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.

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Working as an oncology nurse has been my dream for so long. Losing my mom to breast cancer definitely influenced my decision to work in oncology and my desire to help people. It’s incredibly rewarding. But one thing’s for sure – I never expected to be on the other side of the diagnosis, facing cancer myself. 

I especially didn’t expect it at just 30 years old – and 24 weeks pregnant with my first child. My mom passed away when I was only two years old, and to suddenly get the same diagnosis while I was on the verge of becoming a mom myself was beyond terrifying. I practically blacked out when I heard the news. I kept thinking, “What? I’m pregnant. This isn’t supposed to happen.” It was quite the curveball, to say the least.

While it was the most difficult news to receive, I’m so grateful they caught it early. I’m thankful that there were chemo medications I could take that were safe for my unborn son. I have the most phenomenal doctors and nurses – my colleagues in the cancer centre in Sudbury, Ontario, became my caregivers overnight. I have a wonderful support team through my husband, Ryan, and my step-mom, who I really think of as my mom, as she’s been a mother to me my whole life. She has been my rock. And this whole ordeal has given me a completely new perspective on facing cancer, despite the fact that I’ve cared for cancer patients for seven years now. 

For example, although I supported cancer patients in their journeys everyday as a nurse, I underestimated the mental and emotional toll that cancer treatment would have on me. For one, losing my hair was so tough. I had always been like, “Oh, it’s just hair, it’ll grow back.” But it’s not just hair. It was part of me and my self-esteem and how I presented myself to the world.

I already knew about Look Good Feel Better (LGFB) through my work in the chemo room, and it became such a valuable resource for me. I signed up for a workshop right away, and boy, was it ever awesome. As a nurse, I had often heard about the impact of LGFB but experiencing it firsthand was completely different. Like losing my hair, I didn’t fully grasp how much it would mean to me until I was living it.

I took my mom to the workshop as my support person, and it was so good for the soul. I learned some great hair and makeup tips, but more than that, it gave me a powerful sense of hope. It helped me reclaim my self-esteem and made the scary experience I was going through feel a whole lot less scary. I loved connecting with other women who were going through what I was going through. Having cancer can feel so lonely – I had all the support in the world, but people didn’t really understand what I was going through, because, well, they didn’t have the diagnosis. Being able to share my experience with the women in the workshop was really special.

I’m so grateful that LGFB exists, and that my future patients will have the opportunity to attend the workshops. And now, I can speak to the experience personally. When I’m able to go back to work, I know I’ll be able to connect with and support my patients on a whole new level.

My son, Matthew, has arrived, and things feel so much better now. A lot of the anxiety and fear of the unknown that I experienced – about cancer, about being a first-time mom – have faded. This journey has given me a deeper understanding of resilience, both for myself and my patients.