UGA professor tells her story of surviving cancer

Marguerite Madden's journey began with an unexpected back pain that led to a life-changing lymphoma diagnosis. Supported by her family, friends and an exceptional medical team, despite the grueling treatments and setbacks, Marguerite stayed determined, continuing her work as a professor and rebuilding her strength. Now, nearly two years after a stem cell transplant, she remains cancer-free, embracing life with hope and gratitude … and running. 

By Marguerite Madden

At the end of May 2022, I started my two-day drive from Plattsburgh, New York, not far from the Canadian border where I was visiting my 90-year-old parents, to Athens, Georgia, where I live and work at the University of Georgia in the Geography Department. I had gone for a run earlier that morning and was driving out of the driveway when I noticed a pain in my lower back on the left side. “Must have pulled something,” I said and drove on. 

The next month I traveled to Nice, France, to attend a 10-day conference. I was surprised to find I couldn’t keep up with the small group of runners I would meet in the mornings to run along the iconic Promenade des Anglais by the Mediterranean Sea. But when I tested positive for COVID-19, I thought that explained my fatigue.

In July I drove back to New York to spend time with my family at our camp in the Adirondacks. Over the next couple of weeks, the pain in my back escalated. My primary care provider in Athens advised me during a telemedicine meeting that I should come back for some tests. A CT scan showed a large mass in my abdomen encasing the aorta and involving my left kidney and psoas muscle. The report said, “Findings are likely related to lymphoma. This [mass] measures greater than 13 x 9.3 cm.” A biopsy followed five days later.

I was home when my doctor called me with the CT results — lymphoma. She asked if anyone was with me. My partner, Robbie, was, but I wasn’t very worried about the diagnosis. My sister, Ellie, had been diagnosed with stage 3 non-Hodgkin’s diffuse large B-cell lymphoma (DLBCL) over 30 years ago at age 25. She endured six grueling rounds of chemotherapy, but she beat the cancer and went on to have three beautiful children. In 2000, Ellie and I ran the first of many full and half marathons together. She probably had 35 full marathons and two ultra-marathons under her belt. I believed I would be fine.

Then the biopsy results came in. I had the same Stage 3 DLBCL as my sister, but mine was further diagnosed as high-grade B-cell lymphoma with MYC and BCL2 gene rearrangements, also known as double-hit lymphoma (DHL). This rare subtype of DLBCL has two genetic mutations that can lead to a “poor outcome.” DHL is harder to treat, tends to spread to the central nervous system and relapses within two years. 

I was referred immediately to Dr. Ranjana Bhargava at Georgia Cancer Specialists (GCS), affiliated with Northside Hospital Cancer Institute, in Athens. Her knowledge, experience, compassion and attention to me as an individual cannot be expressed strongly enough and this level of care was repeated in every nurse and office staff member I encountered at GCS and Northside Hospital.

In August 2022, I began three-week cycles of intensive chemotherapy — a different mix than what cured my sister. A central line port was surgically inserted under my skin to administer the chemo drugs directly into my bloodstream. I was admitted to a hospital in Athens for five days of 24-hour IV chemotherapy, followed by a lumbar puncture to biopsy my spinal fluid and inject methotrexate to prevent the lymphoma from spreading to my brain. After a week of treatment, I returned home to recover for two weeks. This three-week cycle was repeated six times.

During my chemo treatments, I received incredible support. Robbie attended every appointment and hospital stay, caring for our four rescue Chihuahuas. My daughter, Ayn, a nurse, provided medical advice to manage the chemo’s side effects. My son, Kemp, flew back from Germany to be with me, and my stepson, Auryn, returned home from his travels in Central America. My former husband, Joe, and his husband, Steve, drove from Atlanta almost weekly to be with me in the hospital and plant flowers in my garden during my recovery weeks. Ellen, my stepson’s mother, and Ayn’s friends surprised me with a chain of 1,000 origami cranes, a Japanese symbol for hope and healing, that they strung around the living room and kitchen. For each round of chemo, my brothers and sisters in New York made signs of encouragement out of paper plates that I could see on the video camera at our summer camp. 

My colleagues and students at UGA supported me as well. They enabled me to continue teaching geography courses, meeting with graduate students and overseeing a NASA internship program remotely.

Between working and walking the halls of the cancer unit, pulling my IV pole along with me, I kept my sanity and my fitness as healthy as possible. 

In December 2022, a PET scan showed the mass had shrunk enough for me to ring the bell at GCS. I met with Dr. Asad Bashey with the Blood and Marrow Transplant (BMT) Program at Northside Hospital, who said I was a good candidate for an autologous stem-cell transplant. After Christmas, I prepared to move to Atlanta. 

Ayn took a leave of absence to be my 24-hour caregiver. For the next three months, she was by my side as I needed to harvest my stem cells, undergo high-dose chemotherapy, have the transplant and rebuild my immune system. We moved into a hotel suite only a five-minute drive from Northside Hospital where Dr. Bashey and the amazing nurses and staff of the BMT Program guided us through the next stages of my treatment. 

On Feb. 6, 2023, my stem-cell transplant took place. The next week involved daily clinic visits for fluids, bloodwork and monitoring, as my blood cell counts dropped to zero. I continued teaching remotely, but on Day 7, I developed a blood infection, requiring hospitalization and IV antibiotics. 

After five days in the hospital, I could feel my body slowly regaining some strength. I returned to our hotel suite and Ayn began walking with me short distances outside in the evenings. Each day I tried to walk a little farther and, by March, I had worked my way up to an hour-long, 3-mile walk around our hotel. I did this religiously, convinced this was the only way I would be able to return to “normal” life.

When my transplant care at Northside was completed, I returned to Athens in time for my 67th birthday in April and was greeted at the door by four Chihuahuas I had greatly missed. I isolated myself at home for the next three months and gradually added short downhill stretches of turtle-pace running into my daily 3-mile walks around the neighborhood. 

I had lost 15 pounds and my hair was barely a half-inch long when I made the drive north to the Adirondacks in July. Ellie and I went for the slowest runs in recorded history, but by the end of the month, I was up to 4miles. 

That fall of 2023, I returned to Athens and to teaching my classes at UGA. I also started training for the AthHalf Half Marathon, which I had run every year since it started in 2009. Missing 2022 because of my chemotherapy, I was determined to complete the race in 2023, even if they closed the course and I had to cross the finish line by myself. On Oct. 23, 2023, I completed the 13.1-mile course in 3 hours, 47 seconds. I have never been so proud of coming in seventh place in my 65-69 age group.

I continue to see Dr. Bhargava regularly and every six months I go to Northside Atlanta for a PET scan and a bone marrow biopsy. This coming February, it will be two years since my transplant. I hope to continue to be cancer-free thanks to the amazing care I received from my family, friends, doctors, nurses and staff at GCS and Northside Hospital BMT.

My plans to retire have been put on hold and Ellie and I are making plans for our next marathon.