Cleaning Your Wig

Synthetic-Hair Wig:

1. With a wide-tooth comb, gently but thoroughly brush or comb your wig before washing.
   
2. Fill sink with cold water and thoroughly mix in 1 to 2 tbsp. (15–30 ml) of appropriate shampoo.
3. Turn wig inside out, swish through water, and submerge a few times.
4. Drain sink and refill with fresh cold water, then immerse wig a few times to rinse.
5. Gently shake water from wig over the sink – do not squeeze or twist.
6. Place on wire stand to dry – about eight to 12 hours.
7. Never comb or brush a wig when it’s wet; wait until it’s completely dry.

Human-Hair Wig:

1. Run wig under warm water.
2. Place a small amount of shampoo on fingers and gently work into the hair, stroking downward from the weft (base) to the ends.
3. Rinse thoroughly under warm running water until water runs clear.
4. Place a small amount of conditioner in your hand; gently work into hair and let sit for three to five minutes.
5. Rinse thoroughly in warm water.
6. Gently comb wet hair with a wide-tooth comb from weft to ends.
7. Place on wire stand to dry.

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

Losing your hair during cancer treatment can be emotional and overwhelming. Learn about what to expect with hair loss, how to care for your scalp during and after treatment, all about wigs and other hair alternatives, including scarf-tying techniques.

This workshop is available ONLINE and IN-PERSON

Online Workshop

• 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 Workshop

• 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 hair loss, wigs, and other hair alternatives.

Skincare & Makeup Workshop

Skincare and makeup for people facing cancer should feel approachable, not overwhelming. 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.

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. 

By Adriana Lombardo

Let me be blunt with you. These past few months have been crap – to put it politely.

Only now is it hitting me: Survivor’s Guilt.

Why did I survive a deadly disease while I had to bury people I’ve met along the way?

Why am I finding it so difficult to move forward with my life without feeling extremely guilty?

This sucks!

I knew this feeling may come. I’d heard of survivor’s guilt and was aware of the emotions I had yet to face, but to be honest with you, I had started living and actually enjoying life without having to worry about appointments, etc, that I didn’t think it was going to happen.

I thought I was one of the lucky ones who wouldn’t go through it – who am I kidding. 

As sad as this may be, or as weird as it may come across, I miss having cancer.

Weird, huh?

Who would ever say such words?

Let me explain:

Life was easier when I was sick; at least it seemed to be.

I didn’t have much to worry about other than chemo, appointments, procedures, if the cancer was going to kill me or not, you know, the usual “cancer stuff.”

Now that I’m back “in the real world,” I find myself struggling to accept that chapter has now closed.

It was two-plus long years of fighting and not having any worries about anything other than me.

I’ve moved on, almost as if nothing ever happened, but I find myself holding onto anger and pain and all these other emotions that I have never accepted until now.

I smiled all throughout my treatment – a genuine smile – but now I find I’m faking one to show people that I’m still alright.

How do you explain to people that while going through cancer I was genuinely doing fine, but now I feel as if I’m not?

I know it’s not up to me to explain this to anyone but that’s the thing about society – once you’ve gone through any sort of heartache, they expect you to pick up and keep going without actually acknowledging what you’ve gone through.

But that’s just it: once you’re “healed” or “cured”, people stop asking how you are because they assume everything is alright. That you’re “back to normal”.

I’m still trying to figure out my new normal while juggling these emotions.

It saddens me to know I had to remove my rose-coloured glasses at such a young age and that the benefit of the doubt doesn’t really exist once you’ve gone through cancer.

You see things and people for what and who they really are.

Anger and frustration followed.

Like I mentioned earlier, there are a lot of emotions that I’m battling now with Survivor’s Guilt.    

It’s a matter of finding a balance between not letting go and moving forward.  

I’m going to challenge myself for the next month. My goal is not to have it all figured out, but to accept what I’m feeling and just let myself feel it.

No one will ever have it figured out, so why should I?

I’m not sure that I’ll figure out why I’m feeling the way that I do, but I do owe myself ways of figuring out how to deal with it.

It’s going to be challenging but I’m going to learn to love myself all over again for the sake of my mental health and wellbeing.

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.

By JC Chessell

It’s funny – as I sit here about to blog on my ‘expertise’ with hats and scarves, I find myself wearing a knitted toque aptly placed on my head. I do not know which came first: my love affair with hats or the loss of hair, which led me to my love affair of hats. Whichever it is, I still find myself wearing hats and head coverings A LOT. And I love it!

Today, I wear them out of personal freedom and choice but wearing hats during my treatment is forever a memory etched on my heart. Having cancer made it less of an option and more of a necessity for me to wear hats, but I enjoyed the look and the way they warmly protected my head.

I’d like to share my personal guide to “Covering Your Head During Cancer Treatment”.

