Advanced Skincare Workshop

Advances in cancer treatment have led to more people experiencing skin-related side effects, both during and after treatment. In this workshop, expert Onco-Dermatologists share simple steps to help minimize and manage common skin and nail issues.

This workshop is available Online

Join us!

• This workshop delivered via a Q&A with our medical professional, and is offered approximately four times a year.
• It is roughly an hour and fifteen (1:15) minutes in length and is delivered over Zoom.
• Be sure to add your questions on the registration form!

Register Today!

 

Who should attend this workshop?

This workshop is available for anyone who is…

• Currently in treatment
• Post-treatment but may still be experiencing side-effects impacting their skin, scalp, or nails
• This workshop is designed to address skin concerns wherever people are in their cancer continuum

Wigs & Scarves Workshop

Learn about hair loss and caring for your scalp during treatment, all about wigs, and other hair alternatives, including scarf-tying techniques.

This workshop is available ONLINE and IN-PERSON

Online

• The ONLINE workshop is ONE HOUR long and is delivered via Zoom.
• Relax and join us from the comfort of your home.

 

I’m ready to register!

IN-PERSON

• The IN-PERSON workshop is 2 HOURS long and is called Skincare, Makeup & Hair.
• It combines our Wigs & Scarves and our Skincare & Makeup Workshops into a single 2-hour session.
• The in-person workshop is only available in select locations around Canada.

 

Find a workshop location

Who should attend this workshop?

This workshop is available to anyone who is about to start cancer treatment, is currently in treatment or has completed treatment in the last 12 months and would like information about or support around this topic.

Skincare & Makeup Workshop

Discover practical ways to manage the physical side effects of cancer treatment on your skin, hair, and face, including skincare, makeup, hair loss, wigs and other head coverings. Available online or in-person

This workshop is available ONLINE and IN-PERSON.

ONLINE

• The ONLINE workshop is one hour long and is delivered via Zoom.
  
• Relax and learn from the comfort of your own home.

Register for an online workshop

IN-PERSON

• The IN-PERSON workshop is 2 hours long.
• Called Skincare, Makeup & Hair, it combines both our Skincare & Makeup and our Wigs & Hair Alternatives workshops.
  
• In-person workshops are only available in select locations around Canada. 

Prefer in-person? Click here!

Who should attend this workshop?

This workshop is available to anyone who is:

• about to start cancer treatment
• is currently in treatment or
• has completed treatment in the last 12 months and would like information about or support around this topic.

The Confidence Kit

Participants in the Skincare & Makeup workshop receive a free kit of skincare and cosmetics products.

These products are generously donated to Look Good Feel Better and meet the regulations set forth by Health Canada.

These products are for educational purposes, so you may practice the techniques explained in the workshop.

• In-person workshop: You will receive the kit in the workshop.
• Online workshop: The kit will be shipped to you. It generally arrives 15-20 business days AFTER the workshop.

Prior to Hair Loss

• Depending on your specific treatment protocol, your hair could thin or fall out completely during treatment.
• Your oncology team will be able to inform you when to expect hair loss.
• If you want a wig to match your current hairstyle, colour and texture, consider looking for a wig before starting treatment.
• You can also take pictures of your current hair from all sides and bring those with you when choosing a wig.

Shaving your head

• Watching hair fall out in clumps can be emotionally distressing. Some people prefer to shave it off before too much hair falls out.
• A very short haircut (e.g. 1/8 of an inch) can help ease scalp sensitivity and ease the emotional distress of seeing hair fall out in clumps. 

Full Hair Loss

• When hair loss starts, your scalp will be very sensitive, and hair will fall out gradually
• This is when you might want to cut your hair to at least 1/8 of an inch
• You also may want to wear a sleep cap during the day and at night to catch your hair
• Consider having two sleep caps – one for day, the other for sleeping

Caring for your Scalp

• When you’ve lost your hair, your scalp may become drier
• Gently massage your scalp with your facial moisturizer to make it feel more comfortable and increase circulation to your stressed hair follicles
• Caring for your scalp will greatly reduce sensitivity and itchiness, allowing you to wear a wig, scarf, or hat more comfortably

Tips to keep your hands and feet healthy:

1. Avoid cutting your cuticles. Instead, use cuticle cream to help combat dryness, splitting and hangnails.

2. Moisturize with a rich hand cream.

3. Keep nails short.

4. Wear rubber gloves while doing chores as excessive exposure to water can lead to fungal infection of the nail bed.

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. 

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.

I was a new translator for Look Good Feel Better when I was offered the chance to attend a workshop to see for myself how a session was run.

I had already translated a number of testimonials from people who’d experienced a workshop, and what always stood out was the warm welcome from the volunteers, their expertise and their respect for the participants. Some mentioned how, once the workshop had begun, apprehensions disappeared and were replaced by joy—a feeling not always present during cancer. Others said that being surrounded by people going through the same experience as them gave them much-needed moral support, without realising it. For others still, the workshop was energising, as it broke the social isolation caused by the almost daily medical appointments, the omnipresent fear during the ordeal, the gruelling treatments, and the exhaustion that overtook them as time went by.

