Today Facebook has unveiled a new open source wireless platform the company has created called OpenCellular, which has been created to improve connectivity in remote areas of the world.
The OpenCellular platform has been designed to improve connectivity and can be deployed to support a range of different communication options, from an access point supporting everything from 2G to LTE to a network in a box.
Facebook plans to open source all the hardware designs along with all the necessary firmware and control software. To allow telecom operators, OEMs, entrepreneurs and researchers to locally build and deploy wireless infrastructures. Facebook explains more about the new OpenCellular open source wireless platform they have unveiled today.
One of the reasons the expansion of cellular networks has stalled is that the ecosystem is constrained. Traditional cellular infrastructure can be very expensive, making it difficult for operators to deploy it everywhere and for smaller organizations or individuals to solve hyperlocal connectivity challenges. It's often unaffordable for them to attempt to extend network access in both rural and developed communities.
For more details on the OpenCellular wireless platform unveiled by Facebook jump over to their official Code website full details and more resources.


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HomeBooksScience Fiction & Fantasy
Prophase: A Present Tale
by M. Street and John Robert
Piper Walker, a high school senior, is unknowingly standing on the precipice of a monumental transformation in her life. She has always been offbeat, relating to nature and animals more than people. She grew up fast after her mom died from cancer at a young age, weeks after her brother was born. With a wrecked home life and a baby brother to raise, Piper is adopted by friends, a kind elderly neighbor named Esther and her cat Jazz, as her family and a nearby forest as her solace. A near-death experience causes an awakening inside her, prematurely opening her eyes to her destiny. A world of magic and light she never dreamt of lay hidden in the shadows of what she thought was real. However, trouble brews in paradise. A long-standing tyrannical rule has suppressed and strangled the world she is now part of. Somehow, she plays a crucial role in freeing the captive races of this ancient realm. Amongst the unspeakable beauty, the unknown danger, and the desire to find out who she really is, Piper discovers an unexplainable, first-time love that becomes the only thing that she can cling to in her stormy life.
Publisher: BookBabyReleased: Mar 20, 2014ISBN: 9780991554300Format: book
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Prophase - M. Street
Street~
The phase of the cell cycle in which the cell spends the majority of its time and performs the majority of its purposes including preparation for cell division.
Intense pain was the only familiar feeling. Everything else was twisted upside down, with the worst yet to come. I screamed in an attempt to release the pressure as another contraction shook my body. My tears and sweat intermingled. It was unprecedented for a woman of my age to conceive, much less give birth. I ground my teeth and closed my eyes as another wave of compression screamed through my body, dispelling any thoughts I held.
The night's wait went in bursts. I was sure I hadn't been followed, but nonetheless my heart skipped beats from my vulnerability. It was just me and my unborn child. The second birth wasn't any easier and worlds apart. It took all of me to control the fingers of fear whittling at my concentration. My apprehension climbed as night faded into the starry dawn.
I nestled deep inside a forest of giants.
We are safe here. We are amongst friends. I talked to her constantly now. I wanted her to know my voice. It helped me now knowing it would help her later. I squatted over towels and blankets leaning against the trunk of a redwood. This was no way to usher in life, but I had no choice with so much at stake. My breath ran shallow as my body took control, convulsing me into an all-consuming push.
Miraculously, I had managed to keep the entire pregnancy a secret. Only her father and I knew of her conception. He had given his life protecting ours. She would never feel his strong yet tender touch, hear his comforting voice, or see his blue-green eyes.
He is with us, child. I pushed my hands against my tight, swollen belly. She bore down on my back, fracturing my straining feelings.
Her life would bring about great change. She alone could balance the tilted scale. Her identity would remain secret; not even she would know who she was or what she could become. It was too dangerous to tempt the fates. Any revealing of her identity would be cataclysmic not only to her life, but to the world as well. I shared my secret of her impending birth with only one other, her protector. He prepared her way. My body clamped down, making me light-headed.
I reached down and felt her head. It was time. I pushed my bare feet into the damp ground and clutched the redwood's exposed roots, bearing down with my remaining strength. The pressure in my body raised me to dizzying heights, but the ice-cold spring air kept me lucid. My heart pounded forceful beats as her head broke through. I pulled her out, lifting her to my breast.
Her cry resounded with the first rays of morning.
I carefully slid down the claws of the tree and onto the earth. I wiped her clean, blinking to clear my tears. She was beautiful, radiating pure innocence. Struggling, she filled her virgin lungs with cool, pine air.
I kissed her forehead. She was our child.
Her day of birth was no coincidence: the vernal equinox.
Piper Frieda. You shall bring us back into the light.
I cherished each grain of time remaining. I kept my thoughts of what was coming at bay so I could be present with her. We lay as still as sleep wrapped in old quilts under the arms of an ancestral tree. Closing my eyes, I soaked in the momentary peace.
A great tale had begun.
Prophase
The first stage of mitosis, during which the chromosomes condense and become visible, the nuclear membrane breaks down and the spindle apparatus forms at opposite poles of the cell.
In the Soup
The unwelcome north wind intensified as I left the woods. I didn't know the sky could be filled with so many shades of grey. The smoky clouds looked pregnant with rain, but with temperatures so cold we might be in for another late season snowstorm.
The lifeless trees protested as the icy wind rigidly shook them in the churning weather. We lived close to the high school, so I didn't ride the bus. Our house was across from a field that turned into a small forest that I called the woods. It had many paths, one of which cut through to the high school. Even though I was a senior and had a boyfriend with a cool Jeep, I found myself walking through the woods often.
As long as I could remember I loved spending time in nature. Every season held wonder. The wild flowers of spring, golden rays against green leaves of summer, raining fire colors of fall, and ghostly blues cast by the moons of winter. I'd rather be out in the country than be anywhere inside. It felt good out here. I was part of something bigger.
Since kindergarten, I knew I was a bit different, even before Mom died. I looked like everyone else, but felt like no one I met. As the years clumsily passed, I learned to fit in. I didn't mind girlie stuff, but it ranked low. Listening to and playing music under a tree in the woods was way more fun. It was all right tagging around with Lisa and her friends, but it would get old fast. I once heard her tell someone that my behavior was a side effect of my intelligence and that they should treat it like any other neurosis. I knew she meant well. It was more fun when it was just the two of us.
I heard one of Dad's temporary girlfriends say my weird behavior was a reaction - like it was chemical - to when Mom died, but it wasn't.
