically own your power. Don't worry about what others may say about how you have changed. You have earned the right to change.