Ahhh, The Good 'Ole Days

Growing up, my older brother and I did not get along. Actually, that is putting it mildly, we hated each other. Well, I guess we got along somewhat up until I was about 8 years old, then it just went downhill from there. I have vivid memories of the knock-down-drag-out fights that we would have. My older brother was much bigger than I and very athletic. So I would use whatever I could get my hands on the hit back at him. I remember one time, my mother had sent me us to church together as a "punishment" and he threw me out of the moving car on the way! Those of you who grew up with me are very aware of how badly we fought.
Now that we are older and after we had spent many years on our own. He lived in Arizona for about 8 years and there he matured alot and claims he "found God" there (apperently he lives there or maybe has a vacation home...). As the years passed, we started to get closer and he is now the family member I talk to the most. I talk to him more than my parents sometimes. He has since moved to Orlando and is not too far away. I see him 5 - 6 times a year, which is nice. We really get along very well now.
So now, he calls me with his girl problems and when he is excited about a hockey game that his team one, or to vent about work, which is all fine and good, but sometimes he shares too much. A few months ago, he called me to ask me if I ever had hemmorroids. I never have (in case you were wondering). He then proceeded to describe his symptoms, and yes, he did, in fact, have hemmorroids. Then a couple of days later my mother calls me and asks if I had heard the news. I said, "What news?" and she said (this is totally true) "Your brother busted his asshole." In a very matter-of-fact way. So after talking to my mom, I hung up with her and called my brother. Apparently he had been doing sqats at the gym and they symptons he had described to me had gotten worst and when he bent down to do his first set of squats, he felt something "pop". He went on to tell me how he bled like hell and had to rush out of the gym and called my mom because he thought he was hemmoraging. My mom told him to go to the doctors. He did and got his very first tube of Preparation H. This incident happened on a Saturday afternoon. Well, when he woke up the next day, he was still bleeding, but he felt he had to go to church. So he stuffed a tube sock in the crack of his ass and went to church. Why he told me this, I have no idea. Why he told ANYONE, I have no idea. I can't help myself, but I feel I need to share this with y'all.
Sometimes I wish for the good 'ole days of us just calling each other names and trying our best to act like the other does not exist. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that we have grown closer and he that feels comfortable enough to share things with me. I just wish there was some kind of medium ground. I guess its either all or nothing.