Mom saw my interest in nature from the time I was a toddler. She joked that I headed straight to the woods the second I could crawl. Mom, a science teacher, thought it was great and encouraged my interests. She took me for countless walks in the woods, even when it rained. She would explain all sorts of cool stuff to me. It didn't take long before I was raising tadpoles and caterpillars. Mom usually concluded most facts with: It's what we know so far... or another miracle right under our noses...
I loved to be around trees. I had so many favorites. Maples were easy to climb. Fruit trees flowered with amazing beauty. Pines were great for hiding and Oaks were good to sit under for a good cry. Any of them would be happy to share a starry night.
As I left my wooded sanctuary, I spied ghostly light flickering out the family room window. Charlie was home feeding his mind with TV. I hope he finished his homework so I could check it for him before I did my own.
As my feet traded the path for the sidewalk, my favorite little guy trotted out to greet me. As always, I was ear deep in music. Hi Jazz, I near-shouted, partially unplugged. I bent down and scratched his furry old head. He responded back with a meow-purr. Did you get any critters today?
The stout, Lynx Point Siamese zigzagged in front of me walking home. It was our ritual. I fell in love with Jazz long ago, the day I looked into his aqua eyes. The color of his irises were proof of magic. He followed me to the front door, wrapping himself around my legs.
Jazz, really, it's going to rain, go home now. I opened the door and darted in. He stood there like I had left him at the altar. Jazz wasn't mine, but I was definitely his.
Charlie was curled up on the couch grazing on the TV.
What's wrong? I asked. His young eyes carried baggage.
I don't feel good. The school nurse tried to call Dad, but he didn't answer. I spent over half the day in the nurse's office. I rubbed my hands together warming them. I knelt down and put my hand on his forehead.
You have a fever. Come on, let's get you something to eat and then up to bed.
I'm not hungry, he said without moving. Charlie was a good kid despite having had to grow up fast. Without a mom, and what remained of Dad, being a big sister felt more like being a parent.
How about chicken soup? Next time tell the school to contact me if they can't get Dad.
I told them to call you first, but you didn't answer either. he said with a rejected look on his face.
Sorry. I had powered down my phone to save the battery. I forgot to turn it back on.
I prodded Charlie into our tiny kitchen. I warmed up the soup, along with leftovers for Dad and me. As I served Charlie, the door exploded open. The burst of cold air robbed the house of what little heat was left. Dad was home. From the look on his face he was in a worse mood than usual. He was mumbling and cursing under his breath like a madman.
Hey Dad, Charlie isn't feeling well. The school tried calling you.
I wasn't at work! he abruptly interrupted. I could smell the alcohol. They cut my hours. I'm down to 24. A couple of us were at the tavern making our case with the union. Where's dinner? His chilly demeanor cut as strong as the polar wind whistling around our half-attached gutters. He shuffled in and plopped down at the table.
I pieced something together that resembled a meal.
Beer. He commanded, pulling in his bad leg.
Dad started drinking after Mom got sick. It didn't take long for him to become dependent on a bottle of some kind. The bottom gave way when he totaled the car, crushing his leg a month after we buried Mom. We've been in a long and drawn out downward spiral since. I have washed out memories of when he was happy. Charlie has none. The good times were long ago. All that is left now is a shell of what he used to be, or maybe something entirely different; something angry, caustic, and dependent on poison.
We never talked about how much we missed Mom. His self-made disaster, a hip and knee replacement, quickly took center stage. Missing her became the norm. Any memory of her turned Dad into an ugly drunk. It didn't take long for us to stop talking about her. Nevertheless, Charlie was a constant reminder of Mom; he had her bright, fawn-colored eyes.
Doing anything in the kitchen reminded me of Mom. She was the best cook, rarely measuring anything. She was older when she got pregnant with Charlie. We were so excited. Mom and Dad always hoped for a second child and I dreamed of a little brother or sister. I can still remember her belly growing while she spun around the kitchen.
Mom was six months pregnant with Charlie when they found a lump in her breast. Everything I called home unraveled, no matter how hard I wished for the cancer to go away. I felt, first hand, what change can really do. The helplessness scared me.
It's also when Esther became my 'grandma'. I came to understand family was more than just blood. Blood may be thicker than water, but both freeze solid.
Esther, Jazz's official owner, was our really old next-door neighbor. Dad said she was already elderly when we moved into the house. Esther was my first encounter with kindness of a stranger. She always had time to help, especially when Mom got sick.
Mom adored Ester. She took care of Charlie and me for months when Mom got too sick from the chemotherapy to get out of bed. Along with her teas, Esther helped Mom feel better by softly waving her hands just above her head. She would say she was adjusting Mom's light. She was an old, kooky, cool character like one out of a book. I would giggle, but I couldn't deny it worked. For a while it was the only thing that relieved the pain, but then nothing did.
I was never so sad as on that late winter day we lowered her in the ground. Leftover charcoal from defrosting the cemetery plot dirtied the pristine snow. In that moment, I knew there was no such thing as a broken heart...only cracked ones. Mine beat with a sad pain. I changed that day. My feelings of happy were buried in the cold, hard earth with Mom. Dad stood numb holding a screaming Charlie.
It was also the day I met Lisa. I ran out of the crowded house full of sad smiles to the only place I knew would make me feel better. In the center of the woods where all the paths met, Lisa stood crying. She was lost. She told me I looked nice and then asked me why I was crying. Before that day, she was just the girl down the street; since then, we've been soul sisters.
Lisa and I hung out constantly, although we were in different crowds. That made our friendship real and less complicated. We were tight before cool was something to be. I dabbled in the athletic and slightly nerdy groups, while Lisa was part of the popular crowd. Everyone loved her. She was sweet, funny, and pretty, never letting the attention go to her head. She was kind and always approachable.
I put the steaming Tupperware containers on the table. Dad dug in, always going first. We usually ate in silence. I turned to Charlie.
Please try to eat something.
What the hell is wrong with you, boy? Dad yelled. The force of his voice caused Charlie to straighten up. His eyes ran to me. I could feel the fear condensate along my spine. Anything could set Dad off when he was drinking, but today the rage was cocked in his eyes.
Dad, he is sick. Please. Charlie quickly picked up the spoon and started to slurp.
Just when I thought we had passed go, Charlie knocked over his glass of milk, sending a white tidal wave gushing over the table and onto the floor. My face flashed red foreseeing the oncoming storm. Dad rocketed out of his chair, sending it flying. My instincts kicked in, jumping up between Charlie and Dad. My heart pounded in my chest.
