Democracy is the power of a crying minority over a law-abiding majority.

case of operation. The Surgeon's Story

"At 12 a.m., a phone call: "Please come to the gynecological department of the municipal hospital. The woman’s stomach opened and we don’t know what to do next.”

I go to the operating room. Immediately I learn that the head of this department, an experienced head, is on leave. The students are operating. The abdominal cavity is covered with a small cross section. A young woman, a cosmetic cut, when they made this cut, thought they would meet a small ovarian cyst, and found a large peritoneal tumor that goes deep into the small pelvis. And here they stand over their open stomachs. Shear - conscience does not allow, to isolate the tumor - are also afraid: the area is very dangerous and completely unfamiliar to them. Neither there nor here. and stupid. This story has been going on for 3 hours!

Everyone is looking at me, waiting for an exit. I have to calm them and encourage them with my appearance, so I smile and talk very easily and relaxedly. I open my peritoneum over the tumor and enter the abdominal area. The tumor is ugly, dense, almost immobile, goes deep into the pelvis, where the eye can not penetrate, but only to the touch. You can or can not remove this tumor - you will not immediately say, you need to start, and there will be visible. Very deep, very tight and very dark. There are vital organs and major blood vessels. Separate the upper pole from the general artery.

The easiest part of the operation, not very deep, and the wall of the artery is dense, it is not easy to hurt it. It even turns out to be beautiful, elegant, a little “for the public.” The result is unexpected. From the sight of a pulsing artery in my assistants begins hysteria. It seems to them that we have entered some terrible hole from which there is no way out. It affects three hours of previous tension. The gynecologist stands opposite, her eyes are enlarged. She cried out, “Enough! Stop to! There will be bleeding!” She grabs me by the hand, pushing me out of the wound. He is screaming all the time. Her hysteria is contagious. There are a lot of people in the operation. Doctors and nurses are here, even the nurses are here. And from her cries they begin to boil. Everything is collapsing.

I am covered by anger. “Silence,” I say to her, “Close your mouth! Tra-to to to to!“She is really silent. An elderly surgeon suddenly grumbled with a quick speech: “Thank God! Thanks to God! The man smells, the man smells. I heard such words, such words... Everything is well, Everything is well! It is OK!” And they calmed down. have believed.

Go further and deeper. I need long scissors, but they don’t exist, and with the scissors I’ve been given, you can’t work in depth. His own hands hide the field of sight, nothing is visible. In addition, the branches of these scissors differ, the tips do not connect. You can’t make a delicate movement (and it’s here, in such a narrow space). There is no blood supply either. The assistants are falling from their feet and do not understand anything. And again they say supplicantly, overwhelmingly, but without hysteria, convincingly: take a piece and go. There is no blood, no tools, we are bad assistants to you, you see where you got. What if he bleeds if he dies?

At this time, I am just separating the urethra, which is tightly attached to the lower surface of the tumor. A millimeter, a centimeter, in the dark. Sweat on the forehead, on the back, on the legs, tension hell. The ureter is separated. Even deeper the tumor attached to the extra-abdominal part of the rectum. There is only a feeling. I need normal knives. I cut bad slices. I force one assistant to put on a rubber gloves and push the patient’s finger into the rectum. My finger touches her finger from the side of the stomach and cuts her finger. And all the time at the base of the scissors - a wide, ugly and dangerous movement.

The tumor from the rectum is still separated. Only the patient is worse, almost five hours on the table with an open stomach. The pressure drops, the pulse divides. There is no blood at the transfusion station. Why is there no blood at the blood transfusion station? I scream somewhere in space to be brought immediately, to open their veins and to have the blood be this moment, immediately! “We have already gone,” they say.

So far there is nothing to move. You cannot allow bleeding, in no case: we will lose the patient. And the place is damned, bleeding - a small pelvis. All that has been so far is not the most difficult. Now I have come to the terrible. The tumor was infiltrated into the lower wall of the internal pelvic vein. The vein lies in the bone marrow, and if its wall explodes - the gap will easily go into the depth of the marrow, you will not sew there. However, I do not have to think about it. The tumor is almost in my hands, the assistants calmed down, the worst they can’t see. A heavy rough stone hangs on a thin venous wall. Now the rock is freed from above, and from below, and from the side. With one accidental movement of his, he can pull and blow the vein.

