Tonight I soaked my arms in Epsom salt for an hour so I could type again. I am writing a book on the theology of disability, and it’s going well enough that my finger and wrist joints swelled up from the strain. Today I had to calm down my son who only just fought his way out of an OCD spiral caused by being confined for too long at night on a road trip we took a year and a half ago. He was crying because he loves going to the Lamentations service on Good Friday and the late night Pascha service, but he has not yet recovered from the abject horror he experiences during late night car rides owing to that roadtrip. I…