No other diseases.

History of Picaboo. The clowns are not funny. is terrible. And I advise people to read - it's about us)

I am a district therapist. Yes, the primary link, which now, like everyone else, was thrown into the struggle against an incomprehensible infection.
Yes...
Apparently, people stopped magically dying from the rest.
Thanks for the coronavirus.
"Thank you" for coming home to a severe patient with cirrhosis of the liver, who at this inappropriate moment gave decompensation, and reassuring relatives that everything will be fine, knowing that it will not be well, and also knowing that even in my direction the hospital will not take her, because quarantine, "treat at the local", and I can no longer help when the swelling of the whole body grows, when a person periodically falls into psychomotor excitement from intoxication... "Thank you, coronavirus and the Ministry of Health, that she was taken to resuscitation, only when bleeding opened. Not saved...
"Thank you" when a patient with uncoverable pressure of 200/110 for a week can not be taken to the hospital.
"Thank you" for my patients, who after operations on the heart can not get to the cardiologist, because all the narrow specialists sent on vacation, and we DISTANCE (by phone) try with them (patients) to pick up a dose of warfarin (blood thinning), (because in the clinic they are also not allowed, and the blood for density can not be donated, and at home only in extreme necessity, which I every week for them and seek)...
“Thank you...”
I no longer have the strength to listen to the provisions of quarantine, I no longer have the strength to listen to the desperate requests of patients, which I can only fulfill by breaking into thirty-three pieces.
Thank you to everyone involved in this circus.
"Thank you" that I can't go as usual to call my patients over the age of 70 (most of whom), because I ride on the fork constantly and because it's inappropriate to drag this infection to the elderly, if not the case of life and death.
“Thank you”
I am tired...

The feeling is that between the first wave of the coronavirus and the second, there will be only 1 day - the day of voting on amendments to the Constitution.

Better around than under.

The vapor is such a huge iron box with a crew inside. The life of people in the box is monotonous, boring. There are no weekends, and the day runs around: four hours of watch - eight hours for rest and sleep and again four hours of watch.
Arriving at the port is a turmoil and nervousness: first unloading, then loading, bureaucracy with documents and boring communication with local agents and docks. The port landscape is usually excessively industrial and unusual. Slowly everyone begins to forget what green grass looks like.
And here we enter a small port, just two harbours, and a green-green forest around. The idea of making a shale on the shore seemed to come to everyone’s mind immediately. Already in the evening of the parish, the cocks marinous meat, and in the morning, almost the entire crew went for a picnic. Starpom, who was left on the unloading, swallowed saliva and begged him to bring him at least one piece.
The camp was broken down on a picturesque pavement overlooking the native vessel. Half an hour later, the tempting smell of shale gathered us and the Swedish police at the mangal. Local law enforcement officers told strange things: first, we are in Sweden, not in Russia, secondly, in the woods, you can't cut the socks, you can't raise the fire, you can't drink alcohol, you can't rubbish, and you can't even bring a large, sealed metal box with coals inside. And most importantly: the penalty for each offence and from each picnic participant is summed up.
The master whispered, swung a flat bottle of whiskey into his pocket and offered to move the negotiations to his cabin. The brothers did not object. Only three arrived in the captain’s cabin: the master, the sailor Shurik and the cock. (The whisker the captain hid from the police in his pocket was Shurika.) The rest were lost along the way, along with the mangal and the shaleys.
The reduction in the number of offenders did not bother the Swedes. The damaging police aunt said: “I have all the offenders counted.” The captain began to assure her that the offender was only one, and the others, so, passed by. A Swedish woman argued that one person could not eat a can of meat. Her partner, an uncle of fifty years old, bitterly breathed and silently drank dietary cola, surprised by the labels of exotic bottles from the captain’s collection.
The master told his aunt a sad story about a Russian sailor suffering for his faith:
- Understand, he was a "Orthodox Orthodontic" and from meat can only eat pork neck, which three days and three nights marinated in a special sacred vessel, and then burned on open fire under an evergreen tree - composed the captain, interfering with English, Russian and Swedish words - here "Orthodontic" and suffers, preparing meat for a month, or even two ahead.
Swedes are impressed:
Who is the Orthodontic? She asked.

Have you read Orwell’s 1984?
Well he him. I do not like these sweet tales, utopias without any plausibility. Antiquities shops work, hotels are open, Winston Smith and others unpunishedly hide where they can think without getting a pass in advance, the same Winston Smith repairs Mrs. Parsons' shell without a license, patent and IP, and breaking the social distance.

