Lyrissa Lidsky.

The bracelets arrived at the perfect time.

The first week of April was a low point in University of Missouri School of Law Dean Lyrissa Lidsky's four-month-old battle with breast cancer. She'd recently wrapped up her fourth round of chemotherapy and a bout of bronchitis had exiled her to her home for a week of recovery—doctor's orders. Being away from the campus and job she loves was difficult, she said.

Then her husband arrived home with a handful of rubber bracelets for Lidsky and the couples' three sons, emblazoned with the words: “I Am Lidsky Strong.” Her law school colleagues had ordered the bracelets, which were distributed to faculty, students and staff. Even staff from the university provost and chancellor's offices picked up bracelets, as did some undergraduates. It was a much-needed pick-me-up for Lidsky.

“My colleagues thought they wanted a tangible sign of support,” Lidsky said in an interview this week, having kicked the bronchitis and returned to work. “It really brightened my day and made me feel good.”

Lidsky credits the unwavering support of her family, her faculty and her students with helping her stay optimistic about her health and manage her treatment while also running the law school—a balancing act she knows of only one other law dean taking on.

And unlike that other dean, who did not publicly disclose the diagnosis, Lidsky has chosen to be transparent about her treatment. She has documented much of the process through her popular Twitter feed, which has more than 3,000 followers. (Alongside law school news and commentary on First Amendment issues, of which she is an expert, Lidsky has told Twitter followers when she was too tired to attend events, documented her inability to apply false eyelashes, and offered advice on undergoing chemotherapy.)

Twitter post supporting Missouri Law Dean Lyrissa Lidsky.

Lidsky said this week that she felt the need to be up-front about her diagnosis and treatment as the public face of the law school. Her bald head is an obvious giveaway that she has cancer, and she wants the law school community to understand that her prognosis is good, with a likely chance of full recovery. Moreover, she leans toward transparency in general.

“It's kind of within my personality, she said. “I'm a fairly open person. But when you are dean of a law school, you are in a very public position. You travel a lot. You meet lots of people. You are the outward symbol of your institution. It just was far easier to be open. I don't want people to be more afraid than they need to be because they see that I'm bald and know I must be going through cancer.”

Lidsky arrived at Missouri in 2017 from the University of Florida Levin College of Law, where she was associate dean of graduate and non-J.D. programs. She quickly grew to love Missouri, which she said has one of the “most functional” law faculties in the country. But she was knocked back on her heels in December when she discovered a lump in her breast during a self-exam.

The doctors diagnosed her with a strain of cancer that used to be difficult to treat but is now very manageable with a new type of drug. Moreover, Lidsky caught the cancer in an early stage and her doctors believe she will make a full recovery. Once she wraps up chemotherapy next month, she will have a lumpectomy followed by radiation, then a year of drug treatment to ensure the cancer doesn't come back. In all, her treatment will last about 18 months.

The early results are positive. Her tumor was undetectable by sonogram following her second round of chemotherapy. (She's enrolled in a medical trial in which doctors monitor the tumor after each chemo round.)

But Lidksy said cancer has been a learning experience: learning to allow others to help; learning to say no to events and obligations she can't take on; learning to prioritize; and learning to work smarter, not harder.

She has dialed back some of her dean duties, although she is still teaching a First Amendment class this semester. (She calls the classroom her sanctuary.) She is doing far less air travel in order to protect her immune system. Instead, she has prioritized meeting with alumni within Missouri and communicating with those outside the state through other avenues. She attends fewer evening events because she often doesn't have the energy at the end of the day. And her faculty and administrators have stepped up and taken some responsibilities off her plate, even though it has been difficult to let go of some of those tasks, Lidsky said.

Missouri Law professor Ben Trachtenberg said Lidsky's ability to manage the school and cancer has been inspirational.

“I appreciate how she has kept us informed about what she can and cannot do,” he said in an email. “It turns out that even with her cancer treatments, there's not much she can't do. But when she can't be in the building, like when she has a chemo appointment, she tells us who to contact about what so nothing slips through the cracks.”

A law dean needs to project optimism about their institution, according to Lidsky, and that outlook has carried over into her cancer treatment—in turn helping her manage through the most difficult days of chemotherapy.

“It sounds strange to say, but there is a gift in a cancer diagnosis,” Lidsky said. “Since my diagnoses, people have just been incredibly warm, and thoughtful, kind and generous. I have been overwhelmed by how thoughtful people have been. I'm used to always being the caretaker for other people. It's not natural for me to accept help. I've had to learn to accept help and learn that people really do want to help you. I've really seen the best of human nature since was diagnosed.”