New Year's Eve Eve

The number of couch surfers we are hosting has multiplied!

As a result of fully booked backpacker accommodation in Melbourne, we now have three gorgeous, youthful, fun loving Italians staying with us (Lucio's friends who bused in from Adelaide).

After an amazing meal prepared by the newcomers Ambra (the marine biologist), Raffa (the barista) and a few glasses of good vino, the box of wigs and spectacles came out to play.

Needless to say we've had a fabulous night and have welcomed the last day of 2010. It's now 2:47am and it doesn't look like we'll be going to bed anytime soon.

So without further ado, I bid you adieu. I'm off to play Miss. DJ for there are many great tunes that ensue.

Oh, and for those who knew me in the days of Gracelands, Club Safari and /or the Salmon Palace, I am happy to report that my mojo is in full swing... and if you're lucky, you may even get an "I love you" phone call.

Until tomorrow, open your heart and home to those stranded with nowhere to sleep... you could be harboring the parents of a future messiah.

Grace xx

PS. Patrick has written his own version of this evening's events... click here if you're keen to read his side of the story ;-)

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Better out than in

You may recall that I had some teething problems in Penang a few months back.

I was in a dilemma about what to do - save my tooth at the cost of hundreds, if not thousands, without any guarantee that it would work out... Or remove the troublesome tooth.

I couldn't decide what to do, so I chose to hold out till I saw my favorite dentist in Australia.

So, to cut a long story short, after a couple of consultations with Dr.McKinnon, it was deemed that my tooth was not able to be saved and needed to be extracted - which happened today.

I have grown quite attached to my teeth and this little festering incisor proved difficult to say goodbye to, despite smelling like a rotting corpse in the Amazon jungle.

As I lay on the dentist chair I knew the time had come to let go of my septicemic tooth, and all the attachments it came with.

As Dr.McKinnon struggled to pull the three-rooted tooth from its core, I took deep breaths and said "let go, let go, holding onto this tooth is doing you more harm than good".

So with a few good tugs, my tooth was removed - and so was the septicemic stench.

Until tomorrow remember that the saying "it's better out than in" relates to more than stinky farts.

Grace xx

Out on the town

Tonight we were invited to an exclusive event hosted by master blogger Wade Wallace of Cycling Tips. The event was held at ACMI in Federation Square where a series of short films were presented by Rapha, a deluxe brand of cycling apparel.

The films were great, but it was Wade that shone in my eyes.

Wade is such an inspiration to an aspiring bloggess like your's truly. After starting Cycling Tips around two years ago, he is now highly sought after and his blog is his full time job.

Wade's site has the support of great sponsors and is the epicenter of a worldwide cycling community with over a million hits a month. Yet he is humble, humorous and an absolute joy to be around.

As we walked to our respective cars after a post-event dinner, I couldn't help but marvel at Wade's success. In short, he is my hero and my inspiration. So much so, that I am sitting here nigh on midnight tapping away with one finger on my iPhone to bring you a post that was supposed to be about my night on the town, and has turned into a tribute to the great man.

I suppose this photo of me taken just minutes before I climbed into the car is completely out of context now... other than the fact that Wade said I looked nice (thanks Wade).

Until tomorrow, let conversations take you where you hadn't planned and enjoy the detour. Much like a good road trip.

Grace xx

PS. Just got home and thought you might like to see this post Wade did about the time we hung out in Switzerland (as you do). He and Pat went for this crazy bike ride along a cliff face (as they do). Check it out by clicking this link. Oh, and make sure you watch the video at the bottom. Crazy!

Child's Play

Another busy day and another short blog post. Only this time I'm aware of the pitfalls that follow too many shallow posts.

I could have skipped a day, however I've come to value the importance this daily practice has on my general well being.

So here I am with full awareness. Knowing the worthiness of daily blogging and the dangers of prolonged superficial posts.

As I settle into being a quadragenarian, consistency and balance are two attributes I've come to value above all. They are not only the hallmarks of a truly superb wine or single malt Islay, they are also the ingredients for a livable life.

