When I had trouble bending over to tie my shoes and I wasn't pregnant. When I hit about 35 I started having trouble with weight. The strange thing was to me, it wasn't that I was eating more then I used to, as a matter of fact I started eating less. When that didn't help I barely ate at all. Still I couldn't lose weight. What I didn't know was we start to lose muscle mass every decade beginning in our thirties, and I was a ripe 35. Muscles use up more calories than fat, so less muscle means a slower metabolism and the need for fewer calories, and the pounds stack on easier. My second problem was my narcolepsy. When you wake up after a nights sleep there is a release of adrenaline which prompts body and mind into action and helps burn off calories. Narcolepsy causes me to sleep on and off during the day, and as explained by my doctor (so if I have this wrong about adrenaline it is my doctors fault lol) I am not getting that adrenaline release because my bodies clock doesn't know if I am asleep or awake. He suggested in the morning to start exercising about 20 minutes to get that adrenaline rush, in the afternoon exercise about twenty minutes more for the same reason Dieting and exercising brought those pounds back down. I will say it is much harder in the winter for me then in the summer. Summer time I am naturally active. I ride bikes with my husband, swim, garden, mow about an acre of lawn. In the winter I can't ride, swim, garden, or mow, and I hate exercise I don't enjoy. Anyway the long answer to the defining moment but there it is just the same. Question: Why was the narrator advised to exercise? Options: - because not getting enough adrenaline in the morning - because not getting enough adrenaline in winter - because not getting enough adrenaline at night - not enough information === The correct answer is
because not getting enough adrenaline in the morning

I once went out to have fun with a friend of a different nationality, and she wanted to go to a place that featured the music of her culture. Since I have always been interested in other cultures, I was happy to go along. While we were sitting at a table together, an older man came up and asked to buy me a drink. I told him "no thank you, I do not drink". My arm was laying on top of the booth because I was sitting sideways since my big old pregnant belly would not fit under the table. He reached over and took my hand and said " Come dance with me then". I again told him I was not interested in dancing. He began to squeeze my hand and insisting I get up and dance with him. I kept telling him no, and pointing to my belly and saying I would not be dancing with anyone. He just kept squeezing my hand harder and trying to pull me out of the booth. I got angry when I felt something break in my hand and screamed at him "Get your effing hands off me!" The bar owner came over to see what the problem was. I explained that "this jerk just hurt my hand because I would not drink or dance with him!" The owner looked at me crying, and the man laughing, and kicked my friend and I out of the place! Seems the rude SOB was his best friend. I got a bad taste for places of that culture (although I do love the cuisine) and a broken bone in my left hand for my trouble. She and I never went out again because she was so embarrassed about what the guy did to me, but she did take me to the ER on the way home. Question: The rude man lingered around the booth at the bar probably for: Options: - 20 minutes - one hour - several minutes - not enough information === The correct answer is
several minutes

Q: I have a chronic illness, and so I received quite a few sterling gems in the months between onset and accurate diagnosis. I had one GP let's call him Dr Douche. I promise, it's the kindest way I could describe him. "The jacket means I know things." He came up with wilder and wilder theories as to why I was sick, and kept getting sicker. It should be said beforehand that few of these theories were embodied. He was sure it was something in my ladybrains that was preventing proper function of the rest of me. Dr Douche said so much weird, wild, and just-plain-unbelievable crap over the course of my diagnosis that someday I may create a novel that incorporates it all. But this here has to be the blue ribbon winner. I was describing a symptom to him: every time I got up in the morning, when I first stood, my heart would pound, my heart rate would accelerate, and I'd feel dizzy. After a few probing questions (only in the morning? no, but it's worst in the morning) "Maybe," he said sensitively, "you're afraid." "Of standing?" I asked, just to be sure. "You think I'm afraid of standing up." Maybe he meant there was some kind of existential fear, like, we're all afraid, it's a big old universe out there, and he wanted some comfort and reassurance. Nope. The man genuinely thought I had such a profound fear of verticality, that I was having a near-panic in response to being upright. POTS, folks. It was POTS. Literally THE most common sign/symptom/syndrome of autonomic dysfunction. The most common one. He could've confirmed right there in the office with a poor man's tilt table test, if he knew to Mayo Clinic had to confirm with expensive instruments because he'd never heard of a disease that affects 1/100 teenagers and between 13 million people in the United States! Would've done better with this Doctor. Question: What did the patient do after hearing these weird theories? Options: - Attempted to confirm whether she heard correctly by repeating a sentence. - Remained calm without flutter - not enough information - Became afraid as theorized === The correct answer is
A: Attempted to confirm whether she heard correctly by repeating a sentence.