The Blong of Rog

It appears that there is some dissension in the ranks of my loyal readers. Apparently my blog is too long, and this is impacting upon people's everyday lives across the world! I've heard of eyes popping out in Switzerland, inability to work because attention is placed on reading blog in the UK, and general inability to do anything in Australia due to fixation with blog (and no this person was not me!). However, in Malaysia there is a report of profound enlightenment, where my detailed account of proceedings has provided tremendous insight to my readers. Given it's worldwide appeal, my blog may yet reach Biblical proportions!

To overcome the conception that my blog might be too long, I have created a new term, "blong", to describe my blog and all others like it. Pass the word around my children, so that the world may be enlightened by blong!

T-minus Two Days and Counting

Two days until surgery, it's time to list out what I need to take with me to hospital. Following, is my prioritised list:

1) clean, holeless underwear (not boxer shorts - these supposedly fall down a lot in hospital!)
2) a pair of pyjama pants (the only ones I own)
3) seven sleeping t-shirts
4) condoms
5) my ipod with LOTS of music (to drown out the sound of babbling relatives)
6) a set of cards that I have labelled, with orders written in big letters such as "rub me", "srcatch my back", "massage my head", "get me a beer" etc

No doubt I have forgotten things - but I am sure that Yvette will cherish waiting upon me hand and foot! :o)

Temporary Blog Secretary

With impending heart surgery upon me, I have to make an important decision, that has serious ramifications for the future - I need to find a temporary blog writer for me while I am in hospital. I am conscious of maintaining the high level of verbal blurbing that I have managed to date, together with a slick sense of humour and infinite charm. It is certainly going to be no small task indeed for my temporary replacement to maintain this high standard! But for the sake of my adoring readers (you!), I aim to find the very best.

Mom and dad are out of the question, since they don't know the existence of this blog - in fact if they ever found out I think they'd be terribly distraught - I don't think they'd quite understand the reasoning behind my ramblings. In reality, I guess that there is really only one choice. Yvette. She's sexy, but can she type? Well I guess we'll find out, because from Monday onwards you'll be hearing from her. So please be warned, I won't be able to guarantee the quality, length, or subject content. Suffice to say, any posts that do not paint me in an angelic light will surely have been altered from the original form that is delivered from my mouth to Yvette....... :o)

P.O.P. Will it Ever End?

It’s about 11am, and it’s time for tea and coffee. The rest of the morning will be taken up by three things – chest x-rays, measurements and blood collection, and meeting our respective surgeons (where possible) and anaesthetists. Given that I already have my chest x-ray from not long ago, and I’ve already met my surgeon Mr Dixit, this shouldn’t take long. Patients are called out individually, and I’m not one of the first, so I get some more bonding time with my buddy. We shake hands and introduce each other properly – his name is Alan. I like him already, we’ve spent all morning talking and joking. Within a few minutes I know his life history. His brother had a valve replacement more than 30 years ago, and died ten years later. Alan says that he was diagnosed with an aortic valve problem at age 16, and since he has been monitored regularly they detected that he needs a replacement early this year, and he has been on a waitlist ever since. He has four kids, two boys and two girls. One of his daughters, and his wife, have accompanied him. He gets called out to see the nurse, so I chat to another guy. He is a lot quieter, I think he is really scared about the surgery. But we have a good chat, and trade our stories. I feel like I am at a gathering of war veterans trading our experiences. Then he is called out, and I’m on my own. The volunteer lady comes to chat, and we talk for ages. I'm beginning to wonder if P.O.P. will ever end!

Finally I’m called by the nurse, who weighs me, measures my height, and collects four tubes of blood for blood typing, HIV testing and a couple of other things. She then tells me that she needs to take a swab from my nose, armpit and groin. I don’t mind this, so she gets the cottonbud and sticks it in my nose – and then to my horror she proceeds to use the same one to swipe my armpit and then groin! Gross!

