This is just about how the city feels today, the day after Election Day 2016. (I took the photo on Halloween, when people were still jolly, and this scene didn’t suggest an impending nuclear apocalypse). People cried openly in the street this morning. I passed my childrens’ doctor. She was crying too.

I’m here not to talk about the election, but to humbly observe a little anniversary. Today marks the second anniversary of this here little cancer chronicle. Because I habitually post through an app on my tiny phone screen, I don’t have access to stats like how many posts (there have probably been over 200 306) or how many visitors (a steady stream every day now 13,445) or which post was the most popular (I believe that’s now a post that has not much to do with my illness at all, but is an introduction to the work of the artist Nina Katchadourian).

But: I’ve written a lot here, in sickness and in health, and the fact that I’m still here to write about my cancer seems like a good trick. I didn’t know for sure when I began the blog that I’d be around this long. I guess I meant all those long rants as legacies, maybe?

In the interest of updating you, there is no news on the cancer front. I will have a CT scan next week (upper body, excludes brain). I am not really thinking about it. I hope that is a wise move. I’ve joined a proper gym, with machines that have TVs attached, and the first thing I always do is shut the TV off. And, I got some translation work, from a place that may be able to give me more, which is exciting!

So what I’m doing here, really, is enduring. No, not enduring in the “putting up with it” sense. I mean being enduring, lasting. Persisting. Thank Science for that.

And thank you all, my readers, for coming back again and again. It is a “small, good thing at a time like this,” to know you are there.