Let my colleagues at the medical workshop forgive me, but this is a simple finding of the fact: having obtained a diploma, we are all, without exception, only larvae of doctors.
And only after going through long and sometimes painful metamorphoses, through the stages of development from the larvae to the butterfly, we become professionals in our business.
Well, or if comparisons with insects seem humiliating to colleagues - another comparison, eagles with diplomas, weak, stupid, not able to fly, we are trained for years to in the future evaporate into the sky of our insanely responsible profession skilled eagles and we already teach the next generation of eagles the subtleties of flight in the storm and wind.
The mature eagles carefully and strictly teach the eagles to first just move their wings, then let them stand on the wing and make a small flight, and then another, more complicated, and there, with the years, and the last flight, where they, having taught the young eagle to fly, to successfully hunt and land safely, give good for independent flights.
It is very difficult to be an Orly: endless hours of duty, heavy theoretical and practical exams, years of exhausting training, semi-military discipline, tragedies and triumphs - all this is necessary and can be carried out.
What is more difficult is constant communication with eagles, so superior to their eagles, that you start to doubt your abilities: can I fly like that?
The need for absolute submission, the irony and sarcasm of the instructors, their jokes, sometimes quite cruel, the atmosphere of obedience itself, at each new stage a light grandfatherhood and the repeated longing of the new recruiter in the new barracks...
This is the origin of the mythology of eagles: the legends about the smart eagle, which turned out to be smarter and more handsome than the mad eagles.
They are many, they are passed from generation to generation, very instructive, sometimes - funny, but always inspiring optimism and raising the fighting spirit of recruits of medicine.
To your judgment - one of such stories, which happened so long ago that I do not guarantee the complete truth, unusual for me - I am not the hero of this story, just a storyteller.
Grandmother, a pleasant clean old lady in a cloth, almost a lumpy grandmother from the Red Hat, has once again come up with severe and sudden allergic reactions, which from time to time become more severe and more dangerous.
So, first it was a rash, then a swelling of the face, and then the nose with the throat began to lay, asthma joined, her last arrival on the "Emergency" was generally on the verge of anaphylactic shock, barely saved in resuscitation.
I saw her there small, moved the grandmother to the ordinary department, afraid to leave home - the next episode she will not survive, unanimously decided everything...
And it happened: consiliums, lights of all unthinkable heights and titles, examinations of students, interns, residents, ordinators - nobody could make the correct diagnosis.
Two weeks later, the grandmother was seriously tired of it, she was tired of all this medical beetle, began to ask home...
You can’t, grandmother, go home and you’ll die.
The diagnosis is not...
It is clear that an allergy, it is clear that it is severe - and what causes it is unclear...
This happened in those distant times when dinosaurs like me were young: we didn’t have allergen tests.
Grandma, by the way, is absolutely healthy, with the exception of a strong allergic reaction to penicillin, in her youth.
And here comes our hero, a student of fifth grade.
The fifth year is not even an eagle, it is an embryo.
They are allowed a little: to watch the sick and not talk under the feet of adult fighters, all.
They are in the tail, the lowest of the lowest in the medical hierarchy.
Grandmother did not love him at first: tired of all this circus, having seen a bunch of well-deserved docents and professors and even one academic, she was not in the mood to answer the same questions a thousand times.
And he asked a lot of questions, bored to horror, he asked to describe all the events before the attacks.
And I found out a detail that escaped the attention of the lights: all of them happened at the same time, a half-day, after which the grandmother fell into the reception room.
A food allergy...
Why only at home?
Why is this not happening in the hospital?
Asked about the diet, nothing unusual.
No obvious food allergies.
And then the talented detective surpassed everyone in boredom: together with his grandmother he began to make a diary of food, what and when she ate, day after day, week after week.
And no matter how much the grandmother pressed her lips, he slowly and methodically made a list of the foods she consumed.
There was tea all the time.
And then I drank the tea and it started!
I sat down to drink tea and my throat began to swell!”
Allergic to tea?? to
He laughed at him, unheard of it.
Two - tea in the hospital does not cause such reactions.
The young man, of course, found out that it was most likely a food allergy — and now walk to play a sandbox.
He went nowhere, the conversations with his grandmother continued, she got used to him and even fell in love with him for his sincere desire to help.
And here, as a result of trust, the grandmother was engaged in this detective work, the first results appeared: the attacks began last fall, from nowhere.
She didn’t seem to have changed anything in her habits, but something happened, precisely in the autumn.
What do grandmothers do in autumn?
Salt with cookings and marinades, berries, mushrooms, cucumbers - all, as it is believed, from year to year.
“Yes, grandmother, what was unusual last autumn?”
"That kind of thing did not happen, the strawberry straw drowned, digested and rolled on a new one."
Sorry, what about the strawberries?
“How what? Yes, the mold has grown, I removed it and digested it, a good snack, I still hold it, I consume it slowly, there is a little left.
The air smelled eureka, holding his breath, the young genius of medical investigation asks the last, decisive question:
“Are you like you drink tea?”
“Yes, my son, I’m used to that.”
Holding his breath, with a gentle and gentle voice only - only the exhausted doctor asks:
“Can I look at the barley?”
“Why not, I’ll ask my neighbor to bring me.”
Then everything became clear: the digested snack retained traces of mold.
Remember your grandmother’s allergy to penicillin?
It opened up, half a century later - and, like an old mine, broke, it is believed, strongly, repeated allergic reactions are always worse than the original.
This is the story.
What happened to the Eagle-Wonderkind?
I don’t know, but somewhere there’s a fucking clever doctor who, in his infancy, tried to wipe his noses, or, more precisely, the sticks of the glowing eagles of medicine.

