In the 1970s I was a student nurse in psychiatry. I was rostered to the brain injury ward in a chronic hospital, where the patients had severe brain damage from tumours, car accidents, strokes, metabolic diseases, degenerative diseases, and alcoholism. Only about half were ambulant. Most had severely impacted recent and long term memories. They could not bathe or feed themselves. The majority sat most of the day in chairs lined along the sides of the day room. They were spoon-fed meals and wheeled into the toilet. One of those patients was Connie S. She was maybe 55 yrs old and she spent a lot of the day screaming in her chair. She could not speak, walk, or cooperate. One nurse was very impatient with her and once I heard that nurse say to her, "You think the water is too hot, do you? Then have it cold!" as she bathed her in cold water. I remember standing up for her to that nurse. I worked that ward for over a year and then, one day, just like that, Connie S. woke up. She suddenly began speaking and walking. She apparently remembered most of the things had had happened to her in the ward. Soon, she walked right out of that ward and never came back. As she left, she appeared dignified and so happy, so relieved. I was too junior at that stage to know what her diagnosis was supposed to have been, but no-one expected her ever to leave. No-one left that ward. It was the end of the line. I remember being really glad that I had stood up for her and thinking how ashamed the nasty nurse must have been. It is now many years later and I often think of this woman and wonder how she fared in her post-hospital life. Her name is not common, but every so often I meet people with the same name and ask them if they know of a relative to whom this happened, but, so far, no-one has known of her. At the end of this narration, Connie probably: - Still screams - Still feels fine without a relapse - not enough information - still refuses to talk
Still feels fine without a relapse

NOT A PROBLEM: Person A: I was really surprised to learn that your mum used to live in Wales. Person B: My mum? No, she never did that. You must be thinking of someone else. Person A: No, I'm not. I told her how my parents are from Cardiff and she said she'd lived in Newport until she was 18. Person B: She did not. Person A: Yes, she did. Person B: Nope. She'd have told me. Person A: Well, where do you think she grew up, then? Person B: In Yorkshire, of course. Like the rest of us. Person A: You're wrong, you know. Person B: Bet I'm not. Person A: OK, well, I'm going to phone her and ask her. You'll see. PROBLEM: Person C: You still have my Kindle. Person D: I do not. I gave it back to you two weeks ago. Person C: No, you didn't. You said you were going to, but you never actually gave it to me. Person D: I did. I remember. It was when we were having lunch in Starbucks. Person C: No, that's when you said you'd left it in your car and would get it when we'd finished eating but then you forgot all about it. Person D: Look, I gave it back to you. I think you're just trying to get a new Kindle out of me, and let me tell you: it ain't gonna work. Person C: You're just trying to keep my Kindle for yourself. Well, I'm not going to let you get away with it. I'm going to tell your mum, so there. It really depends whether the parents are in a position to shed any light on the contentious issue or if involving them would just make an awkward situation worse. If parental input will be helpful, welcome the chance to confer with them; if it won't, let the other person do what they will and trust your parents to have more sense than to get involved in a purely private argument. What was Person C missing? - A computer - a Kindle - A dog - not enough information
a Kindle

Q: Juliette Murray was, like me, a kid at school who got 5 "A"s, which in the West of Scotland put a certain degree of pressure on one's shoulders to study either medicine or law. I studied European Law, and became a teacher - that's what a European Law degree does to you. She studied medicine and is today a practicing doctor, but the education bug is firmly rooted in what she chose to do next. Murray noticed that, particularly in her local area, fewer students were applying to study medicine than the population number would suggest should. Not only that, nationally the number of medical students dropping out after beginning their course of study is increasing. She wondered if we might we persuade a more representative cross section of the community to become doctors. She set about improving the opportunities for local youngsters, aged 14/5, at the time of their work experience choices. Existing work experience for those who want to gain an insight into the world of medical doctors is a sanitised course in an educational skills centre, where bored teenagers endlessly take each other's blood pressure. They have more chance of a realistic insight by breaking their arm and turning up to Accident and Emergency. As any dad-to-be donning surgical greens knows, getting into an operating theatre is where a passion for surgery will be born or, in my case, definitely put to one side as a career option. So, the question became: how might we offer a more realistic experience of what being a doctor, surgeon or other medical profession feels like? Starting with her local hospital, Wishaw General in NHS Lanarkshire, she set about overcoming what she describes as a "culture of obstacles". Two years later, though, and students are indeed undertaking real life surgery work experience, experiencing a live operation theatre and seeing the pressure of the job first hand. What grade does the author teach? - Grades 1-5 - not enough information - Grades 6-8 - Grades 9-12
A: not enough information

Relatives of a dying lady I was caring for kicking and screaming not to give their Mum pain relief because they were so terrified / knew it would probably be the thing to end her life. She had a horrible aggressive cancer that ravaged her whole body and needed very regular doses of strong pain relief which - as she had a terminal illness and was receiving end of life care - did not have an upper limit so to speak. She had pain relief as and when needed to make her comfortable and that often results in people ultimately overdosing. Mum had Alzheimer's and was howling and writhing in agony so we were giving her pain relief but daughters knew it would probably result in her death - which they were right about possibly happening and in their grief and panic, started trying to prevent us from doing anything. Didn't want us getting near her at all and we had to go through an awful scenario of trying to explain what we had to do for Mum and why and when they still wouldn't have it or allow us near, we had to do what nobody wants and go against their wishes by administering the pain relief anyway. One daughter screamed the place down, threatened to have me arrested and struck off / said she would go to the papers and tell them about how we killed her Mum and in the end she had to be removed from the bedroom. Her Mum was given the pain relief, immediately relaxed and fell asleep then died peacefully in her sleep about 15 mins later. The saddest thing is her daughter wasn't able to be there and see her Mum dropping off so peacefully and her last memory will forever be of her screaming and thrashing about as she (daughter) was physically removed from the room. Tragic. After the end of the story, the daughter probably - laughed - cried - not enough information - was nervous
cried