I return to the group, still in shock, and almost immediately the anaesthetist arrives and calls me out. Like my cardiologist, he is a fairly handsome forty something guy. We go to a meeting room, and he describes how he is going to sedate me for the surgery. Its pretty straightforward, he describes the drugs etc. He also tells me that I am the first patient for Tuesday morning – so my surgery will be at 7am. I ask him about how common allergic reactions to the drugs are – he tells me a story about a patient a while ago who had a serious anaphylactic response to the anaesthetic after his heart surgery while led to his body shutting down because the blood couldn’t get to his organs. Injecting adrenalin or noradrenaline into him did not fix the problem, so they had to take him back to the operating theatre, open him up and the surgeon had to take the heart in his hands and pump it to get the blood around the patient’s body. Turns out that the drugs had dilated all of the patient’s blood vessels, meaning that there wasn’t enough pressure for his heart to pump the blood around his body – but they were able to fix it. Sounds like a horror story, but surprisingly I’m not fazed by it.

I return to the big room to say goodbye to my heartbuddy. Actually, I go back to let him know that I’m first for surgery! :o) I wish the other guys well, and then I’m off home. I’m actually feeling very positive about the surgery, and now I think I’m not worried about the recovery either. In fact, I’m looking forward to challenging myself and trying to recover as quickly as I can.

P.O.P. Rehabilitating my Body

Next we meet the physiotherapist. She looks young, not a day older than 23! She’s not the first to ask if I am a patient, and she probably won’t be the last. She also has a booming voice. She explains the exercise regime that is going to be placed upon us. We practise breathing techniques (it really is becoming a pregnancy class!), and arm, leg and trunk exercises. The exercises are designed so that we don’t put pressure on our chest, which normally happens when we use our arms. So we learn how to clench our butt cheeks, and wiggle our bums from the back of the seat to the front edge without using our arms. Our physiotherapist jokes that girls tend to be better at the latter – I think from my experiences I’d agree with that! :o)

We also learn that our best friend for the next week is going to be Mr Teddy. He’s not actually a teddybear, but a small pillow that we will be given. We are to hold it close to our chest with both arms crossed over it whenever we try and move our bodies, or cough, or laugh, so that we make sure that we don’t place strain on our chest. The idea of a group of eight grown men walking down hospital corridors hugging their pillows tightly amuses me!

P.O.P. The Operation and Beyond

Next is the head nurse of the Cardiothoracic Unit, and she describes the entire process pre-surgery, during surgery and post-surgery. She hands out an antiseptic bodywash that we have to use during showers commencing two days prior to the surgery date. The day prior to surgery we have to check into the hospital at 2pm. The shaving nurse will come around and shave us – to which I ask if I can keep my one chest hair? I become the butt of my own joke when the nurse asks me to show it to her so that she can decide! On the day of surgery we are going to be woken up at 5am, shower and then if we are the first patient for the day, prepare for surgery, which will happen around 7am when we are drugged and then taken into the operating theatre. The second patient will have breakfast, and go into surgery after the first one comes out, around 11am to midday. It turns out that the guy sitting next to me is my surgery buddy – we have the same surgeon in Tuesday. We wanna toss for first position (nothing would be worse than waiting!).

As part of the surgery, we’ll have some tubes put into our abdomen – one into the bladder to remove urine. We’ll have catheters inserted into our wrists, and also into our carotid arteries in our neck. And a breathing tube inserted down our throats. The sternum will be cracked down the middle, our hearts/valves/arteries/liposuction will be fixed and then our chestbone wired together, chest stitched shut and we’ll be taken to the high dependency Intensive Care Unit. We’ll gradually come out of the anaesthetic, for the first person probably around 7-8pm. As the requirement for the various tubes/catheters is no longer necessary they will be removed. The nurse passes around two large photos, one of a patient in the operating theatre, and one of a patient in the HDICU. Some people don’t want to see them, I choose not to because I’ve seen plenty of patients in surgery before. A gloomy pall falls over everyone though – I think reality has hit a bit, and not even the continual joking and banter that have been going on all morning can protect against it. I look around, and most people are really scared. I’m so glad that no-one came with me – I think they’d be really freaked out right now!

