February 23

Yo, yo, yo, friends!

I'm feeling a lot better about life than I did in my last post, so that's pretty dang awesome! Yesterday was rough. I took the day off of work because #1 I was just plum tuckered out (that's old folk speak for freaking exhausted) and #2 my mouth hurt like none other. I was nauseous too, but nausea doesn't really affect my ability to teach so it didn't factor into my decision to stay home.

What the MOUTH PAIN?!? Okay this is not my favorite thing! It started Sunday, got worse through Monday, and then got really bad Monday night and throughout Tuesday. It's like when you burn your tongue really bad on hot cocoa (or coffee for my caffeine-loving friends), and that spot hurts like crazy for a few seconds and then it just kind of stings. Only this is like you are constantly pouring that burning beverage onto your tongue and swishing it around so the rest of your mouth gets to enjoy it as well. No bueno.

My doctor gave me a recommendation for a specific mouthwash that works wonders. Seriously, it's like the only thing that helped yesterday, other than the half gallon of milk I drank. I might have cancer, but dang my bones will be strong! The mouthwash and the mouth spray are my favorite things right now. I don't know if they just work really well or if the actual pain is going away as I go longer after my treatment, but I'm not complaining.

My mouth still hurts today, but it's not as bad, so I came to school! I love being in my classroom. My students are legitimately the greatest. Even if they do ask things like, "Can we shave your head in class?!? It's be the best!" I learned that smiling hurts my sore mouth, which is the worst, but I still smile anyway because when a seventh grader says something ridiculous or an eighth grader asks to come to your birthday party, you just can't help it.

And sometimes your students who you didn't think were listening come up to you and ask, "Ms. Moore, how do I strengthen my rebuttal with facts to refute the counterargument," and that makes your whole day.

Chemo #1: For better or worse.

So I've successfully made it to my third post-chemo day! Woot woot! Honestly it's been really odd and I'm having a hard time explaining how it feels to people, but I want this blog to be something I can look back on and use to remember what happened, so I'm going to try my best.

Saturday morning I was in a steroid-induced frenzy of energy, but I knew that I was tired. If that even makes sense. I made six different kinds of cupcakes and graded papers and talked to my parents who had come up for the morning. Michelle really enjoyed my extra energy. By about one in the afternoon, all I wanted to do was sleep because my body was exhausted. The stupid steroids should've worn off by then, but they were still keeping me wide awake no matter how much I tried to rest. I got more and more frustrated as the day went on. If you know me, you know I really value my sleep time. Bed time is the best time!

Michelle went to our stake conference Saturday night, and she called one of our great bishopric members to come give me a blessing so I could sleep. Brother Barton and our Elder's Quorum President came over even though it was late and gave me a blessing of peace, comfort, and healing. It helped me out a lot. With the blessing and some medicine, I finally got to sleep late Saturday night. I slept pretty soundly until early Sunday afternoon.

Sunday afternoon, we drove down to Provo, where I mostly ended up sleeping some more. I noticed Sunday that my nausea wasn't as bad as Saturday, but that my taste is changing. Things that usually taste good make me sick just thinking about them, so who knows what I will even eat. Last night I didn't even need medicine to help me sleep because I was just straight up exhausted!

Waking up this morning was rough. My body is just realllllly tired. I got up, took a shower, and then sat down for a minute because I was tired from taking a shower. I took a stool from my living room and sat on it to do my hair. My arms were tired. I would've just stayed home today, but midterm grades are due by midnight and my students had things they needed to turn in before I finalized grades. I might end up taking the day off tomorrow to sleep and recover a little since my schedule was so thrown off by those dang steroids.

Overall, the chemo effects have been better and worse than I expected. I don't feel sick, necessarily, just zapped of energy. My tastes are changing, I have dry mouth, and my tongue hurts - almost like a burning sensation. Standing up for too long makes me nauseous, and thinking about different kinds of foods makes me feel sick as well. I just have to be careful what I think about, I guess! I'm drinking lots of Sprite. :)

Oh and for those of you who were just dying to find out what kind of shake I had after chemo... classic chocolate won!

Comin at ya live from 4 am!

Did you know that the world is super quiet at 4 am and the sound of typing might as well be thunder for how loud it seems? Well now you know. And so do I. #thankschemo

Yesterday was rockin! I woke up feeling super excited about going to chemo, which is weird. I was just so excited to finally get started and get rid of this thing! I went to school, and it was the last day of our spirit week, so we had an assembly. I made my lip-syncing debut in front of 1,000 middle schoolers, so that was a big moment in my life... Not saying it was a super proud moment, but it sure was a moment.

