Follicular lymphoma survivor: Why I participate in UT?MD?Anderson¡¯s Boot Walk to End Cancer?
BY Margie King
April 27, 2026
When I was diagnosed with follicular lymphoma in late 2014, I was pretty matter-of-fact about it. I might¡¯ve been more upset if I¡¯d broken my arm.
Several relatives of mine had already been diagnosed with various types of cancer over the years. So, I was no stranger to that disease. It just wasn¡¯t scary to me. I also come from a family of strong faith.
It¡¯s easy to start feeling sorry for yourself after a cancer diagnosis. But I made the decision early on that I could either sit around crying and asking, ¡°Why me?¡± or I could embrace the next chapter of my life and say, ¡°Thanks for the first 50 years, Lord. Whatever comes next, they¡¯ve been really great.¡±
My follicular lymphoma diagnosis
The way I was diagnosed was actually kind of weird. The first symptom was my eyelids swelling up in January 2014. They almost looked like I had pink eye, but the swelling would come and go from one day to the next.
People started telling me I looked tired and asking me if I was OK. I felt fine overall, but my eyes were really scratchy. It was like when you¡¯re watching a movie late at night, and you¡¯re exhausted and just want to go to bed, but you¡¯re determined to catch the end of it. One eye was also a little smaller than the other.
Doctors told me it was just allergies. But after months of eye drops and allergy tests, my doctor finally determined the problem was neurological. I saw a neurologist in August and had an MRI in September. The scan revealed several tumors: one behind each eyeball and two others in my throat and below my jawline. A biopsy showed they were follicular lymphoma. My doctor referred me to UT MD Anderson.
My follicular lymphoma treatment and side effects
At UT MD Anderson, I learned that my disease was actually not considered that advanced, despite having tumors in multiple places. So, a year of targeted therapy called a monoclonal antibody put me in remission. When the cancer recurred a year later in the glands under my tongue, surgery plus an aggressive course of chemotherapy took care of it. I¡¯ve been cancer-free ever since.
My treatment wasn¡¯t painful, and it didn¡¯t mess up my vision. But it did make me so draggy that I sometimes felt like someone had poured lead into my veins. The chemotherapy also made my hair fall out, which was really depressing.
Losing your hair is nothing compared to what a lot of other patients go through. And, when someone says, ¡°Bald is beautiful,¡± I agree. When I look at other people, I can see it. But when I looked at myself in the mirror, all I wanted to do was cry.
Hair doesn¡¯t define me. But mine was always gorgeous and thick. So, I didn¡¯t want to feel embarrassed by its loss. I started wearing a bandana underneath a baseball cap in public. My mother made me some very pretty scarves for church, too. When my hair started growing back, it was black and curly. Now, it¡¯s almost completely back to normal.
¡®We¡¯ve chosen to do something¡¯
That was more than five years ago. But I still remember the survivor¡¯s guilt I felt after one of my relatives died. I was in my early 50s when I was diagnosed with cancer, and my kids were grown. She was only in her early 30s, with her whole life ahead of her. I started thinking about how I could show my support. Eventually, I decided to join UT MD Anderson¡¯s Book Walk to End Cancer?.
I¡¯m not very good at fundraising. And, I didn¡¯t feel much like walking, either. But I wanted to do something. When I found a pair of gold cowboy boots at a resale shop that were just my size, it seemed like a sign.
I went to the Boot Walk by myself that first year. My nieces and nephews joined me the next. But last year, I decided to team up with some ladies I know. We called ourselves the Chosen Generation. Because we¡¯ve chosen to do something. This year, I¡¯ll probably do it again.
Our contributions may not be very much. But I believe we go through life so we can be there for somebody else. This is my way of saying I remember those who didn¡¯t survive, and that I understand what those who are still in treatment are going through.
or call 1-877-632-6789.
Topics
Non-Hodgkin LymphomaWe go through life so we can be there for somebody else.
Margie King
Survivor