Dr. Jameshia Below-Washington was just an 11-year-old girl from Louisiana when she received a diagnosis that would redefine her life. It began with a swollen eye over a holiday break—a symptom her family initially hoped would simply fade.
“From my view as a child, I heard the doctor say—malignant—and so with my limited knowledge at the time, I just kind of knew, like, ‘Okay, malignant, that sounds bad. Something’s wrong.’ But they were having a conversation off to the side somewhere where I couldn’t hear everything,” Dr. Below- Washington tells BlackDoctor.
The family drove from Natchitoches to Memphis, arriving at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital® at 5:00 AM. A biopsy confirmed she had rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare, aggressive cancer that affects skeletal muscle cells.
“I didn’t really know what was going on. I just know that I was scared and nervous,” she recalls.
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Finding “Fun” in the Fight
She was thrust into a world of scans, chemotherapy, and radiation. But while many would remember only the fear, Dr. Below-Washington remembers the bright colors of the art stations, the volunteers who made the waiting rooms feel like playgrounds, and a medical team that treated her like family.
“What I remember about St. Jude is [that] I really did just think it was fun. I thought it was just a place that I could always go,” she says.
However, the clinical reality was grueling. Dr. Below-Washington spent three months in Memphis for radiation before returning home to complete a year of weekly chemotherapy in Shreveport.
“The days that I got my treatment, I do remember it would make me feel sick,” she shares. “I kind of learned to tell the nurse, ‘Push the heparin in slow.’ Because if they push it in fast, it makes me feel nauseated… I’d chew on some candy while I’m getting the infusion.”
The radiation and MRIs were the scariest parts. Because the tumor was located above her eye, she had to remain perfectly still in a molded mask. She recalls a terrifying “scary moment” where severe nausea left her unable to eat, leading to a blackout during treatment. She regained consciousness in an ambulance while being rushed to the hospital for emergency fluids.
“While I was there, the people at St. Jude and my parents tried to make it fun so that it wasn’t scary. They tried to shield me from the reality,” she notes. “When I look up my diagnosis now, the survival percentage is a really great rate. But at the time, if I’m not mistaken, it seemed like it was a four percent survival rate. My dad had me take a picture in front of a big board that had all the diagnoses on it.”
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Bridging Clinical Expertise and Radical Empathy
When Dr. Below-Washington eventually returned to school in the eighth grade, she was labeled as “the girl who had cancer.” The experience was awkward and isolating, but it solidified her desire to return to the medical field. Today, she is a PharmD and Assistant Professor at the University of Louisiana at Monroe.
“I wanted to help people in the same way that St. Jude helped me—to be somewhere where people care about what you’re going through,” she explains. “Not just caring about treating your disease, but also caring about how you feel and how it affects you mentally as well.”
She originally considered pediatric oncology, but a rotation in the field felt “too close to home.” Instead, she focuses on adult oncology at a chemotherapy infusion center, where she teaches her students to prioritize the “human element” of care.
“I come in to talk to them about their medications, but I’m also aware that I don’t want to overload them with too much information,” she notes.
She focuses on simple, digestible tools—like take-home calendars—to ensure patients don’t feel lost.
“I once had a patient sitting in the chair for treatment who said they didn’t know what they were getting or what was going on. At such a scary point in time, you really don’t know what’s going on.”
Breaking Barriers in the South
As of 2023–2024, approximately 60 to 62 percent of the pharmacist workforce in the United States are women, according to U.S. Census Bureau data.
Despite the pharmacy profession becoming increasingly female-dominated, Dr. Below-Washington still sees a representation gap, especially among Black women in her region.
“Even where I work now, I am probably one of only two Black female pharmacists—or teachers—currently teaching in this location,” she says. “Not being able to look around and see someone who looks like you makes a difference.”
She often feels she has to work twice as hard to prove her worth. “If [patients] see a female in a white coat and a male in a white coat, they might automatically address the male and assume he is the pharmacist while the woman is the student. Even if I introduce myself, they might say, ‘Oh, you’re the pharmacy technician.’ There are obstacles you have to overcome that your male counterparts wouldn’t have to deal with,” she notes.
A New Chapter: Ritual Pharmacy
Dr. Below-Washington is now turning those obstacles into opportunities. In November 2025, she and her husband—whom she met in pharmacy school—opened their own pharmacy.
As one of the only Black-owned pharmacies in their area, it represents a full-circle moment of service and leadership. She encourages her husband to speak at local schools so children can see a path forward. “High school isn’t the end… I try to push that as well,” she says.
A Legacy of Resilience
If Dr. Below-Washington could speak to her 11-year-old self on the day of her diagnosis, she would tell her to embrace the struggle.
“Those struggles are only put in place to allow you to develop the character that you need for your future success,” she reflects. “For the longest, I wouldn’t openly talk about it. But the more I talk about everything, the more it does kind of heal and becomes a part of me.”
From a four percent survival rate to owning her own pharmacy and teaching the next generation of doctors, Dr. Below-Washington’s story is no longer just about surviving cancer—it’s about defining what it means to care.