On the day after the operation (day 1) we are transferred to the Step-Down Unit, where we’ll stay for a day or two. We’ll still have pee removal systems in place, and the throat tube will be replaced with an oxygen mask. Our heart rate and rhythm will be continually monitored by a nurse who will be assigned to each patient. We’ll also be given the little green button, which is used for self administering morphine when we decide that we need it. This gets us all excited, until we’re told that only the first click will work, and subsequent clicks will be recorded but not administer drugs. I decide I’m gonna click it continuously for fun! At this time, we will be encouraged to exercise! This surprises most of us, including me. I figured that we would be out of action for much longer than this! It’s at this point that we learn that the only reason why our recovery will take 2-3 months is because this is how long it takes for our sternum to fully heal, and the reason why we can’t drive, or carry heavy objects etc is so that it heals properly. This triggers off a range of questions from the crowd – like “when can I play golf again?”. During the break, my op-buddy tells me he is an avid deer hunter. He asks the nurse whether he can shoot before the 3 months is over. Given the recoil of a firearm, I’m not surprised she says no, but my new friend is devastated. His wife offers to take the shot for him, this makes him even unhappier.

On day 2 (or 3) we will walk ourselves to the general ward (I wonder if the hospital has a shortage on wheelchairs!), where we will have a shower and gradually increase the distance that we can walk, with guidance of course. By day 6, which is the day that we leave the hospital (yes that is not long at all!) we should be walking about 200m. This all sounds a lot better than I had expected, maybe this surgery won’t be so tough after all!

The nurse ends by asking us to fill a specimen bottle with urine for tests. Like little kids we all rush up and grab the bottles and run to the toilet – there’s only one so we all line up. Another chance to chat to the others. I meet the only other guy unaccompanied this morning – it turns out he used to play golf and squash with my uncle! I fill my urine bottle, it reminds me of my younger years studying physiology at uni.

P.O.P. Heartbeat

This morning was my pre-operation preparation at the hospital, which I have called P.O.P. I’m not entirely sure what to expect, but I assume that someone will take some blood and some measurements, and discuss the operation with me. I arrive just after 8am, and after a quick visit to admin to fill in some admission forms, I am taken to a room filled with other people. I quickly determine that P.O.P. is the heart surgery version of ante-natal class. There are eight other people here who will be having major heart surgery next week, accompanied by their families. None of them is younger than 55, and in fact one of them asks if I am their surgeon? There are seven gentleman and one lady patient, and almost all of them look terrified. Little discussions are taking place, and the light-hearted banter focuses upon the one thing we have in common – heart surgery. One man is having double bypass surgery (two blocked arteries leading to the heart, so veins from his arms or legs will be transplanted to replace the blocked arteries). The next triple bypass. This is topped by double bypass and a valve replacement. My valve repair/replacement is starting to sound pretty simple now! We are all put into place by the elder statesman of the group, a 77 year old gentleman, who declares in a very strong steady voice that he is having a quadruple bypass. I really hope his surgery goes well!

Finally our group session commences, and we are introduced to Lee, who is a member of Heartbeat, an association of ex-cardiac patients who want to provide support and assistance to other heart surgery patients and their carers. She had a aortic valve replacement in 2004, and is accompanied by her husband. She informs us that they will be our “case officers” and will visit us during our stay in hospital to see how we are going, and provide assistance as required. They also do post-hospital check-ups to make sure that things are going ok at home. She tells us about her own experiences, and I think it reassures most of the group, at least a little bit.

Prize for the 200th visitor!

It's been getting ever closer to the magical 200, and I've been thinking really hard about how to identify that 200th visitor to my blogsite and a prize that I can give them. All that I can come up with is hopefully identifying the country of the visitor, but I guess that's a start.

