Cancer patients support each other with beauty secrets during treatment

At first, the meeting room at Samaritan Regional Cancer Center was quiet, as the women and men sitting in a semi-circle waited with a little trepidation for class to begin.

In front of them, small mirrors winked and glimmered, ready for use. On a desk at the front of the room, boxes and boxes of cosmetics stood ready. Carol Olufson, program assistant for the cancer center, helped cosmetologist Joyce Meyers sort through the boxes, making sure there was one for everyone.

Finally, Meyers stood in front of the group and smiled.

"We're going to have a lot of fun," she said. "It's not serious business."

Look Good — Feel Better is a program dedicated to giving female cancer patients the tools they need to deal with the appearance-related side effects of cancer treatments such as radiation and chemotherapy. The class is offered every six weeks at the center.

Some of the women in the class were just starting treatment. Others were halfway through. Some had long, lush hair. Some had lost even their eyelashes. But all the women in the room knew what it means to be a fighter, and how important it is to keep their spirits high in the face of adversity.

The free class, taught by Meyers and other volunteer cosmetologists, teaches cancer patients how to apply makeup, how to keep makeup clean to not introduce bacteria into compromised immune systems, and how to do things such as draw eyebrows or tie scarves artistically around bald heads.

"It does make a difference," Meyers said. "If you look good, you do feel better."

Each student receives $200 in donated new cosmetics from various cosmetic companies.

"It's nice, nice stuff," Olufson said. "Stuff I don't wear."

"Four hundred different cosmetic companies donate products," Meyers said, including Clinique, Estee Lauder and Cover Girl. Each kit is a little different, and only when students open their boxes is it revealed exactly what they've got.

"It's even Christmas for us," Meyers joked.

Participants also can receive wigs, as long as they return them to the program once their treatment is over and they no longer need them. The emphasis is on self-pampering and self-esteem.

When Meyers, assisted by cosmetologists Lucy Wu and Dian Wright, handed out the boxes of makeup, the chattering began. The sound of compacts opening and clicking shut, plastic bags rustling and a bit of "oohing" and "aahing" filled the room.

Many of the students were accompanied by friends, husbands and other family members, who helped sort through the boxes. One husband gingerly untwisted a tube of lipstick to check the color, while his wife demonstrated the effects of a concealer stick.

"You do not have to use every single item," Meyers said. "The most important part is how to get it out of containers without touching it."

In one corner, Barbara Zanon and her long-time friend, Lorraine Cantrell, looked excitedly through Zanon's pile of new makeup.

"You can't do eyebrows," Cantrell said jokingly. "You don't have any."

"I don't have eyelashes either," Zanon replied, and they both laughed.

Across the room, someone exclaimed that a toner "set her on fire!" Meyers explained the importance of using moisturizer, especially during treatment, when skin often becomes ultra-sensitive.

Wright hovered over Zanon's makeup pile and found a container of moisturizer.

"Here's your Mood Swirls moisturizer," she said, handing the container to Zanon.

"Oh, is that going to get me in a good mood?" Zanon laughed. Clearly, she didn't need any help from the moisturizer to lift her spirits.

"No double-dipping, ladies," Meyers warned, constantly reminding the class to keep their makeup clean and bacteria-free.

Cantrell and Zanon have lived next door to each other for seven years. Cantrell had previously gone through a mastectomy, so when Zanon was diagnosed with lung and liver cancer, she was ready to lend her support and empathy.

"I look after her when she has her bad days," Cantrell said. "She has a wonderful disposition, a nice outlook."

"Hey, it's better than sitting here crying," Zanon shot back.

Zanon was having trouble seeing the mirror without her glasses, but she deftly applied makeup with a practiced hand. She has three more chemotherapy treatments, and she's already lost all of her hair. Her doctor told Zanon that her lungs were already 50 percent better.

"When women go into treatment, everybody's getting something done to them," Olufson said. "This is time to take care of themselves. I've seen people transformed. It's not about makeup. It's about being with people in the same boat."

Given the laughter, the conversations, and the smiles in the room, the effect of the class was apparent.

"It's one of the most rewarding things I've ever done," Olufson said.

"I walk away," Meyers said, "with far more than they do."

Theresa Hogue is the higher education reporter for the Gazette-Times. She can be reached at theresa.hogue@lee.net or 758-9526.