Cancer is like wearing white socks with dress shoes

Today I spoke in front of 500 people who attended the English mass, here in my parish church. I was nervous, actually sweating. I was told to deliver a 2 minute speech and did the best I could. I rose to the podium and I felt my voice cracking. I was scared I was going to cry in front of all these strangers. "Lisa, try to compose yourself."

Short but sweat, I spoke about Wigged Out In Purple and TAVOLA GRANDE. I spoke about how I was diagnosed and how they should hit the site for more info. I walked back to my seat as the sound of applause follwed me. The clapping made me feel wierd. When the mass was over I was confronted by people with heartfelt support and hugs. One woman commended me on my fundraising campaign and told me that she had 2 people in her family who had died from Lymphoma Cancer. I had to hug her for she had tears in her eyes. As the crowd broke away, I saw a friend of mine who I had not seen in months, and broke down in her arms. I was happy to see her.

I wake up everyday. I grab my coffee. Check my agenda. I answer my emails. I contact sponsors. This campaign has become my job. I think of something for the blog. Some people think my blog is sad. Some find it entertaining. I am not here to make people cry nor am I here to make people happy. "It is just a day in the life of", says my friend Rosa. I write about my feelings and my thoughts in hopes that, I too, will get something from my own writings after reading it, over and over. I am learning everything about Lymphoma cancer as I go along. For some this hits close to home. For others its a way of seeing into the life of someone who was diagnosed with an illness.

I get alot of emails from people with their cancer stories. Not only about Lymphoma, but about other cancers and how they relate. Cancer is too common now. Its like wearing white socks with dress shoes - It's still going on, will it ever STOP? Children, adults, the elderly. Everyone has a story and all of our stories are similar. Some have a happy ending. Some don't. I am not trying to find a cure. I am only one person, but people do need to be informed and get checked. I think this is a learning process for all of us. I am lucky because I can now wear dark socks, but I don't ever want to see white ones again!

I am not a comedian - I just dance through life!

We all complain about our lives. It is in our nature. I have always bitched and complained about my family. I am allowed. They have made me who I am today. I make jokes all the time. Whether it's about my grandparents who can't hear me because they forgot to turn on their hearing-aids. Nonno freaking out because he just walked into the patio door after nonna just cleaned it with the Windex. My mother who never sits down at a family gathering because she is just constantly cooking up a storm. My father and my uncles arguing over a good espresso and which coffee blend to buy. Really, who has the best Saeco machine is still a wonder! My cousins with their stories of highschool living which makes me realize how old I am. My aunts, sister and I just sit back and watch it all. My family is composed of many interesting characters.

We have always been a very tight family unit. We know what is going on in eachother's lives. "Everybody Loves Raymond" doesn't have anything on us! lol...When I got sick last August, I saw fear in everyone. Cancer had hit close to home. I wasn't just a paesano, 3rd cousin, twice-removed, related to the neighbor 2 blocks away from the church. I was blood. I was sick. They were scared.

I always knew my family was special...lol...but being sick made me realize that no matter the trials and tribulations, they have my back. It was like, touch Lisa and you would have a posse at your door...lol...No matter how crazy I was growing up, my family accepted me before friends, before strangers, before themselves. Family = selfless love. When they heard the news, never mind getting a second opinion, they wanted a panel of doctors to look over my file because they were convinced a mistake had been made. Then you wonder where I get my stubborness from. Call it being Calabrese. I say it's just being a Polito.

We have become much closer since that day in August, if you can possibly imagine that. As much as I tried to stay strong for them, they became my saftey net when I decided to fall. Hugs have become the standard handshake. A kiss on the cheek has become a way of saying "I love you". I am truly blessed to have them on my side.