After getting home from my pre-op checkup at the hospital, I get a call to tell me that our ADSL connection has been fixed (at last!). I go home, and the first website I log on to is my blog. I go to the webcounter, and see 1 visitor from Australia (obviously me), and the webcounter is 199. I refresh the page, and my webcounter updates, to 200 visitors. So guest number 200 is none other than....... me! Damn it!! Another wonderful idea, shot down in flames...........

Silent Ringtone

Just saw an advertisement that made me laugh really hard! Imagine a completely new type of ringtone, completely different to all others, that will really set you apart from all the rest. Guaranteed to turn heads wherever you are. What is it you ask? Another Crazy Frog? Even better. It's the silent, yes silent, ringtone! It's pitched at a frequency that is too high for most people to hear. Well actually, most people over 20 years of age. It was actually designed by some kids so that they could send texts to each other without alerting their teachers. Now it's set to become the next big ringtone. Go figure!
Check out this article for more info.
Or for a good laugh, go to this site to listen to a sample of the silent ringtone. Yvette had to put her head right next to the speaker but she insists that she can hear it - I think it's another internet prank! :o)

Life Without Internet

Maybe it's a sign, or fate dealing me another bad card in a terrible hand. But our ADSL internet at home has been down since Saturday! It's hard to believe how much we use the internet, be it Skype or GoogleTalk to chat to friends or family across the world, emailing, or even just to surf for rubbish when there's nothing to do. And while it doesn't seem to have curtailed my blogging, it's sad to say but I have actually been making special trips to work to post blogs! To comfort myself, I say that it's for all of my fans out there! In reality, it's another sign of my blog addiction and deteriorating mentality, all bought about by impending heart surgery.

The other way of looking at it, is that maybe a higher power is preparing me for hospital etc by slowly weaning me off the things that I am going to miss. If that's the case, I don't think I'm going to survive very well.......

A Present for Me?

One of the guys left a prez on my chair in my office. It’s big, 30cm x 30cm x 20cm. So sweet. I’m so excited. But it’s been hard to have a conversation with Yvette ever since, because every thirty seconds is filled with “can I open it?”. I’m enjoying teasing her, but the constant questioning is beginning to grind me down. I manage to hold on until after dinner (a luscious 600g prime rib steak - another tick off the list of foods to be eaten before my surgery), before finally relenting. Inside is a care pack (as listed by the generous little angel):
- indulgence for me (chocolate)
- indulgence to share (romance biscuits)
- nose care (hospital tissues suck)
- hand care (we always need a wet one)
- wound healer (it will make it look better)
- reading material (FHM was sold out – perhaps this might be better for Yvette).

What can I say? Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! :o)

Funny Friends

My last day at work before surgery is over, and in a way I’m glad. It has been so hectic trying to get everything finished and organised. You don’t realise how much time the little things take until they’re all listed on a small yellow sticky pad.

It’s hard leaving work for a couple of months, I guess this brings home the fact that I might need to get a life! Or that my workplace is a really fun place. I like to think it’s the latter. What makes it so enjoyable are all the guys. Not a day goes by without some laughter, tears, stupidity, and general craziness. It’s hard to say thanks to everyone for making it such a cool place, but I’m gonna miss the little square girl, the crazy alcoholic redhead (who makes me sick everytime I drink with her!), the wannabe Queen of the World, the nasty old witch, Miss walk everywhere, choirgirl, the girl that eats nothing but sugar, Princess Hawaii, the woman who always causes tearoom discussions to descend into smut and playgirl. And yes, there is a ridiculous imbalance in the number of females to males at work! There are some boys though, and I’ll miss them just the same. See you all soon guys! :o)

Bonjour le Swiss

Today I got my first visitors from Switzerland! This seems like a random country for a guest to visit my blog - since the Swiss have all that good chocolate and skiing, so they aren't noted for blogging. However, I have no doubt that it's one of my bestest buddies visiting - and it's about time too!! I told you about my blog weeks ago - shows how much you care! :oP

Anyway, it's nice to know that my friend has dropped by. She never fails to make me laugh, usually because she is so uncoordinated. And she's hot too - except she has a big bum! haha Well anyway, you rate a special mention - jus because now I have your flag on my blogcounter.