Which brings me to the title of this post.

This afternoon I popped into visit my 3 year old niece who was playing in her watery sandpit. I couldn't help but marvel at her joy whenever she mastered the skillful maneuver of pouring water from one vessel into another without spilling a drop. This seemingly simple act required a consistent and balanced action, which she improved with each attempt.

What I had observed in fact was a metaphor for life, and that mastery is nothing more than child's play.

So with that I'll leave you with today's sign off...

Until tomorrow, may your journey into mastery be as fun-filled as child play... and as delicious as an Islay.

Grace xx

Organising life

Why does the process of organising anything worthwhile take sooooooo much longer than we ever thought it would?

And when we're in the midst of our organising frenzy, why does it always look much worse than before we started?

What about when day goes into night, we don't seem any closer to the end and we cannot bear the sight of it any longer - how do we stay motivated to finish the job?

I'm well experienced to know that if I don't see it through till the end right now, it could take MONTHS before I get back to it - and that could lead to more clutter and chaos than my brain can handle.

Well, I am right smack bang in the middle of organising three trillion documents, check lists, brochures, leaflets and forms care of Thermomix. OMG!

I keep thinking I've only got an hour to go, and have had those thoughts for over five hours. Scary.

So it's short and sweet from me tonight and back to the pile of paper ahead. It's not all bad though, there's a sense of satisfaction each time I make, find, borrow or steal a home for each piece of sacrificed tree (so much for a paperless society).

Until tomorrow, remember that if you're not organising, you're disorganising.

Grace xx

Dinner for one

There's something liberating about going out for dinner on your own.

Patrick was called into work this afternoon and I attended our evening appointment with our health care practitioner solo.

I took advantage of the situation and visited my brother's family on my way home. After a quick cup of tea, I took a further detour and stopped by Andy's Yum Cha in Essendon.

This fabulous establishment was founded by one of the chefs that worked at Melbourne's top Chinese restaurant, The Flower Drum. It's the closest thing I have to a 'local' and is only 12 minutes from home.

I decided to dine on one of my FAVOURITE dishes of all time, minced prawns on silken tofu. To die for.

I am now chewing on my greens as I wait for the delicious dish to arrive.

I am comfortable in my skin. I don't feel the need to explain myself by carrying a sign that says 'I have friends, I just like my own company'.

Freedom.

Until next time, enjoy solo moments.

Grace xx

ps. Below is my favourite dish of all time. OMG - Amazing!

Bali Brief - Bali Buddha

Today is Day 1 of our RIDE International MTB tour.

It is the arrival and welcome day.

Pat took clients out for an intro to Ubud.

I took scooter to drop off our laundry.

Had breakfast at Bali Buddha.

Delicious.

The hard work starts now.

The Night Before

We are heading to Bali tomorrow and have so many boxes to tick before we board the plane and where are we? In a pub in Fitzroy waiting for our dinner.

Pat needed some last minute bike work to be done and I needed to check out my party venue... So here we are with our iPods, doing our work while we wait to be fed, and a bike wheel to be built.

We have become one of those couples you see, completely engaged in our gadgets to sustain a conversation. If only they knew we're flying to Bali tomorrow and still have so much work to do - like pack!

Until tomorrow, take advantage of small moments to get things done despite what it looks like on the outside.

Grace xx

Fairy business

What are the chances that on the day I dress up as a fairy I require the services of another winged sprite, one who is the patron pixie of the dental realm? Before you answer, let me just back track a bit...

In yesterday's post I mentioned that today marked the third birthday of my niece - who also happens to be my goddaughter. We had the most wonderful and magical fairy celebration, which was truly fabulous. It was a dress up affair and you know me, saying the words 'dress up' is like waving a red flag to a bull. I just couldn't help myself.

I managed to colour co-ordinate a set of wings with some flowing fabric, a sparkly wrist wand and few thousand feathers. Add the bling of a twinkling tiara and diamante-encrusted shoes to the ensemble, and I had all the trimmings of a bona fide fairy godmother. Perfect.

