In February 2021, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Follicular Lymphoma, Grade 3A, with bone marrow involvement.
I was not expecting that. Honestly, I still can't believe it sometimes.
This blog — Still Here — is where I document what has happened since then. The treatments, the relapses, the food choices that most people around me disagree with, the trails I walk, and the research I read at midnight when I can't sleep.
I originally wrote about this journey in Korean on my Naver blog. This is where I share the lymphoma-related parts of that story in English — for the wider community who might be walking a similar path.
My Diagnosis
Follicular Lymphoma, Grade 3A, Stage 4 with bone marrow involvement.
Grade 3A sits at the boundary between indolent and aggressive lymphoma. It is treated more like aggressive lymphoma — which is why my first-line treatment was R-CHOP, the same regimen used for diffuse large B-cell lymphoma.
Stage 4 meant the disease had spread beyond the lymph nodes. The bone marrow involvement confirmed that.
Treatment Timeline
| Period | Treatment | Outcome |
| Feb-Jun 2021 | R-CHOP x 6 cycles | ㅡ |
| Jul 2021 | ㅡ | Complete remission |
| Jul 2021-Mar 2023 | Rituximab maintenance (every 2 months × 12) | ㅡ |
| May 2023 | ㅡ | First relapse |
| Jun–Nov 2023 | Obinutuzumab + Bendamustine × 6 cycles | ㅡ |
| Dec 2023 | ㅡ | Partial remission (MRD positive) |
| Jan 2024–Sep 2025 | Obinutuzumab maintenance (every 2 months) | ㅡ |
| Oct 2025 | ㅡ | Second relapse (PET-CT confirmed) |
| Oct 2025 | Mosunetuzumab (planned) | ㅡ |
First Relapse. Then Second.
Two years after complete remission, the lymphoma came back.
May 2023. Second-line treatment: Obinutuzumab combined with Bendamustine, 6 cycles, once every 3 weeks. By December 2023, partial remission — but MRD positive. Microscopic disease remained.
Maintenance continued. Nearly two years, every two months, Obinutuzumab alone.
Then October 2025. Second relapse, confirmed on PET-CT.
Next planned treatment: Mosunetuzumab — a bispecific antibody. A different mechanism. I haven't started yet.
The Diet Question
Before my diagnosis, I had tried a low-carb, high-fat diet briefly. It worked well for me.
After diagnosis, I kept a loose version of it — not strict, but lower in carbohydrates than average. During that period, my remission stayed clean.
Then, under pressure from my family — who were understandably worried about a cancer patient eating high-fat foods — I switched. Brown rice, vegetables, Mediterranean-style eating. The kind of diet that oncology pamphlets tend to recommend. I followed it faithfully.
About a hundred days later, the lymphoma relapsed.
I have no scientific proof that the diet change caused the relapse. No controlled study. No hospital test comparing the two periods. It may have been coincidence. I know that.
But I believe it was connected.
When the second relapse came, my parents — who had asked me to follow the conventional diet — told me this time to do what I wanted. So on March 19, 2026, I switched back to low-carb, high-fat. Strictly this time. With the eventual goal of moving toward a carnivore diet.
I want to be clear about what I think this diet does and does not do.
I do not believe it will cure my cancer. I have seen many accounts online — people claiming full remission through diet alone. I respect their experiences. Mine is a different position.
What I believe is this: cancer cells thrive on glucose. By changing the metabolic environment of my body — reducing the fuel that cancer cells prefer — I am trying to make my body a harder place for the disease to grow. Not to cure it. To weaken it, while medicine does the rest.
Diet and treatment together. Not instead of each other.
Why I Walk
On the days my body allows it, I hike. Trails, mostly. Quietly, at my own pace.
It is not rehabilitation. It is not exercise in the clinical sense. It is the simplest way I know to feel like I am still moving forward.
Why This Blog
There are not many blogs written by people who are actively living with relapsed, refractory Follicular Lymphoma right now.
I wanted to write one.
Not to inspire. Not to claim I have found answers. Just to document — honestly — what this looks like from the inside.
If you are reading this with a similar diagnosis: I am not going to tell you what to do. But I hope something here is useful.
I'm still here. So far.
This blog reflects my personal experience only and does not constitute medical advice. Please consult your oncologist for all treatment decisions.