This is my "I'm so excited to dance in front of the middle school and also to get chemo" face.

After school I rushed home so Michelle could put numbing cream over my port/incision so that when they put the needle in the port it wouldn't hurt as much. We were worried the cream wouldn't soak through the glue that's holding my incision together.

I headed to chemo like a champ and I went back alone this time. I chose my seat/cubicle and the nurses were super nice and so fun to be around. I had a much better attitude about everything yesterday, and I think that really helped me get along with the staff. It was a 100% difference from my experience last week and I'm so grateful. My port was hooked up to an IV needle and I was so scared for how much it would hurt! Spoiler alert: It didn't even hurt at all! Getting hooked up through the port was sooo much more comfortable than having an IV placed. Modern medicine for the win!

First, I was given a steroid (not that kind of steroid - sorry, no future Tour de France winner here) and an anti-nausea medication that made my eyes dry. It's so weird how different parts of our body are connected. Maybe to someone who studied anatomy instead of poetry it would make sense that when something is injected through an IV, you can suddenly taste it, but to a poor English major like myself, it's like something straight out of Harry Potter. #magic

I was then given my 4 chemo drugs: ABVD. I would tell you what they all stand for, but I can only remember Bleomycin (and I only remember that one because it's what I named my stuffed leopard from my neighbors).

Meet Bleo. Who could resist those eyes?!?

I felt fine getting the chemo; I was just tired and my body felt kind of heavy, like I was moving slower than usual and doing things took a little more effort. Overall, I was at the treatment center a little over 2 hours. Mom and I stopped at Iceberg for shakes on the way home - a trick that my school PTSA President passed on from her time doing chemo. It's actually supposed to help with nausea! Ice cream for the win!

Last night, I felt fine, just tired and slightly nauseous. It was a little odd because everyone told me I would be wired due to the steroid and wouldn't sleep. I went to sleep fine, thinking to myself, "wow, steroids don't even affect me!" Seeing as how this post is being written at 4 in the AM, apparently they do affect me. Just a little. ;)

We will see how today and tomorrow go, but I'm feeling good about thing so far. Also, GREAT NEWS! My bone marrow biopsy came back and it's perfect! This is HUGE happy news! It means that the lymphoma hasn't spread to my bone marrow and is still stage 3. I'm extremely grateful and I feel really blessed. Add that to the list of sentences I never thought I'd say: I'm feeling blessed to have stage 3 lymphoma.

Another bright note: my first chemo hats came in the mail! They shipped to my parent's house. Here's hoping I pull them off as well as dad!

Status Update

Hello, world!
Here's the 411 on this week so far. Yesterday morning, I went up to LDS Hospital and had a port inserted. (I'm pretty clever and if you click on the word port in the previous sentence, it shows you exactly what port I now have as my bosom buddy.)

The port placing procedure (extra points for alliteration) went well. They had to put the IV in my hand, which is not ideal because it hurts more there, but it cemented the idea that this port might be a good thing! Everything was really chill, except they used bright blue soap all over my neck and chest that doesn't want to come off of my skin. I can't decide if I look more like I got in a bar fight or I cuddled a smurf, but either way, I'm pretty sure all the men find it super attractive.

Yesterday I slept most of the day while mom (AKA an angel) did all my laundry and cleaned the house. Score! Sleeping last night was a little rough. The port was bothering my skin and I think my insides were having a difficult time accepting their new neighbor, because oh boy I was sore. This morning I was sore, but it wasn't terrible.

I went to school today and had an easy day - just library time, reading, and an easy assignment. I don't have a prep or blank period in my schedule, so I teach all 5 periods every day, and I was super tired by the end of the day! I had told Michelle to come pick me up at 4, but I called her at 3 and made her come early because I just wanted to take a nap. Naps are my favorite thing.

Seventh graders aren't the most tactful people in the whole world, and one of them came up behind me today and said, "Oh! It IS your own hair still!" ...Thank you, tiny child, now walk away before you fail my class. He's an awkward child in general, so I let it slide. Let's hope he gets better at this whole social relations thing before he starts dating.

I start chemo on Friday, and I'm ready to go! I'm just deciding which flavor of Iceberg shake to get after my treatment. Strawberry or Lemon Custard??? Stay tuned to find out. Try not to let the suspense kill you.

A Conversation with God.