I was not surprised to discover that I was the only adult, other than the 'professional' entertainment fairy, that had dressed up for the occasion. This did not bother me. Being the birthday fairy's godmother (for real) gave me all the one-liners I could wish for to back myself up, and I used a fair few of them.

Anyway... getting back to the question at the top. What are the chances? I don't know. All I know is that I innocently bit into a carrot and lost half my tooth in the process. There I was using Bugs Bunny's favourite food to scoop up a delectable roasted garlic hommus when I felt an almighty crunch. I raced to the powder room with toothpick in tow, and two rather large chunks of MY TOOTH were wedged in between two other teeth.

OH MY GOODNESS!

I have often had dreams of my teeth crumbling in such a manner, and with the reflection of my fairy self in the mirror I almost thought this was such a dream... or rather, a nightmare.

I placed the broken pieces into a plastic bag and am now in search of a tooth fairy who can help put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Or at least try.

Until tomorrow, beware of extra crunchy carrots... you may have bit off more than what you ought to chew.

Grace xx

Funeral, Friends and Fairies

What a bizarre day I've had.

I woke up this morning rushing to get ready for a funeral. My late Nonno (grandfather)'s sister passed away earlier this week and today we said good bye.

As soon as I returned home, it was a quick change to pick up my friend and her gorgeous 6 year old daughter for a girlie fun night in (Patrick is in Canberra for a world MTB event).

Then, after making strawberry gelato for dessert, it was fairy wings and imaginary happenings as my little friend played with tomorrow's costume - I'm dressing up as a fairy for my niece (and goddaughter)'s third birthday.

I am feeling so much better within. It's amazing how funerals, friends and fairies make you appreciate the magic in life.

Until tomorrow, let sparkly magic liven up your day - even if it starts at death's door.

Grace xx

He loves me

After yesterday's open heart blog post, I arose this morning feeling post operative and rather sensitive. I was home alone for the most part of the day as Patrick had a 5am start. When he returned this afternoon I was eager to speed up the healing process and asked if he could help me get through this sticking point. He obliged.

I proceeded to explain that while I clearly knew I was having an overreaction to yesterday's bum burner incident, I was struggling to move on. After distilling my cocktail of emotions, I was able to identify the key feeling that started the domino effect. I felt 'forgotten', which in turn took me to the familiar story of being unloved.

While I cannot recall the initial incident that wrote the script, I can certainly remember the many occasions when this reaction played out like a theatrical drama. It would only take the the smallest trigger for me to translate it into 'they don't love me' and from then on it was lights, camera, action - the show was on.

As an adult I know that we all have moments when we say and do things that inadvertently hurt those we love, but that doesn't mean we no longer love them. This leads me to believe that our emotional scripts have been written by the hands of our younger selves LONG before we earned our pen licence. Something happened that we (with all the wisdom of a four year old) translated to mean that we're in some way unlovable, and from that moment on it become our truth.

Patrick was utterly brilliant this afternoon. Knowing that the genesis of my feelings occurred in 1970-something, he was able to create the space that enabled me to explore this freely.

Result? I was able to separate his actions from my recurring 'unlovable' saga and reach a point of peace. To top it all off, he put his arms around me in a reassuring embrace and said things that were for my ears only... and left me in the knowledge that he love me.

Until tomorrow, don't be afraid to ask those you love to help you through a sticking point.

Grace xx

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He loves me... he loves me not...

You may recognise the shoes in this photo from a previous post titled 'Happy Little Camper' however I can assure you that what I'm about to write is not of my shoe addiction. Instead, I'm going to explore my addiction to feeling unloved in response to mishaps.

Earlier today Patrick and I got caught up in our work and consequently skipped lunch. We were both starving as we were preparing to head out for an appointment, when Patrick raided the fridge in search for some 'fast' food (rare in our household).

He claimed one of my favourite smallgoods produced in the Barossa Valley that we affectionately call a 'bum burner'. This tasty savoury delight is made with natural wood smoke in the authentic German tradition and is in a word, delicious.