Please Dad, it was an accident. He doesn't feel good! I exclaimed frantically, trying to reason with a beast. I looked down at a defeated Charlie.
Move, Piper! I could feel his breath as he closed the distance between us.
He didn't do it on purpose! I shouted. I felt his iron grip on my arm. He wasn't a big man, but he had the strength of an ox. With one flick of his wrist, he sent me flying across the room. I landed hard against the counter. My ribs hit first, knocking the air out of me. The pain radiated out in all directions as I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes. Everything was still and dark for a moment. I opened my view to see Dad inches from Charlie. He was screaming and pointing in his face.
Dad looked at me with blame. You, clean this up! He gave Charlie a look of disgust. Go to your room and think about it," he ordered sternly. Charlie looked at me with sorry written all over his face. He ran quickly up the stairs. Dad, dragging his leg, slowly made his way to the refrigerator for another beer. He opened the bottle and threw the cap on the floor, watching me.
I cleaned up the kitchen while Dad watched TV. I had gotten good at putting everything in order over the years. Inconspicuously, I made Charlie a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich. I knew he would be hungry. As I was finishing up, the phone rang. It was Lisa.
Hey, can I call you back? Thanks, I whispered. I turned all the lights off except for the one above the sink. That was the signal that the kitchen was closed and clean. I smuggled the sandwich past Dad to go upstairs. I'm going to do homework. He said nothing back as I darted up the stairs.
Knock, knock. I opened Charlie's bedroom door.
Hey, he said in a muffled tone. Charlie was lying face down on the bed.
I got you something. He smiled a thank you. He wolfed down the sandwich with man-sized bites. I'll get you a glass of warm milk and honey when Dad goes to sleep. That will fix you up.
Thanks, Piper, he said like a true kid.
Are you feeling any better?
Rest up and try to work on your homework. I'll see how you are doing in a bit.
I went in my bedroom and took off my shirt. I was going to have a big bruise where I hit the counter. Without knowing, a tear streamed down my face. I was already worrying about how Charlie would manage when I went to college this fall. I couldn't wait for high school to be over and to get out of the house, but my heart would stay with him. With a heavy foot and a fast car, I could get back from Madison in little over an hour.
Just then, I heard a meow at the window.
Jazz...you crazy cat. In a hurry, I let him in along with several snowflakes. You are a sight for sore eyes. What are you doing outside during a snow storm? Jazz meowed loudly, rubbing up against me. Shhh, Dad is in a horrible mood and he'd kill me if he knew you were in the house. Dad was weird; he didn't like animals. Jazz responded with a muffed grunt, strutting like he owned the place. I put him on my bed. He quickly started to knead the blankets to get it just right to rest his fur.
It seemed Jazz spent more time with me than with Esther. He was like my feline guardian angel. He would cuddle next to me and lick my nose. I would talk to him like a best friend telling him everything, even more than Lisa. He blinked his big cerulean eyes occasionally as if he was contemplating all my secrets. In return, I gave him slices of bologna he would devour in seconds while purring. In the morning, Jazz would wake me up just before my alarm. I would open the window and he would jump out in a blur and return to the wild.
Esther knew Jazz slept with me at night. She was rarely concerned about his whereabouts. I felt better when he was with me. Despite being a fierce and crafty nomad, with the woods so close by, a fox or a coyote could snatch him up. Esther thought it was delightful that Jazz had taken such a fancy to me. It amused her.
Since I was a little girl, I had made it a habit to visit Esther once a week. I felt a kinship with her after Mom died. Like us, she had no relatives in the area. She knew a lot of history, especially of the neighborhood. I mostly stopped by after school. We always found something to talk about. She loved to hear about my day, claiming it helped her leave the house and stay connected to the outside world. I knew she enjoyed our visits as much as I did.
I would ask about her life, but she wouldn't say much. Her husband, Cal, had passed way many years ago, crushing her heart. Talking about it made her melancholy. She had no children or siblings. She led a solitary, but content, life. She always said the future of the youth was so brilliant. I wish I had her faith.
I put my sleeping tee on and settled in my child-sized desk to do my homework. I was in the advanced placement classes, which gave us extra assignments on top of the normal load. Every night I had a minimum of two hours of studying. I didn't mind. I saw the extra effort as a way out of Oak Creek. I worked hard for my grades, which had gotten me a hefty scholarship.
Finishing up my Calculus homework, I heard the TV go off downstairs. I waited for the loud snoring to come up through the heating vents.
Jazz was sleeping soundly curled up by my pillow. I slowly opened the door, since it made more noise than a rusty wheel. Dad did little upkeep and it had really started to show. As I slipped out the bedroom, Jazz slowly open one almond-shaped eye with a look of caution. I froze for a second.
I crept downstairs and got milk, mixed in a tablespoon of honey, and nuked it. Dad snored over the hum of the microwave. I stopped the countdown before the ending beep. I used my finger to stir it, testing the temperature. Perfect. I tiptoed up the creaking stairs and slowly opened Charlie's door. He was fast asleep on his math book, sleeping like a baby. I carefully closed the book, set it on his little desk, and covered him up with blankets. I closed the door, leaving him to dream.
I cautiously opened my door and slipped in. I drank the warm milk, petting Jazz. He stretched and let out a big yawn, sniffing the air towards the glass.
Getting into bed, I remembered to call Lisa back.
Hi Lisa, I hope it's not too late? My dad had another fit. Typical.
Are you kidding? Calculus is keeping me up. What is with these integrations? she asked, frustrated.
I can help you tomorrow before class. The problems are too long for phoning. So what's up?
Oh cool! Don't forget about band practice tomorrow night. We have a lot of work in front of us. I don't want to look stupid!
Whoa, I forgot, what are we going to perform? Do we know? I asked with a note of unenthusiastic curiosity. Lisa, Chris, Josh, and I were in a band called the Coat Tails.
I breathed music. The vibes fed my soul. Along with nature, song twirled through my veins. Like trees, I had all kinds of favorites depending on my mood. From country to hard rock, fast or slow, my heart felt best beating to a tune.
Every year the seniors performed a talent show for the entire school. Previous shows were amazing, some really good bands. We auditioned, making the cut; I couldn't believe it. We formed the band our junior year when Chris and I started dating. Chris was an amazing guitar player. Josh, Chris's best friend, was on the drums. Lisa was on keyboards. I played bass and was nominated as the lead vocalist. I could carry a tune, but was stronger sharing the vocals with Lisa.
