My brother hogs the spotlight

I am working on two posts. One is about superheroes; the other involves Ouija boards, drinking games and chicks. But you won't read them tonight.

You also won't read about a longstanding problem with the church or about how my nephew responded to a heartfelt email from me with a similarly engaging note that was signed "sincerely, his full first and last name."

Or about these stories, which left me scared to ride and which made me think Big Brother might show up at my condo to make me work.

When I got in the van to come home today, Mom said: Somebody is always competing for attention. Your brother fell and hit his head and is going to the hospital in an ambulance. She knew little else, but he wasn't unconscious or anything.

My brother has Friedreich's ataxia, too.

The ride home was pretty quiet. Dad focused on the road; Mom was probably praying. I was talking to God, too, but I was using words Mom is not a fan of.

My first thought after Mom told me was: What the hell did he do?

This is not so much an indictment of my brother as of FA and probably every disability. My little sister met my brother at the hospital until Mom and his wife got there. She said he stood up to put on his coat and immediately thought: I probably shouldn't do this; I might fall.

No matter how long I am in a wheelchair, I will do stupid things. I just forget how limited I am. This evening I came back from a quick walk in the rain and was struggling to get my poncho off. I was bent forward and the poncho got stuck on my head and then it hit my wheelchair joystick, which I had neglected to turn off. All of a sudden, the back of my head smacked the door. It didn't hurt, but I could not figure out what happened at first. For a second, I thought Claren leaped into my lap.

My point is not to give Mom and everyone near heart attacks, but to say that one of the crap parts of disability is you can remember doing something one way easily. No one tells you when it becomes a dangerous way to do it. You learn by smacking your head.

And hopefully you survive to learn a new way to do that something.