Let’s say you’ve just been diagnosed and are thinking of covering your head with SOMETHING. You will discover there are various options for your head covering: hats, scarves and wigs (natural and synthetic).

Having so many choices gives us each more control as we move through our personal journeys. You will find that having a head covering, such as a scarf or hat, gives such a nice, quick pick-me-up and you may feel better about yourself and your outward appearance. 

I mainly wore hats through my chemotherapy and radiation sessions. I kept my natural-hair wig for special occasions, like weddings and events.

Since I was diagnosed at the end of summer going into fall and cold winter weather followed, practically speaking, hats were my favourite and most sensible option. As you decide which head covering to go with, try to think about what look you want to present.

Hats give us SO many options, from fun and sassy to a more laid-back, practical type of look. You will see how your face changes as you wear different shapes, from the wide-rimmed to the smaller fisherman cap. And it only takes a second to put on a hat. Again, the choice is yours.

Scarves, I find, are a better option for spring/summer weather. Your scalp has breathing space due to the softer fabrics and overall, scarves have a lighter feel on the head. If you allow your imagination to run really wild, you can create a gorgeous scarf ‘up-do’ with layers of different scarves, thus allowing for height and dimension to frame your face—think Eryka Badu.

If you are deciding on a scarf option, my only advice would be to stay away from silk since the fabric slides off easily on bald or short hair scalp and will become more of an annoyance rather than anything else. The rest is up to you. And this is really where you get to play up different looks

Thankfully, new companies pop up offering us so many options with fabrics, colours and texture. And here’s a little do-it yourself tidbit: go to Fabricland, pick out a pattern that catches your eye—one that speaks to you. Ask the sales associate to cut off a specific amount of it (enough to wrap around your head at least twice) and make into a headscarf yourself. You may need to practice the wrapping a few times but soon enough, you’ll be an expert.

You should know that Look Good Feel Better workshops offer head/scarf wrapping info catering specifically to you and me, so that we can become more comfortable with how to wear our scarves in different ways.  There are also lots of scarf-tying tutorials on YouTube, to give you even more ideas. You can start with this from Look Good Feel Better.

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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.
 

When my doctor told me I needed to fast-track fertility treatments if I wanted to have more children in the future, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I was 33 and suddenly the option of having more children — the spontaneity, the joy of it — wasn’t mine anymore. I didn’t want to tell my partner, who didn’t have any children of his own yet. I felt like I was robbing him of an experience he might have naturally had with someone else, someone who wasn’t going through breast cancer. It made me feel flawed, as though something was wrong with me. 

Eventually I did tell my partner, and he was very supportive. He accompanied me to my treatments. But opening up about my diagnosis was hard. In Caribbean culture, especially among the older generation, people tend to be very private about their health. When I found out I had cancer, I wanted to keep the news to myself — even from my partner, family, and friends. But as things progressed, I realized I couldn’t do it alone. 

I’d had a lumpectomy years ago, for a benign lump, which I had kept secret. I thought I could do the same this time — have a bit of chemo and downtime and then go back to my regular life and work as a nurse, with no one the wiser. I didn’t want my mother to worry. “Here we go again,” I said to myself. “I can do this.” But this time was different. I didn’t realize how much my treatment would break me down physically. Suddenly, I couldn’t even walk to the bathroom or wash my face on my own. I told my family and they stepped in to help. 

My sister was an absolute godsend. She moved in and helped with all the day-to-day stuff — laundry, groceries. But most importantly, she really helped with my 10-year-old daughter. She took her to the movies, did her nails, and took her to her dance lessons and recitals, making sure her life wouldn’t be completely turned upside down.

I had trouble breaking things down and explaining what was going on to my daughter. Kids learn about cancer at school through Terry Fox, so naturally she asked if I was going to die like he did. I couldn’t answer her questions without falling apart, so having my sister there — and also getting my daughter into a children’s support group — was essential.

My treatment — chemo, a mastectomy, radiation, and IV therapy — took everything from me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I felt like cancer had stripped me bare, leaving me with no say, no control, nothing.

And then I was introduced to Look Good Feel Better (LGFB). Honestly, I wasn’t going to go. I was feeling awful and I didn’t want to socialize. I was very closed off and isolated. But I put my fear aside and attended the workshop, and I’m so grateful I did. The air felt so loveable when I got there — so welcoming, inviting, uplifting, and warm. It ended up being the most amazing experience. Everyone was talking and joking around, being so supportive. I didn’t expect to feel beautiful when I walked out. LGFB is like a sisterhood. When I was feeling broken and bare, it lifted me up and helped me to feel loved. 

Today, I’m getting used to a new normal. I’ve had to accept that I’m never going to feel the way I did before cancer. But I’ve also realized that it’s okay to lean on others and to find strength in sisterhood.