Oh... I guess this is where I came in-

Duck and cover, kids... I mean, there's no smoking gun. It's from, all over. Everywhere. I'm not kidding. It's now a matter of luck, and the odds are (probably better than) 50/50, if it comes down to you and the next person it's nearly more likely to be you. This is the now into which we were born. I recoil in denial that such things are even possible, let alone becoming the norm. Leave the comfortable delusion and examine history again, it can't be denied, our species has been working towards shock and awe ultimate desolation for many centuries. Our ancestors would visualize the destruction of their opponents as ordered by God, a complete and thorough erasure of a people and all they surveyed. I have heard there are still ancient cities, as listed in biblical accounts were cursed by God, and are proven to have existed but have not yet ever been uncovered. Did I say that correctly? I'll look it up later...
It's happened before, more than likely, although if proof had been found it would not be revealed for fear of a "cultural upheaval," which we know cannot be allowed. Hanging on to their slim chance of maintaining control until the bitter end.
So... here I am at 5 years out. Five years ago I started this rambling observation of living after cancer diagnosis and the rigors of treatment. I'm sorry, really, that I wasn't up to keeping a day-to-day log, it would have been interesting. Perhaps. But most days I didn't know what day it was and my primary concern was survival. Getting the basics down to a routine  (as much as possible) helped me skip over having to remember if I took my pills that morning because, I always knew it was part of the routine even if I didn't remember that particular thing.
I know there are many more survivors out there, but we don't always hear about the ones who didn't survive beyond the cessation of treatment there was no point in continuing. Surviving the treatment is part of the battle since it can be (is) brutal even when being administered with the utmost kindness and attention (not always the case). Mine was no local skirmish settled with a surgical procedure  (although the throat biopsy did save my life in a sense), this was my all pervasive shock and awe chemical weapons attack against my own body which had run amok in its own processes due to a misguided genetic message. If I managed to withstand the on the ground onslaught on my own blood and marrow, I might live. Since it was already a defcon 4 full scale invasion of my sovereign infrastructure, I was not told how long they thought I might have without treatment, or whether I would even complete it, let alone how long after. Oh they warned me of the known possible dangers of my quest, but of the other challenging encounters I might engage in the long dark woods they were ill equipped to inform me. More over they tracked my progress to learn what they could from my voyage of discovery. It's my mission to Mars, and I haven't yet got clearance to land. So for now, I remain in orbit sending routine telemetry and maintaining the status quo. As the old saying goes: Lord willing and the creek don't rise....https://youtu.be/BtFrxJnZ4HI