I would like to be a student in the American series of the 90s.

You are between 12 and 30. You are given hot school girls. You can drive a car and drink beer. Parents give you breakfast to school and money for pocket expenses. No need to work. If you work, then for exactly 3 series you will accumulate on a cool car. And most importantly, nothing changes. As long as the series comes out, you are a 10th grade student no matter how many years the series lasted!

The most important thing is not to be the guy who has been in a coma for 10 years and everyone has forgotten why.

I got TZ half an hour before midnight. Delivery time is the next day until 12. by 00.

In the language of managers, it’s called, “You had two days to work!”

Now the fashion went to extravagant names, hearing again in the courtyard the name of another Dobrinju, remembered a small case.

The acquaintances, or more precisely the acquaintance, decided to name the daughters Vitalina and Nicole. They are 8 years old, but only recently one of them complained, walking with my mother, that Dad calls them Vétal and Kolyan.

I was born on June 1 at 23:58, and my twin sister was born on June 2 at 00:03. Regardless of the difference of 5 minutes, each has its own personal birthday and individual gifts))

We had such a case at work.



A bus carrying children. Stopped the hiccups. Check the documents, everything is normal. He goes into the salon and looks around. He asks the children:

Are they all attached?

Here is a picture of the voice:

I am not attached.

The driver took his head:

How is it? I checked everyone personally.

The accompanying woman was also surprised, she herself caught everyone. When the parasite got out, a bad boy.



The result: a fine to the driver 3000 thousand, a fine to the official (mechanic) 30000 rubles, a fine to the organization 100000 rubles.



Pope Francis of Morocco (

I finally met my daughter’s boyfriend. I never thought the boy in class 10 would be higher and more muscular than me!But most offensive is that his beard is thicker, more beautiful.

I am standing in the shore at the Republican, drinking coffee, sluggishly leaving the pages of the book on my mobile. With orders of stitch, hunting to sleep, even coffee burns, but does not help to get excited. Immunity is already in progress.

A knock on my glass. A woman with a 5 year old girl. I descend.

Please help us!

What is?

- My daughter has diabetes, it's time for us to inject, take us to the sport please... We have drugs at home, and we don't even have money for the route. Please please.

I look at the girl. Dress, like her mother, is not rich, but elegant. It looks like something... poisoned. Probably, and really feelings are not important. Okay, I’m still standing, it’s hard...

and sit down.

I touch, run into the strip and run away. A woman gets a cell phone and calls someone. And asks the subscriber to borrow her money, at least five hundred rubles. I don’t hear the interlocutor, but the conversation turns out to be very short, and apparently ends with a refusal.

We go...

Sorry, can I ask you?

About what? I look at them in the salon mirror. She is crying. The girl, without saying a word, stared out the window.

Can you buy us medicines? In debt, leave your number, I will call you and give it.

How much do your medicines cost? A worm of doubt. It hurts... I am sorry. No money, sorry for this little dark child.

