Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan

Non-profit Healthcare | Medical Technology

[𝕲𝖚𝖗𝖚 𝕭𝖗𝖚𝖓𝖔 🇮🇳 @spinesurgeon]

Are you completed or pursuing MPH / MHA / MSW / Postgraduate degree or diploma in Public Health, Health Management, Public Policy, Social Sciences, Epidemiology, or related disciplines ?

Do you want to Intern ?

There is an opening for you
https://t.co/4ZrIMfrfLd

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.

Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.

One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.

Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.

Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"

"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."

He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."

The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."

Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.

But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,

"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."

So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.

Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."

Let this story reach more hearts....

Credit: Mary Nelson

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

Redefining purpose as we get older 👏👏👏

[Mr PitBull Stories @MrPitbull07]

"I’m 79. My name’s Agnes. I walk to Oakwood Elementary every Tuesday and Thursday at 2:45 p.m. Not for my grandkids, I don’t have any. I go for them. The kids waiting for parents who are late. Again.

It started three years ago. I saw Miguel sitting alone on the school’s concrete steps, tracing math problems in the dirt with a stick. His mom worked double shifts at the canning factory. His homework was smudged with tears.

I didn’t say much. Just pulled a folding chair from my tote bag (I carry it everywhere, bad knees) and sat beside him. "Show me where you’re stuck, mijo," I said. He flinched like I’d startled a bird. But he showed me.

I was a teacher for 42 years. Fractions, state capitals, how to hold a pencil, I know them like my own heartbeat. That day, we solved 3 problems in the dirt. When his mom finally rushed up, breathless and apologizing, I just nodded. "He’s got a good mind," I told her. Her eyes got wet. Not from sadness. From being seen.

Next week, I brought my old teacher’s stool and a clipboard. Set up under the oak tree across from the school gates. No sign. No fanfare. Just me, my red pen, and a jar of butterscotch candies.

Kids started coming. Not all at once. First Miguel. Then Aisha, whose dad’s truck broke down again. Jamal, who whispered, "My grandma’s sick." I never asked why parents were late. I just opened my clipboard.

Some days, I only helped one child. Other days, five crowded around my stool. I taught multiplication tables while braiding Maya’s hair. Showed Leo how to write his name in cursive on a foggy window. Never took money. Never called the school. This wasn’t their job. It was ours.

Then came Mrs. Chen. She stood at the edge of the sidewalk for weeks, watching her daughter Linh hover near my bench but never approach. One rainy Thursday, Mrs. Chen finally walked over. Her hands shook. "I failed school," she admitted in broken English. "I can’t help her." I slid my stool aside. "Sit," I said. "Today, you do the math. I’ll hold the umbrella."

Last month, the principal found me packing up in the rain. "We’ve had complaints," he said gently. "About ‘unauthorized tutoring.’" I braced for the end. But then Linh ran over, dragging her mother. Aisha brought her little brother. Miguel stood tall beside his mom, the one who once cried on the steps. Twelve parents and kids formed a circle around my soggy stool. "This bench stays," Miguel told the principal. "Or we all leave."

Today, the PTA provides the folding chairs. Retired nurses check kids’ ears for infections. A barber gives free trims. But the homework bench? That’s still mine.

Last Tuesday, Linh placed a college acceptance letter on my clipboard. "You taught me numbers," she said. "But you taught Mama something bigger." She pointed to Mrs. Chen, now helping a boy sound out words. "You taught us we’re not broken."

I packed up my red pen that night, my hands steady for the first time in years. Here’s what nobody tells you about growing old, The world doesn’t need your savings or your spare room. It needs your stubborn, ordinary love. Show up. Sit down. Make space. The rest will grow around you like wildflowers through concrete.”

Let this story reach more hearts....

By Mary Nelson

[Shubhangi Kulkarni @Shubhangi_k]

What a moment to cherish! 🏆 #SoProud of this team 🙌

When @ImHarmanpreet asked us to hold the 2025 World Cup trophy, it was a lifelong dream come true for all of us former players.