Photograph Model for an Hour

After several bumps and mis-starts, Yvette has arranged for me to get my all important topless photographs taken professionally. Yvette found the photographer in the phonebook - and was drawn to her because in a previous incarnation she was a medical researcher, just like me. And also, she didn't sound as stuck up as some of the other professional snappers! Or charge $500 for one photo!!

The day has been jampacked, with meeting after meeting. I pop into the salon to get my hair trimmed for the shoot. The counter chick nearly dies when she hears about my heart, but my stylist just shrugs it off like yesterday's news. Unfortunately my hectic schedule leaves me running late, so I don't have time to prepare myself properly. I arrive home to pick up Yvette, who has spent the entire day picking out special clothes and putting on makeup, and hurriedly whack some moisturiser on my face, a bit of lipbalm, and then off we go.

We arrive at the photographer's, and have a quick chat. She seems very nice, talks alot, and has a wonderfully distinctive laugh. We head downstairs to the studio, and she explains that we'll take a heap of photos, some with my clothes on, some without, some with Yvette, some without. Damn - should have worn some better clothes! Mid session it's time to strip down to my chest. Deflatingly, the photographer doesn't really like the look, although she does snap a few shots. I ham up a few as well, looking at non-existent muscles while flexing my arm. Overall, maybe 5-6 topless shots, and 20-30 others. There better be a good one of my unscarred chest!

During the photoshoot I am actually quite relaxed. I normally hate photos taken of moir, but in this case the photographer's friendliness made the entire experience enjoyable.

Unfortunately the photos won't be ready until after the surgery because she has a big backlog. But I don't mind that so much, at least my chest has now been forever engraved in time - although there are also the photos from the time we stayed in the spa suite while on holidays last year........

Painaphobic

Having a definite surgery date has basically meant that the only thing filling my waking (and sleeping) thoughts is my operation! And I am %^$#@^% scared! Not because I think that anything will go wrong, because I have complete faith in the surgeon and the nurses. But because of the pain! All I can think about is the intense pain I am going to be feeling for the next few weeks. Excruciating, sharp, endless, throbbing pain. Sound like I’m a wuss? Probably. Over-reacting? Possibly. But a boy scout is always prepared. I hope they’re stocked up on morphine for when I get there – I’m gonna need it!

Magic Weight Loss Diet

In one of my earlier posts I described one of the joys of being Australian-Chinese, taking onboard Chinese traditions into everyday life. I’m referring to the restrictive recovery diet. Basically the Chinese classify foods as being dok (poison), or being heaty or cooling (and not in the chilli sense of heat). So basically, after my surgery I’m not to eat any foods that are any of these. Red meat is considered poison (why it’s poison only after surgery, but not before, is a complete mystery). I’ve learnt that eggs are not to be eaten post-surgery or they will make my wound pus. Apparently, my mom’s twin sister’s sister-in-law ate eggs after her surgery and her’s became pussy! (eww, on both accounts!). I am allowed to eat chicken, but in addition to only being able to eat female chickens, they also aren’t allowed to have laid eggs before. Fish is ok, but only fish that have scales (I thought all fish had scales, apparently not). Basically, it’s looking like I’m going to be left on a diet of fruit and vegetables! I have a feeling that I am going to lose some serious weight on this diet!! And it’s going to be expensive – the only fruit I eat is bananas, and they are selling for more than $11 per kg at the moment!

Panic Attack

I’ve only two days of work left, and there is so much to organise! I have meetings scribbled onto my wall planner filling most of the two days, and a tonne of emails to write. My inbox has been overflowing for the last two weeks, and there are so many emails I haven’t replied to recently (sorry anyone who I haven’t replied to yet – they’re coming!). My desk looks like a whirlwind has hit it, there are pieces of paper everywhere! One good piece of news to emerge out of the chaos, my boss has offered to buy me lunch tomorrow. My choice of restaurant. I ask around and I think I’ve found one of the most expensive eateries in the city! At least I’ll enjoy my last supper at work. :o)

