Houston-area junior Lily Dunlap wins Naismith Courage Award for battle with hearing loss, cancer

HOUSTON, Texas (KTRK) -- When St. John's guard Lily Dunlap drilled a three-pointer in the early minutes of a game against St. Francis last December, her head covered in a black beanie and her body still wracked from the toxins that had ravaged it, the cheers that exploded across the gym sounded more like victory cries.

In May of that same year, the 16-year-old sophomore had been diagnosed with cancer. Yet there she was months later, beating a defender and burying a jump shot, the step-back marking the comeback.

It wasn't the first time Dunlap had defied a life-altering diagnosis.

The Houston native was born with hearing loss in both ears, though she and her family didn't fully realize what was wrong for years.

"I'm sitting in front of the TV, and it was actually Mickey Mouse. I just kept telling my mom, 'Turn it up! Turn it up!' It was at like 80, and I was still telling her," Dunlap recounted. "That's the moment I remember realizing I'm not hearing normally."

The finding was relatively late in the audiology world, masked by years of chronic ear infections and "gunk in the ears," according to her mother, Colleen. Her parents believe Dunlap had already learned to compensate, reading lips and angling her body to help direct her damaged ears. She began wearing hearing aids around age four.

"That wasn't easy when she was young, especially because you can see them, and kids don't understand what they are," Colleen said.

An early photo shared with ABC13 shows Dunlap playing club basketball as an 8-year-old, glued to her opponent, with the hearing device wedged in her ear. She worked through the early challenges and says now she doesn't think much about it, though the impairment still impacts her in loud environments - like basketball gyms.

"I can hear without my hearing aids, but it's sort of like how people hear underwater. I can hear the sound, but the actual words that people are saying are sometimes tricky," she said. "It definitely impacted me when I was younger, but now it's just part of who I am."

"BASKETBALL WAS MY RELEASE"

In the basketball world, Dunlap fits the sparkplug archetype. Wiry but small for the game where giants have dominion, she prides herself on the quick-trigger three and deals in the game's intangibles to make her presence felt on the court.

"She's a great shooter, but her game IQ is phenomenal," coach Kathy Halligan said. "She plays with so much passion, and she's feisty. The first day I met her (as a freshman), she told me she was going to be on varsity. That's how she carries herself when she walks in the gym."

In the Spring of 2024, Dunlap committed to off-season work for a bigger team role, focusing on her ball-handling. She played club basketball, practicing twice a week with games on weekends. But as her game improved, her body began to betray her.

"I was sick quite a few times with strep and things like that. And I'm not a sick person. I don't normally get sick. And I was like, 'something's off,'" she said.

Dunlap took note of a lump that had appeared in her neck. She says intuition told her it was something more severe than strep throat but that her doctors initially said not to worry. Neither sickness nor lump receded. The tests began. First came an ultrasound, followed by a non-invasive biopsy, and then three needle-nose biopsies, including one that cut the lymph node out of her neck.

The next day, Dunlap played in a club basketball tournament.

"I think basketball was my release. I wasn't going to stop playing because something could be wrong," she said.

But the news proved inescapable. The biopsy confirmed Dunlap's initial misgiving: she had cancer. Stage three Hodgkin's lymphoma is a disease of the immune system most common in women aged 15 to 35, where healthy cells radicalize and run rampant, like a full-court press of rogue players.

Dunlap's doctor called her parents first, who eventually sat her down for the conversation most parents only have in nightmares.

"I think we had all mentally prepared ourselves. I think we all knew. But we needed some time just with her. It was not a good day," Colleen said, the last sentence spoken through tears.

Grief and fear of the unknown sank into Dunlap like the drugs that would soon course through her veins. But survival, too, ran in Dunlap's blood. Colleen beat breast cancer almost seven years ago.

"This was not our first rodeo with (cancer). So, I think we took some comfort. Maybe that's not the right word, but we took some," Collen said.

"I think she helped me realize what was achievable and helped me come to terms with that. She had a good understanding of what the process was going to be, but I just had to go head first into it," Dunlap said.

At the end of May 2024, after rounds of staging scans, Lily and her doctors at Texas Children's Hospital established the treatment: 12 rounds of chemotherapy every two weeks for six months, a five-drug cocktail pumped into her bloodstream through a surgically implanted port.

At their first meeting, Collen says the oncologist advised her that she would have to take the next year off of school. Dunlap flatly declined.

She was determined to graduate with her friends and hell-bent on getting back on the court. Dunlap set a goal to suit up for St. John's against St. Francis and her sister Allison on Dec. 6. If everything in the battle with cancer went perfectly, the game would be just days after her final procedure.