I found a wallet with a dog. It contains money, a school pass and a condom. A familiar daughter in that school to study, took the director (on the pass only name, surname and date of birth is written, it is not known which class). It turned out to be the wallet of the son of a known dog. She then told that her son was called to the council (he was 15 years old), she was called to the director and all this because of the presence of a prefix. A type of "ayayayay... what your boy thinks about instead of studying," and she told them, "I bought them for him, I don't want to become a grandmother at 37."

My colleague, his name is Oleg, baptized his son, and called his long-time friend. This friend was not from childhood, but who has gone through a lot with him, respect him as a brother.



And here, they all go to the appointed time of baptism to the church, and Oleg suddenly asks:



Renate, do you have a cross with you?

The Cross?? to

You are baptized, right?? to

What do you mean by “Baptist”? I am a Muslim.



Oleg is a very easy to communicate person, and is easy to relate to life. But dispersed or lighthearted I would never call him. At the time, he was the director of IT of a large Moscow company. In addition to life-loving and relaxedness, he always struck with a surprising speed of thinking and rare vision.



By the way, it was his fourth of the boys born with a one-and-a-half-two-year interval. The procedure was completed and there could be no mistake.



And she wasn’t.



Everything is understandable. The most important thing is that a man is good.



Nothing has changed.

I’m 32 years old and only now have I finally realized that I can’t distinguish between colors. There were no problems in school and universe, there were sometimes laughs when I spoke black instead of blue, and instead of yellow - green, but everything was perceived as a joke, as if I was confusing words or humorous. I served in the army, I have a driver's license, I have been driving for 12 years, I have been working for seven years in a company closely related to various groundings, enamels and lacks. Sometimes I called the color wrong, but I didn’t take it seriously.



Today I wanted to buy a box of candy in the store, and I had such a dialogue (I - I, Seller - P)



I - Please give that green box of candy (I point to the hand)

P is actually yellow.

I: Okay, let her go.

Q: Are you a weak-looking person?

I: No, you have never complained.

Q: You said the box is green, but it is yellow.

I: - I just talked, the head of others is stuck

You all have the heads of others, you can’t think about yourself.

(I rushed, and could only push out): - Payment by card

He gets another box from under the shelf and asks, what color?

I: The Black

P is blue. The operation is dangerous, but you can buy special glasses

I: Okay thank you

Q: I’ve been an oculist for 14 years, so don’t look at me that way.

I: thank you



When I got home, I thought and sat in the car for 15 minutes. The man worked as an ophthalmologist, and now he sells candy, it is quite possible that it is... While he was sitting in the car, watching videos on YouTube about how Daltonists first see the world in colours, it is impressive. I even found out where to order glasses, but the prices bite.



The fact is that I confuse only blue-blue-black and green-yellow-orange. At the same time, I have no difficulties in everyday life, I work mostly with documents, and in life it is very rare for me to be asked about flowers, except that my wife with curtains gets. I’m really upset that I don’t see something, but I’ve long been trapped in distinguishing colors by appearance, by how they shine in the sun or are in the shadow, I don’t know how to explain it, probably it’s intuition.



Maybe there are people with similar problems? Have you reconciled? Maybe I bought glasses? Did the operation help you? Please leave it in the comments.



All good vision, rest from the monitor for at least five minutes.

The cleaner in the gym, watching how we jump and kick our legs, said loudly - all your karate only to say one day to her son, "and I was able to do this."

I go for my daughter to kindergarten, in the closet she and three boys. My daughter pulls me three balls - jongle. I swallowed them, the daughter joyfully turns to the guys:

This is how my dad can do it!

The first guy:

And mys can do that!

The second guy:

My husband can do that too!!! to

The third shit:

My dad doesn’t know that because he’s not a clown.

96 years old, I am 5 years old, in kindergarten morning. Children with parents are joyful, happy, there are rabbits, and snowmen, and other dressed characters.

And of course Santa! Santa Claus, as usual, was a dressed teacher. Lovely children sat down on her knees, told a poem, or sang a song, received a gift for their efforts and ran away happy.

All this kindness lasted until one of the "snowmen" - the five-year-old I - sat on my knees to Santa Claus) I told the poem, received a gift, and hugged Santa Claus with joy. She hugged, froze, turned to her mom and asked, "Mom, why does Santa have breasts? “”



The mother is punctuated by shame, the rest of the parents from barely constricted laughter, the children are confused. The celebration was successful! :)

Only his mother is waiting for the prince on the white horse.

Benefits of Fundamental Science.

