Johnny Moore wants this to be the best basketball game of his life. It is the last game of his senior year. He is nervous and excited. He tries to focus on playing well as his friends and family watch from the over-crowded bleachers. As the game progresses, Moore feels himself becoming unusually fatigued and shaky. He usually averages 20 points per game. But by the end of the fourth quarter, he has only made five. Red-faced and lethargic, he slumps toward his family. He expects his father to be disappointed and angry, but instead his father asks with concern if he is feeling alright. They have a sinking feeling the lump on the left side of Moore’s neck that has been bothering him has something to do with it. After a physical and a cat-scan, the doctor tells Moore and his family he has cancer.

“It knocked the wind out of me,” Moore recalls. “You hear cancer, you hear death.”

As a healthy, athletic 17-year-old, the diagnosis of Hodgkin’s disease, a cancer that develops in the lymphatic system, part of the immune system, was a huge shock. This type of cancer typically occurs in early adulthood.

“You never think it will happen to you,” says Moore. But cancer in general seems to be affecting more and more people. A 2005 report from the National Cancer Institute noted nine major cancers on the rise. Subsequently, the physical and emotional road of recovery is one that more people are traveling.

Being a teenager is tough. Cancer is tougher. But combining the two could leave one more than a little overwhelmed. Teenagers already deal with a wide range of emotions as is, but cancer brings on an entire set of its own.

Child Life, part of the California National Medical Center in San Francisco, is one of the numerous organizations that work specifically with young people dealing with cancer. From infancy to patients as old as 21, the Child Life Teen Group offers medical and emotional treatment for both inpatients, who stay at the hospital, and outpatients, who come in periodically. The people who work at Child Life have a background in psychology and child development. They give not only medical treatment, but are there to talk about the emotional effects of cancer.

“We try to normalize the environment,” says Nelle Pinchak of Child Life. “There is a place where the kids can play pool, video games, and even have their friends over to visit and hang out.”

The most difficult time for many is diagnosis. The initial shock can be hard to handle, and is different for everyone. John Moore, Johnny’s father, went into a state of utter disbelief when he was told his son had Hodgkin’s disease two years ago.

“I thought ‘you’re wrong, we have to get a second opinion,’” John recalls. “I mean, how can a 17-year-old kid, who doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, get cancer? But it’s hard to deny what the doctor showed and told me. I had to believe it.”

Though people may assume that Hodgkin’s disease is genetic, or caused by environmental factors, it seems that it’s just plain bad luck.

“We don’t know what causes Hodgkin’s disease,”says Rebecca Allen, who works in an oncology center and helps patients with chemotherapy treatment.

After his son was diagnosed, John took about two weeks off work to get things organized and for Johnny’s chemotherapy treatments.

“Some want facts,” says Pinchak. “They want to know how many times they will have treatment, the statistics, etc. And some won’t be able to talk for three weeks.”

Though Hodgkin’s disease has a fairly high recovery rate, the fact that Moore had a life-threatening illness was not glazed over. Out of 7,350 new Hodgkin’s cases reported in 2005, 1,410 are expected to die from the disease. The doctors reassured Moore, but didn’t make any promises that he would be fine or cured.

“I didn’t really know (of Hodgkin’s high success rate) until about a month after (diagnosis),” recalls Moore, now 19. “There were times when I would just be in my room and start crying.”

And Pinchak says that is okay.

“This is a really tough time,” says Pinchak. “It’s okay to cry, to be scared. If ever there’s a time, this is it.”

Along with the fear of being diagnosed with a life-threatening illness come the inevitable thoughts of what’s being missed: friends, parties, time with family and social events. The teenage years are supposed to be some of the most exciting years of life. It is a time to be carefree and not worry about anything too serious, especially not chemotherapy.

The three months of chemotherapy Moore went through were concurrent with prom, his senior trip and ended just a day before graduation.

“Prom wasn’t something I needed to do,” says Moore. “My girlfriend at the time and I went to dinner and a movie… I just didn’t really want to do anything.”

Moore did not look like your typical cancer patient. Though he did lose his hair, he didn’t lose any weight. He actually gained almost 15 pounds because he accidentally took his prescription pills everyday, when he was only supposed to take them three times a week.

“They just made me really hungry and I would eat and eat,” Moore recalls, laughing.

Moore remembers the beginning of his treatment. It was three times a week, every three weeks, for three months. The first few days were full of hours in the hospital hooked up to IV’s, vomiting, and sleeping. After a three week break, he went back for more. He was absent for the majority of his final high school days. Friends and peers sent large cards filled with scribbles of “Miss you” and “Get well soon,” but Moore inevitably missed many of those thrilling last days of high school celebrating the end of finals and freedom.

“There is a side of it where you do have to grow up faster,” says Pinchak. “You miss out on that care-freeness.”

Moore never saw a professional to talk about the emotional side of cancer or the disappointment of missing out on these sacred moments of senior year. He remembers times within the first few days after diagnosis when he would just burst out crying. The chemotherapy treatments and fear they wouldn’t work was sometimes too much to handle. But for the most part Moore stayed positive, and his emotional support came from the people around him.

Moore’s father, John, was without question the rock in the family. However, there were times when he cried, and was scared he would have to watch cancer take away his son the way it took away his father.

“My father went from a 210-pound man to about 140-pound man,” recalls John. “I watched that. It really shook my world. There were times when there were tears.”

But not in front of anyone. From the outside, he made sure it looked like there “were no worries,” John says.

“I told anyone who comes into my house, ‘I don’t want to see no tears, no crying, just complete support for my son,’” John says.

Moore’s younger brother Sean, 16, a mini-me version of his older brother, was immediately terrified.

“My first thought was if he’s going to die,” recalls Sean. “He means so much to me, it scared me a lot. I look up to him.”

Though faced with an illness that might have taken his life, Moore never let it get the best of him. With strong family relationships, an entire school to support him, and God in his prayers, Moore kept his head up.

“I prayed it would be cured,” says Moore. “I believed it was gone before it really was because I believed God cured me.”

Moore has been in remission for two years and goes for check-ups every three months. During this time they check to make sure the cancer isn’t coming back. After five years in remission, he can officially say he’s cured. There are side effects that remind him of cancer and how ill he frequently felt. Pizza, apple juice, and graham crackers were foods he ate during chemotherapy. Just thinking about them makes his mouth water, something that happens right before he throws up. Things other than foods involved in chemotherapy make him nauseous too.

“Anytime I go into any hospital,” Moore says, “my mouth waters.”