Happy Birthday, Todd

It's been almost five years since I raced down I-35 to the hospital my stepbrother had been life-flighted to after rolling an SUV and being ejected from the vehicle. Nobody, and I mean nobody, expected him to survive the night.

And in a way, he didn't.



Before the accident, Todd's big issue was bipolar disorder. And he had it in a big way.

The problem was, when he was manic, it felt great at first. The low end of the manic phase is, from what I can tell, the ultimate natural high. The meds that kept everything even, the lithium and whatnot, were not pleasant. He told me it was 'like looking at the world through a veil.'



As the manic phase got too intense, he'd take a drink to take the edge off. And by drink, I mean as much as a case of beer at a sitting. Weed helped, too, up to a point.

Booze and pot were also the preferred self-medications for the depressive phase.



But they're the wrong tools for the job, and eventually Todd would end up hospitalized after a stint off his meds. And each time, it took more of the legit drugs to do the trick.

Mostly, though, Todd took stuff in stride. When he was in training as a mortician, I asked him why he'd want to do that, and his response was, 'People need to be taken care of after they're gone. And beyond cleaning shit up on the table, it's just sales and service.'

Having driven the meat wagon, you'd think seatbelts would be second nature*, but you're thinking from a different standpoint than someone who couldn't stand their meds and is higher than a freed balloon between the dope and the illness.

Since the accident? Well, hard to say. Todd doesn't talk, and a lot of times he doesn't seem to respond. He does more for his Mom than he'll do for a stranger, so something must still be going on. In the first year or two after his accident, when we'd visit him, he responded to things like Mo singing or Em reading him a story in ways he doesn't anymore. As I gather is usual in traumatic brain injuries, he has probably had strokes since then that account for physical deterioration and worsening control of his hands and legs.



Still, coming home for his birthday had to be a good thing. I can't imagine what it's like to be in there, whatever is left of his personality, but being at home among family has to be a step up from the nursing home.

And he did do some groaning as my other stepbrother and I lifted him from wheelchair to van for the return trip. Could be coincidence, but really, I doubt it. It may have just been a measure of discomfort or surprise, but something must still be going on.

*As you probably know, I'm about as libertarian as they come, but I'll throw down with anyone who thinks seatbelt laws are unreasonable. It's not just your life at risk, because if you end up unable to speak, walk, eat, or go to the bathroom on your own, someone else is going to have to take care of that for you. If you're lucky like Todd, it'll be people you love, but no matter what, it's more than just your problem.