I still could not believe I agreed to it. Having fun in Chris's basement was far away from playing in front of everyone I knew. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. It was in the distant future, plus it was so important to Chris. Now it was just a month away. Although we've been playing for a while, we were only hobby good. We'd never had an official gig.
I hope we do something retro, like from the 70s. I said. I listened to Mom's old tunes a lot. The music was classic and kept her close.
Yes! My vote is something from Fleetwood Mac, Lisa said, determined. 'Rhiannon' would be cool.
Stevie Nicks rocks, but that song is practically a solo! I said with a note of upset.
Come on. I already talked to Chris and Josh. They love it! The song kicks ass, she added with excitement. Just try it before you freak.
I don't know. We'll see, I said accepting my fate.
Great! We'll try it tomorrow. Practice at 3:30, she claimed victoriously.
It will have to be 4:30. I have swimming practice, I said unenthusiastically.
Ugh, I don't know why you joined the swim team. It wrecks your hair, she stated matter-of-factly.
Ha ha, see you tomorrow before class! I closed my cell phone.
I got under the covers. The storm outside battered the window. I hoped this was the last snow of the season. I looked forward to the lime greens of spring. I connected headphones to my phone and put Rhiannon on repeat. Humming along, I memorized the words. I turned off the light and pulled Jazz in close under the covers. I relished his warmth. He was a living stuffed animal when he was deep in sleep. At this moment, I felt safe. I kissed Jazz good night, listened to the music, and drifted.
Asoft and furry nose pushed against my chin accompanied by a familiar purr. Good morning boy, I said cracking open my eyes. To my delight, sunlight was pouring into the room. Last night's storm was over and the golden rays brought in fresh prospects for the day. About three inches of snow blanketed everything, but was rapidly melting in the bright sunshine.
Jazz jumped off the bed and sauntered to the window.
Meeeeeoow! he said long and drawn out with paws on the sill.
Ok. Ok. I walked over and opened the window. Like a moving cloud, Jazz zoomed out and down the tree effortlessly. Please tell Esther I will come by tomorrow. I smirked as if he could understand me. Too much going on today for a visit.
Everything outside glistened, drops of water chiming with sounds of dripping ice. I reached over and stopped my cell phone still playing Rhiannon. Even singing solo seemed possible today!
I grabbed my basket of products and headed to the bathroom. I knocked on Charlie's door on the way.
Wake up. Getting ready didn't take long. I wore little makeup. Even though I was a senior in high school, Dad did not approve of me whoring up so I kept it light or put it on after leaving the house. My ash-blond hair was long and extremely straight. I usually wore it in a ponytail. My skin was pale with breakouts. I mostly tried to give my dull hazel eyes some color.
You up? I asked outside Charlie's door.
Yeah, he said in a half-asleep tone followed by a big yawn.
How are you feeling? I opened his door. It creaked like it was stiff from a long sleep.
Way better. He reached up and stretched.
Good. Maybe it was a twenty-four hour bug. See you downstairs. I was relieved Charlie got better so fast. It was one less thing to worry about. I came down the stairs as Dad was putting on his jacket. Hey Dad, Charlie's better. No reaction. I have swim practice and then we are going to rehearse for the senior talent show so I should be home by 5:30 or 6.
Don't be late, he barked walking out the door.
I guess the sunshine didn't put him in a good mood. No matter. I went to the kitchen humming Rhiannon. I put together a quick breakfast for Charlie and called upstairs, Hurry up or you'll miss the bus. Charlie flew down the stairs knowing being late meant Dad would have to leave work.
Just as we were finishing breakfast, I heard the Jeep beep outside. Chris was here. I waved to him out the kitchen window. Chris, my one and only, was the first boy who didn't care that I was some kind of nature's child. He liked walks in the woods, was in the advanced placement classes, and was almost as music crazy as me. We made playlists for each other and shared new bands. He brought me back something I missed...hope.
He was the perfect boyfriend. I thought I was in love with him, but didn't quite know what that meant so I wasn't totally sure. He made me feel special and I felt more for him than any other person - besides Charlie and Lisa, of course.
Charlie, time to go. I put our dishes in the sink. Chris picked me up every morning. It was really sweet. The sporty Jeep fit his outdoor personality and mine.
Chris made me feel normal. He was good looking with short blond hair, blue eyes, and boyish charm. His structured face supported his big smile.
Chris and I started dating shortly after we were assigned as biology partners. He got accepted to the University of Wisconsin-Madison as well. Marrying him some day was a likely picture I took of my future.
Don't forget these. I tossed Charlie his gloves, counting to make sure he had all the things he needed.
Chris came from the most normal family I knew. I would have dinner there on occasion. His parents were nice, so completely the opposite of Dad. On holidays they invited all of us over; of course Dad declined. Emily, Chris's younger sister, was in the same grade as Charlie. Chris's dad was an engineer and was good for helping us with tough homework. His mom was a nurse and a superb cook. The feeling of belonging to his family was comforting. It was a pleasant escape from my wrecked home. It's what I imagined our family to be if Mom had beaten the cancer.
Charlie's bus stop was at the corner of our street. We put our jackets on and greeted the sunshine. The warmth of the sun teased against the morning cold. For some reason, it quickened my soul more than usual.
Have a good day, I told Charlie heartily. He was already walking towards the group of grade school students waiting. I couldn't believe my baby brother was going to be in junior high next year. I'll be home late tonight, after practice.
See ya, Charlie waved without turning around. He was busy stomping through the wet, heavy snow. Like me, Charlie already had a good group of friends. We rarely fought like a typical brother and sister, but our lives were anything but normal.
Hey babe, I said, jumping into the Jeep. I leaned over to kiss Chris.
Hey. He offered me his cold cheek.
It's nice to see you, too, I chimed back, perplexed. Looks like the snow will melt by the end of the day. Hopefully it's the last of the season.
I wouldn't count on it. Chris drove away.
Ouch. My safely belt reminded me of last night's injury. I was sore where I hit the counter.
Nothing. Chris didn't like my dad to begin with. I definitely couldn't tell him about last night's mess.
We drove in strange silence. We usually talked about something on the way to school, or sang, but today Chris was millions of miles away. With band practice, we spent a lot of time together both in and outside of school. Often he would drive me home after my shifts at Malts&Shakes. Lately with constant preparations for the impending end of high school and start of college, we had been missing each other. I knew when something was bothering him. It troubled me that he wouldn't say what was on his mind.