I'd be lucky to have had half a dozen bum burners in the last five years, so yesterday I decided to purchase two tasty treats - one for the road trip and one for when we returned home, which did just before midnight last night.

Before I had a chance to ask for a bite, Patrick had eaten the entire thing (it's only about five-bites worth). Thinking that he was playing a joke I said "Come on, I know you wouldn't do that - pass it over here," to which he replied, "I am not joking. I was so hungry I ate it all." Then after a small pause he said, "That was so selfish of me".

It was at that point that a javelin went straight into my heart and I became bombarded by the all too familiar "He doesn't love me" inner dialogue. I was so upset that I instantly felt like drowning myself in a bottle of wine, gorging myself on ten KFC hot wings followed by a cheeseburger, several chocolate bars and three ice creams (one of them would have been a Magnum) all while smoking an entire packet of cigarettes (I still have some from a carton I purchased duty free in Hong Kong in 2007 for such occasions).

As these feelings of rage, rejection and questioning whether being married to Patrick after such an act would be possible, I bit my tongue (metaphorically). I knew something was going on beneath the surface that was causing all these toxic emotions. Feeling like United States of Tara, I kept switching from observer to being in the midst of fury and dejection.

Even now as I type I feel myself switching through opposing emotions. One minute I am a calm, insightful wise woman and the next - a crazed axe murderer (lucky for Pat, we don't have an axe... I wonder if dental floss can do any damage?).

I may not have had such a strong reaction had it been the last apple Patrick took, as we can easily trot to the local shops and buy more... but we are talking about the last BUM BURNER, which we've not had in this particular household since moving here four years ago - nor is it so easy to replace (an 8-hour drive, or $100 return flight to get another one).

Had this not happened today, I may not have been alerted as to how strongly I react when my 'unloved' feelings are triggered. Since starting Project Grace 2010 200 posts ago (yessirree, you read correctly - yesterday marked my 200th post), I found that the number of these episodes have markedly reduced. So much so, that today really took me by surprise.

As soon as the trigger goes off I experience a sequence of feelings starting with sadness and loneliness, followed by rage and fury that rises in my belly. I then have an overwhelming urge to abuse myself with food, alcohol and cigarettes. The yearning is strong, the desire is magnetic.

Is this longing for intoxication born out of the need to numb the pain, say 'f#ck you' to the world or to slowly kill myself? At this stage I don't know, though my guess is that it is probably a combination of all three.

For many years I did not have the strength, will power or self love to resist. Today I did.

I still don't know why I translated Patrick's self-confessed act of selfishness to mean that he doesn't love me, therefore my addiction to feeling unloved in response to mishaps continues to remain a mystery. I will, however, keep a close eye on this addiction over coming months.

In the meantime I'm grateful for the insight I have gained- though there are moments when I'd like to be vengeful and get my hands on another bum burner, tie Patrick to a chair and make him watch me eat it one teeny bite at a time. Ah, the power of imagination - I feel better already.

Until tomorrow, be sure to dig deeper if your reactions are bigger than what you're reacting to.

Grace xx

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Monday Morning in Melrose

Melrose main street

Isn't amazing how a few days in a quaint country town can revive one's spirit and soothe a restless soul?

Since arriving here four days ago, I have gone from an uptight frustrated quasi iPhone user to a chilled out, happy-go-lucky bloggess.

Yes, I'm back... with gusto. Now I have this new technology under my wings, there's no stopping me - not even remote Australian country towns, or French hotels with crappy internet connections for that matter.

There's something empowering about persisting through difficult, upsetting and frustrating situations to reach a level of peace, tranquility and accomplishment. 

Despite wanting to give up on several occasions I kept pushing on, albeit reluctantly. Now I am glad that I did.

Interestingly, the same thing happened yesterday whilst out on a 12.2km (7.58mi) return hike to the summit of Mt. Remarkable. 

