Yes; I have a rare form of cluster/ice pick headaches that can affect any part of my body. It's quite uncommon, but essentially I can get an excruciating migraine in my arm, leg, etc., on top of getting them in my head/temples. For years my family and I had no idea what was happening, and with no vocabulary to properly explain what was happening, I described it for about fifteen years as "beeping." Doctors told us it was anything from growth spurts to a grab for attention, and for a while I gave up trying to figure out what they were. When they got worse and I couldn't ignore them anymore, I was finally sent to a neurologist, who diagnosed me with ice pick headaches. I let out a sigh of relief that I didn't even know I was holding in; I felt like I could finally breathe. Years of stress and confusion washed off of me, and I started taking a beta blocker to prevent them. I've been on them for a few years now, and it's changed my life for the better. I used to be terrified of learning to drive, for many reasons, but a large one being that if I got an ice pick headache on the road, I couldn't guarantee the safety of those around me if I was at the wheel. Now I'm considering finally getting my license (considering - I still don't like being behind the wheel), I don't double over in white hot pain randomly anymore, and when I do get a cluster headache, I can still function. It almost sounds a little silly, but really, they were crippling, and being able to work through them on my own? It's the greatest gift I've given to myself. You know yourself better than anyone, even if you feel like you don't know yourself. If something feels wrong, don't just live with it - keep pushing for a correct diagnosis! Question: After the diagnosis, what does the main character want to accomplish for herself? Options: A. To double over in pain B. to buy herself a gift C. To get a driver's license D. not enough information === The correct answer is
C

I'm not good at sticking to the rules, not even the ones I set myself. I'm really terrible with the rules set by others, especially companies. Even as a child, I could never stay inside the lines in colouring books. Some of you might put this down to poor hand-eye coordination, but I maintain that I was a rule-breaker right from the beginning. One of my roles as an engineer with a multiplicity of companies was to set up projects, define the scope of the work, contract the work out and manage the project. I was setting up a robot-based manufacturing cell for the company in the business of making early cellphones. The cell design required some equipment to be designed and built from scratch, so I got a local designer, Fergus, to give me a quote and got him started on the work. Now, any project will run over budget and take longer than planned and the contractor may come back for more money. And so it was with this designer; he wasn't really vocal about it, but he indicated that the work did take a lot more time and expense than he's originally budgeted. My usual reaction to these things is that this is not my problem. Most of the companies I've work for have lost money, so why should I give a rat's ass if some other company comes up a little short? In this case though, I liked Fergus and, as he was really a one-man operation, I decided to cut him some slack. But first, I had to get permission from my boss to drop another few grand into Fergus's jeans. My boss refused. Having someone tell me I can't do something really brings out my dark side; especially around the time of the full moon. Not long before, we had just waved a fond(-ish) farewell to our president as he was going on to greener fields. As a parting gift, the company bought him either a boat or a motor home, I forget which, and equipped it with three of their cell phones. Question: How long did the engineer's president probably work at their company? Options: A. a decade B. a few years C. a few months D. not enough information === The correct answer is
A

Q: Patch's mother was named Silver, because high summer sun made her fur shine that colour. She had a marvellous drey high up a spruce tree, carved out long ago by a woodpecker, and since extended into a two-chambered home full of bright things. The journey along the sky-road to her drey did not take long. When Patch looked inside, he saw a hundred colours glittering in the sunlight, shining from bits of metal and glass set into Silver's walls and floor. But his mother was not there. He could tell by the faintness of her smell that no squirrel had been here in some time. There were two faint traces of scent, several days old; that of Silver, and that of another squirrel, a musky scent that Patch did not recognize. A scent that made his tail stiffen as if danger was near. Patch stared into his mother's empty drey for a moment. It wasn't normal for a squirrel to abandon her drey for days, not in the middle of winter. And he hadn't seen Silver for three days. Not since all the acorns had disappeared from the earth. Patch ran back to his own tree, and then to the maple tree next door, to his brother Tuft's drey. He ran very fast. He was hungrier than ever, and he was beginning to be very worried. He was relieved when he looked into Tuft's drey and found it occupied. Tuft himself was not present, but Brighteyes was, and their babies, and it was clear from the smells that Tuft had only just departed. "Hello, Patch," Brighteyes said weakly. "Would you like to come in?" Patch entered. Brighteyes was curled up with her babies in the drey's deepest, warmest corner. The last time Patch had visited, a week ago, this had been a den of noise and chaos, with all Brighteyes' four babies running and jumping and playfighting. Today they lay weakly beside Brighteyes, and the once-shining eyes from which their mother had taken her name were dim and clouded. Question: Why are Brighteyes' babies weak? Options: A. They are sick. B. not enough information C. They are dying. D. They have been poisoned. === The correct answer is
A: A