(Question)
When I first started out in the field, I was working at a private hospital in the locked psychiatric unit, and there was a call from one of the med floors requiring someone from our unit to assist with a problem of a young man who had bitten through his cotton restraints on his wrists. They were requesting he be restrained with leather ones. I had not done any restraining and was asked to assist a woman counselor to show me the ropes (no pun intended). When we arrived in the patients room, I was shocked to see a man in his early 20's flailing around spasmodically on the bed with his gums bleeding in between his teeth. The nurse informed us that the patient was dying of a liver disease and his body and brain had become toxic, causing delirium. The counselor instructed me to hold down his arms and she placed him in leather restraints which were fastened to the side of the bed. The most upsetting thing which to this day I can not remove from memory was this man literally snapping his jaws at me like a mad animal with traumatized bloody gums from biting so hard on the cloth restraints. There was nothing I, or anyone could do, except keep him restrained from hurting himself or others. It is the kind of witness to suffering I had never experienced before, and I felt almost relieved when the nurse quietly said, " He will die before morning. " I suppose what is so traumatic about witnessing such situations is the utter sense of helplessness. I was a trained therapist, and in this situation, I was unable to do anything, and was rendered powerless. I recall being plagued by this young man's face for some time when I tried to go to sleep at night. Bruce Kugler how long did it take to restrain the patient? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. 2 minutes B. 3 minutes C. 5 minutes D. not enough information
(Answer)
C

(Question)
The sweet taste of cold and wood smoke hung in the air. Marlin rode low in the saddle, his shoulders curled against the hungry wind. His hat was pulled down tight and his eyes didn't move as he passed the crude shacks at the edge of town. He tied his horse in front of the saloon, unwinding his long body as if a sudden movement might snap it. He turned down the collar of his greatcoat and checked to make sure his big Army Colt was loose in its holster. The saloon door was a single chunk of white pine, still oozing sap, and he had to put his shoulder to it to force it open. The long room inside was quiet, and not much warmer than the street. Clusters of people sat nursing coffee and drinks, talking quietly if they talked at all. Marlin spotted a few farmers the railroad had brought in from Europe: rounded hats, nervous eyes, skin as red as blood. At the far end of the room a half-dozen cowboys turned over cards with patient boredom. Marlin walked up to the bar. "Whiskey," he said, and when the drink came he tossed it straight down and felt it pull his lips into a grimace. He nodded for a refill. When he turned to face the room they were all watching him. "I'm looking for a man named Kraamer," Marlin said. "Anybody here know of him?" One of the cowboys turned casually and rang the spittoon with a stream of tobacco juice. Marlin knew the long, thin face from somewhere, the blond hair that fell limply to his shoulders. He smiled at Marlin and showed his brown-stained teeth. Marlin felt the lines in his own face, the gray in his hair, the chill in his bones. He was too old for this. He set a half dollar on the bar and started for the door. "Don't get in a huff," the bartender said. Marlin looked back. "Kraamer lives about a mile west of town. Follow the railroad and take the first trail south." The cowboy that range the spittoon was probably: Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. not enough information B. Known for being a rodeo star C. Always getting into trouble D. Always chewing tobacco
(Answer)
A

(Question)
I was once distinctly unsettled by a utility man who called to read the gas meter. We were living in an old house at the time and I was home alone with the youngest child (who was around six months old), balanced on my hip as I opened the door. The visitor looked genuine, dressed in the expected uniform. He was around 6.3 and probably not the most tidily presented utility man I'd met, but I believed him to be genuine and willingly invited him in out of the foul weather. It was pouring down outside, a freezing cold winter's day. As I closed the door I remembered that I should have asked to see his company I.D. , so as I opened the meter cupboard and switched on the light, I politely said, 'Oops, I should have asked to see your I.D. if you don't mind?. He stood there in front of the door and made no move to produce his card or do anything in fact. He just glared down at me in the most menacing way and said in a very sinister voice 'Isn't it a little bit late for that now? What are you going to do if I tell you I don't have it?'. There was an embarrassed silence. He continued to stare down at me without making a move for what seemed like minutes but was probably seconds. He didn't produce his I.D., instead he almost grudgingly read the meter as I looked on and then he swiftly left without saying goodbye. I closed the door and locked it, and then took a while to get my pulse rate back to normal and to realise I'd just learned a very big lesson. Such a creepy individual, I didn't make that mistake again. What happened after the author asked for the I.D. of the utility man? Pick the correct answer from the following options: A. not enough information B. The utility man looked menacingly at her. C. The utility man ignored her request. D. The utility man glared down at her.
(Answer)
B