Okay, so sometimes everyone in the whole world tells you, "You're handling this so well," and you have to fight the urge to kick them in the shins and when they don't give up and die, say, "You're handling this so well!" Sometimes, you make a joke and everyone looks at you like you're going to break into a million pieces, and you want to scream at them, "I'M STILL ME!" Sometimes, you do research on the internet and stalk people's blogs that have been through 6 months of ABVD chemo, and your eyes get wide as you realize just how not ideal this is going to be. Sometimes, you spend your day looking at wigs and hats and scarves and you can't bring yourself to buy any of them because you just want your real hair to stay forever.

...That's when you realize that there's a tiny chance you're not actually handling it that well. What do you do when you can't deal with this psycho ferris wheel of emotions on your own?  Turn to the big man upstairs, of course. (Spoiler alert: That's God.)

I was supposed to go to a super fun game night tonight with the greatest group of people, but instead I stayed home to have some serious spiritual chat time. I've had a lot of people ask me to pray for them in the past because "they could tell God and I were tight" or something to that effect. I think it's because I talk to Him almost like I do anyone else. Meaning: I don't sugarcoat things.

This is how the conversation started:
ME: Okay, God. You gave me cancer. Worst gift ever. You can make up for it on my birthday. Now what the heck am I supposed to do about it?

I cried for a while as I prayed and bemoaned everything I'm losing or might lose because of this cancer. It's kind of a long list, folks. Hair, energy, my ability to do my job, money, independence, a year of my life, my chance of having children, clear thoughts...it just keeps going. I know, I know, focus on the positive. That's what I do 96% of the time. But when you're chatting with the Big Guy, you gotta keep it real. He can't help you with your problems if you don't open up about them.

Now, because I know my primary answers, I opened my scriptures. In church yesterday, a guy said that the scriptures don't work like a magic 8 ball. Agree to disagree. I'm a firm believer in the scriptures showing us what we need to know when we need to know it. *Note: Also read the scriptures every day. Also you don't have to shake them like you do a magic 8 ball. That is not, in fact, how they work.*

I flipped through them and found a few things that soothed my soul a little.

"Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation." -D&C 58:3

Interpretation by Tina: My stupid, human eyes don't understand why this cancer is a thing. Instead of trying to figure out why this is happening, I need to focus on what God's purpose is through this, and how it will help me become a better person.

"And on the morrow they fought again" -Ether 15 / ALL the war chapters in The Book of Mormon

Interpretation by Tina: I've always loved these sections because the people in these chapters are fighting difficult battles every. single. day. They don't get a break. They don't get to call a timeout because they need to figure out a strategy for the next day. They don't have sick days or weekends to recover. They just keep going. They wake up every morning and go to work, fighting for what they believe (however correct or incorrect those beliefs). Every day is going to be a literal fight against what's going on inside of me, and there won't be any breaks or timeouts or foul calls because cancer pulled a cheap shot. It's just going to be hard. But I will get up every morning and fight.

"Behold, I am from above, and my power lieth beneath. I am over all, and in all, and through all, and search all things, and the day cometh that all things shall be subject unto me." -D&C 63:59

Interpretation by Tina: The Lord's power is literally everywhere. He knows every single thing and is interwoven with all the events of my life. Did you catch the end? All things shall be subject unto me. ALL THINGS. That includes stupid cancer. You hear that, nodular sclerosis classical Hodgkin's lymphoma? You ain't got nothing compared to who's on my side.


I had a lot of moments tonight that reminded me of God's love and his neverending patience with me as I try to figure out what's going on around me/within me. I've put a few of them up here, but many of them are things I want to keep close to my heart as I face the hard days ahead. I finally feel like I'm in a really good place. I know this is going to be insanely hard. I get that. I'm not wearing my rose colored glasses and pretending everything's fine, because it isn't! There's nothing fine about having stage 3 or stage 4 cancer or losing your hair on your birthday. But guess what. I'm okay! Life is beautiful and good and no matter how many hard things are thrown my way, I'm going to come out of it just fine. Know why? Because I'm not counting on my own strength. I'm counting on the strength of the most powerful being in the whole universe. He's my Father, He's my hope, and He's my God. My faith is STRONGER than cancer. Sure, cancer can take away a lot of the things I've worked for in my life. Joke's on you, lymphoma, because you can't take away my faith, my hope, my strength, or my smile, because those things don't come from me. They come from Him.

"And God did hear our cries and did answer our prayers; and we did go forth in his might." -Mosiah 9:18

NO Chemo!...Today.