Striding alongside two gorgeous gazelles with legs up to their armpits and looking fitter than images of Bruce Lee, I felt completely out of my league. My heart just about leapt out of my mouth as we raced up the fist steep incline and I was ready to pull out. But I didn't. 

Result? 

I made it to the summit in one piece and returned to base within 3.5hours (2 less than the estimated time and in keeping pace with the gazelles). Though admittedly, I did not return in the same condition I left. I was distracted by a cute bunch of kids and tripped over a rock, landing flat on my boobs. Consequently I have some very sore body parts and bloody battle wounds. Ouch.

Despite all that, I am completely chuffed with myself for enduring and completing such an achievement. While my body may be aching, my soul is soaring.

Until tomorrow, persist through your challenges and rise to the top... even if you do fall over in the process.

Grace xx

Hello... Is it me you're looking for?

I am so excited

I have FINALLY got an iPhone 4 after patiently waiting for over a fortnight.

I am now in Adelaide getting acquainted with my new toy. I feel like a seven year old on Christmas morning. Thankfully this toy already has a working battery in it.

I am doing this post entirely on my iPhone as my laptop is unable to pick up our neighbour's trusty wifi, so please excuse any wierdness in appearance.

Tomorrow we prepare to head to Melrose in the Southern Flinders Ranges, where I'm certain there'll be many adventures ahead.

Until tomorrow, be sure to try something new even if it takes fifty times longer than normal.

Grace xx

What's cookin' good lookin'?

Last week I embarked on a massive cleaning, clearing, sorting, organising, painting, hammering, shifting and redecorating mission.

'One Word Week' was something I came up with to minimise blog time and maximise mission time.

Each day I chose a word that summed up my day, which in itself was challenging.

One Word Week is now over yet my mission is still going - so I'll continue to focus on short blogs.

This is a very exciting time for me. I can feel change stirring in my belly (and no, it wasn't last night's cannellini beans). While the source of my recent busying is a mystery to me, I know that I'm cooking up a storm - though I don't exactly know what (or why).

I am directing this bizarre burst of domestic energy and enthusiasm into altering my environment, despite not having any concrete plans. It's all a bit of a mystery, much like the way I cook. I simply start by chopping vegetables and the dish reveals itself. Perhaps the same will happen with my current domestic mission.

Until tomorrow, just start and see where it leads.

Grace xx

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Mission Defrostible

A few years ago, we inherited a 1970-something bar fridge complete with lovely faux woodgrain exterior.

Bordering between funky and f'ugly, we were delighted to welcome this vintage addition into our bohemian abode.

Over the last few years, our inheritance grew a rather spectacular iceberg.

What started out as a 'frosty bit' soon took over the entire top left corner until we could no longer close the door.

The funny thing about all of this, is that it all seemed to have happened overnight. One day we could close the door and the next day we couldn't.

We set to work on defrosting our little brown box by leaving the door open for 24-hours. However our chilly weather, combined with our crappy heating, meant there was very little defrosting to be had.

So this morning, it was time to bring out the big guns. My Turbo 1500 hairdryer. Yeah baby.

As I watched the monster iceberg melt away I couldn't help thinking that what I was witnessing was a metaphor for what many of us do to ourselves as we navigate our way through life. Sadly, some of us develop so many layers over time that we just get lost (just as I did prior to Project Grace 2010 - and my ice-cube tray prior to the Turbo 1500).

Whether we wrap our bodies in fat or our hearts in ice, the layering process is slow and barely noticeable. Bit by bit, one day at a time, we have the capacity to create a monolithic barrier that impedes our ability to do up the top button of our trousers or shed a tear when we hurt someone we love. Ultimately, it costs us our happiness, freedom of self expression and our sense of self.

If we're lucky, we'll recognise this as a 'malfunction'. At that point, we can get to work on melting away our barricades. It doesn't matter whether we opt for the patient 'slowly-but-surely' method or take the express 'it-has-to-happen-NOW' approach, so long as we alter the conditions and do what we need to do to restore ourselves - just like your's truly... and my little brown fridge.