Visitors Galore

Seems like there is a run-out sale on airfares to Australia at the moment. My mom’s identical twin sister is coming over to visit from overseas. She is fast – booked her ticket today and is coming on Saturday. She would have come earlier but she has a lunch date on Friday! My aunty is awesome, and I can’t wait to see her! Everything they say about identical twins is true – when they are together it’s like something magical. Also, something very painful to the ears – they don’t shut up! :o) Her daughter who is currently working in London was also hoping to come, but unfortunately can’t. It’s sad I won’t see my cousin, she’s very funny and I don’t see her enough. Hopefully I’ll pay her a visit in the UK next year instead. My mom’s younger sister is also flying in later on in the month, just for the night. Two is trouble, three is more than a crowd. Three of them together is a disaster! I’m going to get myself some earmuffs in preparation. My brother is also coming back from the UK some time soon, it will be good to have some male company in the house!

Two of mom’s bestest friends, who live in Hong Kong, are also very keen to come and visit. They are the loveliest couple, and we’ve known them since I was a little tacker. They’ll probably make their way over later in the month also.

Yvette’s family are heading over from overseas in the middle of next month for Christmas. The oyster farmer told us a great story about in-laws on the weekend. He saw his mate walking his dog on the weekend, and thirty minutes later he saw his mate still walking the dog, in the same place. When he asked why he was walking the dog in circles, his mate replied that the in-laws were visiting! In preparation for their arrival, Yvette’s mother has asked me to start buying her lottery tickets – I think she’s hoping to win some spending money before she arrives!

I have to say that it’s overwhelming that so many people are coming over to visit. It’s certainly going to be hectic, but also a lot of fun. I just hope that everyone doesn’t try and make me laugh, I imagine that four broken ribs will make it very painful!

Surgery Time

Well it has finally arrived. Got the phonecall today from the hospital, my surgery date has been set for Tuesday 14th November. Exactly one week from now! I have to go into hospital on Friday for a pre-op checkup, and then check into Hotel L'Hospitale Royale on Monday.

It's funny, I was a little annoyed that the hospital didn't give me a date for surgery when I first saw the surgeon. But in hindsight, that was probably a really good thing, because its meant that I haven't really thought about the operation much at all over the last few weeks. But now it hits me like a hammer, next Tuesday! I'm freakin out! I'm pretty nervous, and trying not to think about it is actually making me think about it more. No wonder I have made so many posts today, it's my way of distracting myself from the inevitable.

There's so much to do, and now so little time. Where to begin?

150!!

Blogging is becoming an intense addiction - it seems that I am putting my whole life onto this thing! Someone was even worried that I might have had an accident over the weekend because I hadn't blogged for a day! Let me reassure you, there is no fear of that happening - for those of you who know me, they'd agree that I suffer from a serious case of verbal diarhoeaa!!

Being a blogging virgin, I expected that I would be lucky to attract about 20 people to my blog before my surgery. Today I reached 150!! Now I'm really bewildered as to who you all are, but thanks all the same for coming to visit! I've been posting lots of photos lately - so I wonder if that has drawn people in, like moths attracted to the light.

The cool thing about the neocounter is that I can look up statistics of who has visited (well from which country anyway) and when. It's a little bit different to the neocounter displayed on the blog however, since it logs all viewings of my blog - including multiple visits from the same IP address on the same day (such as me posting blogs - or me trying to artificially increase my blogcounter!). This means that it has a slightly higher count than the blogcounter. But as you can see, for the month of October (the blogcounter started on the 19th) the top visiting counties are Australia, UK and USA.

In November however, there is a real battle between my Aussie friends and the UK, and surprisingly Canada! Obviously my friends in Australia aren't pulling their weight!!

I'm feeling rather popular, but a famous quote bursts my bubble: "There are lies, damn lies and then statistics". Regardless of this, I could spend hours looking at these statistics! I now want 200 visitors before my surgery! :o)

Bye Bye Oysters!

