In my early 20s, I was a one-on-one aide for a couple of teenagers with cerebral palsy. With the first one, I was hired by and worked for the family. I picked the teen up from school every day and took care of him until he was in bed for the night. When he passed away, I took a job with the local school district. My client at the school had spastic quadriplegia. He could talk and was actually very smart, but he had no control over his arms or legs. He couldn't walk. He was never going to walk. The law requires that special education students be put in the least restrictive classroom environment possible. Since this kid was smart and could communicate well, and wasn't a discipline problem, he had all regular classes. His only accommodation was a one-on-one aide (me), and he was allowed to be late to classes without consequence because we sometimes had to stop in a special room, get him out of his chair, and stretch his legs a little. Basically ten minutes of physical therapy, two or three times per day. Anyway, since this kid was legally required to take all the classes a normal student his age would take, he had to take Physical Education (gym). And, legally, his aide (me) had to accommodate his participation in every class as much as possible, including gym. Most gym classes began with the students doing laps around the track, then participating in a team sport. He couldn't do the team sport, but, according to the lawyers involved, he should participate in the "laps around the track" part of gym. So I had to push this kid in a wheelchair around the track for about 15 minutes each day, until the other kids were all done and off doing the next activity. Then he and I were able to leave gym class and go do some physical therapy in his own little room just for that. Because, you know lawyers and rules. Question: Where would the client perform their daily physical therapy? Options: A. not enough information B. Somewhere nonrestrictive and secluded. C. Somewhere restrictive and frequented. D. Somewhere open and crowded. === The correct answer is
B

(Question)
I really struggle to feel bad for people who actively choose to be miserable and manipulative. I'm dorky and like to use little proverbs all the time. One of my favorites is this: "you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink." At the end of the day, if someone has a problem, they can never resolve it if they don't truly wish to. You can give someone all the resources in the world, but you can't force them to utilize them. When I was 16, I dated a horrible guy. He was abusive verbally, emotionally, and sexually. He was an incredibly troubled young man and refused to seek help for his severe mental health issues. I eventually came to understand that he reveled in his misery. It was his identity. He acted like he wanted a cure and I'd set him up with resources, but he refused every single one. He may have struggled with serious mental illnesses, but being miserable perversely made him happy and he loved to use his struggles to justify his inexcusable behavior. He wanted to drag as many people into his fiery pit of anguish as possible. I later suffered from severe depression myself, and I never once used it as an excuse to hurt other people. My ex wasn't struggling with his mental health in terms of deliberating and carefully harming others. He was simply exhibiting a personality trait, one he chose to cultivate and it wasn't my problem. I ended up cutting him off completely in spite of all the threats. I will never feel bad for the awful plight he refuses to help himself out of. I have no patience for that type of person. Know what we call them? Toxic. Poison. A waste of time. Question: What is probably true now about the author's boyfriend at 16? Options: A. not enough information B. He refused to date again. C. He went on to date someone else. D. He didn't date for 1 year. === The correct answer is
(Answer)
C

Question: I thought I might get some good ideas if I went down to the hospital. I always have stayed away from hospitals. People died or were born. But now I thought I might get some idea if I went down to where it was all happening, the being born and the dying. Mostly the dying. It was the dying that interested me. I sat on a bench in a sort of waiting room. I wanted to call it a green room; it wasn't a place where the patients would wait to be called by the doctor; it was a place where the relatives would wait while the patient was in their room. It had a coffee bar, and comfortable couches, with trendy, muted colors on the walls and floor. Everything was clean and modern without being cold, a homogenized balancing act designed to keep everyone calm during their stressful time. It was a green room; patients were "guests"; their families were "guests" as well. Here was where the families would sit and be feted while they waited to be called out to perform, to smile and encourage or to don faces of appropriate mournfulness. The old ones would put on smiles, the young ones would look sad. I think I went there because it seemed to me that it was the place richest in emotional impact. It reeked of spent emotions, and the emotions were made all the stronger, here in the green room, by the efforts at suppression--the muted walls and gourmet coffees and scones, the overstuffed loveseats and couches, as if those in grief should not be permitted to sit on benches or folding chairs. It absolutely reeked of hush and hidden feeling. It was worse than a church. It was worse than a highschool hallway. It was more universal, more basic, something even the children could comprehend. Question: What state of mind is the narrator probably in as he leaves the hospital? Options: A. Somberness B. not enough information C. Happiness D. Grief === The correct answer is
Answer:
A