Three hundred rubles. Oh, thank you, thank you very much!

I slow down at the pharmacy, the mother with all her legs rushes there, quickly returns with a packet of some medicines. He is back in thanksgiving again.

When I landed them in the sports room, I, on the insistence of the woman, wrote her phone number. Of course, no one called me back. I struck and forgot.

The case was in autumn.

Spring, the morning hour of peak. I landed a client on the Green, I leave the courtyard - a woman is actively voting at the exit. I brake, turn on the emergency, drop the glass.

Please help me! I have a bad child at home, an asthma attack, and there is no money even on the road! Please take away!

The OP-PA All faces are known.

Where to take?

In his youth, in Frunze. She is, exactly she.

and sit down. Have you moved from sports for a long time?

From the sports? The woman is pretty confused. Milla, she is she.

I go with my daughter to a sports car. She has not only diabetes, but also asthma? Why are you silent? Do you say the PDN number, or go crazy? I will take the phone. Where did you crash? Stay up my mom!! to

did not settle.

The class in the 4th - 5th my friend Yuri gave a real sea binoculars.

Well, in order to test it as much as possible in the case, it was decided to go to the field where the geodesic tower stood - the highest available structure in the surrounding area at the time. The height was exactly 10 floors. Constructively, the tower had two "floors" - approximately in the middle there was a platform enclosed with fences.

Well, therefore, we went in there three, looked in turn into the binoculars and let the aircraft from the paper taken with us.

After an hour we got tired of this matter and decided to go down.

I went down the last and stayed on the middle floor, because I was caught. Accepted what?

And that it was already summer and green apples with unripe strawberries came to the grass.

Well, the boys down there are already standing and rubbing my heads, like go down.

I’m not tearing, I’m crying. You hide or turn away. “I will cast out.”

Well, one (the most astute) departed from the tower in general to the windy side, and Jurka decided to hide under a scattered bush near the tower itself.

Well, I looked up, strapped my pants, moved across the fence and relaxed the valve.

Honestly, I went to the opposite side of where I was hiding under the Yuri bush.

No changes to the wind.

In general, when Yurk, sitting on the grass under the bush, noticed that something dropped on him from a completely clean sky and that it was not water, he broke his legs across the field.

Without seeing the results of my actions, I continued to admire the sights that opened up.

Yuri has fled.

He ran as far as his feet glowed. He just ran by the wind.

It would be better if he stayed under the bush.

The wind normally sprinkled on him. straight in the course of its trajectory.

At that time, he did not get well.

“Spring,” as someone said then.

I had a schizophrenic neighbor. Not bitter but problematic. It wasn’t good to put him in a fool, but sometimes he went to bed for a couple of weeks. The relatives were waiting for him to leave the apartment by moving to a different world. Everyone thought it would be soon. The fact is that in addition to the shaft, he also boiled significantly, like this was the cause of the shaft. In fact, his anti-health was wild. The caterpillars walked and greeted by the hand. Then a grandmother began to talk to him. Washed it all there, it began to hold it in order. The grandmother turned out to be the widow of the general with a hefty pension and virtually moved. Behind her was another grandmother, and then there was a whole harem gathered. I think for a fist? And then I know from our neighbors that the one who has gone is a prophet. And all his nonsense about how he contacts with aliens, flies to the moon in a dream, and frankly hallucines on the blue of nothing but carefully recorded prophecies. Later, the ladies and younger people began to walk. I eventually moved, I don’t know how it ended, but I suspect the circus continues. I never thought that the blue odoring thing floating in the entrance was actually such a unique personality.

She was both stupid and lazy... and he felt needed and strong.