At the Bolsheokhtinsk Cemetery in St. Petersburg there is a tomb with a butterfly wing. When you look at it, you can see that it is actually a tank. And the story will be about how an ordinary entomologist, all his life forging with insects, saved Moscow and Leningrad. The name of the scientist was Boris Švanvič. He spent his entire life studying butterflies, an absolute stupidity, according to the current people. And even then, from the point of view of the dictatorship of the proletariat, this was a real harm, an inadvertent spending of state money. Thank you for not being shot. And when the war began, it suddenly turned out that our cities and the army were completely defenseless against German bombers. The question arose, and how to actually disguise, so that the Germans could not see the same Kremlin or Smolny with the Winter Palace. Titled academics like Fersman could not say anything specific. It was then from hopelessness and pulled out this murky intellectual, washed, fed and ordered to work for the good of the Motherland. He once wrote books about the mimicry and masking of butterflies, let him describe how the masking grid for the Kremlin, the Great Theatre, the Winter Palace, etc. should look. What a guiding thought!! But it worked and literally a week later Boris Nikolaevich had already to Stalin on the layouts how to use the peeling of butterfly wings and the laws of stereomorphism to mask Moscow and Leningrad. In fact, it really saved our cultural values. And then it protected our tanks, our airfields. This is why, literally immediately after the liberation of Leningrad from the blockade in 1944!!! In Leningrad University was organized the department of entomology. And the touching arrival suddenly for everyone turned out to be a knight of the Order of Lenin - the highest order of the USSR.

What am I? Just learned recently that as a result of the optimization of science and education of this department, and others too, there are no more, as are the faculties. Indeed, why do we have the scaly wings of worms, when we need to squeeze oil and gas bubble, to squeeze mani mani mani mani...

and lifhack. After putting sugar in the tea, don’t mix it until you get to your computer. The peel that you make along the way will be sleek and unsweetened, and you can quietly wipe it with your socks.

Xxx: I once returned to Gomel from Surgut, through Moscow, did not calculate the expenses and I did not have enough 5 Russian rubles to travel in the subway. I am still terribly ashamed to remember how I asked people who passed by for these pennies.

Yyy: Yes, in Moscow, when you ask for 5-10 rubles, you get a hundred. I gave myself

Zzz: I was given an apartment in Cheboksaars in Moscow, there was no less, they say.

My grandmother raised me and we lived in a single-room apartment. This is important because the bed was one for two.



And then one evening, in My Family, I heard the word “lesbian.”

Of course, I asked the older generation, “Who are these?” She replied, “These are the women who sleep together.” Naturally, I didn’t know anything about sex, so I didn’t even feel a double bottom in the word “sleep.”



Here is a family celebration. I am proud to stand on a chair to tell a poem and think it is necessary to share such an important event from my childhood life. I say, “I and my lesbian grandmother.”

Everyone is in shock. My aunt is falling out of her hand. My grandmother died in a pre-infarct state.

And I what? Sleeping in the same bed? Everything as said!

After that, we found the opportunity to place a second bed in our room.

My 3-year-old son, when he missed his grandmother, cried and shouted, “I want my grandmother!”  My husband always rejoiced and said, “Oh, the man is growing!”

Every summer I went to my grandmother. We lived in the city ourselves. And the next summer my grandmother came up with what to do with me while she was at work and sent me to the playground to school. The type of summer camp, but without residence - from 10 am to 5 pm. Once in the dining room, they gave apples for lunch, but not whole, but half. I was upset because there were always whole apples in the city. That was what I said to my aunt who gave them. She passed through her teeth something like, “Here and go to your city.”

This affected me. I was sure that my aunt was wrong. The best thing my child’s brain has invented then is to talk to the school director (or suddenly she doesn’t know about this mess). And most surprisingly, it worked! On the same day, we were given half an entire apple, and on the other days we were given only an entire apple. You would see my aunt looking at me.

This is how the 8-year-old won a small victory over injustice.



P.S I have never loved apples.

I was about 5-6 years old. And my dad and mom went from a small town in Bashkir to visit the neighboring city of Magnitogorsk, which is in the Chelyabinsk region. After leaving the electric car at the city station, they were waiting for their tram. At that time, a couple of African students came out of the building. When I saw them, I shouted with a loud voice:

Why did you say black people are black?

At this point, all sides of the process silenced and in silent silence waited for my mother’s answer to my question. But here I continued:

– and? They are blue!



Good guys who understood. They smiled and went on, and we went to visit.

I have long been reminded of it.)

My close friend inspires his 14-year-old son:

If you start smoking at the age of 16, you will never have children.

Dad, and why is that?

I will cut off your eggs!