Best face forward
Fighting back from the isolation of cancer.
Maria Pomare had never worn makeup before, besides a little bit of lipstick. She couldn’t believe how she looked all done-up. ‘‘I can’t wait for my husband to see me,’’ she says, with a huge smile spreading across her face. She laughed when he didn’t recognise her.
Putting on makeup in the morning is more than just part of the workday routine for some. It can be meditative, transformative even: an act of kindness to one’s self.
Donning metaphorical war-paint signals to the world that you’re ready to take on the day. For women being treated for cancer, it’s about confronting their baldness and dry skin with some compassion.
Pomare fits working as a cleaner at a Kura Kaupapa in Otara around weekly chemotherapy sessions.
She’s been working hard to keep her mind off cancer.
To have a day ‘‘not taking pills or being plugged up to wires’’ is a welcome change, she adds, as she enters the Manukau Superclinic. Pomare isn’t wearing a headscarf. Chemotherapy has left her with only patches of hair, and she could lose even that.
Inside, she sits down with 11 other women from a variety of cultural backgrounds and of different ages who’re all being treated for cancer and are here for some respite.
Some of the other women also no longer have hair, or it is growing back slowly.
They sit in front of a wall of mirrors. Makeup that has been donated by cosmetic companies sits on the benches.
Dozens of silk and cotton scarves in bright blues, greens and purples, hang over a whiteboard.
Each person in the group is paired with a volunteer, who cleanses and gently massages their face, head, and hands.
They then learn how to apply makeup, and pencil in disappearing eyebrows.
Tutor Carole Bird tells the class that toner can be harsh on the skin if you’re going through chemotherapy, but it’s perfect in the crook of an elbow or on the neck when you go on what she calls ‘‘tropical holidays,’’ which actually means hot flushes.
That’s what these workshops are about – women helping other women. Some of the 800-strong group of volunteers have been in the chair themselves, and are eager to give back after their own recovery.
The group watch in awe as Bird twists a secondhand silk scarf around her model’s head, creating a rosette design.
‘‘Wow, she’s the bomb,’’ one of the women in the group, Judith, calls out.
It takes a little while, but the strangers soon start to become friends.
They trade compliments, and gush in unison as they are shown how to change their look with just a wig or a hat, or the stroke of a makeup brush. There’s a sense of camaraderie amidst the chaos of voices.
For the duration of the two-hour workshop, cancer is no longer the elephant in the room.
Look Good, Feel Better began in the United States in the late 80s and has helped more than 1.8 million women in 26 countries.
I can’t wait for my husband to see me. Maria Pomare
The charity has been in New Zealand for two decades, helping an estimated 40,000 women during their radiotherapy, or chemotherapy treatments. More than 3000 women took part in workshops across 37 centres last year alone.
These workshops offer a break from sterile hospital rooms and chemotherapy suites. Attendees are welcomed with a cup of tea, soothing music and breathing exercises. It’s time to just relax.
Pomare is from Papatoetoe and has been receiving treatment for a cancer she struggles to even pronounce: Persistent gestational trophoblastic disease (GTD).
GTD is a group of rare diseases, where abnormal blast cells grow in the uterus after pregnancy.
‘‘The workshop was a break away from all of that,’’ says Pomare as she leaves.
The mother-of-eight was diagnosed two days after welcoming in the 2017 New Year with her family. She says she first went to the doctor with a sore throat.
They ran some tests initially thinking she might be pregnant, but they found something else.
‘‘I flipped out. The doctor told me, and I ran outside and broke down.’’
Pomare spent the next three months in the hospital.
Cancer took her by surprise, but she says she is determined to get better so she can see her second grand-daughter, who was born this year, grow up.
Although some of the women in the group admitted they were nervous about the workshop, Pomare says she was excited.
She’d been referred into the programme by her doctor and was eager to meet people going through a similarly tough time.
‘‘It felt like a step forwards. No matter what might happen the next day, or the one after that – you just carry on.’’
Look Good Feel Better general manager Clare O’Higgins says the confidence of knowing, ‘‘I can do this, I can go through treatment without looking like I have cancer,’’ can be what makes someone want to leave the house in the morning. That’s particularly important for those who continue working through treatment.
Cancer can be an intensely individual and isolating experience, so interacting with people going through something similar can take some of the loneliness out of it.
Independent research conducted in the UK assessed the before and after levels of confidence among those attending the Look Good Feel Better workshops.
Of the 2000 women surveyed, 98 per cent said it was positive for them to spend time with women in a similar situation, and a further 97 per cent said they felt their confidence and self-esteem strengthened during treatment as a result of the workshops.
More than 900 of those women were contacted 3-4 months after treatment: patient confidence levels were still at 96 per cent, they found.
UK charity Macmillan Cancer Support reported four in five women with cancer felt that the visible effects affected their confidence. Of these, 65 per cent didn’t know how to conceal them.
In New Zealand, a 2016/2017 patient survey found 81 per cent of women felt their inner and outer confidence improved after the class, and 87 per cent said their morale lifted.
It’s not just women who are helped by Look Good Feel Better. Last week, the organisation launched its first men’s support group.
Ten men attended the first class in Whangarei, focused on grooming, skin care and exercise.
Look Good Feel Better paired with Pinc & Steel, a group of cancer-rehabilitation physiotherapists who specialise teaching men and women how to stay active and strong during treatment.
O’Higgins says it was ‘‘a kind of independence day’’.
The second men’s workshop will be taking place at the end of July in Hamilton, and will be rolling out across the country over the rest of the year. The charity will also be starting workshops in a further two centres, to meet increasing demand.
Anyone receiving treatment for any form of cancer is eligible for a Look Good Feel Better workshop. There are a number of ways they can take part. Some, like Pomare, are referred by their doctors or nurses, others apply online by themselves.
But no one is turned away, O’Higgins says.
‘‘Every person deserves a day like this.’’
Sarah McCambridge, health psychologist and manager of the Cancer Society Auckland’s psychology service, says finding a ‘‘new normal’’ during treatment can be difficult physically and emotionally.
Look Good Feel Better helps this process because an improved appearance can have a huge psychological effect on self-esteem.
Cancer can contribute to hair loss, weight loss, and other changes in appearance.
So ‘‘getting on with things’’ isn’t easy when you’re dealing with the loss of confidence and self-esteem caused by the cancer, McCambridge says.
‘‘We forget sometimes that these issues don’t just stop when treatment does.’’
The self-care skills and knowledge taught in the workshops can be extremely beneficial, she adds.