My nonna with her belief that her prayers to Santo Rocco cured me. My nonno and his new phone with the big buttons because he can't see very well. My parents who still ask me where I am going and who I am going out with. My cousins who still call me "lisa booga booga". My aunt and I who are truly against pisswater coffee and my uncles who still think coffee is an art...they are so right! (We take coffee very seriously in my family.) My sister and I, who are completely different, bipolar spectrums if you will. We still tell her she is the milkman's baby but it can't be because she totally looks my dad. They are all the pillars on which I stand. I could have as many friends as I want in my life, and as much I am grateful to my friends, my family will be there for life. This is reality. This is life.

My family unit glued together, we became tighter. Family will make you cry but it's because they love you. That is what my nonna tells me constantly. So when she says I look fat in that dress after offering me that extra meatball, she is saying it with love. I could write a whole sitcom based on what I go through with my family. Holidays, birthdays, sickness and health. They still ring at my door, we sit down, we eat, we talk, we drink amazing coffee.

They make me laugh. I am allowed to make jokes. Anyone else does and they will have me to answer to. People think I am funny. They make me funny. I am not a comedian, they just help me dance through life!

Emerging from the shadows - DANG, I am still chubby!!!...lol

Photo albums hold pictures of moments in time. They are meant for you to remember things of the past. You have little keepsakes that remind you of smells, laughs, experiences. I have a red spoon from my first time at Dairy Queen. Rocks I stole from the faux-plant at The Madarin. Those yellow balls from the playroom at Burger King. Please note this was in my teen years!...lol

I never considered myself a popular girl. I was quiet...lol...yup! I always felt I lived in the shadows of my ever popular, beautiful friends. I was Ok with that. Then again it was how I felt at the time. I was always surrounded by good people. We were, what I thought, a power clique. Man, we were invincible. The truth is we were.

I have made friends throughout the years, lost just as many, and thats cool. Its just another lesson that life has to offer. Being sick really makes you realize the roles people play in your life. Unfortunately it is in these times you see the sincerity of some and the "Man I should really be nice to her or I am going to hell" attitude of others. TARDS, I am not stupid!!!

My friends have really come through. It means alot because I could not have done this alone. I remember the first time I broke down with friends. The back seat of a Jeep....lol...Yeah I know stuck in the backseat with 2 girls...jeeze louise...my karma! We all cried. We had a moment. I will remember that. I remember talking to some friends in my backyard. Grass was freshly cut. My goddess-like hair was blowing in the wind. Although it was wet, the smell of freshly washed hair hitting my face is something i'll miss.

My friends stepped up to the plate. They confronted their fears within my illness. They accepted my "slight defectiveness". I think they found strength in themselves. I also think it helped that I would still go out drinking with them. It brought them back to normalcy...lol..

SO here I am, in the process of organizing this event. I am very surprised by the attention it is getting. Most of the attendees are people I don't know. Friends of friends of friends of friends. The snowball gets bigger. Strength in numbers. I think it's great! At one point I thought being sick is what made me gain all this popularity. All of a sudden people felt bad. People wanted to know what was going on in my life. I sort of hated this idea. But I have come to realize (this is the chubby girl from highschool emerging from the shadows), as much as I am who I am, the acceptance of my friends, the trust and love they have within me is what makes me feel on top of the world.

I kept the hair I cut off. I took pictures of my first shave. I took a video of my last chemo treatment. These are little things that will remind me of this trying time in my life. A picture says so much but at the same time it is just a moment of life. It is not the NOW. I have many pictures with friends, but some of those friends are no longer there. I could take forever and a day if I had to spend time writing thank you's to those who have been there for me throughout this difficult time, but this is not my grad write-up. What counts is that they know that I know and it's all good.

First day of Radiation - 20 more to go!

My appointment - 7:30 a.m. I was 3 minutes late. Always to be expected because I am never on time..lol. I have an I.D. card now, which is something like a speedpass. It tells them that I am there and my name shows up on a screen. Really creepy. I get changed. I wait. They call me in. They explain to me what is going to happen. I see my x-rays layed out. I see video surveillance screens because they won't be in the room when I am getting the radiation. So it's toxic for them but is suppose to help in my remission? As smart as I am..lol..I DO get confused...sometimes.