We continued the short drive to school in silence. I knew he would tell me eventually, but the suspense was killing me.
Rounding the corner, I broke down. Well? Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? It's a great day out. The forsythias are going to bloom any...
Yeah, Piper, he interrupted me. We'll talk after practice tonight, no big deal. Did you learn the song?
Finally, he was talking. Yeah, but what is going on? Why wait until tonight? My voice marched an octave higher, tightened by agitation.
We pulled into the school parking lot. It's nothing. We'll talk about it later. He reached out and took my hand. His touch reassured me, but his unusual words opened Pandora's Box. I quickly scanned through the last couple of days. Nothing came to mind. He kept the faraway look on his face. Maybe it was something at home, but that was highly unlikely.
We got out of the car and started to walk into the school. Lisa
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Adrien Rabiot Biography, Age, Career, Net Worth, Salary, Awards, Family, Personal Life, and Many More
February 22, 2021 By Sourav
Adrien Rabiot-Provos
Football Midfielder
156lbs (71 Kgs)
Saint-Maurice, France
French youngster Adrien Rabiot currently plays as a central midfielder for the Italian Serie A club Juventus besides making regular appearances for the France national football team. He started his football journey with his native side Créteil. Eventually, he joined PSG academy and has earned his promotion to the first squad in 2012. Since then, he has spent his career with the club and has won several accolades with the squad.
Adrien Rabiot Biography
Adrien-Rabiot
Rabiot, in his six seasons of senior till now, has won several trophies with PSG. He won 16 major trophies for the club till now. Besides, he also helped the club to secure the French treble in the 2015-16 season. Rabiot has played more than 140 matches for PSG till now while scoring twelve times. Besides club football, he also marked his prominence in the international circuit. He has participated in 53 matches for the French youth squads. Then in 2016, he made his senior professional debut with Les Blues.
Adrien Rabiot Early Career
Rabiot started his footballing journey with the youth academy of his native side Créteil-Lusitanos in 2001, at the age of just six. After three seasons, he moved to Alfortville and spent a season there. He then rejoined Créteil and spent another four seasons at the academy. Rabiot joined the youth side of Premier League champion Manchester United for few months in 2008. After that brief stint, he joined the French semi-professional side Pau FC in 2008. Then next season, he moved to Pôle Espoirs de Castelmaurou. Finally, in 2010, he joined the youth academy of Paris Saint-Germain.
Adrien Rabiot Paris Saint-Germain Career
Rabiot went through a rigorous training program for two seasons at the Camp des Loges from 2010 to 2012. He then signed his first professional three-year contract with PSG on 2nd July 2012. One of the greatest football managers, Carlo Ancelotti, promoted him to the first team ahead of the 2012-13 football season. Shortly after, he made his senior debut for the club against Barcelona on 8th August 2012. He then made his Ligue 1 debut against Bordeaux on 26th August 2012.
Rabiot made his UEFA Champions League debut in a 'group stage' match against Dinamo Zagreb on 6th November 2012. He joined fellow Ligue 1 side, Toulouse, on a season-long loan deal in January 2013. Shortly after, he scored his first senior professional goal for Toulouse against Brest on 9th March 2013. He rejoined PSG in 2014 and helped the side to secure the domestic league twice consecutively. Rabiot scored his first European competitive goal for PSG in a UEFA Champions League 'group stage' match against Malmö on 25th November 2015. Shortly after, he made his Coupe de la Ligue debut against Lille on 23rd April 2016.
Adrien Rabiot International Career
Rabiot made his international debut for the French U-16 team in 2010. He then made his consecutive debuts for U-17 and U-18 teams between 2011 and 2012. He made his U-19 debut in 2012 and has played 20 matches for the side while scoring four times. Finally, on 13th August 2013, he made his debut for the French U-21 squad in a friendly match against Germany in Freiburg. He has then earned his place in the French senior squad to participate in the 2016 UEFA Euro but remained as an unused substitute.
Rabiot finally made his senior international debut in a friendly match against Ivory Coast on 15th November 2016. Didier Deschamps then named him in the reserve French squad on 17th May 2018, to participate in the 2018 FIFA World Cup in Russia. He then made a controversial statement and refused to participate in the training program for the reserve side. He emailed Deschamps that he would not "be able to follow the training program". The media created a buzz on that and he eventually lost his position from the reserve side.
Adrien Rabiot Personal Life
Born in Val-de-Marne, France, Adrien Rabiot is of pure French descent. He grew up in the Saint-Maurice neighborhood under the guidance of his father, Michel Rabiot, and his mother, Veronique Rabiot. Interestingly, his mother Veronique is the current agent of Adrien.
Adrien Rabiot Net Worth
The current net worth of Adrien Rabiot is estimated to be around €9 million as of 2021. His market value now stands at €50 million as of the ongoing football season of 2020-21. He now gets nearly €60,000 weekly wage from his current Serie A side Juventus. Besides his huge income from football, he also made his wealth through several of his personal endorsements. Rabiot is now associated with sports manufacturing company Adidas and wears their Predator 18.1 soccer cleats.
Adrien Rabiot Awards
With Paris Saint-Germain, Rabiot has achieved the French Ligue 1 title five times from 2013 to 2021. He also achieved Coupe de France and Trophée des Champions four times each with the club. Besides, he also helped PSG to win the prestigious Coupe de la Ligue five times consecutively from 2014 to 2018. He has also earned his place in the UEFA European Under-19 Championship 'Team of the Tournament' in 2013.
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Donald Trump's Bad Deal for Europe
Why a presidential victory for Donald Trump might leave Europe having to fend for itself
Jeremy Shapiro @JyShapiro on Twitter
In Europe, as in America, there is a morbid fascination with the US presidential election. For 2016, the principal attraction has been Donald Trump and the spectacle of a man leading the Republican field with a unique blend of celebrity megalomania and nativist xenophobia. It has all made for a very good show.
But after the first two primary contests, it may be time to take the whole thing somewhat more seriously. The Iowa and New Hampshire election contests have not brought much clarity to the race, but they do demonstrate that Donald Trump is for real. It seems that the Republican Party establishment will not be coalescing around a single standard-bearer any time soon, and Hillary Clinton has once again demonstrated her perennial weaknesses as a candidate. We need to imagine the unimaginable: what if Donald Trump becomes President of the United States? More specifically, what would that mean for Europe?