The drive home marks a sad goodbye to a wonderful, albeit short, trip away. As we drive along the winding roads toward home, we say farewell to the scenery, and the oysters!

Afternoon Snack Surprise

After a heavy day of trying not to over-exert myself (which was funnily enough pretty exhausting), it was time for an afternoon snack before heading home. What’s on the menu? Oysters!

We’re back at the oyster farm, and there are three or four other groups of people oystering away. The owner is surprised to see us again, and jokes that he doesn’t want to serve us! After a bit of banter, he relents and we have a dozen oysters naturale to eat now, and a dozen unshucked to take home for the parents. While we’re eating, he’s telling other customers about our oyster eating antics. Given that most people are eating a dozen at most, I guess it’s understandable that our tally of 6 dozen oysters yesterday seems gigantic! The oysters are so good and within minutes they’re gone. Yvette and I look at each other, and in a couple of seconds we have another dozen oysters to devour. I joke that we must be his biggest customers this weekend, which to our surprise the owner replies that in fact we actually aren’t. I’m quite disappointed, until he tells us that the other group that have eaten more than us were a group of ten people! So per person, we’re still on top. After a final friendly chat with the owner, we’re off back home.

We only get a couple of hundred meters down the road when I realise that we have to turn back, because I want to buy a shucking knife – I’m sick of using butter knives to open oysters at home. I get back to the oyster farm, and the owner asks me in disbelief what I’m doing back. In fact, he shouts at me as soon as I get out of the car! I tell him I want another 5 dozen oysters. The customers in the window who he is currently serving are shocked when he tells them that we’ve eaten 9 dozen oysters in a day. I think he is relieved when I tell him I’m joking, and I just want an oyster knife. Transaction completed, we say our goodbyes for the final time. I like these guys, I’ll be back again for sure after my surgery.

Final oyster tally, Rog – 63 ½ oysters. Yvette – 34 ½ oysters.

A Day of Adventure

I’ve been looking forward to getting outside in the fresh air after being wrapped up in protective cotton wool for the last three weeks. And where better than one of my favourite places. The grey clouds overhead look ominous, but we head off none the less.

Our first stop is a nice little beach looking out upon the mountain range that forms the backdrop to this entire National Park. We find a spiny little sea urchin washed up on the sand, which Yvette wants to take home.










Our next stop is a beautiful secluded little cove. A calm swell drives the waves gently in, and we sit down for several minutes to relax. We come across a big fat Pacific Seastar lying on the rocks – I hope it shrivels up out of the water, the little buggers have invaded Australia and are destroying our ocean habitats!










Next we head upon a short walk to get to a hidden bay. The walk is a little strenuous, as it heads up a cliff, and Yvette insists on leading the way. She sets off at snail’s pace, wary of allowing me to over-exert myself. At the rate we’re walking, I’m more likely to fall asleep! After a lot of time, but not much effort, we reach the bay, and it’s wonderful.

A big rock sits near the waters edge, with its mouth wide open as if it’s giving us all a warm welcome. The water itself is crystal clear, and a forest of kelp lines the foreshore and beyond. A wonderful place to go for a snorkel. A couple of young girls hop into the water, and let us know loud and clear just how cold the water is however!










We climb up the cliffside to find the next bay. It’s a little bit steep, so Yvette insists upon stopping every few meters. It’s probably justified this time, I think mom would be frantic if she saw me now! On our journey we come across an unusual tree, bearing ghostly faces upon its branches. We make it halfway up, when the sun bursts out from behind the clouds for the first time today. Yvette enjoys the sudden warmth so much that she immediately lies down to sunbake on the rockface. I’m left alone to admire the stunning view – the beautiful light blue ocean crashing against fire-red cliffs. The rocky landscape provides a wonderful backdrop to the bay.