Until tomorrow, be sure to melt away whatever's obstructing your life.

Grace xx

PS. Just for the record, I've taken the patient 'slowly-but-surely' approach for longer lasting results [ting] (That was supposed to be a sound effect. Now imagine that with a white sparkle reflecting off my smile and you've got me summed me up).

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The first sign of insanity

Have you ever heard people saying that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity? Then a wise guy might add "It isn't the talking to yourself you have to worry about, it is the answering yourself back."

Well tonight I learned that talking to yourself is not as poco loco as 'they' would have you think.

We attended a rather fascinating sports psychology seminar this evening and discovered the importance of self talking. It can either be good for you (positive self talking) or bad (negative self talking).

I had a huge lightbulb moment when I realised how often I berate myself for not being perfect (remember how I grew up thinking that 99% equals fail?)

I habitually make negative (bordering abusive) comments towards myself when I fall short of the mark. Apparently this kind of carry on is not useful for achieving goals (or happiness). Nor is not uncommon for overachievers.

So with this new insight into my psyche, along with skills to counteract the ill effects of such self-abusive comments, I am ready willing and able to take action. It's time to switch the inner dialogue from auto pilot to manual, and take over the helm. With Captain Grace Champion at the wheel, I'll be turning that damaging negative chatter to a positive reinforcing weapon of mass construction. You just watch this space.

I am quite excited by the thought of what potential this new way of being could unleash... but then again my current state of excitement could also be attributed to the sound of the rain falling (see yesterday's post if the latter comment makes absolutely no sense to you).

Until tomorrow, be rest assured that talking to yourself is not a sign of insanity so long as you keep it positive - and agreeable.

Grace xx

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Hush hush - the secret is soul

Last night we had a sleep over at our nephew and niece's house (okay it's their parent's house, but don't tell them that).

After having spent over two months overseas, we had a lot of playtime to catch up on.

'Stacks on' was the most popular game of the evening (imagine layers of people stacked like a pancake with laughter as the syrup) that had us all giggling uncontrollably.

It was getting late for a school night and instead of tucking the little ones into bed, we were invited into the kitchen corner to engage in a hush hush conversation.

"You can take him tomorrow if you want."

"Pardon?"

"We give him one teacher-free day each term and he hasn't taken one this term." And with that, we had permission to take our young nephew out on the town for the entire day (his sister is still a little too young for such an expedition).

We decided to have lunch at Lucia's (pictured above) - a culinary institution located in Adelaide's Central Market. I have long been astounded at how food alone, was able to carry the original 70's decor of orange Formica tabletops and brown vinyl chairs through the ages.

This Italo-Adelaidean icon has gone through three generations, withstanding the pastel 80's and minimalist 90's influences, to have come full circle and be regarded as funky retro in the new millennium. Now that's what I call standing the test of time.

I often wonder what has been the secret to Lucia's success. What I come up with is soul. Sure you can talk about quality produce, consistency, value and not giving into to fads and whims - but it's soul that gives it resilience. It is soul that has seen it live on.

Then I thought about our time here in Adelaide.

While we came to Adelaide for work, we took time out on a 'school day' to have a sit down lunch with four generations of Patrick's family (him, his mother, grandmother and nephew). Sure there are other things each of us could have done that were high on the list of priorities, but we chose to spend time together - and that my friends, is soul.

Until tomorrow, may you inject soul into your everyday life and realise that what lies beneath it all is something else that stands the test of time - family.

Grace xx

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Brake Down

So here we are in a Lambourghini tractor workshop located in rural Victoria (I didn't even know Lambourghini made tractors), with our car jacked up.

We (as in Patrick and the tractor mechanic) are trying to find out what is causing an unhealthy grating noise when we apply our newly installed brakes.

I am sitting on my suitcase listening to the rain fall as I type on my laptop. Literally on my lap top.

In short, "Houston we have a problem."

Since embarking on this road trip two days ago, we seem to be encountering quite a few such problems. It's almost like the universe is deliberately halting our attempts to reach Adelaide this weekend.

