this is what will happen...
Hey Aaaiii,
How are you doing?
Mubashir had tandoori chicken, veg fried rice, and raita for lunch yesterday. He also had tea before and after that, and then drove his electric Tata Punch to meet his Aunt who recently lost her husband to cancer.
I do all my PCNL's under Spinal. It is easier for the anesthesiologist, because he/she can go out of the OT and chill under a blanket. Also, I only do lower/middle calyceal punctures. I have strenuously avoided upper calyceal routes. #weak
Here's a bit of morning speculative fiction for you...
Nashik
Hala may participate in the Nationals, if selected. The nationals are in Nashik. I don't know the exact dates, yet. She doesn't want me to accompany her with the team. But I will travel down and probably stay in Mumbai. I will then ask MaMo to see if I can scrub with him on a few cases, and I will ask Raina Sir if I can scrub with him on a few cases, and I may go to TMH and scrub on a few cases, and I will inform you, in advance of my arrival and departure, and ask for the pleasure (!) of some of your time, maybe a dinner, and then you'll say yes, and we will probably set a date (!) to meet, but that day, you'll suddenly remember that the lady on the 45th floor, not named Rangachari, has invited you and the family for dinner, so you'll have to bail, and I will be left high and dry and in a fit of anger and rage, I will board a local train, thinking it will take me to Nashik, but it won't, and I will end up in Vapi, in Gujarat, without a Visa, where I will be arrested, handed over to the Police and deported back to Mumbai, first, and then back home, all the while, I would have held my teeth in a gritty pose, such that I would have a locked jaw, and if ever I would need an intubation, it would be through a tracheostomy, because the lady on the 45th floor, not named Rangachari, would have forgotten to remind you about her dinner, but despite my locked jaw and summary imprisonment, I will make time to take a trip back to see the Young Master and wish him the best of luck, and hand him an invite to play at an orphanage in Kashmir, at his own convenience, without the need for an accompanying piano/keyboard player who could not remember that a lady from the 45th floor, not named Rangachari invited her on the day she had invited someone else home, who was so upset that he forgot how to open his jaw, and that is how I will end up requiring a tracheostomy, if ever I need surgery with general anaesthesia.
Amen.
(((Anyways))) She looks at PPD, who after his breathless monologue looks like he has run a mile, and she wonders, 'What kind of shit was that?' (((Anyways))) Then she looks at the Producer, and shouts, knowing full well that he could hear her behind the recording window because she was speaking to the cardiac mic, 'Damn it! This is what you called me back for? I paid a fortune for that spa treatment and for getting my hair cut short and you called me out for this?'
The producer scribbled something on paper, and put it against the window. It read, 'He asked me to call you back before you cut your hair. I was late. Now he has lost it.'
'Well if he didn't want me to cut my hair, he could have just told me, stupid. S.T.U.P.I.D.'
(((Anyways)))
Have a nice day!
May the sun shine on all you love. Amen.
#here
OB