Written by: Michelle Horton
It was an ordinary Monday morning, one of those moments when routine feels almost automatic—until it does not. Dawn Smith stepped out of the shower, caught her reflection in the mirror, and froze. On the top of her left breast was a lump, hard and oddly shaped. “I knew what it was,” she says, recalling the instant that altered everything.
In that breathless pause between fear and certainty, Dawn’s life shifted. “It was absolutely devastating! I was shocked!” she says. “I have never missed a mammogram in the last 20 years. I did all the genetic testing and tested negative for all cancers. So, this really blindsided me. I don’t smoke, I eat right; this was not supposed to happen! But it did!” That moment became the beginning of a story of resilience, faith, and determination—a story Dawn now shares to help others fight, advocate, and hope.
Dawn was born in Garden Grove, California, and spent her early years there before her family moved to Gillham, Arkansas. Country life suited her spirit. “I loved it in the country because I could have my dogs and horses,” she says. Her childhood was shaped by change: divorced parents, a move across states, and independence that came earlier than most. “I moved out when I was 15 and put myself through high school, nursing school, then respiratory school,” Dawn explains. That grit carried her through challenges then—and prepared her for the greatest challenge of all, decades later.
She pursued nursing at Cassatot Vocational School, then earned her certified respiratory degree in Fort Smith, and later, her registry at California College of Respiratory Therapy. For nearly 37 years, she has worked at St. Michael’s, caring for patients, balancing science with compassion, and building the kind of inner strength she did not know she would need for herself.
Amid her career, Dawn found another anchor. “I actually met my husband at St. Michael’s gym,” she recalls with a laugh. “I was running on the treadmill and saw him lifting weights. I thought to myself, ‘I could marry that man.’” She was right. Nine months later, they were dating, and two years after that, they were married.
Now celebrating 31 years of marriage, the couple raised two children whose accomplishments fill Dawn with pride. “We have two wonderful children,” she says. Her son, Foxx, works for the Corps of Engineers at Lake DeGray and is married to a first-grade teacher pursuing her second master’s degree. Her daughter, Ramzi, recently graduated from dental school and now practices dentistry in Sulfur Springs. “No grandchildren yet,” Dawn says, “just granddogs.” This strong family network became the foundation of her support when life suddenly demanded all her courage.
After spotting the lump, Dawn moved quickly. Working at a hospital, she knew who to contact. “I reached out to the breast navigator on Tuesday, and she got the order from my PCP for a diagnostic mammogram and an ultrasound,” she says. The mammogram missed the tumor, but the ultrasound revealed it immediately. A biopsy confirmed her fears: invasive lobular breast cancer. “I got my diagnosis on Friday evening,” she explains. “We met with my PCP the following Monday, and he ordered a breast MRI. This is how we found the three masses on the right breast.”
The news shook her to her core. “Of course, dying was the first thought,” Dawn says softly. However, just as terrifying was telling her children. “How to tell my kids—that was the hardest.” She and her husband decided to FaceTime their son and daughter. “Both live out of town,” she says. Sharing the news virtually was painful, but necessary.
With mastectomies and reconstruction scheduled seven weeks out, Dawn could not simply wait. “I couldn’t sit idle,” she says. Instead, she sought ways to fight back on her own terms. “I immediately started the carnivore diet and taking Ivermectin and Fenbendazole,” she explains. To her surprise, the tumor shrank from 1.6 cm to 0.62 cm before surgery. “This was my way of starting the ‘fight,’” Dawn says with conviction.
When doctors suggested a lumpectomy, Dawn refused. “I chose the double mastectomy,” she says firmly. “Working in healthcare, I have seen people too often coming back after a lumpectomy, and the cancer is back.” Later, genetic testing confirmed she made the right call. “The genetic testing on the three tumors in my right breast has an 86% chance of turning cancerous. At my check-up, the doctor told me I made the best choice.”
Dawn and her husband chose Christus Highland in Shreveport, working with Drs. Julie Broadwell and Barron Oneal. “I couldn’t be more pleased! They are a great team,” she says. “They did the mastectomies and reconstruction at the same time.” The results offered relief: clear lymph nodes, clear margins, and no need for chemotherapy or radiation. She has now been taking a hormone blocker and will continue to for five years. “I do have a new sympathy for women who have hot flashes!” she laughs.
Though spared from the harshest treatments, Dawn experienced side effects. “The meds make me feel like I have morning sickness—it was every day, but now it is just every once in a while,” she says. She manages symptoms with determination, continuing her diet and regimen. “Doing this helps me believe I am still fighting any cancer cells that may be floating around.”
Throughout the journey, Dawn leaned heavily on her support system. “My husband, kids, and my close friends—they were all my rock!” she says. Their presence helped her navigate fear and uncertainty with steadiness. However, Dawn also points to something beyond family and medicine. “I had so many people praying for me, I know God must have heard them all,” she says. “Survivorship means I am very blessed.”
Cancer reshaped Dawn’s perspective. “Yes, I cherish every moment!” she says. “I guess I will always worry that it will come back, but I am being proactive!” For Dawn, survivorship is not just a medical term—it is a philosophy of living. She embraces her days with gratitude, refusing to take even small moments for granted. When reflecting on her journey, Dawn admits one regret. “When all my genetic testing came back negative, I had a false sense of security and got lax on my self-breast exams,” she explains. “I would have been more regular with self-exams for sure.”
She now urges others to take screening seriously and to advocate for themselves. “Do not solely trust mammograms,” she insists. “They are a tool, and they are not perfect. Get your mammogram, and if it shows dense or fibrous tissue, ask for a follow-up ultrasound or a diagnostic breast MRI. Be a self-advocate!” Her voice grows firmer when she offers this advice: “Be persistent! If you don’t feel right, go with your gut feeling.”
Dawn also wants to clear away any illusions about what cancer is like. “It is all true,” she says plainly. “It sucks!” Yet even in that honesty, she carries a spirit of resilience that transforms hardship into empowerment. By speaking openly about her challenges, Dawn hopes others will face their own diagnoses with courage and clarity.
Today, Dawn balances her career at St. Michael, her family life, and her proactive health choices. While the shadow of recurrence lingers in her thoughts, it does not dominate them. Instead, she focuses on gratitude and strength.
Dawn Smith’s story is not defined by cancer, but by what she has done with it: faced it, fought it, and risen with gratitude and faith. Her journey is a reminder that resilience is not just surviving—it is thriving with a more profound sense of purpose.
Dawn speaks with a softer wisdom as she says, “I cherish every moment.” In those four words lies the essence of survivorship—not fear of what could be lost, but joy in what remains, and the courage to celebrate it fully.