But the main danger is me and my bad scissors. I slide my finger in front of the rock - into the bottom, in the dark, to somehow highlight the dull front pole and slightly pull the tumor onto yourself - from the dark to the light. Yes is. It seems to be moving, moving. Something is already seen. And in this moment - a terrible whispering sound: blood shed from the depths of the small pelvis. The bleeding!! to

The assistants shout desperately, and I grab the towel and squeeze it into the depths from where it flows. I push my finger! I stop, but this is temporary - while I give, while the towel is there. There is no blood to replace it. You need to think about what to do, evaluate the situation, find a way out, some solution.

Then I realize that I am in a trap. There is no exit. To stop the bleeding, you need to remove the tumor, nothing is visible behind it. Where does it flow? It is impossible to remove it. I don’t see the boundary between the wall of the vein and the damned stone. Something else can be seen above. Deeper in the dark? Sweatshirts and brands do not fit together. There will be no gentle, tiny cut. Crash, a woman will die.

A whirlwind and war runs in my head: “Why did I do this? Where did you go? Asked not to go. He was wise and wise.” And the blood, though not fragile, flows from under the tight wipes. Instead of anything else, a beautiful young woman dies. You need to quickly find the trap, quickly - time goes away. Where is the trap? What is Chess? The surgical solution is quick, clear, risky, any! And he is not! No is!

And then a hot heavy wave hits the head from the inside; the beard throws, the head hits through the ceiling – up, up, and strange, unknown words rise out of the afflicted soul: “Lord, strengthen my hand! Give me reason! Give me!” Something came from there. The second breath? The body is dry and cheerful, the thought is fresh, sharp and the eyes on the tip of the fingers. And the absolute certainty that I will do everything right now, I don’t know how, but I’m the master of the situation, it’s clear. It went quickly, easily. I remove the vein from the tumor. It just goes! Smooth and clean, as in medicine. All of. I have a tumor on my hand. The bleeding stopped.

Blood was brought here. Absolutely well. I said to them, “What are you moaning about? You see, everything ended well.” And they worship. Tatsat alcohol (I fought a lot, such and drink great). Only I do not drink. They are happy again.

The patient woke up. I bow to her and drop tears on her face."

by Emil Eisenstein. Dispenser: Passions and Repentance of the Chief Doctor (1997)

During the negotiations on Nord Stream 2, Merkel and Putin divided Poland as usual.

As a child I went to kindergarten. Before the New Year, the teacher told us to bring myshures for the new year, decorate the tree.

So, at home, I demanded that I be taken with me to the FARS garden, because I forgot the word myshur and I was sure that it was the farch that was needed, and not what kind of myshur there is.

Today I suddenly remember how I liked the series "Brigade" when I was a teenager. The last series could not be seen and I gave the cassette (for sight) to a friend, asked her to record this series for me. I remember watching, crying, experiencing, killed my favorite hero (Cosmos). The titles passed and I am all in trouble, all in sadness... And then the wedding of my parents begins to show. Somewhere in the middle. Your own mother! All my sorrow was removed with my hand. I was cold of horror. What have I done? How could I give the wrong recording?  Fuck, Fuck, Fuck... I’ve kept this secret for 17 years.  It’s good that no one has sights anymore.  And it seems that the wedding video is being filmed so that the video operator can make money (joke).  My parents never wanted to watch the recording. Now we live in different cities and I very hopefully that my cottage will remain a secret.

We had a cat and a small dog 17 years ago. They were violet on each other, they did not interact at all. Both animals are not noisy, the dog is silent, but hyperactive.

And then one day we began to notice how they were together (!) They sit on the floor next door and look at the same spot on an empty wall. They sit for a few minutes during the day and break up. This was especially unusual for the pessimist, who could not sit still for a minute. At such moments, I approached the wall, studied it for bushes/spades/powders/shadows/blinkings that could attract the attention of the animals, tried to move their attention to myself, shrugged my hands and covered the wall with myself – all at zero, they didn’t even blinking looking “through me.” (It happened in the apartment, the walls were concrete, there could not be mice.)

Soon the matter took a new turn: after a couple of usual silent minutes of contemplation of the wall, the dog suddenly began to make a very long, quiet, thin whisper, which became louder and louder, until it moved into a natural hellish whisper with a twist, and all this time the beasts continued to watch the wall, to the same point. I was so upset at that moment! She grabbed the animals into a bite and took them to another room, where they began to behave like nothing happened. In the evening, my mom came from work, and we, as before atheists, walked around the apartment with a candle and read some questionable prayer))) But, strangely enough, the animals stopped behaving strangely (or thought that it was time for the owners to get rid of it, and they stopped trolling us).