After basking in the sunlight for some time, we follow the yellow arrows painted upon the rocks further up the cliff. It is becoming increasingly obvious that I can’t go on any further, so Yvette uncaringly continues on her own. How unfair! A little bit further on, she reaches a wall of stone that needs to be climbed. I’m missing all the fun! Yvette finally decides that it’s not much fun exploring on her own, so she comes back down and we head off towards our starting point. We descend the cliff at a different point, and make our way around the jagged coastline. The masses of kelp along the waters edge draw Yvette’s attention, so she’s off to photograph them. I find a nice spot to sit down and wait. It turns out I’m surrounded by hundreds of big red anemones, lining the rocks. Out of the water they look like big red globs of jelly!










All too soon, it’s time to head back. The walk back up the cliff to the car is a little bit tough, and being overtaken by four young kids really hurts my pride! But I make it back to the car without managing to make myself puff too hard.

A Coastal Wonderland

One of the best things about living on the coast, the amazing scenery! We’ve spent the day wandering along the coastline. It’s a combination of sweeping beaches of soft sand, and rugged rocky cliffs. Hugging the rocks are lots of different types of seaweed, which Yvette thinks looks good enough to eat (eww!). Digging about in the many rockpools reveals a plethora of sea creatures. Starfish, crabs, anenemenomes (that’s a tongue twister! Try anemones) limpets, clams, and other shellfish including the odd abalone. I wish everyday could be like this. I hope that I recover from my surgery quickly, I can’t wait to get back here again.

Oyster lovers' paradise

The funny thing about being an ABC (Australian-born Chinese) is the clash of cultures. It can sometimes be confusing mixing heritages, at other times it’s extraordinarily interesting, and sometimes it’s just plain funny! For example, it seems that after my surgery there is a list of foods that I am not allowed to eat for three months, because according to Chinese tradition, they will be bad for my recovery. This ranges from things like soy sauce (which will make my scar darken) to ginger (which will cause little ginger-like nodules to grow in my scar). Others things I’m not allowed to eat includes beef and lamb, as well as chickens of the male sex (go figure that one out!). And also, all shellfish. What are some of my favourite foods? Naturally, all shellfish – mudcrab, crayfish, scallops, squid, prawns and oysters! And summertime is just around the corner – the best time for seafood!

Luckily, Yvette is as sweet as she is sexy, and has organised for a weekend away at an oyster farm on the coast. I’m excited and relieved. I want to eat 3 months worth of oysters before my surgery! We know the oysters from this farm well, because they are seriously some of the best we have ever eaten! I can’t wait, I can’t wait! Oysters, oysters, oysters, yum yum in my tum tum.

Two hours from home, taking a fun drive on a nice windy and relatively quiet road, we arrive at the oyster farm. There are three or four groups of tourists here ordering oysters to eat. They’re in for a treat.









We order our ultrafresh oysters for lunch and dinner, a dozen extra large and three dozen normal size. We also grab a kilogram of mussels.

We get to Shucker’s Cottage where we’re staying the night, which is part of the oyster farm. It’s nice and isolated, perfect place for rest and relaxation. Inside it’s spacious, neat and quaint. But who cares about that – oyster time!!









We tuck in to the oysters. And they are awesome! Raw, fresh from the ocean, juicy tasty oysters, salty and sweet at the same time! The best bit – the juice. Anticipation has made me ravenous, and in about 20 minutes, oyster tally is Rog – 24 oysters! Looks like our oysters for dinner are gone!

We head back to the farm and pick up another two dozen oysters for dinner. The owner laughs at our oyster eating antics! Yvette finds a two dollar coin on the ground in front of the store, and gives it to the owner. He doesn’t want to take it – finder’s keepers, he says. After a little bit of to-ing and fro-ing, we end up with two extra oysters.

After an afternoon of adventures around coves, bays and beaches, it’s time for dinner. The menu: oysters naturale, oyster shooters (oysters with vodka), grilled oysters topped with bacon, parmesan cheese and tabasco, followed by mussel and atlantic salmon pasta. Absolutely delicious! Oyster tally is Rog – 44 oysters!










Supper time. The leftover oysters have no chance. Oyster tally for the day is Rog – 51 ½ oysters! (I had to fight for the last half!) Yvette – a measly 22 ½.