I see other patients. They are all alot older than I am. They look at my mother and I, and they assume that it is her who is about to go in. Then they see me dressed in my blue hospital gown and this veil of saddness just hits their face. I laugh because I am one of the most transparent individuals you will ever meet. My facial expressions speak alot louder than I do and I already pack a mean bark. So when I see the expressions of others I think to myself that maybe I should start censoring myself...lol..they looked so sad! It's like I wanted to go hug them and say,"No worries dude, shit happens!"

This week was not a great week. I have fever and started coughing. I think I am catching a cold. I guess this fluctuation in temperature is not helping. I woke up in sweats the other night and panicked. I thought it was coming back. I am so scared that I will relapse. Think positive? I am a realist by nature. At this point anything can happen. I am really trying hard to start new. It better be a cold...lol...or ill be friggin' pissed!!!

So here I am on this table. My head in my iron maiden mask. They continue to draw lines on me, which tickles, but at the same time I am thinking, "What I would kill to take a decent shower right now!!" You really think of the most stupid things. What is Maggie doing right now? I think I should call her. I wonder when I can start waxing my arms again because I feel like I am competing with Sasquatch. I have to take blood tests tomorrow. I need to meet with a sponsor this weekend. Should I go to the birthday party since I am not feeling so good. I am craving those Tangy Starburst candies.

Jeeze louise. You bombard yourself and become trapped in this daydream. 15 minutes and its over. Reality sets in. I remember why I am there. I surpassed my first radiation treatment. It is like going to bronzage...only I am not getting the tacky, orange tan. Just another step towards being cancer-free!

A thank you to the BOOGA's of the world

Vicki and I had been the only grandchildren, on my father's side, until 1990. Rocco and Maria were born. Elisa to follow in 1991, and Amanda in 1992. I felt complete and I promised myself that I would be there for them in every step of their life. They mean everything to me. I have seen them grow into the intelligent and fashionable adolescents that they are and I get emotional thinking of them. When they were younger my nickname became LISA BOOGA BOOGA, and I am still referred to as such. I have no idea where this name came from but it stuck. We became the BOOGA clan. The 6 of us would go take pictures with Santa Claus, go shopping, watch movies. I remember taking them to Mickie D's and we played in the little playground. I had to ask permission because I was over 4ft tall. I got stuck in the slide and Rocco stuck his foot in my arse to push me out. It's funny now, but jeeze louise did that hurt!

When I got sick I was worried about how they were going to take it. They never asked questions. They took the news like adults. They never showed me that my being ill affected them. I think they were in denial but they always supported my decisions and me throughout my process. They are great kids. They have inspired me and given me strength. You have to understand...my family and I are very, very close. We literally live in walking distance of one another. We are in eachothers lives constantly. I know who it is at the door by how many times they press the doorbell. lol...Maria!!!

My biggest fear was that I was never going to see them again. It sounds stupid to think that I guess, but these 4 were my life. We were the BOOGA's of the world. I did not want them to see me ill but at the same time I wanted them to understand what was happening. I would stop to ask them if they understood and they would only answer by giving me a heartfelt hug. They never cried in front of me and they never showed me how they felt. They literally pulled a Lisa.

We have become stronger, as 6, in the past year. My BOOGA's have grown. I know they worry about me. I know that they are scared. I know they love me. They have accepted me. They have allowed me to continue moving. I could not have crumbled and show them that giving in was an option. I will still be around to see them break hearts, fall in love, have families of their own and become even more fantastical as individuals.

Amanda just turned 16, Elisa 17, Rocco & Maria 18. I observe them closely. I see how they interact. I see how they treat me. BOOGA's I love you all. My life is richer because of you. I will be here for you as you have been there for me. I think we should hit that slide again, this time no ass pushing!