"I think for me it was like, 'I'll be normal when I can play basketball again,'" Dunlap said.

SICK AT THE THOUGHT

Studies show stage three Hodgkin's lymphoma comes with a five-year survival rate of around 85%, relatively high compared to other types of advanced cancer. But chemotherapy asks a staggering price for its service. The treatment method attacks cancer cells with an even stronger torrent of toxins: a heavyweight boxing match with Dunlap's body as the ring. Soon, the notorious gym rat could barely walk around the block.

"I would sleep through the meeting, sleep during treatment, then go home and sleep. That's how I got through the day. Then the next day was recovery," Dunlap said.

Shortly after her second treatment, the hair started to go. Dunlap recalls waking up at night with hair covering her pillow. She cut what was left before losing it all. The family sent the hair to a Florida-based company called Chemo Divas, who created what is known in the cancer community as a "halo wig": a mesh top with Dunlap's actual strands of hair flowing down.

There was no saving her eyebrows and lashes. As the drugs and the trauma built up in her system, Colleen says Dunlap developed anticipatory nausea in the days before each round. Sick at the thought.

"It's a game of whack-a-mole. You get one side effect, and they give you another drug, and that creates another side effect. And then as soon as you start to feel better, they hit you again," her dad, Mike, said. "It got harder and harder."

After rounds eight and nine, Dunlap wondered if she could keep going. But scans showed the treatments were working. Dunlap could see the finish line and the prospect of returning to the game she loved. On Oct. 29, Dunlap underwent her final chemotherapy treatment. Her final scan came back clean on the day after Thanksgiving. Two days later, surgery to remove the port.

Dunlap was cancer-free and cleared to play - the game against Allison was just days away.

Dunlap had stayed in school and done her utmost to maintain some level of fitness and connection with the team. Halligan says she was still in the weight room and attending practice when she could, even helping to coach the team. But actually playing so early into her recovery was suddenly a daunting proposition.

"I was so far from 100%, I was questioning if I should play. But the fact that (Allison) was playing really pushed me to be back," Dunlap said.

"What six months of chemotherapy does to your body, your entire system. It was an amazing turnaround. She was only practicing a few minutes at a time, but we knew how important playing in that game was to her. It was part of our responsibility as coaches to allow that to be part of her recovery, her journey," Halligan said.

After entering against St. Francis, Dunlap says she attempted a three-pointer and was fouled but didn't get the call. A few possessions later, met with the same defender closing down, Dunlap pump-faked to create an opening and then buried a step-back three-pointer.

Cheers from both teams, their fans, and even the officials, according to Halligan, caromed around the rafters.

"It was a move I would have done as a sophomore, and so to do that after having cancer was pretty special. But it was just an amazing feeling to step back on the court again," Dunlap says.

A NEW NORMAL

How do you share your story when you never wanted it to be told?

Dunlap never wanted to be known as "the cancer kid." Her family stresses that the 16-year-old girl just wanted to hold on to whatever normal she could. But cancer and chemo don't hide their invasion, and Dunlap's world rallied anyway, with friendship bracelets and cookie cakes and unrelenting support.

"I had this ridiculous idea in my head that if I told people, I became a burden for people and I didn't like that. Obviously, that wasn't what actually happened," Dunlap said.

Dunlap and her family say they're humbled and grateful for the support, and the doctors at Texas Children's. Now, her journey is getting national attention. On Feb. 25, Dunlap won the Jersey Mike's Naismith High School Basketball Courage Award, honoring "players who overcome adversity and make a lasting impact on their teams, schools and communities."

"She doesn't want this story to be about these are all the terrible things that happened, right? So, I think she feels conflicted about that fact. But at the same time, she knows that she can be an example for other people," Mike said.

"It's not about what obstacle you face in your life, but how you walk through it. Are you positive? Are you still smiling? Are you still doing the things that you love? That's what's especially important about my journey," Dunlap said.

Dunlap's story still leaves a small but chilling possibility in the shadows. The family says she'll continue to be monitored regularly and meet with doctors every three months for the next two years, scans, and checks to be sure the lymphoma doesn't return.

"You're never totally in the clear. But I feel good. We can't stress about it. This is right now the best-case scenario, and we're thrilled," Colleen said. "She's thrilled to be living a normal life."

Dunlap has settled back into the rhythms and reasons for a now-17-year-old high school girl: working hard in school, hanging out with friends, and thinking about college. On the court, Dunlap says her energy and endurance have returned, and the strength is coming.

She can only wait on her hair.

"I think it looks pretty good. It's growing back evenly. I only wish that it could grow back faster, but I can't control that," she said.

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