my first day as the Easter BunnyWritten by keith merritt
My first day as Easter Bunny. The set is moving. There are animatronics. No one told me there’d be animatronics A rabbit with a busted plaster ear eternally chases cabbages, which are inexplicably spinning, spinning. A tiny farmer, armed with a pitchfork ( a real pitchfork, mind you, on a children’s set---madness. ) a farmer futilely tries to defend his garden. One of his arms looks like it was broken and set wrong; it sticks out at a weird angle. There is fake green grass, little white picket fences, a shed with a big ornate garden chair for kids to sit and pose with Easter Bunny. There are no kids yet. One young guy is manning fort. As I approach, I think, ‘he doesn’t know my face, I could still walk away’...walk away, it echoes in some dim part of my mind that still has dignity. But I know this is my destiny. Appointed by God, or drilled into my psyche from childhood; some forgotten moment when mommy laughed and smiled at an unpremeditated antic. A stumble, a surprised look....resulting in laughter. A clown is born. And so here we are.
I tell guy my name. We go to ‘suit up’. There are hidden places in malls, walls with keyholes, that open into large empty spaces used to store stuff. The suit is there. I must admit it is beautiful. Pristine, first snow of winter white. Soft, lovely fur. Except for one little brown spot on belly. The guy tells me ‘There was an ice cream incident. “ I put on suit. It fits perfectly, of course. All white, with a pink belly, body of suit alone makes me feel like Sasquatch. I picture me walking, big arm swings in woods, grainy image, I look back over my shoulder, Wild Easter bunny , showing contempt for humankind. The feet are enormous boats of white spongy material. They go on right over my old boots. (the same boots that stepped in poop of Shaq oneals dog, at another weird job. ) The bunny hands consist of thumbs and one big finger. And then head. It’s a really nice one. Shiny, pink nose, big dopey red smiley mouth, expression perpetual surprise, amazed with happiness that this child showed up, this old best friend. When you put on head for first time, you think ‘maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.’ . The head is hot. Let’s start like that. Go into your attic, rip some of that pink, fluffy stuff off walls, wrap it tightly around your head. Now go outside on a hot summer day and cavort, Dance around, wave, hop, gesture, shake your head. Imagine there’s a government sniper watching you through a scope with orders to shoot if you stop moving. This is Easter Bunny experience. But I don’t want to give impression it wasn’t fun. I found it immensely so. But then I’m weird.
Nurses, Bedpans And X-Rated Hospital GownsWritten by Rev. James L. Snyder
Tuesday last I awoke from my nightly slumber with terrific pain in my chest, much like an elephant break-dancing on my chest. It was painful just to breathe, but like trooper I am, I shrugged it off and set about my daily routine. Rather than improving, pain intensified.
I went to my office and started day's work only to find it almost impossible. Fortunately, my one daughter is a paramedic with fire department and other is an EMT with county ambulance service. Sitting at my desk, I saw vehicles pull into church office parking lot.
Within a few minutes, my office was filled with EMTs and paramedics. (Someone and I'll mention no name, only to say this person who lives at same address as I, squealed on me.) Their unified mission was convincing a rather stubborn preacher to go to hospital. According to their examination, it was possible I was having a heart attack.
Who knew I even had a heart?
Each took turns persuading me that I needed to go to hospital. Their strategy was to wear me down. To my credit, it took half a dozen to do job. The ambulance was outside and in a few minutes, so they assured me, they could have me in emergency room.
"What about it, Reverend," a good- looking paramedic said, "how about going to hospital?"
"Okay," I finally agreed, "but I'm not going in ambulance, I've already mortgaged my house."
I was escorted to my paramedic daughter's jeep and away we went to ER.
When we arrived at hospital, they rushed me into emergency room and started working on me.
After a few hours, I came to myself (which is a shock in and of itself) and discovered my chest had been shaven. Now, what I need to know is, once shaved always shaved? Just a theological ruse.
In examining my chest, I discovered I had 17 nipples of which all but two were hooked up to some monitoring system. When a person, such as I, is in a dazed confused condition, this is enough to create a heart attack.
The medical staff put me through all tests they had in their diagnostic arsenal. Evidently I had crammed night before because I passed all their tests with flying colors. Although I passed tests pain in my chest continued.
During my medical odyssey, I discovered three things.
The first has to do with nurses, which are first line of defense in a medical situation. Sometimes n and I'm not complaining, just grateful n they are only lines of defense. Certainly, they are link to everything a person needs.
It is extremely important to keep on good terms with these angels of mercy. For one, they are ones who wield needles in ER.