In this family of five sisters, the year 2025 will be marked by an unexpected and deeply shared experience. In the space of just a few months, three of them — Claudette, Ginette and Danielle — were diagnosed with breast cancer. Three different life paths, three different ages, but the same challenge that further strengthened their already solid bond.

Claudette, the eldest of the family, is 71 years old. In June 2025, her doctor informs her that the cancer that first appeared in 1993 has returned. This time, the tumour is rare and located in the nipple. Unfortunately, Claudette is no stranger to the disease: this diagnosis marks her fifth bout with cancer. Over the years, she has already battled three breast cancers, undergone a hysterectomy and been treated for a bladder tumour. She will face this new challenge with the experience and determination of someone who has already weathered several storms.

A month later, in July 2025, it is 66-year-old Ginette’s turn to receive the same news. For her, too, it is a recurrence. Her first breast cancer dates back to 1998. This time, she chooses a radical approach: even though only one breast is affected, she asks for both to be removed to avoid any future risk. She undergoes a total mastectomy in the autumn.

The youngest of the three sisters, 62-year-old Danielle, was actually the first to receive her diagnosis, in January 2025. On 7 March, she underwent a mastectomy of her right breast with reconstruction. Danielle is the youngest in the clan. “There are five girls in the family,” she explains. “And luckily, the other two are doing well.” Despite the difficulty of the situation, the three sisters find comfort in being able to go through this period together.

Amidst medical appointments and treatments, a simple initiative offered them a moment of respite and sharing. Danielle, who was already taking yoga classes at La Maison Main…Tenir L’espoir, heard about Look Good Feel Better. Intrigued, she decided to sign up and told her sisters about it. They liked the idea and chose to participate together.

For Claudette, this wasn’t her first experience of this kind. She had already attended a similar workshop in 1993 in Montreal. However, the workshop in Trois-Rivières was particularly touching for her, as she participated with her sisters. Ginette also attended a LGFB workshop on her own when she was first diagnosed in 1998.

As soon as they arrived, the three sisters rediscovered something precious: the joy of being together. “We don’t see each other often, so it was good for us,” says Danielle. The atmosphere quickly became friendly and filled with laughter.

The volunteers took the time to patiently and attentively guide each participant through simple personal care techniques: learning how to apply foundation, use concealer or redraw eyebrows. For some participants, these were new techniques to discover. For others, like Ginette, it was an opportunity to revisit advice she had received nearly thirty years earlier.

Claudette, for her part, is particularly concerned about her eyebrows, which she has lost. She feels unskilled at redrawing them and makes the group laugh when she jokes that she was afraid of looking like a clown. In a room with about eight women, each story is different, but they all share the same need for listening and support.

Danielle particularly appreciates the aspect of sharing and solidarity. Even if she does not necessarily use all the techniques she has learned, she values the advice she receives and the exchanges with the other participants. The conversations naturally broaden to include discussions about treatments, concerns, and everyday life.

For Danielle, these workshops play an essential role. “They give us hope and encourage us to take care of ourselves,” she explains. “Even when you’re going through illness, you can still take time for yourself.”

Beyond beauty tips, the three sisters have found a space where they feel understood. A place where they can talk freely, ask questions and meet other people who are going through the same thing. Danielle has also attended other workshops offered by LGFB and enjoys receiving their newsletter. She also wants to encourage her sisters to explore the various online workshops.

Today, they have agreed to share their story with one simple goal in mind: that their experience may be of use to others.

Three sisters, three journeys, one emotional year. But also three women who chose to go through this together—with courage, solidarity… and sometimes even a little humour, in front of a mirror, trying to draw the “perfect” eyebrow.

Lymphedema

People who are treated for cancer are at risk for lymphedema if they have lymph nodes or vessels removed or damaged during treatment. Speak with your doctor about treatment options and visit canadalymph.ca for more information.

Post-Recovery “Everyday Bras”

Recovery time can vary greatly. People can be ready to move into an everyday bra anywhere from two months to one year after treatment is complete. 

Mastectomy bras are available in many styles including lingerie, sport and everyday bras. These are specific for post-mastectomy or post- lumpectomy because they come with pockets to hold breast forms.  Many have a higher neckline for support and to help cover scars.

If you sew, or know someone who can, you can have pockets sewn into any bra as well – but you may need to experiment a bit to get the right design to hold the breast form. 

Remember that your size and shape may have changed post-treatment and post-surgery.  A specialized bra retailer can help you find the right size – or check out our bra-fitting tips on our Breast Form Fitting and Bra Tips page.

Click here for Bra Tips!

I thought I had moved on. I thought that my cancer journey was behind me — far in the past. When a routine mammogram led to a new breast cancer diagnosis in 2023, it was a complete shock. My cancer had recurred after 13 years.

At first, I beat myself up over the diagnosis. I thought I had been doing everything right — eating well, working out, taking care of myself. “What did I do wrong?” I wondered. “How could this have happened?” I started to doubt my every move, every bite that I put in my mouth. My self-confidence declined. But I quickly realized that blaming myself wasn’t going to help. I had to act. I needed to take back control.

This time, I chose a double mastectomy with reconstruction. It felt like the safest option — I didn’t want to rely on mammograms anymore. And although I was reluctant to undergo chemo again after my painful first experience, I knew it was necessary. Thankfully, the treatment was a little easier this time. I received a new scalp cooling treatment that helped prevent hair loss, which made a huge difference for me emotionally. Though the chemo still brought its challenges — nausea, fatigue, and rashes — keeping some of my hair helped me feel like I hadn’t completely lost myself to the disease. Scalp cooling was a new innovation that hadn’t been available to me the first time around, so I was grateful for the opportunity to try it out.

Building a support system was also a priority for me. I’m from Mauritius, a tropical island off the coast of South Africa, and most of my family is still there, so I had to create my own network here. I discovered Look Good Feel Better (LGFB), and attending their workshop made a huge difference. My “look” is very important for me, and it was comforting to feel pampered and cared for, especially after all the blows and bad news I’d been receiving. The workshop helped me to regain confidence and connected me to a group of women who understood exactly what I was going through.

I also started a walking group for cancer patients and later joined a dragon boat group for breast cancer survivors. Looking at the strength of these paddlers made me feel strong, too. If they can do it, so can I. It was encouraging. After my first cancer experience, I was eager to move on and forget about it. But now, I realize there’s power in staying connected with the cancer community and with other survivors. I’m a two-time survivor. This is my life and my reality, and I accept it now.

This time, my son also played a bigger role in my recovery. He was just a toddler the first time I had cancer, but now, as a teenager, he became part of my support system. He loves photography, and whenever I did my makeup, he’d take photos of me and edit them. It made me feel good about myself and it became our bonding time, and those photos now hold a special place in my heart.

Today, I cherish every moment with my husband and son. We cook, go for walks, shop, watch movies — those little everyday moments mean everything to me now. I’m grateful for each day and, rather than cry about what happened to me or worry about the future, I choose to live in the present. Cancer may be part of my story, but it doesn’t define who I am.