Not as good as a comic

Allow me to rewrite a scene from Born Again, the awesome Daredevil story, starring me.

In Born Again, Daredevil's alter ego more or less has a mental collapse. The Kingpin helps, but the character falls apart. And at one point, after he escapes certain death, he is wandering New York. He gets hit by a car and later stabbed. You see him bent over, gritting his teeth, and he thinks:

"It's not just the knife wound -- it's that rib of mine that popped like a wishbone when the Kingpin slugged me -- it had the decency to stay where it belongs -- until that car hit me ..."

He then goes on to save the city and reunite with his hot girlfriend.

In my rewrite, I am always on the edge of a mental break.

 "It's not just the Friedreich's ataxia   -- it's that rib of mine that popped like a wishbone when I fell over the arm of my chair and whacked it on my iPhone -- it had the decency to get better -- until I rammed my chest into my keyboard tray at work."

For the record my rib didn't "popped like a wishbone." But that sounds better than bruised/cracked.

I am pretty confident I will not save the city and reunite with a hot girlfriend.

Stupid ears

This happened Tuesday, and I decided it is an apt microcosm for my life.

I have decided I should use my microphone more. It works when I am with just one person but have been disappointed with its failure to help in meetings. My audiologist did not expect this either. Of course, she also told me very authoritatively that my problem was the auditory nerve, which sounds reasonable.

However, after my neurology appointment I am pretty sure  my auditory nerve is normal. The fairly unique problem in FA hearing loss is the connection between the brain and the auditory nerve. It is messed up. She could have learned this is she called the neurologist as I suggested. But  I digress.

To force my use of the mic, I put it on my lanyard. to make sure it doesn't drop in the toilet, I take my lanyard off when sitting down. However, this raises the prospect of the lanyard knocking out a hearing aid. Which happened.

Fortunately, it did not fall in the toilet, just on the ground.

My shoe then pushed it into the other stall, so unreachable to me. Fame could have gotten it, but I am told dogs eat hearing aids.

So I had to go find someone to get my hearing aid.

But the hearing aid was still out, which makes it kind of pointless to use the mic.

No comparison

I hate Friedreich's ataxia ... still.

The latest issue, which is by no means new, is that I am comparing myself with my brother, who does more manually.

I might be able to do more, but I don't have to. And when I try, I usually fail.

FA is so personal that what I can do, he may not be able to do. And vice versa.

Hate it.

Not sullen

A few years ago, a friend asked how old the niece and nephew I live with were.

Eleven and 12, I told her.

Well, you still have a few years before they become jerks, she said, not that she had met them. She just meant before they become stereotypical sullen teens.

They have not become sullen. None of my nephews or nieces have ever been sullen to me, a factor I have attributed my siblings' parenting, my cluelessness or awesomeness. Take your pick.

But now, I need to reevaluate.

It could still be my awesomeness. Who am I kicked? That doesn't fade. I suppose it could still be cluelessness. My siblings, though? Not part of the latest good teen story.

A friend of my niece's is living with us this year.

I coughed at breakfast Saturday and spilled some tea.

She got up, and I thought I had driven her off.

Instead, she got up, got some paper towels and took care o the spillage.

Bad year

I had a recurrence of A-fib on Monday. We called the cardiologist, and she wasn't concerned. We went in Tuesday, and we decided it was probably because I was dehydrated.

So all is good, but lordy, do I hate 2018.

I loathe cold weather but wouldn't at all mind if it was January 2019.

We're nine months into the year. For six, I have had issues with my heart or the meds they gave me to fix my heart. For one month, I was without my chair. That leaves January and February when it cold, gloomy, depressing.

What next?