I did not draw lines on my own body...lol!!!

I officially start radio next week...I don't know why it has been prolonged, they told me I was going to start 2 weeks ago. The day is soon approaching where I shall experience the next step of this fantastical process called cancer.

Yesterday I had to go back to the hospital to get re-drawn. Interesting. My head is locked in so tight in a mask, and all I feel is 2 people drawing on me. Here I am giggling because you really need to envision this. They think I am freaking out in the mask...lol...The mask is so tight it sounded like I was gagged. "Relache-toi, Madame Polito." More relaxed than me, they don't get!

So far this part of the deal has been really fun. It is like I am in an art class and we are drawing and sculpting. Melissa shows me around the radio-oncology and then explains my process. Very informative. Very cool. The art department has nothing on the facilities at Maisonneuve. This time they drew the lines alot darker and there are pieces of scotch-tape all over my chest...they claim it won't let the ink run....ummm....ya...ok

This idea of not being able to use soap for my top half freaks me out. SHAQUAT...jeeze louise. The fact that I can't even have a drink while under going treatment. This is some sick joke...lol...I realize more and more that I absolutely hate rules. All I continue to tell myself is that it is almost over. God owes me big...It better be some studly mcstud while I am in Boston, let me tell you!

So I have lines across my neck, chest, sides and other places. I personally think they went a little Sharpie crazy but it's all good. Funny thing though, I have already had a handful of people ask me if I drew these lines myself. Also being that the hospital people used red and black ink...well mixed together the lines look PURPLE. My campaigning strategy is not that strong but I am happy because I realize that even had I drawn them, my friends would have accepted that as another quirky aspect of my character. I love you guys for that!!! Seriously, though, how much time do you think I have on my hands?...Dudes?

PURPLE is the new Pink!

Purple is the color of Lymphoma. Here I am, all decked out. I am pushing this color so much that I think I am going to end up looking like a freaking eggplant. Ironically it has always been one of my fave colors but I totally did not anticipate incorporting it as a standard fixture in my everyday fashion...lol...jeeze louise. PURPLE.

The May event is coming along. It coming up very soon. I worry alot about how it will turn out. It's my nature to have high expectations. Presentation is everything. I was interviewed on Tuesday for the CIAO MONTREAL Television show. I had purple everything. This is what WIGGED OUT is totally about. People need to become more aware. This is my main purpose. PURPLE.

I get alot of the,"Oh, I am really sorry to hear you were sick, but I know alot of people who had it and they live totally normal lives now." Ummm....what? This does not help me. This is not a comfort. This is the problem. Lymphoma Cancer does have a good survival rate, assuming you are strong enough to handle the cancer and that you do not have any other complications, but it is a cancer like any other. I am not sure that tagging it as the best cancer to have is a good thing because it only makes people who don't have it brush it off like a bad cold. PURPLE.

I find it easy for some people to talk. Sometimes not saying anything is a better solution. I constantly get "condolences"....lol...Dude! I am not dead...lol..I just have cancer. As a 27 year old girl being diagnosed with cancer, I was confronted with having to do things I never thought I would have to do. I overcame it. It is still a constant battle. PURPLE.

ALL I can say is that come to my event on May 25th. It is going to be great. I need bodies, get your friends, make a table, do whatever you can to come. It is all about Lymphoma, it is all about PURPLE. Help fight Lymphoma Cancer and don't brush it off. Wear PURPLE to support. Please contact me at elisabetta@wiggedoutinpurple.org for info. As well if any of you know anyone who would like to be a sponsor. Everything and anything would be a great help and totally appreciated.

PURPLE. PURPLE. PURPLE. PURPLE. PURPLE. PURPLE.

I am not a statistic - I am Lisa Polito!

Last night I volunteered with my friend Rosanna for a Lymphoma Conference held at the Hope & Cope Wellness Center. I was hoping to connect with other patients my age but everyone who did attend was over 40 yrs old. Its all good. I saw their faces. They looked like they needed answers. I could have told that someone close to them was affected by this cancer.

