I Cry, Too.

"OMG You're so positive!" 

"You're handling cancer like a champ!"

"You don't even seem like you have cancer!"

"Just always smiling, aren't you?!?"

I think a lot of people are under the impression that cancer has been easy for me and that I'm rocking it. Pshhh and I am 100% rocking it. But that doesn't mean that I'm happy all the time or that cancer is easy for me. It's not easy to smile all the time and keep a positive outlook, it's just who I am so it's what I do. But just for a few minutes, here's a glimpse into the hard, ugly side of my lymphoma so far.

When I was diagnosed, I didn't cry. When I went in for surgery for my biopsy, and then bone marrow biopsy, and then my port, I didn't cry. I didn't know why I wasn't crying all the time even when I wanted to - and then I understood. I needed David. Growing up, when dad was in the hospital and mom was gone visiting him and Joseph and Michelle were away at college, David and I spent a lot of time together. Every big or traumatic event, David's been there for me to cry with and be scared with and then smile with. But he's gone, and South Africa seems a world away. It wasn't just that I missed him. I needed him. When I got to Skype with him the day after he found out I have cancer, I took the tablet into my room so I could talk to him alone. We had a hard time even talking for a little bit because we both just cried...and cried...and cried a little more....and it was the greatest blessing I've experienced so far. I desperately needed those few minutes of letting the weight of what was going on crush me as David and I cried under the fear of what was going on. I didn't just need to cry. I needed to cry with David, and once I got that, I was okay.

For the most part, I'm okay. I just have little moments. Sometimes I just cry on the way to work or the way home from work or the way to the store or at the store or on the way home from the store... It's a problem.

I cry because this is a new reality that I didn't ask for and I didn't want.

I cry because sometimes getting out of bed is really, really, really hard. Like harder than normal. And I love my bed a whole heap, man.

I cry when I reach up to fix my hair in the parking lot and realize it isn't there.

I cry when people at the store stare at me and change their tone of voice when they say things like "aw, how are you doing today, sweetheart?" ...I have cancer. I'm not your sweetheart. Just let me pay for my pickles and bread, mmmmkay?

I cry in frustration when I had a kick-butt lesson planned and have to miss school - and my students end up watching a movie.

I cry in fear when I read articles or blogs about people who are going through lymphoma for their third or fourth or fifth time because I can't even deal with having it once.

I cry when I see hair tutorials on Pinterest and can't try them on myself.

I cry because sometimes I get really, really lonely and feel like no one understands. And then I turn my phone back on and have texts from amazing friends just letting me know they're there. And then I cry because I don't know what I did to deserve these incredible people.

I cry when I think about the fact that I still have 9 treatments left and that they're going to get worse.

I cry in anger when I can't do everything I want to do because I'm sick.

I cry because I miss not worrying about cancer and just worrying about things like finding a spider in the bathroom or running out of clean clothes.

I cry in the mornings when I see the sunshine and realize I can't go play in it. Chemo makes me super sensitive to sunlight and if I get a sunburn, I will pretty much stay sunburned until the end of treatment. Because that's a super fun perk of cancer.

I cry because I miss David and I have to go through the hardest part of my life without my best friend.

I cry when I get cancer emails from my doctor because it reminds me that I have cancer. I know that makes no sense, but I'm a girl, so deal with it.

I cry in gratitude when people do nice things for me.

I cry when I get packages or gifts that are so heartfelt and perfect that I can't even believe it.

I cry when I get encouraging emails from David that quote movies - because he just gets what I need. Even when it's a Newsies quote that involves cuss words. That's right - I make missionaries swear. This is why I have cancer.

I cry when friends call me just because or text me uplifting quotes.

I cry when my students offer to push me around the room on my rolly chair on the days when it hurts to walk.

I cry when I read my scriptures and realize that God has a plan for me and that cancer is just a little part in that plan.

I cry when I accidentally spend two hours watching YouTube videos of soldiers coming home or people serving people or the underdog winning a competition. Seriously, watch THIS VIDEO now. It gets me every. freaking. time. Go. Watch it. I have cancer and I want you to watch it so that means you have to watch it. **Notice the wonderful use of the cancer card right there. Crushed it.**

Anyway, this has been a brief glimpse into the emotional mess that is Tina Moore. I really, truly, 100% am still loving life and dealing with everything like a boss. 96.4% of the time.

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