It is said that greed is the second happiness, and fools are always lucky.
In general, the case was in 2001. In my hometown, shooting in the streets from grenades then ceased to be fashionable - but serious guys in sports trousers were still riding beeches (which nobody had thought of calling "boomers"). And I was a young green fool who worked in a small computer company. The clients were different, not everyone confessed the principle of "duty - a matter of honor". But somehow they managed to negotiate with them without bringing them to extremes.
These are some inconsistent ones. They don’t want to pay for the work they do – and that’s all. They cheer with their roughness, participation in a single “social-political union”. In other words, natural...
I just decided to resign and move to the capital. And here the boss, when I came to him for a calculation, just said:
Their client? The Thy. Do they owe us? A hundred pounds. So go and pay off the debt as you want. If you bring a baby, I’ll pay you as much as I need, but I’m not sorry.
I looked at myself in the mirror... The ugly glasses-botan. The costume is cheap, with a collar colorful in the fashion of the time. Who is not afraid of me and will take it seriously? But nothing to do... I sat down in my broken box and went to the debtor’s office. And they lived on the outskirts, next to the factories. I come, go to the reception to the main, I am interested in the subject of his presence. Not there, they say. Okay, I’ll answer, I’ll wait for him on the street, in the car.
I go out and I realize I don’t even know how he looks. Only the name was given to me. But to come back, to ask, is inappropriate somehow. He went to his coffin. I sit and wait. An hour, two or three. In order not to miss - I picked up the book, read it, and periodically look at the booklet - a photo of my beautiful girlfriend.
The car was placed in front of the entrance to the building. My calculation - as a cool limousine approaches - so I'll go straight to him and approach. No one, except the director of theirs in such transport can move.
Until the evening, no limousines arrived. In general, somehow empty on the parking lot, and no one enters or exits the building. Only the curtain at the reception window sometimes rolls.
At 8 o’clock it was dark, so I think there’s no point in waiting. The area is not the most quiet again - I have nothing to do here at night. I went home without bread.
The next day is exactly the same. He came - asked - was sent - went into the car - sat down until evening. There is still silence, only the birds whisper.
And on the third day, in the morning, our boss caught me. brought to the office. The envelope is dirty. I re-calculated, there was, besides what I expected, a bigger sum. I raise my eyes at him with a silent question.
They paid, he said. The money fell on the account today.
“And yet,” he says, “their chief called me on the trumpet early in the morning: “You didn’t understand us that way, we don’t want war. We don’t need to send a wheelchair.”
The Waltz is a killer, if anyone did not know.
"I immediately painted it: a scratch in the glasses, under the student cuts. The car is clearly stolen, sits, pretends to read the book - and passes the entrance, and with the photo is checked. The nerves, of course, have ropes: it looks so beautiful, does not hide, does not fear that it will be removed. Mother of the Beast, short.
I took the envelope, pulled the boss's hand - and went to the first seat with my wife.

And what of the story above, and what was - you decide for yourself.

Al-Qaeda has taken responsibility for forming a new Russian government.

Long ago, in the 90s, my aunt had a small store business and, in connection with this, very often wandered to Moscow from our small town - Onega, the Archangelsk region. Driving a day. It’s to the fact that she did everything herself: the clothes were so huge that I was scared to imagine how she was always pulling it by herself. I was small)

But especially stories, how someone helped her there in Moscow I did not hear, but she always tried to help, as she could: then in the train to give the Gypsies food, then in the subway to someone to pass.

And she understood that not all beggars were sincere and honest, but she was always a man with such a good heart that once again, when she heard how the soldier couldn’t get home, she asked, “You’re not lying exactly? Are you asking for a ticket? »

The guy, of course, replied, “Yes, I didn’t have enough money for the ticket. My mother is waiting at home.

Aunt says to him, “Well, look, I hope you don’t lie. Write down my address. When you come home, write a letter that everything is fine, that you have gotten.”

My aunt gave him a ticket. He ran for his affairs.

I forgot about it when I got home.

And I just went to visit her, I see aunt Masha sitting, with tears in her eyes, and a letter in her hands...

And this boy actually came home and wrote a letter of thanks with his mother.

Worked in the market, the teen jackets of the N-firm were in huge demand, there was no such thing as a day less than 10 units were not sold, and what they were good is that they had a lot of different color variations, but the price they had was not small. On the horizon appeared grandmother (B) and grabbed the red jacket with a business look, begins a dialogue:

B - Oh, how nice, I need to take my grandson, I don't regret the money for him at all, how much! ? to

I am 3500

B - Oh, and you have a size of 38 is not sorry, or would have taken straight now

I - how do I not get out of the counter, here

B - Oh, and the color does not go red, here would be blue, I would immediately buy

I have a blue jacket (I have a blue jacket)

B – No, too pale, he needs bright... oh, how sorry...

I - and brightly blue is (again I get)

B - And the inserts on the shoulders are white, and if it were grey, I would buy it.