I sat in to hear what Dr. Olney had to say. His powerpoint presentation gave detailed information, slide after slide, and all I saw was the past 8 months of my life being clicked on. Lymphoma Cancer is either Non-Hodgkin's or Hodgkin's Disease. 85% of Lymphoma's are Non wheras mine, Hodgkin's, makes up 15%. The best cancer to have, is what my doctor told me when I was diagnosed. Like I was getting a great deal at the market.

Dr. Olney said,"We don't treat statistics, we treat individual patients." I remained. When people found out I was sick, they were throwing survival stats, at me, left and right. I didn't want to know about it. I personally didn't care that Koivu and Lemieux survived it. I was not ready to hear other people's stories. I wanted to live my experience within my own psychology and hope for the best. It was not comforting to me to know that someone else went through what I was about to go through. My friends didn't get it. In my head my foundation of support had to start within my own inner whatever. If I fell, the walls around me would have fallen.

After the conference I went to see Rosanna in the kitchen and I broke down. I saw my fears in the faces of the attendees. A wave of confusion. Rosanna consoled me by saying, "I hope you realize how proud you should be for your effort towards all this." I couldn't answer. I am totally not doing this for recognition. My place within society is not to become popular because of this cancer but solely to do something to give back. Yes, I have been dealt a better hand than most, but does someone have to die before realizing that it's time to do something about it.

A very sweet lady asked Rosanna if she had been a patient because her grand-daughter, 31, was just recently diagosed and was looking for someone to talk to within her own age group about dealing with this cancer. Rosanna pointed to me and told the lady that I would have been the person to talk to. I saw the lady's face and wanted to hug her. I saw her worries. I extended the offer to speak to her grand-daughter if she wanted someone to talk to. I told the lady that her grand-daughter needed to be ready to talk to someone. She asked me if I was on Facebook and I couldn't help but laugh. Too cute. I gave all my info and now I wait for her to contact me.

Am I being a hippocrite? Perhaps. We all have our different ways of coping. Some people do Yoga, some talk to others and some like me become enveloped in, "I am just not ready yet." I constantly confuse myself with my own justifications. I think this is where the gemini in me comes into play. I always said, when I was ready I would talk to someone, and only recently have I spoken to other patients around the world. I can not place enough importance on this feeling of being "ready". It might not make sense, but I feel you can only absorb information when you allow yourself to take it in. You might have so many questions but there are not enough answers.

I, as a Lymphoma patient can not provide comfort to others by saying everything will be fine. We all take our own personal problems differently. I can tell my story. Whoever is interested in reading it, or hearing it - great! I am still Lisa, though, cancer or no cancer. This is the only thing I can stress. Cancer does not justify you. It does not change who you are. That fire in your belly should be an incentive to tell it to F*%K OFF!!! I am here if you are ready.

I am ready. I am not a statistic - I am Lisa Polito! That is all that counts.

To Rocker Fingers

It's 5:07a.m.. I have been up for the past 54 min. Can't sleep. Story of my life. I have been reading emails that supporters graciously send me and I am really awe-struck.

My friend Patty T. sent me this quote, which as simple as it may seem at first glance, after having repeated it, makes you realize the beauty in its simplicity. It is true.

"Do all you can with what you have in the time you have in the place you are." -Nkosi Johnson

If I can do something that people will remember and want to be a part of, I feel I have accomplished my goal. I went into this saying that my fundraising goal was $10 000.00 for both events. I was happy with that incentive, and without me realizing just the one event, in May, might cultivate more than that. Fantastical. To some that might not be much, but I think it's huge.

After having another great dinner at "TOYO" on Friday (seriously guys you need to check this resto...its amazing), my friend Katy looked at my nailpolish and was like, "Li, why do you have 2 different shades on your hand?" She was referring to the fact that my index and pinky fingers were a darker shade of purple, whereas the other fingers a lighter one. I said, "Well those are my rocker fingers."

