Eating less food at night time is sensible advice for someone trying to lose weight. The reason often given is that if eat you too much food at night, the body will store all those excess kilojoules as fat because we're inactive until the next day. The reason sounds plausible, but if it was one hundred percent true then world hunger could be solved by just feeding people one meal at night time. What really matters is how much is eaten over days and weeks for weight gain or weight loss, not so much when it is eaten. There is merit though in advice to eat less at night time as it can help a person to cut back on the total quantity of food eaten. Eating lots of food in the evening can also be a marker for unhealthy dietary habits, especially if much of that extra food is going to fuel couch surfing exploits. So even though advice to eat less at night time seems logical, it hasn't actually been well tested by science to see how effective it can be for losing weight. Filling this gap, a short-term study involving 29 healthy men looked at how 2 weeks of restricted night time eating fared against 2 weeks of 'normal' evening eating. Advice on restricting night eating was very clear: avoid any food or drink containing kilojoules between the hours of 7 pm and 6 am the next morning. No other changes to the participants' diet or lifestyle was required so each person was free to eat whatever they wished during the day time hours until early evening. Twenty seven of the twenty nine people complied with following this advice for 2 weeks as well as the 2 week control period. Eating at night a waistline hazard So did people eat less when restricting night time eating? Yes, equal to 1000 kilojoules (about 250 Calories) per day less than during their normal eating pattern. This small energy difference was enough to see the men lose 0.4 kg over the 2 week restriction period, and gain 0.6 kg over the 2 week control period. How does the participants probably feel about the study they went into? A. not enough information B. They wanted to eat more during the day C. They were willing to see if it would help them lose weight D. They didn't think it would be effective
C

I lost my baby boy at 31 weeks of pregnancy in February 2013. My heart shattered into a million pieces that weekend in February. I knew that I wanted the chance to bring home another live, healthy baby in my arms. I had some medical issues that would concern doctors during a uncomplicated pregnancy and would put me at high risk if, and that at the time was a big if I was able to get pregnant, and could I make it past the second trimester. I had doctors who supported my decision to try again, but my body wasn't co operating. 2015. I got pregnant, straight on the medication I needed, lots of blood tests. Got a horrible sinking feeling something went wrong at the 6 week stage, bleeding at 8 weeks. At 9weeks of pregnancy, got a scan and no heartbeat was found. I choose the d&c operation, I couldn't deal with seeing the miscarriage blood for days. I tried to convince myself to give up, move on. Wasn't an easy thing to do, but the depression and sadness wasn't fair to my 6 year old son. He needed his mummy who was always sad, in his mind. About 6 months later, I was having a scan. This time, I had a strong heart beat on screen. The pregnancy was extremely high risk, consultant led, daily injections, scans every 2 weeks from 18 weeks. No guarantees of a good outcome. Planned c section at 38 weeks. Healthy baby girl. I was lucky, I got the chance to have my happy ever after. Was it worth the heartache and infertility caused by stress - yes Was it worth the terrifying 34 weeks of pregnancy- yes Do I miss and wish the baby boy I lost at 31 weeks was here - every day For me, being bloody minded and stubborn worked out for me. Who supported her to try again? A. Her doctors B. not enough information C. Her lost baby boy D. Her 6 year old son
A

Q: My old roommate's cats, Clise and Monkey, were about as different as cats could be. Clise, rescued as an emaciated kitten from a local park, grew up to be morbidly obese. His interests mainly involved eating food, begging for food, or going around the neighborhood scrounging for food. He could hear a can opener from a mile away. Monkey was a more active cat. He liked to chase the laser pointer and was the first to run to the door when someone arrived. But he could also be lazy, lounging in a sunbeam or stretched out on the couch. Both of them liked to watch TV. Soon after I moved in, I started having health issues which necessitated a lot of time lounging around myself. This was the era of reality TV, back when much of it was actually good. The cats, Monkey especially, watched with me. Monkey definitely had his preferences. His favorite shows were The Girls Next Door and Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders: Making The Team. Notice a theme here? Playboy Playmates and professional cheerleaders. Monkey liked his T & A (tits and ass). If one of these shows was on, and I turned it to Project Runway or something, Monkey would march off. But as soon as I turned it back, and he could hear the high-pitched giggling, he'd come running back. Clise's favorite shows were Top Chef, Iron Chef, and Rachael Ray. Food porn. If there was something he especially craved, like a shrimp stir-fry, he'd assume a begging pose, right in front of the TV, as if Rachael might take pity on him and throw him a scrap or two. I moved out about a year later. A few months previous, Monkey ended up catching some wasting disease and dying, but Clise, as far as I know, is still there, begging for scraps from anyone he can in real life or televised. After John moved out, Monkey probably lasted, A. not enough information B. 2 years C. a few more months D. 10 years
A: C

Q: I'll go one farther back than that. I almost never had a first date. A young lady I met in the hospital cafeteria where I worked as a pharmacy intern (she was an X-ray tech) I asked out on a date. Would you like to follow me home? she asked. I said SURE! She got in her car, hit the freeway, went over the top of the hill..and was gone. I went 75 mph desperately trying to keep her tail lights in my line of sight while swerving in and out of traffic. I thought if you don't really want to go out with me, just tell me, don't try to ditch me! I finally caught up with her but found out she always drives that way. If Janet Guthrie wasn't the first woman to drive in the Indy 500, she would have been. Over the years as she got older, collecting speeding tickets got old so she became a more responsible driver. I'm glad, because I had to help pay for those tickets over the last 30+ years we've been married. Glad I caught up to her that one night on the freeway. EDIT, AND BACKSTORY: She ate lunch with her X-ray tech coworkers. She left the table first and I approached the others and asked what was her name, the girl that just left. They told me, and about a half hour later called the radiology department from the pharmacy phone and asked for her. She said all the girls in the department were huddled around the phone and giggling while we talked. It's the handsome blonde intern in the pharmacy, they told each other. Oh, you mean THAT one?! Ooooh! Like the final scene from "An Officer And A Gentleman." Pretty funny. Why was the author glad that he had caught up with her car? A. They ended up getting married. B. Her taillight was out. C. She had left something at the hospital. D. not enough information
A: A