Last week I attended a Look Good, Feel Better (LGFB) workshop at the BC Cancer Agency’s Fraser Valley centre (at Surrey Memorial Hospital). During our initial teaching session, the chemotherapy pharmacist at the hospital where I am having treatment mentioned to me that I should check out the LGFB program because she had found that many female patients had found it helpful. Based on a cursory look at the LGFB website, I immediately decided to register for one of their workshops, because it looked to me like it would be a session about self confidence and self care.
Rather than a presentation and discussion about how to look after ourselves physically during cancer treatment, we received a makeup and skincare lesson that just gave all the normal steps for putting on a full face of makeup: cleanse, tone, moisturize, the whole deal. The presenter read from cards that were provided by the LGFB organization and didn’t provide much further information. A few tips were given here and there, but for the most part, it was all just read from a presentation packet. There was a short discussion about wig options and care toward the end, but I would say it was only about 25% of the presentation. The most useful information for me came from other participants who had experience with wearing wigs.
I want it to make it clear that I’m not lashing out at the use of makeup. I think makeup is great and I admire those who are skilled at using it, but it’s never been my thing. I have painfully reactive skin and have to be very careful with what I put on my face. I have psoriasis, rosacea, and keratosis pilaris. I told my dermatologist awhile back that I used coconut oil as my body moisturizer and also that I was trying to go cruelty free with my beauty products and he scowled at me and gave me a list of suggested products that were basically all just Cetaphil and CeraVe. Whenever beauty YouTubers I watch talk about how gentle products are and how great they are at calming their skin, I try them and they literally burn my face. I can’t use any scented products because chances are they will aggravate my psoriasis or give me a huge rash.
Basically, I struggle with my skin. When I try new products, I try them one at a time so that I know which product is causing me to flare up. During the workshop, we were given a donated kit of products (which is huge and probably has about $300 worth of free products in it) and we were expected to do the skincare and makeup steps as the presenter read the LGFB instructions.
When I explained that I wouldn’t be able to use the products due to my skin issues, the presenter seemed quite frustrated. When other members of the group decided to forego a step or two here and there, she also seemed quite frustrated. I’m not sure why the presenter was so prickly about us not following along exactly as she expected but our group seemed to listen actively and attentively. I probably should have mentioned that the neuropathy in my hands has had such a negative effect on my manual dexterity that I couldn’t do a full face of makeup now if I tried, but I was having a rough day with it and didn’t feel comfortable disclosing this to the whole group.
The free products were an extremely kind gesture and I did get a lot of high quality skincare loot for free. Each kit contained the products necessary to do a full four-step skincare routine and a full face of makeup. The products were a good mix of drugstore and department store brands, such as Clinique, Vichy, MAC and Cover Girl. I have tried out a few of the products at home and I’m happy to have some of them, especially since I don’t have any money coming in at the moment. Not having to buy new cleanser and serum for a time will be a huge help to my already tight budget.
I guess the best way to frame my disappointment in the workshop, other than the fact that I thought the presenter was unnecessarily prickly, was that the only solution offered to the shittiness of cancer treatment was makeup. It just felt a little superficial and outdated to me. The presenter often used the phrase “feel like yourself again” but I would argue that women undergoing cancer treatment don’t need to feel like ourselves again, we need to get to know or learn how to cope with our new self. Or really, several new selves: the self of chemotherapy, of radiation and of survivorship. Sure, I might get a wig to help me feel more confident and comfortable in public, but what I really need is some tips on how to deal with looking at myself in the mirror and seeing a bald head.
This could all be a bit much to expect, but I think that LGFB could do a little better. Maybe I was stuck with a presenter that wasn’t great, but I think maybe starting with a knowledgeable discussion about the realities of how cancer changes the way you look over reading basic makeup steps from a booklet might be a better way to go.