Some say that I have overcome all this in strength and with my "no bullshit attitude". I was always like that, though. It just took cancer for some people to realize it as a good quality...lol..(i.e. my parents, nonna and nonno...jeeze louise) I have always "rocked" my life, my way and I often say that I Am a rocker for life. Whatever that actually means to people...boh! But it means alot to me. I remember nights at Cafe Campus with friends, t-shirt and jeans with flip-flops, rocking to the oldies and dancing like a bunch of hippies. I remember "Sunday Bloody Sunday" coming on and those rocker fingers went up and just represented so much. Checking out bands and its just a salute to a great song, or person. A term of agreement if you will. Nay or Yay...no just ROCKER FINGERS....lol. God I am so wierd...I am starting to get it now...lol

I guess I see it as a way of thinking, a state of mind. It makes me think of many happy moments with those I have cared about throughout the years. When you fall ill, you have alot of time to think about things. Replay different scenarios...the "what ifs" of the past emerge. You are tempted to rekindle ties that were cut or perhaps cut the ties that bind. I have always believed you must stand by your convictions. I have tried. We all play the hippocrite card. I am far from perfection, but at the same time I can say that I have little or no regrets. Whether certain decisions hurt you or not, you just need to let it ride. Everything has its time and happens for a reason. Sometimes very inexplainable reasons but I am sure someone will explain it to me in the afterlife...lol. Rock it your way. Play it your way. Be happy and cherish.

"Do all you can with what you have in the time you have in the place you are." -Nkosi Johnson

Oh Patty, why are all the women in your family so smart?...lol..Great quote, thank you.

So the next time you hear a great song and it triggers a fantastical memory or even a not so great one, rocker fingers! What hasn't killed you can only make you stronger, right? Or my nonna used to say something about snow and mountains...boh!...lol

A rant without coffee...

This morning had my first appointment towards this process called "Radiation Therapy". I have been having a bad couple of days lately. Cranky as hell. Even Sweet Tarts have lost their fantastical impact on my candy cravings. That is when I know I need chill time.

Get to the radio-oncology department and I was greeted by this really cool radiation therapist, Melissa. She explained to me that today they were making a mask, which means a mold of my head. How totally cool is that? I was actually excited. She's explaining it to me...first a neck mold to hold my neck in place and then a plastic mesh over my face to lock down the position so I won't move - I was fascinated! It was like those sado-mach masks but made out of plastic. Can't move. Just enough to breathe...lol...I was loving it. The other radiation therapist must have thought I was retarded for sure.

Tomorrow I have to go in so they can start drawing the lines from my chest to my neck. This sucks. "Umm, can we draw them another day because I have a television interview tomorrow?" They replied,"Wear a scarf."...lol....They mean business....this is what I mean by karma people. Throw me a friggin' bone plz! Jeeze Louise...lol..Its selfish, I know, but hey maybe people will then take me seriously if they see me on televsion with all these drawn lines on my neck.

To be honest I think this is what has been frustrating me lately. I realize many people are not taking me seriously. I'll tell you why...I don't look sick and I don't act it. I haven't at all during this whole process. No sunk-in cheeks, no weight-loss (if anything I gained...sucks ass!), no nothing! I still party and drink it up with my friends. What? I have seen people shrug my cancer off like it was a bad cold. Are you people on drugs? You would think being ill and having to go through all this would have made me a more patient individual. Instead it has rendered me intolerable of stupidity.