I was supposed to have my first chemo treatment today. And oh boy was I ready! I even cleaned up my whole house so that everything was clean when I was feeling pukey. I packed up my bag full of all the chemo essentials (according to the internet blogs I stalk), and we went to the clinic. I was gonna kick that treatment's trash!

From the moment we got there, things didn't go like we planned. The nurses weren't acting like they should've been, there was miscommunication all over the place, nobody was telling me what was happening, and I was frustrated beyond belief. They told me I couldn't get chemo today because I didn't have a port and the drugs I was getting couldn't be inserted through an IV. From the nurses, who were not professional at all, I found out I was looking at 6 months of chemo instead of the 3 I had been expecting, which means my cancer is more advanced than I had been told, so I started freaking out. They told me I had to get a port placed. A port is a catheter they surgically insert in your chest so that they don't have to start an IV every treatment. I had been told previously that I didn't need a port, so I was confused at the different information I was receiving. I was told that I would have to miss school Tuesday and Wednesday - Tuesday to get the port and Wednesday to get my first treatment - and then I would be sick Thursday and Friday. I can't afford to miss a whole week of school, so I got even more freaked out. I told them I wanted to talk to the doctor, because there was obvious oversight and conflicting information on their part - and as this is a situation that literally affects my entire life, I should have been informed about what was going on from the start. A lot happened, but that's the gist.

I ended up talking to the nurse practitioner. Here's the deal. I'm a very positive person and I don't even remember the last time I got really mad about something, but I was MAD. When I get mad, I have no problem telling people exactly what I think and exactly what they have done wrong. I yelled/talked to the nurse practitioner for a long time and told her that it was 100% not okay that the nurses acted the way they did, that I wasn't informed about a change in my treatment, that I would be missing more work because of an error on their part, and that I found out my cancer is more advanced because a gossipy nurse couldn't keep her mouth shut. I yelled a lot. I think I almost made the nurse practitioner cry, and whenever someone said sorry, I just said "good. You should be." These are the people I am trusting with my life, and they did not make a good impression on me at all today.

We got everything figured out, though in the nurse practitioner's words, it is definitely not ideal. (No shiz, Sherlock.) I will have a port implanted on Tuesday and start my chemotherapy Friday (a week from today). My doctor called me tonight and was very apologetic and explained that he knew he had made huge mistakes in how this was handled. I really appreciated the phone call, but I'm still not happy. My cancer is for sure stage 3, maybe stage 4. We will know if it is stage 4 once we get the results of the bone marrow biopsy, which should be the middle of next week. The staging doesn't change the treatment I'm receiving, it just lengthens the cycles - thus, 6 months of chemo. He also told me that I have a tumor in my chest that is about 10 cm, which is big and puts me on the border of having "bulky disease" which ensures the need for radiation after chemo.

All in all, it was an awful day and I'm just glad it's almost over. The one bright spot is I bought a fish. I wanted a puppy but Michelle said no. (Not even cancer will convince her!) I named him Chemo and he's adorable. I figure this way, my brain can have some kind of positive relationship with the idea of Chemo.

What is Cancer Like?

One of my oh-so-cute-and-innocent-to-the-point-they-sometimes-remind-me-of-muppets seventh graders asked me today, "What is cancer like?" I gave him some innocent answer that would make a lovely line in a musical, but it started the wheels in my head a-turnin. What is cancer like? I bet it's different for everyone, but here's 15 lovely examples of what cancer is like so far for me.

1. Cancer is constantly touching your hair because it has an expiration date sooner than the cereal you just bought.

2. Cancer is constantly waiting for appointments. And more appointments. And more appointments.

3. Cancer is wondering if everyone else in the waiting room is as lost as you feel.

4. Cancer is skipping over sad songs because you just can't deal.

5. Cancer is online shopping for chemo hats on Friday night.

6. Cancer is figuring out what your legacy would be. At 23.

7. Cancer is hugging people just because.

8. Cancer is crying in the grocery store.

9. Cancer is taking selfies of every hairstyle so you remember the hair you love.

10. Cancer is having your name repeated in the church announcements.

11. Cancer is realizing just how separate your mind and body can be.

12. Cancer is crying in the car. And at church. And at school.

13. Cancer is listening to old country music that reminds you of those long summer afternoons growing up.

14. Cancer is reassuring your seventh graders that lymphoma is not, in fact, contagious.

15. Cancer is smiling at others more because "what if they just found out they have cancer?"

Once upon a time...

I don't even know where to start.