A similar incident occurred in isolation with the same cat and another dog 10 years later, but then they “watched” something from the entrance door to the distant room.

I wonder what they have seen so far. Per we also have some “Lohah Plyp”

Xxx: Generally speaking, if your life is dull and sad and you work in open offices, go for a "big dragon dildo buy" from a dozen colleagues on the compass.

Yyy: Ooooh thank you! Now I will know how to teach colleagues to block comps!!! to

Zxx: a more interesting version of "The male ass imitator price", "swing party for same-sex love", "how to join a united Russia"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX We are all people!

Xxx: But did you know that if you want to fold all people into a large titanium cube and bury it in the ocean, then you will need a cube with a side of 1135m. Taking the dimensions of each of the 6.5 billion people 1.8x0,5x0.25m.

If you use the press, the side of the titanium cube can be reduced to 770m. Humanity is compact. There is enough space on the planet for everyone.

Yyy: Ocean level will rise - coastal life will drown

Xxx: A titanium cube with a side of 770 meters will repel 456 533 000 m³ of water. Yandex says the area of the world’s oceans is 361.3 million km. The water will rise by 0.0000000013 meters, or 1.26 nanometers. The size of the bacteria starts from 500 nanometers. So even the false legs of amebe will not wet.

I sit at the computer and work.

My daughter, 5 years old:

D: Paaap, can I watch the cartoon on the computer when you finish?

I: No, watch your eyes, you’ve already seen two cartoons today.

Q: Can I paint on the computer? (My daughter likes to paint in painting)

I: (I think, okay, let it still paint for 10 minutes): Yes, of course you can.

D: So it’s still a computer, which means the same thing for the eyes! So why can’t a cartoon and can’t paint?

I: I told you not to paint then either.

D: Well paaaap!! to

The xxx:

I will uncover the secret. There are such parents: Five got - and why did not teach? Why is it not cleaned in the room? Closed – why do you shut up? If you read the book, you should go for a walk. Walking, I’d better read the book. I walked, I read, I did all the lessons, I didn’t have anything to do in the room, I grew old and hanged up, I prepared clothes for tomorrow – I was in your years at three circles, and you were lazy. Seriously, the best way to kill a child’s motivation is to meet any of his achievements with criticism and blasphemy. Whatever you do, you are not good, you should have done three more. Believe me, I met you. Consequences are sad.



YYYY :

How many are you now, 12? I was 14 at your age!”

As a child, he lived in a village, his father worked as a car engineer, he went to work on foot, 20 minutes to go.



He went in on the way to work to the store, and I stood there, looking at the vitrine with cookies.

He comes and asks:

Hi, what are you doing here?

Nothing, I just look.

Maybe you want something?

- Cooked cakes, but they are expensive, at 22 cents

My father came to the box and bought me a pack of these cakes. I went out of the store and he said to me:



- Go home, son, and don't just go to the store, not the eyes. What you want, tell me. have agreed?



Okay daddy



I went home and my father went to work.



We just went to the store constantly disadvantaged kids ran, bought nothing, just watched who would eat anything, they were happy. My father came in, and I went in there.

I visited my father recently, and I remembered his case. He smiled and said:

- I bought you these cakes for 5 rubles, and I did not go to the dining week).

- Fuck, daddy... well, I would buy a couple, I would have enough, why so much?

- No, son, you looked at the window so carefully, my heart was stuck. You never asked for anything, there was a little money in the family, my mom after surgery at home for almost a year, lived on my salary, you four. Meat, potatoes, milk, everything was, but I did not pay attention to sweets, sausage is enough. Since then, I have always bought these cakes for your salary. Do you remember?

I remember Dad, thank you.

A colleague tells her that her daughter started playing in the Sims. The father saw it and suddenly even became interested in himself. Now they’re sitting on a pair clinging to this toy. One behind the comp, the other behind the note. They go there to each other for guests, houses are built and rebuilt, whole families have built there... In general, they have disappeared with their heads. And the colleague laughs, “No, you’re pretending! They were there, so they created families for themselves, and I was left alone without a family at all!"

I rented two neighboring premises, two years ago I had to give up one due to a decrease in revenue and income. In the past year, I had decided to reduce the rent. The landlord did not agree. Two years the room is free.

Yesterday, when I gave the money, the landlord knocked his eyes and stated why I should not take the room back again.

I am 3000 rubles.

A - 6000 (was 7000)

I – 3000

But it is not profitable to us!

I am me too.