In this picture, we inadvertently ended up recreating the team management of the 2005 World Cup

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@airindia lethargic and pathetic baggage handling for AI 2435. Priority bags not delivered even after 20 minutes

[शिवम् 🇮🇳 @kadhichaawal]

A 38-year-old woman from the Kolar district of Karnataka was recently discovered to have an entirely new and ultra-rare blood group, now officially named CRIB. This breakthrough came to light when she was admitted to a hospital in 2024 for cardiac surgery. Although initially identified as having the common O Rh-positive blood type, doctors found her blood to be incompatible with all available O-positive donor units—a highly unusual and concerning situation.

Recognizing the potential for a rare blood anomaly, her sample was sent to the International Blood Group Reference Laboratory (IBGRL) in Bristol, UK, for advanced testing. Further testing involving more than 20 family members revealed no compatible match, ruling out hereditary compatibility. These unexpected results prompted extensive genetic and molecular analysis.

After nearly ten months of investigation, researchers identified a previously unknown antigen in the Cromer blood group system. This newly discovered antigen was named CRIB, an acronym derived from Cromer, India, and Bangalore—highlighting the blood group system it belongs to and the location of the discovery. The woman is currently the only known individual in the world with the CRIB antigen, making her blood type potentially the rarest ever recorded.

Scientifically, this finding provides valuable insight into the Cromer blood group system, a lesser-known but complex antigen group. The identification of CRIB advances global understanding of blood compatibility and may pave the way for more robust genotyping methods in transfusion medicine. This case represents a significant milestone in Indian medical science and a meaningful contribution to global hematology research.

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@SwiggyInstamart have been charged more than MRP on an item in an order. How can I claim a refund ? Charged INR 581 on this item

[James Hall @hallaboutafrica]

Congrats and a big WOW! to Botswana: Becomes 1st country in world to end mother to child transmission of HIV, beginning "a golden era of an AIDS-free generation. In Bots 95% of HIV+ peeps know their status, of whom 98% are on ART treatment. 98% on treatment are virally suppressed

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@srikosuri @cspramesh sir may be able to help

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@airvistara UK 996 delayed by 50 min. Why aren’t passengers informed of the delay - looks like you’ve taken your customers for granted. Disappointing customer service from an airline which bears the TATA name

[MIT CSAIL @MIT_CSAIL]

#otd in 1991 Tim Berners-Lee emailed a programmer newsgroup about a new “experimental” app he designed called “WorldWideWeb”: https://t.co/2KvL2s8ucv

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@charusurimusic It was a pleasure listening to you and your colleagues today. Thanks for including Kalyani (a Raga that bears my mother’s name) in the concert today

[Chris Evert @ChrissieEvert]

So, I presented the Roland Garros winner's trophy last year, @Martina was asked to present this year.Since it was the 50th Anniversary of my first win, she asked me if I would join her in presenting...Generous and thoughtful, that's my friend Martina!❤️

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@cromaretail ordered an ac online Apr 9. Products delivered Apr 10. No call yet for installation, demo. Service requests on https://t.co/jhCURQUYCB, telephone calls and customer helpline (call disconnected after being on hold for 14 minutes) have not been able to get any response

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@gauri_singh @womenlifthealth @SaferSurgery Congratulations @gauri_singh - good luck for the one year fellowship journey

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

@prasannalara Deivame

[Anurag Mairal @mairal]

Advancing equity in medical device performance - The Lancet Global Health https://t.co/aA3lBjhpQ7

[All India Radio News @airnewsalerts]

Minister of Railways and IT Ashwini Vaishnaw to launch NITI Aayog’s 'NITI For States' platform on March 7 in New Delhi

https://t.co/gUgoc5E1KY

[Varsha @nvvarsha]

Around 1.5 months ago I saw a msg in a group. A mom asking for help. Her specially abled daughter needed a Grade 4 kid as a reader writer for her final exam. On a whim, I asked my 4th grader daughter if she would like to be one (1/n)

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

May Saint Thyagaraja continue to bless the musicians and the music loving community. Thanks to Doordarshan for the live telecast of this event @DDTamilOfficial

[Krishnakumar Sankaranarayanan @kk14b]

The 177th Aradhana of Saint Thyagaraja was telecast earlier today. In addition to senior musicians, it was heartening to young musicians also participating in this annual event. Local population also participated with fervour as always