I have never asked for pity. My pride won't stand for it. Anyone who knows me, knows that all too well. I just get the feeling that people expected to see me crouch into a corner and slowly die within my own self-pity. You have another thing coming to you if you think that. I can not stand the insincerity of certain individual's, and fundraising or no fundraising...their money is no good to me. The purpose of giving is something that of the heart. It needs to be given because you have been touched by a story, whether it be mine or someone else's. I can look myself in the mirror and be proud knowing that I am doing something out of the goodness of being. I know those who have supported me. Every night I feel blessed by knowing they are there. I had cancer. I fought it my way. My rules are the only rules that reign, in my life, because I know how to live my way. Accepting is the first step in knowing. I won't apologize for not looking like a "cancer" patient or milking the fact that I was one.

I need a coffee real bad...jeeze louise...Aunt Joanne, are we going to have a session???...lol

I AM A PISTACHIO!!!

So its settled. The event is scheduled for May 25th. I am a little nervous because idealistically I want a fantastical turn-out. I absolutely hope it will be a success.

I can't sleep at night. I wake up really early. Pump myself with coffee and throw myself in front of my I-Mac, researching and doing what I can for the event. I am tired and frustrated, happy and overwhelmed at the same time. It really feels like I am loosing my mind. I seem a little edgy...lol...ya think? And fantastically after this one there is another one in August....lol...I am crazy!

Perhaps being a perfectionist doesn't work in my favor sometimes. I am too visual. I envision the event looking a certain way. I want my guests to be happy. I want people to leave that day feeling good about the experience they just had. Some people consider that alot of pressure. I consider it the fire under my ass to do something great!

Thinking....I need the KARMA gods to bestow good health upon me. I am truly scared. It's like now i'll have a little cough and my parents run to me in extreme fear. I want to be me again. I miss my old skin. I went to try on a purple wig the other day and cried in the store. Why do I miss my hair so much? I just need one break. I sound like I am complaining, right? I've got my health, my sanity...well that's questionable...lol...I just want peace. I want to sleep one night and wake up to have known this was all a dream. I am not trying to make my situation a dramatic one. It would indeed be an amazing script for a play.

Reality....Every morning I wake up...this morning I had tea instead. I am writing this post now and I already scrapped it out with my sister...Things are getting back to normal again. My hair spikes up like Alfalfa, but don't worry - guys still dig it! I notice a cobweb in the corner of my window and know that it was not there the other day. It makes me realize its signification of how time passes and how we build up who we are to people. What we stand for. Who we love.

I love myself too much to be represented badly. To have let go of everything I stood for or flush away my aspirations because I was sick. NEVER! To play the victim card. NEVER! Like I tell my mom when she says, "Lisa, you are nuts!" I say,"Ma, I'm a pistachio!"

Its the nut that...
- only certain people can appreciate.
- is hard to open but once you have it, what a fantastical treat!
- has just enough of salty goodness that it makes you want it more and more.
- when you look at your fingers, you realized your pleasurable eating experience has left a mark.

I guess for those people with nut allergies, this wouldn't make sense...lol...but you can at least appreciate the visual.

Getting Back into the Knack of things...

Today for the first time I felt alot like myself. How I used to be. I often make reference to "before being slightly defective" and "afterwards". I feel right. I feel things are shaping into new forms. I am getting pumped. Maybe this is the little adrenaline I had from 5 cups of coffee..but hey! I shall take what I can get at this point.

I was working on the ticket and card designs for the event today. I really did not realize the amount of work that goes into organizing an event. Ahh well...finish what you start, right? Found out that I am going to be interviewed next week. How freaking retarded is that? lol...apparently im an inspiration....very debatable! So my biggest thing was...typically...what am I going to wear?

I started trying on all the purple clothes I had. Mixing and matching with accessories...what to wear? Jeeze louise. I put on some Janis. Played "Piece of my Heart" really loud. Put on my shades with my purple blazer and was singing off the top of my lungs. I was strutting in front of my mirror like the diva that I am. I was in my element...lol...I missed it so much and hadn't realized it. C'mon we all do it. Thank god I was wearing pants because my mom bursted through the door, yelling at me to turn the volume down and that I was a huge pain in the ass. Things are getting back to normal. Slowly, but surely! lol...life is good.