I could start by telling you that everything's going to be fine, because that seems like all I say to people these days.
I could start by telling you about the lumps in my neck that "were nothing."
I could start by telling you how it's easier for me to say "I have been diagnosed with lymphoma" than it is for me to say "I have cancer" and I don't know why.
I could start by telling you that I legitimately might hit the next person who tells me "It's just hair, it will grow back."
I could start by telling you how unbelievably hard it is to look into the faces of your 7th and 8th graders and explain why they will have a lot of substitutes for a while.
I could start by telling you that I'm 23 years old and way too young to be dealing with cancer.
I could start by telling you I really didn't want to write a blog, but here I am.

I guess I'll just start at the beginning.

About 7 months ago, I found a lump in my neck and felt sick. I went to the doctor, they found out I had recently had a severe case of mono - I had no idea - and they told me the lump was just a remaining symptom. It would go away.

Except it didn't go away. Not only did it not get better, it invited friends to the party. Fast forward to December and I probably had 10 not so tiny swollen lumps in my neck. I went to an ear, nose, throat specialist at the beginning of January. He was wonderful, but he let me know early on that this could easily be something serious. (Spoiler alert #1: he was right.) He gave me medicine to take, and when that didn't work, I went in for a CT scan. In a CT scan, they inject you with this dye (which doesn't even make your blood cool colors if you get stabbed; I asked the nurse) and you go through a machine that takes photos of your insides. Gross. Apparently my insides weren't looking too hot, so they ended up doing 3 CT scans instead of just the one they had planned on. They found that the adenopathy - a stupid fancy doctor word for swollen lymphnodes - had spread into my chest, my lungs, and is around my heart.

In the movies, whenever someone finds out they have cancer, it's this touching, life changing moment with their whole family around and a cozy doctor's office where all of their deepest questions are answered. Spoiler alert #2: That's not real life. At all. In real life, you are on your 30 minute lunch break at a middle school and you get a phone call. You walk outside, sit on the freezing bench, and listen to the doctor say, "It's lymphoma." That's it. Then you hear the bell ring, so you hurriedly schedule a surgical biopsy for Thursday, hang up, and walk inside to teach two more classes. There's a reason they don't put that junk in the movies.

I had an excisional biopsy - another fancy doctor term for taking-a-stupid-lump-out-of-my-neck - on Thursday. I'm going to have a beautiful scar. I hear battle wounds are cool these days. Friday I went to work (got to save up my sick days) and again, during my lunch break, got a call. "We have the results, and it's nodular sclerosis classical Hodgkin's lymphoma." This time I got to ask a few questions and found out that the plan was to do chemo and radiation. The stupid bell rang and I went inside. Guardian angels exist - sometimes in the form of my English department head. She took over my crazy class so that I could go sit in the office for a few minutes to process. Yeah right, like that's news I can process in a few minutes, but I got control and went to class. Being around my students is the best thing. I love their little crazy middle school selves.

Yesterday I met with my oncologist. I have an oncologist - things are real. He is pretty fantastic and we agreed that if he didn't expect me to know anything about anatomy, I wouldn't expect him to know anything about grammar, and we got along great after that. I will be having a PET scan, echocardiogram, lung functionality test, and bone marrow biopsy over this next week. Then the real fun starts with my first chemo treatment next Friday.

The chemo I will be doing has a 100% chance of hair loss. Spoiler alert #3: I'm going to be bald. It might mean I have a serious pride problem, but saying I will be bald is almost harder than saying I have cancer. I love my hair. So tonight I'm online shopping for my first chemo hat. I'm going to need lots of hats, and I have a fat head, so this will be an adventure! Here's hoping that my hair grows back curly. And brown.

I really didn't want to write a blog, but over the past week I feel like I've spent all of my time explaining and reassuring other people. "It's fine," "Everything's going to work out," and "I'll be totally okay" have become pretty common in my every day conversations. I've spent so much time talking this through with other people that I haven't had a chance, until now, to really process it myself. Don't think I'm being a brat - I love and appreciate every single text and call and message I've gotten - it's just been overwhelming. Because of that, I decided to write a blog so that everyone can know how I'm doing and I won't be sending out a million updates every day. Also, apparently, keeping a journal about my experiences helps with healing. True fact? I don't know. I tell my students all the time that writing helps, so here's to giving this a try. Spoiler alert #4: I'm a brutally honest person, so don't expect every entry to be sunshine and rainbows coming out of a unicorn's bum.

This is going to be tough. I'm just going to be tougher.