Wigs and whimsy

When Kathleen Domenico of Linville was undergoing treatment for breast cancer at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center several months ago, it wasn't just her body that needed to heal.

The cancer had started spreading to her stomach, and for a time it appeared that treatments were not helping her make progress. Domenico, 59, also found it difficult to cope with the loss of her hair, calling it "so devastating for a woman" because "that's her image."

"I got so depressed," she said. "That's why I asked to see someone."

That someone was Richard P. McQuellon, a psychologist who specializes in addressing depression and other quality-of-life issues faced by the center's cancer patients.

McQuellon also is the director of the psychosocial oncology and cancer patient support programs. He counseled Domenico, but he also handed her the "Chemo-Girl's Wig and Hat Catalog," a wallet-sized booklet with illustrations and pithy descriptions by Dell James of Winston-Salem.

The booklet is a companion piece for James' mixed-media art, which has been displayed on the third floor of the Comprehensive Cancer Center at Wake Forest Baptist since October. James said her "Chemo-Girls" art is a gift to the center. She said it will be on display at the center for as long as they want it to be part of the patient support programs.

The catalog and the display feature the same eight items, though two from the display are now on exhibit at Senior Services of Winston-Salem. One is "The Softie," which James describes as "purest duck down (combining) into a fluffy mélange for a comfy, lighter-than-air creation."

"The Don't Touch Me," another item in the catalog, is described as "fabricated of barbed wire with interchangeable warning signs." It is "for those days when you just want to be left alone."

Domenico said she glances at the catalog each day.

"I thought it was extremely thoughtful," she said, recalling her first reaction to it. "It was caring as well as funny. Humor can put an edge on it that lifts your spirit. I could certainly identify with every single picture."

Neena Mabe, also a cancer patient, believes each of the Chemo-Girls images expresses an emotion a patient likely will experience during treatment.

That "gives you comfort each time you come in for treatment because you can say, 'Yes, I feel like The Don't Touch Me today,' or 'Today is definitely a Tea and Sympathy Day,' " she said in an email.

James, 73, got into making visual art about eight years ago after she took a drawing course at the Sawtooth School for Visual Art. Until then, she had written articles and public-relations pieces and taught writing. Several of James's writing students are artists.

"They were really good writers," she said. "They had descriptive ability that I didn't have. I decided I would learn to see like an artist."

For James, this skill means making observations slowly and carefully before they're translated into images. It came in handy when she set about creating the pieces in the "Chemo-Girls" collection.

"Chemo-Girls" originated with a conversation James had with an out-of-town friend who was starting a year of chemo treatments. When James told the friend she planned to send her cards and books to stay in touch, she asked James not to send "any little pink books."

"I think she was referring to a lot of published material for cancer patients, which is very serious, spiritual and inspirational," James said. "I wondered what kind of books my friend might like. I started thinking about the kinds of emotions patients might have during treatment, and since she is a person who often handles adversity with humor, a 'Chemo-Girl's Wig and Hat Catalog' seemed to fit the bill."

James said she has considered doing "Chemo-Girls"-like projects for men and children, but she said she would need to do a number of interviews first.

"I know so many women who have talked about their chemo freely to me," she said by email. "This has not been the case with men and children."

By the time James had finished work on all the items in the "Chemo-Girls" collection, her friend had completed her treatment. James showed the friend the pictures.

"Then (I) showed them to some other friends who had gone through chemotherapy to make sure I was on the right track and my work would not trivialize or offend patients."

The "Chemo-Girls" artwork ended up at the Comprehensive Cancer Center after James sent some catalogs to McQuellon and arrangements were made for the artwork to go on display. James had known McQuellon for several years and thought the catalogs might be useful to him and his patients.

For James, who often creates collections of art, "Chemo-Girls" has become "the most from-the-heart" painting project she has ever done.

"Somehow, without knowing I could do this with my limited art skills, I seem to have been able to make something that speaks to people," she said by email.

McQuellon believes James has succeeded.

"It's a very thoughtful work, capturing the moods of patients as they go through their care and survivor-ship," he said. "The 'Chemo-Girls' stand with patients to help them navigate the sadness. They do that through distraction, attraction and humor."

McQuellon also suggested James's work and other kinds of art have become essential parts of the healing process.

"We are doing our best to tend to the whole patient: body, mind, spirit," he said. "People don't come here just as bodies. They come as physical beings, emotional and mental beings and spiritual beings."