Sometimes I wonder...

I love driving. It is one of the only activities that calms me down. On nice days, roll the window down with good driving music...you really can't ask for anything more. It just puts me in a zone where my hamster is in overdrive. I am stuck in traffic, looking at the dude next to me picking his nose - very attractive, and then I stop and wonder. Who would I have been if I wasn't me? Would I react to a different love song? Would Backstreet Boys be my band of preference over Aerosmith? What if I was never sick? Who would I be? What would change? Would I be the person who I thrive on not being?

Since I can remember, people told me that I should change. I am crude, honest, and cuss like a sailor, but I am a hard worker, I am a dreamer, and I fight for things I believe in. When I was faced with cancer and those same people saw me deal with my frustrations, the pain, the hospital, the injections, the bloodtests, etc. they turned around and said, "thank god you are the way you are or else you would not have been able to deal with all of this." It scares me to think of who I could have been.

This is what having cancer did to me. It makes me think of all the angles. Like a movie playing in my head, or a series of books, I notice everything, I feel everything, I think of everything. Scenarios play themsleves before me and in some I am the lead role, who fights the battle and wins in the end! The other scenario...well I wonder...Today I am a little sad.

Whoever I could I have been...it is obvious I was not meant to be. I can't change. I won't. Like me or hate me, doesn't make a difference. In the end you have to look at yourself in the mirror. My tumor is gone. I look in the mirror and I cry everyday because no matter how strong I am it pains me to know I had to go through all this, but I did it...

I heard kids on the radio today talking about their chemo treatments and what they are going through. I cried in my car. My driving experience rendered me numb. Window down but no great music. I heard kids talking about cancer. These are great kids. If I could hug them I would. I wonder if they would hug me back. I don't know who they are yet I feel connected to them on so many levels. They are stronger than I am. It is to them I look up to. I just sometimes wonder....

www.wiggedoutinpurple.org

Our INFO page is finally up. How exciting!!! We will be updating it with more news about the events, sponsors, and as well getting the french version. If anyone reading this is on Facebook you can add yourself to my group just by searching - Lisa Polito -.

I received an email yesterday from a friend telling me how much he is loving my campaign. Well thank you love! I never saw what it is that I am doing as a campaign but I find it an interesting notion. I need to give back. This is the only way I know how. I need good KARMA to follow me. I no longer wish to be attached to a machine. I don't want to see my doctor every week, even though I love him to bits. I don't want to see my dinner being flushed. I want to live happily, even in my own misery but not by the constrictions of an unknown.

If a car didn't get me when I was 10, and cancer now at 27, I am assuming my life is meant for something more powerful and hopefully more meaningful. I can honestly say that for 27, I have lived a very rich and fulfilling life and even though one may be confronted with death, at least I would have known that my 27 were not lived in vain.

People, be happy. Life is too short. Don't sweat the small stuff. Live your life by you rules and standards. NEVER SETTLE!

My Committee

I have to say that I am quite overwhelmed. My friends have come together in ways that I never thought would be manageable or possible. 8 fantastic people who are donating their time to try and raise money for lyphoma. 8 girls from different walks of life, different characters, different opinions...sometimes you can cut the tension with a knife, but they are still doing it, and its all for me.

This post is really to thank them. Thanking them for being the supportive friends that they have been. Thanking them for putting aside other things happening in their lives to help out my cause. I realized that I can't do things alone, and for someone like me who generally does things alone, it is a big step in knowing that I have great people by my side. Thank you Vicki, Vanessa, Vanda, Rosanna, Charlene, Sabrina and Claudia! Thank you for everything!

With friends like you...who needs...hmmm I wonder...lol! I am not a religious person but I hope that for everything you guys are doing, that KARMA treats you well. Your hearts are all in the right place and that should truly be acknowledged! I love you all.

To the CRAZIES I call my committee...let's rock it the only way we know how!