Ahhh....FREAK OUT!

Okay, honestly people, I am FREAKING OUT! About a month ago I started having panic attacks about my leg. I seemed to tone them down for a while, but now they have come back in full surge this week. I know it must be because I'm going to New York City next week to meet with Dr. Healey, and it will have been five months since my last visit, but still.

I'm feeling great, I'm doing great, and I know that because my cancer was low-grade and I had a wide-sweeping excision that recurrence is very unlikely. I keep telling myself this rationally, but it doesn't seem to work on me emotionally and I couldn't fall asleep until three in the morning last night. I've been meditating and doing positive visualization, but the panic still flows. Perhaps it's because I am doing so well and I'm attached to this feeling of strength and health.

I also know it's normal to be worried before check-ups, but these physical waves of fear and anxiety have got to stop!

::Sigh:: I upped my postive counter-attack this morning: smudged with sage, got out all my healing stones, and did a fear-releasing meditation, so we'll see.

I probably just need to give up coffee. ;-)

Check out my flyer!

I can't believe I haven't blogged about this yet, but I started teaching a Restorative Yoga class in January and absolutely love it! It's been really rewarding teaching yoga again, and it's helped my own practice grow too, since you have to be at your best in order to teach your best.

If you're in Denver, I'd love to see you in a class. It's open to all, but FREE for cancer survivors. Yay! You can see my flyer by clicking here.

Another reason I love France

Besides making excellent wine and croissants, and having an aesthetically pleasing country, today I read a story on Slate.com that gave me another reason to love the French:

France's health minister may encourage napping at work. According to the AP, he "called for further studies and said he would promote on-the-job naps if they prove useful." Translated quote: "Why not a nap at work?" Rationale: Most French people say bad sleep at night has impaired their job performance. Critique: You want to know what impairs French job performance? Try their 35-hour work week and a gazillion weeks of guaranteed vacation. Napping is par for the course.

The writer seems to be making fun of France’s health minister, but I for one salute him. My first post-college job was at as a research assistant at an excellent company, Policy Studies, Inc. They truly respected their employees and offered health club membership, great benefits, three weeks vacation AND…a nap room! To show for it, PSI had a loyal and productive team. The nap room was my favorite part of the perks. I loved that room. Being that I had also just started performing at Impulse Theater and stayed up late three nights a week hanging out with the cast after rehearsal and shows, I became good friends with the nap room, and frankly, I don’t know how I could have done my job without it. All I needed was 15-20 minutes on my lunch break to catch up, and then I was a new woman. Of course, the better option would have been to not stay up until the wee hours half the week, but I was 22, so that’s what I did.

Now I’m 30, and because, I’m so old, I get tired midday even with consistent and healthy sleep patterns. Since I work from home, the past two days I started a new thing and been allowing myself a 20-minute nap, and I have to say, my nap-experiment has proved highly productive: I’ve been getting as much work done in the afternoons as in the morning, instead of dragging and feeling unfocused.

I say, the French have it right on this one. Hooray for naps!

Sacrebleu!

Though we've been back almost a week now, here, at last, is the report of our Paris vacation (it was FABULOUS!!!):

First, "Sacrebleu" was the one French word that Brian picked up during our time in Paris. He said it often, and inappropriately. It wasn't until our last day we learned that the word translates to "gosh" or "by Jove." Brian can now be a proud American knowing he went through the streets of Paris, loudly shouting what basically means, "golly gosh!!!"

We arrived Wednesday, got settled and napped, and had a lovely dinner with Brian's aunt and uncle.

Thursday we got up late and went for brunch for omelets that Bri's uncle promised were greasy and delicious. I had an omelet sans gambon, and somehow Brian--who tried to order and omelet avec gambon--ended up with a ham sandwich. That afternoon we went to the outdoor sculpture garden at the Rodin Museum, and did a little shopping to celebrate The Sales. At night we went out for dinner--Brian got half a chicken; I got a plate of cheese. (I ate A LOT of cheese last week.) Then, feeling tired and smoked-out of the bar scene, we retired to our room for an evening of trying to download Season 2 of Weeds. (I'm not saying I'm proud this is how we spent a night in Paris, I'm just saying we were tired, and it happened.)

Friday we got up late, ate the obligatory croissant (I averaged two a day--yummy!) and cappuccino, and walked along the Seine river. Or rather, Brian walked along the Seine, and I got pushed by him in my chair. I have to say, wheelchair is THE WAY TO SEE PARIS. It was great. I didn't have to worry about tripping over cobblestones, got to take in the sites and bond with children and dogs, and didn't get tired!

That was a lovely day--we saw the awe-inspiring Notre Dame, and even found the vegetarian restaurant (le Grenier de Notre Dame) I had researched, which turned out to be healthy and incredibly delicious. However, after sharing a bottle of wine for lunch, the wheelchair ride home along the cobblestone streets became quite the adventurous ride. Yikes!

Friday night was the wine-tasting party at Brian's uncle's place. Fun.

Saturday was jam-packed: In the morning we got a guided tour of the Marais district, which was one of the highlights of the trip for me. It helped that our guide was a witty Brit full of juicy tid-bits of 15th-17th century gossip!

That afternoon we dined at the Eiffel tower, came home and collapsed for one hour, before leaving again to the gorgeous Hotel Paiva off the Champs Elysees where the big 60th bash was held. It was very fancy, with the women all wearing beautiful gowns, and jewels the size of my eyeballs. At dinner I sat next to a German international real-estate developer who had lived in NYC, London, Paris, and Tokyo, spoke four languages, and made me feel really, really lazy. We were entertained by a Swedish pop-opera star who shared a few classical opera songs that made Brian cry. And we all danced to hits like "YMCA" until four in the morning. That's right: I danced on my 30th birthday! Woo hoo!

Sunday, we were all tired and got a late start, which meant we had to tour the Louvre in an hour (practically sacrilegious, right?), but got to see the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, and the crown jewels. Not too shabby.

That night we had dinner and more dancing at a wonderful Moroccan restaurant where we were entertained by a belly dancer, and got our picture taken with a real live camel.

Paris was sweet. I can't wait to go back!