It is of course hard to know what a president Trump would really do. He has abhorred specifics throughout the campaign, and on foreign policy especially he has embraced a level of inconsistency that celebrates the idea that the dictates of logic end at the nation's shores. So with one breath he can declare a profound disinterest in using force abroad, but with the next propose to "bomb the shit" out of ISIS-controlled oil fields in Iraq and Syria and surround them with a "ring" of American troops.
But, as my Brookings colleague Thomas Wright, has demonstrated, a core consistency has animated Trump's understanding of foreign policy for decades: America is getting a raw deal. America, in his view, has been stuck with the bill for global security for generations and gotten precious little in return. It secures Europe and Japan, yet is forced to pay for the privilege. It liberated Kuwait and Iraq, yet gave the oil wealth there to others who stood by and watched American soldiers die in their defense.
This sense of a bad bargain makes Trump angrier at America's allies than at its enemies. America's enemies strike hard deals, but at least you know where you stand. So he can imagine that Russian President Vladimir Putin is someone he "would get along with very well". But America's allies are like poor relatives, who play on your sympathies to borrow money and then spend all day frolicking in your gold-plated swimming pool. So when it comes to Angela Merkel all he sees is someone who is "sitting back" and "accepting all the oil and gas that they can get from Russia" while the United States is "leading Ukraine".
The central idea of Trump's foreign policy is that he is going to get a better deal from US allies. In Trump's version of the transatlantic alliance, a better deal means European allies like Germany will have to pay for American protection. More than that, it means that they should not need American protection at all. He will expect Europe to shoulder the burden for dealing with conflicts that are European not American problems, such as the war in Ukraine and the refugee crisis.
Of course, the need for more equitable burden sharing has been present in American policy for decades. President Obama's pivot to Asia reflected the idea that Europe was capable of dealing with its own problems and that the excessive American military presence in Europe had enabled Europeans to neglect their own forces. US Secretary of Defense Bob Gates ended his tenure in office in 2011 with a blistering attack on European irresponsibility in defense.
But the difference between Obama and Trump highlights what is new about Trump. Previous US efforts to equalize the burden, including Obama's, have always been based on the idea that Europe's security and prosperity are a core American interest and therefore must be protected—by Europe if possible, and by the United States if necessary. Previous American presidents have explicitly looked for a more equitable partnership with Europe when it comes to protecting both Europe and its neighborhood, but they have not sought to abandon Europe and leave it to its own devices.
Along these lines, the Obama administration has made the case that the European refugee crisis is America's problem too. It has supported a NATO mission to cut off smuggling routes into Europe through the Eastern Mediterranean, but pushed Europeans to lead it. Similarly, the administration has looked find a balance in its response to the Russian aggression in Ukraine that both puts principal responsibility on the Europeans but also supports them with American power. Toward that end, US Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter recently announced that US would quadruple its military spending in Europe in 2017 to counter Russian aggression in the East.
The bipartisan American idea that Europe must be protected, as Trump has no doubt noticed, weakens US bargaining leverage with Europe because it implies that the United States will take up whatever slack Europe leaves behind. But it also reflects an historically sound belief that the United States cannot ultimately stand aside from European conflicts.
Trump, in contrast, believes in walls and in oceans. In this view, America can stand aside from problems in other regions and should not help on the European refugee crisis, for example, because "we have our own problems". This type of thinking would strengthen his bargaining power with Europe and other US allies considerably. But in the process it might destroy the transatlantic partnership that has made both sides of the Atlantic so secure and prosperous.
If this seems like a bad deal for Europe (and for America), that's because it is. But Trump's view of allies represents only an extreme version of a growing feeling in the United States that, in a time of relative decline, the country is getting a raw deal from its allies. Trump will probably not be president in 2017 and the transatlantic alliance will likely endure the next US president in something like its current form. But the partnership cannot persist along the current lines for too much longer. Europeans would be wise to take more proactive measures to visibly increase the defence burden they bear under the next president, no matter who she is. Otherwise, they won't be ready when Ivanka Trump runs in 2024.
More on European Power
Russia-proofing Europe
Mark Leonard


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Motor Mouth: A sobering wakeup call as clocks fall back
Mazda sticking with plan to introduce diesels in North America
Driving wins big at AJAC Automotive Journalism awards
Drivers may be gaining an extra hour of sleep as the clocks fall back Sunday, but pedestrians have more to fear in the dark
by David Booth | October 30, 2015
As clocks fall back, evening hours become darker faster and visibility becomes reduced, putting kids walking home from school at greater risk of being struck by cars.Spencer Platt
Is Daylight Savings Time a life saver? Is switching back to Standard Time killing us? Perhaps more importantly, especially to parents, is switching our clocks back an hour in the fall placing the most vulnerable among us — kids on their way home from school — unnecessarily in harm's way.
That's certainly the contention of SmartWitness, a British motor safety company promoting dash cams for safety purposes. Their research, performed by former Chief Constable of England's West Yorkshire police Keith Hellawell, claims that "stopping the clocks going back … could save hundreds of children's lives."
The evidence is compelling. According to Hellawell, more than 1,200 children have died as the result of car-pedestrian accidents in the past 10 years and the peak time for pedestrian casualties is just after 4 p.m. on weekdays, when children are making their way home from school. More importantly, SmartWitness's research reveals that "the highest rate of vehicle usage comes in Quarter 3 (July, August, September) of pretty much every year since records began and yet, despite this fact, the casualty rates are higher in Quarter 4 (October, November, December)." Even more telling is that the number of accidents involving all pedestrians is much higher — 37 per cent — in the evening than it is in the morning.
As the clocks fall back, don't be left in the dark
Bright dashboards and daytime lights continue to fool us
Indeed, all the research points to the source of the problem being schoolchildren walking home in the dark. "When the clocks go back at the end of October, most schoolchildren are making their way home in the dark, and this contributes to a great number of casualties on the roads," Hellawell said. He also points out that in the equally short days of January and February, fatalities are reduced because pedestrians — kids and adults alike — find a warmer method of transport.
Simple acclimatization is at least partly to blame for the increase in fatalities, with drivers and pedestrians both not yet used to the diminished daylight; Hellawell blames limited visibility for reducing reaction times. "Driver and pedestrian reaction times are considerably reduced at nighttime, and even at urban road speeds of 30 miles per hour (48 km/h) this can mean the difference between life and death."
Drivers should be at their most vigilant when driving in the dark.