The testimonials echoed the scale of the challenges a person needs to overcome during cancer. However, when I attended a workshop, I was able to see another side of the story: the volunteers, like fairies, were busy preparing the room with care and rigour. Sure moves, no doubt performed a thousand times before, were carried out with enthusiasm and team spirit; we weren’t welcoming the Queen of England, but it just seemed the same! It was beautiful, it was real. Most of them had already done a full day’s work for their employer, but these specialists in make-up, skin care or hair prostheses had chosen to commit themselves to their community out of generosity and solidarity. The women who were about to come forward were in great need of the expertise of these volunteer specialists, and they understood this.

I took a seat at a table and, as soon as the first participants arrived, I saw the magic happen. The volunteers knew how to read the participants: the welcome was both friendly and respectful, never intrusive; everyone had their own space, depending on whether they were more reserved or more open.

These women who had come that evening to learn how to look ‘normal’ again, even though nothing in their lives was normal at the time, these women who had chosen to leave their homes in spite of great fatigue, unpredictable nausea or a morale that wasn’t always up to scratch, found themselves gathered in this room for (essentially) the same reasons: the desire to take back control of their lives, against all odds. They were going to discover make-up tips and tricks to redraw their lost eyebrows, to restore their complexion, to take care of their dull skin and their nails damaged by chemotherapy and radiotherapy. And perhaps they would be tempted to try on a wig to camouflage a now bald head, or a scarf that they’ll learn to wear in a variety of clever ways.

From that evening in February, I remember the spirit of sisterhood that springs naturally from a Look Good Feel Better workshop: women helping other women they don’t know, whom they may never see again. In time, some of them may forget the names of the others, these angels who were there for them for an evening; but the warmth of their exchanges will remain with them forever. As the American novelist and poet Maya Angelou put it so well: ‘People will forget what you said, they will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel’. For a few hours, the volunteers and participants will have been cosmic sisters, sisters of the heart. For a few hours, they will have shared a complicity and a friendship that normally takes years to develop between two people, through living side by side and sharing life experiences. That’s the power of a Look Good Feel Better workshop.

When I was offered the job of translating content for Look Good Feel Better, I hesitated at first. I felt uneasy. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to, or even if I could, write about such a difficult subject—women affected by a serious illness that often leads to harsh treatment. I’d had breast cancer a year earlier and, a few years later, would be overcoming a second one that would require even tougher treatments. I finally agreed, but gave myself the right to withdraw if the experience proved too harsh. Then I realised that this mission to look good and feel better was a regular (and happy) reminder that human nature is fundamentally good. In fact, during the second cancer, I only kept Look Good Feel Better as a client. I insisted on continuing this work, because the stories and testimonials had a calming effect on me. Look Good Feel Better reminded me every day that I wasn’t alone. And everything is so much sweeter when you don’t feel alone, isn’t it?
 

It was on Christmas morning — while in the shower, thinking of my children and the celebrations and everything that needed to be done — that I first felt the lump. I wanted to believe it was nothing, just like the doctors had told me before, when I’d had clogged milk ducts while breastfeeding — but deep down, I knew something was different this time. 

When I left Bangladesh and came to Canada five years ago with just my husband and two small children, I never dreamed that I’d soon be facing stage 3 breast cancer in a new land, thousands of kilometres away from my family. I felt so very alone. And I had a hard time accepting my diagnosis. I’ve always lived a healthy, disciplined lifestyle. In my family, everyone looked to me as the example of good health — I was the one who knew what foods to eat and how to live the right way. I did everything right, and yet still, I was the one who got cancer. It didn’t seem fair.

I struggled to accept what was happening to me, but one thing was clear: I had no choice but to face whatever was coming. I have kids, I have a family — I wanted to live.

My treatment involved eight rounds of chemotherapy, a lumpectomy, and 19 rounds of radiation. I hid my pain, sickness, and sadness from my husband and son and daughter as much as possible. I didn’t want my husband to lose strength — he had so much on his shoulders, taking care of me and the kids. I had no one to turn to, no one to talk to. I was desperately stressed out and frustrated. And I felt so helpless — I’m a very independent person who suddenly wasn’t able to do much on my own.

Fortunately, I realized that this wasn’t a permanent situation. I knew I would be alright after my treatment, and so I accepted the pain and the reality of what I was facing. I endured the vomiting, nausea, and painful burns from radiation. And little by little, things started to look up. I found support. I found strength. And through the big dark cloud that is cancer, I found small rays of hope.

Every cloud has a silver lining, or as we say in Bangladesh, “shesh bhalo jar, shob bhalo tar” – “all’s well that ends well,” basically. Despite the hardships, cancer brought me unexpected gifts. When my hair grew back after my treatment, for the first time ever it was curly — something I had always wanted. Post-chemo, my skin is so much better. And I got to model again, thanks to Look Good Feel Better (LGFB). In my home country, I had a modelling career, but that all stopped when I came to Canada. Participating in the LGFB photo shoot brought back so many good memories. The feeling of being in the spotlight again was incredible.

Cancer has also made me a better person. I’m much stronger mentally now and I have a deeper sense of gratitude for life. I’m prepared to be a good advisor for anyone else going through a cancer journey. And I really want to contribute, to give back. I want to share my story and my positivity, and to support other cancer patients — especially back in my home country, where cancer treatment resources are limited. In Canada, I got the best cancer treatment possible. But Bangladesh is a developing country, and those who have cancer there are suffering immensely. One day, I hope to return to share what I’ve learned and support those who need it most.