Thank You Easter Bunny

Last night I tried (unsuccessfully) to blog while under the influence of Oxycodone.  After crafting the opening sentence no less than five times I gave up.  I might have continued to push if any of these attempts were at least consistent in topic.  Instead they ranged from the problem with Easter Bunnies that don't talk, to the worst shart of my life.  I was unable to get any of the topics out of first gear, so I just gave up and took an Ambien.  I woke up this morning with little recollection of the night before and the weird sensation that I'd gotten up in the middle of the night to ride the Schwinn.  The nurse informed me that we had wild storms last night; i just smiled and looked over at my bike.

My undoing seems to be the result of overzealous exercising.  Yesterday, despite getting winded on trips to the bathroom, I did 25 dips, 25 pushups and 30 crunches in the morning, later a couple of laps around the hospital, and finally I rode the Schwinn Comp for 25 minutes.  Each effort began in severe reluctance and ended out of breath, but the voice in my head kept reminding me that I'm determined to keep eating and exercising through all of this.

I really like listening to bluegrass when I ride bikes.  The rhythm, typically based on that of a train, makes me peddle faster.  It's irresistible; I can't keep myself out of rhythm with the music.  This habit used to be rather embarrassing when Missy and I had a gym membership.    I'd start doing squats, and inevitably something like Nelly would come on the radio.  I'd find myself powerless against squatting up and down to every beat of "It's Getting Hot in Here".  Anyhow yesterday I set the ipod to the Weary Boys, and began to whip up a frenzy on the bike.  Their preferred tempo tends to mimic that of a high speed commuter train as oppossed to a slower more sensible cargo train. When I got off the bike, it felt like a small man had been punching me in the stomach with each peddle stroke for the past 25 minutes.  Taking a deep breath, which I really felt like doing after this effort, hurt even more.  Gasping for air, I called the nurse, who called the doctor, who shook her head and told me to take it easy next time.

Today I'm feeling slightly better.  I still can't take a deep breath, but no need for painkillers.  Needless to say I've gotta switch bluegrass bands for a while.  The good news is that while I needed yet another blood transfusion due to low Hemoglobin, my platelets are up and my WBC (white blood cells) are up as well.  Once my counts return to normal I can go home. Perhaps I'm rounding the corner?  I'd love to get home in time for Easter, but its looking more like my reprieve will come a few days after. 

Which brings me to the Easter Bunny.  The Easter Bunny is creepy; plain and simple.  Right up there with mimes and clowns.  So I don't blame my kids at all for being freaked out by him/her/it.  In fact, as I'll explain later, I encourage them to be skeptical.  I relate this story as it was described to me by my wife, who took the boys to the mall last weekend for their first introduction to the Easter Bunny.

  

While Brogan (4 years old) attached himself with a vice-grip to the back of Missy's leg at the mere sight of the Easter Bunny, Ethan (2 years old) ran right up and introduced himself with confidence.  "Hi Easter Bunny"...nothing.  Just a silent wave from a fully grown stuffed animal wearing the same freaky smile he had on his face 10 minutes ago.  Still Ethan gave it one more try.  "Hi Easter bunny"...crickets, a blank stare and a hollow smile.  That's when poor Ethan decided it was time to run.  And I don't blame him.  I would have run too.  I once saw an episode of Cold Case where people in furry animal suits got together to rub on one another.  Anyhow, for some reason Ethan's distrust became Brogan's inspiration.  I like to think it's because Brogan has embraced the role of Big Brother Superhero.  He stepped out from behind mom's leg and boldly proclaimed that he, despite the obvious danger, would have his picture taken with the Easter Bunny.   He gingerly climbed onto the bunny's lap and forced a few twisted smiles towards the camera, then hopped off as quickly as he could.  As they left the mall, Ethan, perhaps emboldened by his brother's bravery, tried one more time to converse with the bunny...who remained cold as ice, smiling, and mute.  Thank you Easter Bunny.