Most research in North America, meanwhile, has focused simply on the diminished sleep time drivers get in the first few weeks after clocks spring forward, blaming less shut-eye for diminished focus and poor reaction times. Indeed, most North American research has noted an increased number of car accidents immediately after the clocks move forward an hour in March.
However, a 2007 study by the Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh also showed that in the first few weeks after the fall switch, pedestrians were three times more likely to get hit by a car than just before the changeover. And, like the British study, Carnegie Mellon researchers found the increased fatalities occurred only at night, with early morning and mid-day statistics largely unaffected. Indeed, they also found that pedestrian accidents were reduced when the clocks sprung forward again in spring.
In England, the subject of clock optimization and its affect on road safety has received an incredible amount of attention. Indeed, according to David Williams, MBE and chief executive of GEM Motoring Assist, a recent private member's bill that called for a switch to Single/Double British Summertime (one hour ahead in the winter, two in the summer) was defeated only by filibuster by some Scottish MPs (ironically, research seems to indicate that Scottish pedestrians have the most to gain by the switch).
Of course, one might think that any reduction in accidents as the result of more evening daylight would be offset by an equal increase in fatalities in the now darker morning.
But no, recent analysis by Britain's Transport Research Laboratory (TRL) showed that although there was a rise in darker morning accidents, "there was a net reduction in overall casualties, i.e. the reduction in the evenings exceeded the increase in the mornings." Perhaps more important is the TRL's conclusion that "the effects of darkness are found to be greater for pedestrians than for vehicle occupants, and to be greater for fatalities than for non-fatal casualties."
The reason for the dramatic increase is simple, says Williams: "In the morning, drivers and children have a sense of purpose, getting to work and school. But, in the evening, drivers are tired and kids are playing. Coupled with the fact that daylight is diminishing, not increasing [as it is in the morning], it's little wonder that the walk home is the most dangerous time of day." Indeed, according to GEM, a road safety charity, three times more children are injured on the way home from school than on the way to their institute of higher learning.
It's a point to consider on Sunday when you turn the clocks back.
Keith Hellawell
Transport Research Laboratory
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Jordan: Bickerstaff won't return as Bobcats coach
Jordan: Bickerstaff won't return as coach
CHARLOTTE, N.C. -- Bernie Bickerstaff will not return as coach of the Charlotte Bobcats next season but will be invited to stay with the organization.
Part-owner Michael Jordan said Tuesday that Bickerstaff, who also serves as general manager, will finish the season and remains an "integral part" of the franchise. Charlotte is 23-41 and last in the Southeast Division.
"I don't see him distancing himself away," Jordan said. "I feel he's been an important part to getting this franchise to where it is now. It will give me the most pleasure to continue that process until we get to where we have to go."
Bickerstaff, 67-161 in three seasons, said when he was first hired to run the expansion team that he wanted to coach for only two or three years before becoming the full-time GM. But when Jordan was brought in as a minority owner and given the final say on basketball decisions, Bickerstaff's future was in doubt.
"I want him involved," Jordan said. "We just haven't decided if that's as general manager or president of basketball operations. I see him staying with the organization."
Jordan, in his first meeting with local reporters since June, said he has yet to begin a search for a new coach.
"We haven't got to that point," Jordan said. "Bernie is still going to finish out the season. When the season is over, he and I will sit down and have those type of conversations -- who best suits the structure of players we have on this team."
One coach who might be contacted about the Bobcats opening is Larry Brown because of his ties to North Carolina and Jordan. However, Brown told The Philadelphia Inquirer that he hasn't been contacted yet.
"No one has contacted me. I have no idea what to expect, and I really don't care, at the moment, because I'm enjoying my life watching the game of basketball, being around a lot of the coaches and just getting my enthusiasm back," Brown told the newspaper.
"As far as Charlotte goes, everyone knows I have a very special relationship with Michael. I've known him for years. We're family, and I love him. So saying 'no' to him would be almost impossible for me, just because it would be hard for me to say 'No' to him about anything. But I haven't heard anything from him and I have no idea what my future holds," he told the newspaper.
Bickerstaff, who was not at Jordan's press conference and not immediately available for comment, was one of owner Bob Johnson's first hires when he was awarded the team. The 62-year-old Bickerstaff has been the head coach at Seattle, Denver and Washington, serving the dual role of coach and GM with the SuperSonics and Nuggets.
Bickerstaff was credited with taking leading scorer Gerald Wallace in the expansion draft and selecting leading rebounder Emeka Okafor and point guard Raymond Felton in the college draft. Charlotte, with Jordan making the final call in last June's draft, selected Adam Morrison with the No. 3 overall pick.
"When we got the team, Bernie was present at the creation," Johnson said. "He molded the team and the culture of the team, which was to play hard and be a credit to yourself and your community. It's a tribute to Bernie.
"The decision was made by Bernie, Michael and myself, and I hope that he'll continue in the organization in a capacity that we can agree on," he said.
Johnson, who brought on Jordan as a minority owner last spring, said Jordan will make the final call on the new coach.
"I have absolute confidence in Michael to make the decision on who he thinks will be the best second coach in the Bobcats history," Johnson said.
While he's widely considered one of the all-time best on the court, Jordan has yet to prove he can effectively run a basketball team. After winning six NBA titles with the Chicago Bulls, he was hired as president of basketball operations for the Washington Wizards in 2000. But Jordan was fired three years later, receiving the most criticism for selecting underachieving Kwame Brown with the No. 1 overall pick in the 2001 draft.
Critics also assailed Jordan for running the Wizards while living in suburban Chicago. Jordan said Tuesday he plans to buy a home in Charlotte but expects to continue his role behind the scenes.
"I'm operating manager for the investors. I oversee the basketball operations," Jordan said. "Does that put me in the office for a 9-to-5 situation? No."
Jordan also said the team plans to try to re-sign Wallace if he opts out of the final year of his contract and becomes a free agent this summer, and Okafor, who is eligible for a contract extension at the end of the season.
"We've got a lot of things to do to secure the nucleus," Jordan said. "We're close and we want to sustain this long-term. I think we have to make that commitment financially. When the time comes, we will."


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A Taste of the Infinite: 8 Characters Who (Briefly) Went Cosmic
With Superior Spider-Man going cosmic, we recall other characters who touched such power.
Living in the Marvel Universe means that there exists a good chance you might someday finding yourself possessing incredible powers from beyond the stars. In SUPERIOR SPIDER-MAN #3, available now, Otto Octavius rides that dragon for the first time. However, he enters good company. Here are some heroes and villains he may want to contact after the high to get support in the come-down.
