The Blogger is In

So tomorrow I'm doing the whole Grey's Anatomy/House/Scrubs thing by having two of the lumps found on my chest removed. This feels like TMI (too much info) in some sense, but I feel like writing a blog post before going under the knife.

I have confidence in my doctor and am steadfast in my faith in God so I'm not that worried. But I also can't help but entertain morbid thoughts about death, of all things. Maybe because of the phone call I got earlier today from my cousin's husband—a practicing neurosurgeon—genially warning me about the risks of general anesthesia, being intubated, and so forth.

That aside, I am truly inclined to call these lady lumps Little Angry New Yorkers. Seriously! In the last eight or nine years that I'd been regularly going to the doctor for annual checkups (a few skips along the way), it was only when I'd spent almost two years abroad and living in New York that I'd grown cysts. Is it the water? Is it the peeling paint in the prewar buildings? I'm told that there is no known cause for breast lumps.

Going back to my thoughts on dying, I can say that I'm not afraid at all. I'm just sad if it were to happen because it would be a terrible thing to leave my fiancé. Yesterday, was our fourth year and eighth month anniversary. In September we turn five. In February we're getting married. And hopefully we get to honeymoon in England. There is so much to look forward to!

Yet, if I were to pass away on the operating table, as if mimicking a perturbing episode of House, I actually feel fulfilled at this point. I can truly say that I am happy, I feel love and feel loved, I have a comfortable amount of debt that can be paid in mere weeks, the people I love are more or less healthy and living comfortably, I've enjoyed many happy weekends with Alvs, going to Sunday market, hearing mass, grocery shopping, laughing at our cute fat dog, going around Greenhills spotting gadgets and trinkets. The dinners, the lazy days, the desserts. I really am in a happy place.

As for work, I also feel like I've hit an equilibrium in terms of what I've done and what I want to do with my career. I've enjoyed working from home and penning pet projects that are now in the hands of capable managers. I feel like I've done my work, and I carry with me wonderful memories and hilarious anecdotes from a nine-year career in many branches of beauty, fashion, and publishing.

And if I survive tomorrow, I'll even let you in on some secrets and share tidbits on the Little Angry New Yorkers. Ultimately—literally and figuratively—finally get them off my chest :)