instruction:
Read the given story and classify it as 'imagined', 'recalled', or 'retold'. If a story is imagined, the person who wrote the story is making it up, pretending they experienced it. If a story is recalled, the person who wrote the story really experienced it and is recalling it from memory. If a story is retold, it is a real memory like the 'recalled' stories, but written down much later after previously writing a 'recalled' story about the same events. So, recalled stories and retold stories will be fairly similar, in that they both were real experiences for the writer. Imagined stories have a more linear flow and contain more commonsense knowledge, whereas recalled stories are less connected and contain more specific concrete events. Additionally, higher levels of self reference are found in imagined stories. Between recalled and retold stories, retold stories flow significantly more linearly than recalled stories, and retold stories are significantly higher in scores for cognitive processes and positive tone.
question:
Six months ago, my wife began to not feel well. She complained of extreme fatigue, nausea, and felt that she was getting bloated. I suggested she go to the doctor, which she was not a fan of, and this went on for three more days. Finally, one snowy Friday evening, she was getting a ride home from a co-worker and called me. She said she was feeling much worse, including dizziness and abdominal pain. I asked her co-worker (who was also a friend of ours) to drive her to the emergency room and I set out to meet her there. It was snowing so hard that I missed the turn to the hospital, so I it took me a while to get there but I got there right before they called her back. She looked terrible, and I instantly regretted not being more adamant with my suggestion that she see a doctor earlier. They did quite a few tests, and we talked to several different doctors and nurses. Eventually they knew that she was having serious kidney problems, but there was more going on as well. After about seven hours, around midnight, they admitted her and we moved up to a room, where she was the only patient. Another hour after that and a different doctor came to tell us that she had cirrhosis, which is eventually fatal without a transplant. She's not much of a drinker, and they said that it's due to what's called a fatty liver. She took the news in stride, asking what she needed to do moving forward, and I was very proud of her strength. I drove home around 3 that morning to try to get some sleep, moving at a crawl on icy roads, knowing that our lives were going to be much different now. It turns out that both of her grandfathers died of the same thing. She is determined not to go that way, and is now in Denver, staying with her parents, about to finally get on the transplant list. I am still in Albuquerque, holding down the fort - they don't do transplants here (for real) so this is the only way we can try get her healthy again.
answer:
recalled


question:
Hello Diary. My name is Dale, I was just diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer. I am 58 years old, married happily to my wife, Angie, of 27 years. We have one daughter together, who is 26. Her name is Christina. Four years ago after graduating college, Christina moved away to peruse her career. Unfortunately, moving half way across the country took a toll on my wife. Now that I have been diagnosed with cancer, my wife is struggling even more. After finding out, during a phone call with my daughter, I asked her if she would be willing to move back closer to home, at least temporary, to provide support and be there for her mother. Two weeks ago, I learned that she has requested a leave from her job, and is renting the house next door to us for the next couple of months. Hearing that, was a sign of relief. Having Christina here the past couple of weeks has been so helpful, Chemotherapy is taking a toll on me, I don't have as much energy to do the things I did before. I am so grateful for my wife and daughter, I can only hope I make it through this and am able to live until I am old, wrinkly, and white haired with Angie. And that I am able to walk Christina down the aisle, and watch her raise a family. Until next time Diary. Dale.
answer:
imagined


question:
She was accepted into Rutgers U. I am relieved I can say the efforts have an endpoint. Can I say that? Every day I still wonder if she will not be able to focus...if she will get stressed and focus too intently to overcompensate and not be aware of her surroundings. It has been hell for her and for me. What is left if you choose not to use medication though I offered to go that route with her many times once she was old enough to understand things like side effects and ineffectiveness. As I think about all we did I feel sick in my stomach. The constant disciplining to form that necessary structure that her mind couldn't do easily on it's own. OMG all the words! Talking to her until I felt like passing out. "Now..now you are processing that clearly! Can you feel the reasoning come naturally now?" Her relief when she could see out of the fog, her despair when she realized she was thinking "jumbly" again; my God how we fought against the monster. She is proud of herself; she can even tell when she is "bouncy" and needs to regroup. She deserves to be proud; she never, ever gave up. We never, ever gave up. When people say, "Your daughter is just so sharp" I don't feel proud so much as I want to throw up with remembered fear and cry with relief.
answer:

retold