Doom does not enjoy playing second fiddle to anyone. He refuses to accept Mr. Fantastic's intellectual superiority, for instance. So when the Marvel Universe first revealed the cosmic powers that lay beyond Earth's fragile atmosphere, it should come as no surprise the Doctor viewed this as a sort of challenge to his mindset.
Therefore, Victor quickly set his sights on a tasty target: the shiny surveyor of the skies, the Silver Surfer. And Doom showed that, in fact, he does have a few tricks up his sleeve. Not only did Doom steal all Surfer's power but he snagged Norrin Radd's board for good measure. Only the barrier that trapped Surfer on Earth in the first place kept Latveria's ruler from going HAM on the wider universe.
Doom took on the Power Cosmic again during the first SECRET WAR, when the Beyonder makes the mistake of giving Doom a new body. Doom needed a new body after he obliterated his last one by, you guessed it, trying to steal a herald of Galactus's power. After refusing to learn a darn thing, Doom immediately attempted to steal the Beyonder's abilities and succeeded. No wonder he never learns – he gets it right WAY too often.
The power ultimately overwhelmed Victor in short order and the Beyonder took advantage of it, taking back what was rightfully his.
Regardless of how you may feel about Galactus's appetites, one has to admit he has a great eye for talent. Take the time he looked to Marvel's greatest pop star and realized, "Yes, she can handle the Power Cosmic."
So he plucked her from Earth and gave it to her. Then, to really up the ante, he exposed her to all the noises of an exploding galaxy. However, he knew that Dazzler, at her core, remained too dedicated to justice to find him a midnight snack so he directed her on a mission of mercy. The Mistress of Sound delivered, of course, by snagging Terrax the Tamer out of a black hole, saving his life and giving Galactus back a herald who would not let him go hungry.
This one has some complexity so we will try to make it as straight forward as possible.
In order to punish and put Marvel's First Family off their game, Doctor Doom changed all their powers around. Johnny Storm ended up with his sister Sue's power set, meaning he could go invisible, project a force field, and, most importantly in this case, see things that have gone invisible.
Galactus, meanwhile, discovered that after treating the known galaxy as his own personal buffet for nigh on a millennia, the denizens of said galaxy realized something: Galactus cannot eat what he cannot see.
However, Galactus knew a certain woman with the ability to make the invisible visible. So off to Earth the Devourer of Worlds went, only to find that the Human Torch now had that gift. Galactus improvised, adapted to the environment, and in the end, Johnny Storm got the Power Cosmic.
Thankfully before the Human Revealer had to expose a planet for Galactus to snack on, his family bailed him out, returned Galactus to his long-ago human form, and let Johnny ditch the power.
Oh, you don't know about the Golden Oldie? Goodness! How embarrassing for you!
Forced into gladiatorial combat, Red Hulk wasted no time in going for the big prize: the Silver Surfer. Improbably getting the upper hand on the former Galactus herald, Red Hulk absorbed his tremendous power before turning it loose on the other heroes and villains the Elders of the Universe had selected for their sick games.
In the end, Red Hulk could not hold onto the power. But he was able to steal Terrax's ax and punch Dormammu right in his face.
The Phoenix Force
After the death of Jean Grey, the Phoenix seemingly disappeared. However, it soon reappeared, rushing towards Earth. With Hope Summers prepared to fulfill her destiny by taking it into herself, some other X-Men under Cyclops had a better idea: they took it instead.
The Phoenix Force—made up of Cyclops, Magik, Colossus, Emma Frost, and Namor—became beacons of powers with the ability to make incredible change in the world. Instead, they behaved like monsters, destroying nations and killing mentors, until they turned on each other. In the end, Cyclops stood alone and finally let go of the spectacular power. Alas, far, far too late.
As you may recall, Wolverine's blood once landed on a powerful crystal, merging him with it. For one brief moment, Logan had all the power he needed to remake the world, the universe even, in any way he saw fit. Thankfully, he had self-control and opted to just reverse the events of the past hour or so and destroy the crystal and, with it, the temptation.
While we feel sure Otto will pretend this did not happen, he cannot claim to be the first arachnid to possess incredible cosmic power. Peter Parker did it before he did when a failed college experiment somehow connected Parker to the Uni-Power. For those that do not know, the Uni-Power makes the recipient into Captain Universe, also known as "the hero that could be you!"
Spidey eventually used the power to put down the impressively dangerous Tri-Sentinel, but he honestly kind of wasted it until then, living under the mistaken impression that his usual powers had just increased by a bit. Eventually, the full Uni-Power revealed itself and the wallcrawler caught on. However, due to the vagaries of the way the Uni-Power works and Parker's own morality, the full union ended up a short-lived one.
SUPERIOR SPIDER-MAN #3, written by Christos Gage with art by Mike Hawthorne, is available now online and at your local comic shop!
In this article: Doctor Doom (Victor von Doom), Silver Surfer, Doctor Octopus (Otto Octavius), Spider-Man (Peter Parker)


Kendall and Castro-Alves: Should ondansetron be used as a routine prophylaxis agent for postoperative nausea and vomiting?
Korean Journal of Anesthesiology 2018;71(5):413-414.
1. Ismail EA, Bakri MH, Abd-Elshafy SK. Dexamethasone alone versus in combination with intra-operative super-hydration for postoperative nausea and vomiting prophylaxis in female patients undergoing laparoscopic cholecystectomy: a randomized clinical trial. Korean J Anesthesiol 2017; 70: 535–41.
2. Kwak KH. PONV prevention: still not enough. Korean J Anesthesiol 2017; 70: 489–90.
3. Zhang Z, Xu H, Zhang Y, Li W, Yang Y, Han T, et al. Nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs for postoperative pain control after lumbar spine surgery: a meta-analysis of randomized controlled trials. J Clin Anesth 2017; 43: 84–9.
4. Dube P, Mitra S, Singh J, Saroa R, Mehra R. Intravenous dexamethasone as an adjunct to improve labor analgesia: a randomized, doubleblinded, placebo controlled clinical trial. J Clin Anesth 2017; 43: 6–10.
5. Gan TJ, Diemunsch P, Habib AS, Kovac A, Kranke P, Meyer TA, et al. Consensus guidelines for the management of postoperative nausea and vomiting. Anesth Analg 2014; 118: 85–113.


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