I - So this is yours, day, my good... well what I pack! ? to

B - Yes, you sent us... Y, the goat - and with a proud look goes away



What it was! ? to And this grandmothers often had nothing to do, so they came to us and went for a walk, and with us "targashas" to talk.

Electronic document circulation in Russia is when you print documents to sign and scan again.

I was 17th in autumn. In the garden in 1992. A girl called me.

She liked me. But we were known from childhood and no chances.

He calls and asks for a cigarette. I quit smoking a week earlier.

You are not smoking, I am not smoking!

And it was me, I wanted it. I understood the clue.

This is a hint!

I ran into the tent and bought the most expensive cigarettes imported.

I ran to her. She let in. I went to the kitchen.

There is a cloud sitting there.

This is Volodya! Get to know.

And then I sat down and watched how this Volodya mourned, smoking my cigarettes.

This is such treachery.

The director at the age of 53 decided to engage in MMA (mixed combat). I found a club where this craft is taught by the older generation. The next day after the first workout he appeared in the office with a huge bleeding under his eye and a broken knee.

Immediately the questioning began. Women were even surprised, as it is generally said, at the first training of such barbarism. Even young people do not do that.

The director reassured everyone. It turns out that at the training, he just climbed on the tatami (fighting carpet) and fell the plasma.

I decided that MMA was not for him and should hang his gloves on the nail.

My relationship to the sausage can be divided into two types:



1st Why is a kg of sausage cheaper than a kg of meat?

I won’t buy this sausage.



2nd Why so expensive? Buying meat cheaper.

I won’t buy this sausage.

When I was in the last class of school (Oh, long ago, the USSR was still almost alive), I liked one girl - from a parallel class. I seemed to like her too. But there were a few nuances – we were really overwhelmed with studying and her dad was a puppet at our school. Therefore, our communication was mainly reduced to communication at shifts and school discos and other extracurricular events (which were a lot if honest). All of the attempts to organize a meeting over the weekend came across “an unrealistic amount of lessons” and “blind, we live in different parts of the city” (both were true, but the hormones told me that this was a false statement and we need to fight). On the one hand, I tried to hold myself in my hands, and on the other hand, I continued to show persistence. At school discos, we were all closer to each other, not eating pioneering decency (of course if her dad wasn’t on duty). When we met, we not only talked, but also held our hands. On the electives after 7-8 lessons, solving any archaeological difficult problem in physics, we sat down together and exchanged views and smiles - which for students of different classes is not achievable during the course of the school day... In short, platonic relationships developed gradually, and some parts of the body insisted on recommending the brain to come up with how to organize sexual life. And the brain plagued with hormones. So I got my first kiss. And now, at the school discotheque, rough hands climb where pioneers and komsomolists are not.

...And at this moment her look becomes thoughtful-dreamingly determined. And she slightly stood away for a long time and stared me in the eyes. He said, “We have to do one thing. Are you not afraid?”

And although at this moment I was overwhelmed with contradictory emotions - enthusiasm, fear, anticipation, fear, licking away and a lot more, my dry throat presses out: "Yes, in the sense of no, in the sense of what I should be afraid."



And she takes my hand and persistently pulls me somewhere. And in front of my blurred gaze, in addition to her slim figure in front of me, the pictures seen in the illegally mined magazines flash... When my eyes gain focus, I suddenly see before me a zavocha – the father of my girlfriend. And I hear her confident voice: “Dad. I can’t continue like this, I don’t want to hide anything from you. I like Vitaly. I want to meet him. I want to spend time with him on the weekend, not at home locked up for lessons and preparation for the university! And after school, I also don’t always want to run home as a sprinter to report for every minute between school and home!”



When she finished, I understood from whom the artist took the image of Mr. Pomidor for a children’s book. No, he must be honored, he did not explode and did not raise his voice. He clearly impressed only a few words: “No. The point. Finish the university. You will eat. Do what you want. Before that you are my child. Vitaly is free. You are home.”

Everything was convincing and tough. The evening was over. But it was not the end. The end came for me in the morning. When I approached her on a shift and tried to hold my hand and I heard, “No Vital, not now. All in vain and useless... I need to be alone and think... If your father has such a reaction to you, then present him with my boyfriend - a secondary student is not even real. It will kill. I have to think about it...” And I went to my lesson.



Before getting acquainted with the term "friendship" there were some 15-20 years...And the dominant thought in the head: "And when did you just have time?"