One of the things that I’m now doing a lot of in my job lately is asking questions about health, safety, and risk. What kind of obligation does a state entity have to monitor the health and safety of a person with a disability who is self-directing their own care? How does a state agency establish consistent standards of assessing threats to health and safety? More importantly, how does a bureaucracy balance its monitoring responsibilities with a basic respect for the dignity of risk?

It’s during discussions like these, when I’m often the only person with a visible disability in the room, that I feel deeply conflicted. As a human services agency, we are accountable to at least some degree for the well-being of the people we serve. But as someone who is served by that same agency, I know that I would resent any attempts to judge the amount of risk I can safely accommodate in my life. Was it exceedingly risky for me to go to Europe? To have a friend pour wine down my g-tube? To be left in the care of my siblings (one of whom used to love grabbing my hand and bringing it into contact with my face while admonishing me to stop hitting myself)? Is my objective tolerance for risk lower simply because I’m closer to life’s precipice?

Self-direction is not just about hiring your own attendants and getting to decide when to eat dinner. It’s about shaping the course of your life, even if that course sometimes veers uncomfortably close to the jagged edges.

I had a chance to watch the episode of This American Life featuring Mike Phillips that I mentioned here previously. It’s brilliant. Ira Glass never allows Mike’s disability to become a source of morbid fascination, but he is frank in describing the precariousness of Mike’s circumstances. The conflict between Mike and his mom over his desire for more independence mirrors the experiences of many of us with severe disabilities and it’s a conflict that is fraught with good intentions. Glass understands this and gives both Mike and his mom sympathetic portrayals. And I’m glad to see the media engage in honest discussions of disability and sexuality. And Mike’s choice of Johnny Depp as his proxy voice is perfect. Mike and everyone else involved in this production should be proud of what they accomplished here.

Thanks to certain anonymous sources for getting me a copy of the episode.

Gore Verbinski, the director of the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy, is going to direct a film based on the videogame Bioshock. If there can be such a thing as a film adaptation of a videogame that doesn’t suck, this could be it. The game’s plot is already cinematic in scope and the underwater Deco vibe would make for great sets. If the project can attract some recognizable talent, it might actually be worth seeing.

It’s costing me close to sixty dollars to fill up my van’s gas tank. My driving habits consist of little more than trips to and from work, so I’m not feeling the same hurt that’s being inflicted on so many suburban commuters. Still, I wish I could do something to ease my own dependence on my admittedly gas-guzzling vehicle. I don’t think a Prius can accommodate my wheelchair and walking the ten miles to and from work is not a realistic option. It might be time to take a cue from Inspector Gadget and invent that personal propeller-based flight system that is powered solely on my excess charm.