Bye Bye Corticos...
I've left you hanging a bit, haven't I? There's been so much going on, and yet so little.
Following a second synacthen test, carried out a month and a half after the first, the "made in myself" corticosteroids level proved satisfactory, Zeus allowed me to stop taking them. Once again, I am quite impressed by the professionalism and dedication of this team. I took the test on a Saturday morning, received and sent the results by email on Saturday evening, and... On Sunday, when I woke up, I had a message from Zeus. They're real killers, I told you.
Otherwise, the treatment continues to work, albeit more slowly. Progress is less dramatic than at the beginning, but it is real, allowing me to resume my activities in a "Chi va piano va sano" mode.
Choices
In November this was the second concert of the year for me with Cour Supreme at the Barde Atomique, everything went really well. I'd say I'm back to 90% of my old self. I'm just struggling a bit with the solos in the fastest songs, but that'll come back too. This illness really hampered me for a while, but it also gave me time to think about what I want to do in the coming months and years. For now, it's a kind of melting pot where the desire to write, the writing itself, the desire to broaden my musical horizons, home studio, possible new collaborations, and the desire to finally understand certain things, such as the corners of music theory that I haven't quite grasped yet, are all jostling for space.
I also found a YouTube channel that explains mathematical concepts in a simple and clear way, so I'm not going to become Einstein overnight, but finally understand, after 50 years, the how and why of a tiny part of the f the middle school math curriculum is pretty cool, even if it is a little late 😉 . Take it from a guy terrible at math.
Wolverine is back
More great news: the week after the concert, I got back Wolverine, aka JudgeMobile 2, aka my Mercedes S124 station wagon, which, like me, had been out of commission since late 2022 (due to a part that was no longer manufactured). The beast is in great shape. To celebrate, I bumped into a stupid parking pole while trying to park close to a wall so the car wouldn't be in the way. Now I have a dent in the door. What an IDIOT! I should have just left my car in the middle of the street and annoyed everyone else, like most people do in this narrow street. But it's such a joy to regain my mobility, to be free to go to Milly la Forêt for hot chocolate and buttery croissants or watch the glassblowers in Soisy sur Ecole, and, in this bubble isolated from everything else, feel the heat from their furnaces and take a break to watch their calm, precise movements give birth to pieces as beautiful as they are varied.
Leaving the glassworks, knowing that we were only a few kilometers away, we went to the “Claude François Museum,” his former home, Le Moulin. We stayed there for about two and a half minutes, just long enough to see that the guy really enjoyed himself: a superb house, a swimming pool, lawns, flowers, a huge plot of land, all surrounded by fields and woods. The tea room (the only real reason Marie and I had for stopping by, because Claude François... How could I put it? Meh...) wasn't any better. I spotted a slice of tarte Tatin for $15 and immediately turned on my heel. All in all, a pastry and a drink each would have cost us $50. We went home, stopped by our baker, picked up some Van Houten chocolate, a bottle of milk, and for about $10, I'm sure we had a much better time than at Le Glaude.
Happy Birthday Mr. Cancer
The end of this year is also a kind of anniversary, because at this time last year, I was experiencing the early stages of my cancer, my first warning signs, without yet understanding any of it. It's strange to think that so much has happened in just one year, that so many changes, people, and events have come and gone, all in a kind of fog caused in large part by the fatigue that overshadowed the frenzy with which everything unfolded. Marie gained two adorable new granddaughters, she lost her dog after trying everything to save him, she fought for months to get money owed to her, she supported me.
As for me, you know what I've been through and what I'm still going through, even if it's much less intense now. I'm slowly getting back on my feet, at my own pace. All of this has taught me not to automatically accept a bunch of imposed constraints, deadlines, etc., and to set my own, calmly, without forcing myself. In any case, whether you like it or not, it's the only way I can operate without feeling agitated or mentally overwhelmed. You quickly realize that, in the end, it doesn't change much for others: when people really need your skills, they understand and they wait. If not, they find someone else, and that's fine with me.