Our first stall occurred in Apollo Bay when Patrick ran into bike trouble. He was putting together our friend's new Malvern Star MTB when he was challenged by the new 2011 model gear shifters. Long story short, a 10 minute job turned into a half-day affair.

We hit the road about five hours behind schedule only to be hindered a few hours down the road. We saw the aftermath of a head-on collision between an Italian stallion and a 4WD (SUV) full of Spaniards. Luckily there were no deaths or (obvious) serious injuries, however there was serious memory lapse in one of the victims who asked for his watch every two minutes. We did what all good samaritans do. Stopped, called emergency aid, warned oncoming traffic with flashing hazard lights and kept everybody calm until help arrived.

After standing in the wind and rain for over two hours, we did a handover to a policeman who took over the show and we were free to go.

We were both shaken up and decided to call it a night at Hotel Warrnambool - a very cool pub with sleeping quarters that have been funk-fully decorated. Our room was above the live band and despite being tired, we could not sleep with our bed vibrating to the jazz music. So we logged onto our computers to discover that our gorgeous friend Jo had a baby boy 10-weeks before he was due (we were actually going to Adelaide to surprise her for the baby shower on Sunday - but looks like she trumped us in the surprise stakes).

The band stopped after midnight and we finally went to sleep in what must have been the most comfortable bed in the world. Reluctantly, I arose this morning to start a new day, which has ultimately led to me tapping away to A Flock of Seagulls singing "I ran, I ran so far away" followed by John Farnham's "Give me a reason" - what do you think the universe is trying to tell us?

Until tomorrow, learn to slow down, pause and see the lighthearted moments in the moment - despite having reasons to run away.

Grace xx

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Dental Drama

Several years ago I had a root canal (not fun) in response to an infection that killed the nerve in my No. 6 top left tooth.

Soon after my procedure a little lump appeared in my gum that swelled when I was stressed and subsided when I was chillaxed (I am exploiting that word this week).

Having faith in the human body's intelligence and one's own immune system, I interpreted my flaring lump as a reliable warning system. It forced me to take things easy when I was revving out. Though I must confess I was a little surprised that over the many years of numerous health regimens, my body was not able to kill it off completely.

Then last week, I went to the dentist for a completely unrelated incident. As it turned out, my lump was more of a concern than I thought. After taking an x-ray for a whopping AUD$6.90, Dr. Ang told me that the infection that killed my nerve was not completely annihilated during the procedure. Tragically, it is now harbouring above the root and beneath my gum in the form of a something that looks like a cyst.

She then proceeded to tell me that I had two choices;

1. To remove my tooth completely and clean up the damaged tissue. Then after a minimum of three months healing time, get an implant for several thousand bucks. Ouch.
   
   
2. Have dental surgery, which involves a procedure so horrible that I couldn't possibly traumatise you (or me) with the details. Let's just say they'll be getting in behind my gum to clean up the tissue and kill the infection before sewing me back up again. Gross.
   

Unable to decide, I opted to make an appointment for today and took the weekend to ponder. I spoke to Pat and he said "Save the tooth" without realising what major dental surgery it involved.

When I went in today, we discussed several worse-case scenarios for either option and I still could not decide which way to go. Then alas, an option 3 was born. After candidly admitting that "If you've had it for this long, a little longer won't hurt" Dr. Ang suggested that I consult an endodontist in KL or Australia.

After consulting Google, I discovered that an endodontist specialises in the pulp (tissue) around the tooth and not the actual tooth.

While I still have faith in my body's own immune system, I think it may be time for me to assist its dental battle and call in the experts. I'm also applauding myself for questioning Dr. Ang to the nth degree, which produced a third option - consulting an endodontist. As a result, I have a new course of action whilst simultaneously expanding my vocabulary through the discovery of another dental profession.

Until tomorrow, if you don't like option 1 or 2, then keep going until you reach option 3... and who knows what you might discover.

Grace xx

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