You are an entrepreneur, think of it.

have not agreed.

By the way, all the other rooms in this building were rented by a grocery store. He also asked for a reduction in rent. not reduced. The products were transported to the neighboring building. Since 15 years in the part that took food, half of the rooms are empty.

Interestingly, those who call Yeltsin an alkash and those who cannot forgive Gorbachev’s struggle with alcoholism are the same people.

It happened that from this new year in Moscow came out a ban on parking of commercial transport in the courtyards, but the explanations on how to distinguish commercial transport from personal to give forgotten. Historically living in a multi-storey, on the first floor of which there is a furniture store, it is almost accustomed to the fact that trucks in the morning come in their passenger cars, park them in the courtyard and transferred to the killed gazelle to transport the furniture. Gazelleks, of course, spend the night in the courtyard and occupy places for the morning parking of trucks. The courtyard has a rather complicated configuration and the gazelles placed at night do not always allow the first time to maneuver even the little ones. If something larger falls into the courtyard by ignorance, then the pip-pib of the rear course delights the population of the house with its fun dressing. Those who know - try not to sneak in the yard, but mostly it is tractor-snow-washers. On the possibility of parking private transport for the residents of the house modestly silence. Until recently, there was the impression that everyone was satisfied and it will continue to be so, but when I went to work, I found loadspeople carefully studying the advertisement sticky directly on the gazelle. In the text of the announcement: “Game! For the furniture shop! The best traditions of Russian lotteries! The magic of teleportation. Leave the gazelle at home for the night and find it in the morning at the penalty parking lot! Be convincing! Prove that you are not silent and tell at the parking lot that the gazelle is not used for commercial transportation! Go to court and prove your right. This action is not one-off! With respect, evacuation matters master. I explained as I could not the text but the meaning of the announcement. Returning from work closer to the night, he found a courtyard free of gazelle. The trucks of the truckers stood in their regular daily seats. I wonder who has seen so much furniture at night?
PS: The start is right. Could they be guarding the courtyard? Respect for the evacuator.

It is said that now young actresses sleep with Fedor Bondarchuk only in order not to take part in his films.

Surprised to look at the piece of an athletic ring that my three-year-old son brought me from the home gym, I remembered the story that happened when he was a couple of years older than his age.

While digging into my father’s toolbox, I discovered a fun brilliant thing, namely a triumphant drill for concrete walls.

Dad, what is it?

He is a victorious thief. They can break holes in the walls.

What does winning mean?

It is from a special alloy. will win. It is very strong, it cannot be broken.

He looked at me, breathed, appreciating the burning light of interest in my eyes and immediately took it from me: - But you will break!

In my youth I inherited an apartment from my grandmother in Khrushchev. A private home appeared and was incredibly pleased. I studied in those years at the institute and, like any student, I brought girls to myself from time to time. However, there was one well-known problem - sound insulation, or rather it was not from the word at all. The decision came at one moment. I replaced the old and rusted jigolo with a relatively new magnetophone. My close acquaintance was often on business trips to America, so I always had new cassettes with the latest hits like Queen and the like. Well, to silence the sounds of pure and unspoiled love, I included these records. And once brought to himself another love of his life, and went to the bath himself to bring himself in order. The door was next to the entrance door, so I could hear what was said on the staircase cage. And here I stand in the bathroom and hear the voice of the neighbors on the site: "Oh, DikovinnijZver brought the girl, tell your wife to put the dishes quieter soap, now we will listen to the last hits" That day they listened to Ice Ice Baby)

In the 90s, he was on a horse trip. The company was not very poor and the travel paid entirely. A bathroom for the car, a hotel, food you want, snacks, a spa salon or a pool at the hotel. Even a taxi, if it’s already a face in the olive. and all.

We stopped at the county cafe "U Colonel". When the menu was opened, it was a bit of creativity in the name of the dishes. Well there is a borst "easy death of the area", or a baking "white swan". This is just such a criminal slang. It turned out that the owner of the grocery was a former Colonel of the FSIN, and apparently the trace of a long service decided to rationalize in his own cafe.

They ate and went on. Upon arrival we hand over the cheque. In an hour, it is financial.

Are you really there, oh oh?

In the sense?

Is this what? - I get a check from the cafe at the Colonel, in it: dinner with confusion 150 rubles.

Long after, I had to explain what was called tomato salad with cucumbers.

Managing herds requires not only shepherds and dogs, but also high prices and housing shortages, low wages, selling media and imitation of education, culture and medicine.