It was a dream, then a place, then a memory. My father built it near the Suwannee River. I like to think it was in the heart of Florida, because it was, and is, in my heart. Its name was Dogland. Some people say you can know others if you know the central incidents that shaped their lives. But an incident is an island in time, and to know the effect of the island on those who land there, you must know something about the river they have traveled. And I must warn you before we begin, I don't know that river well. I visit that time and place like a ghost with poor vision and little memory. I look up the river and see fog rolling in. I look down the river, and the brightness of the approaching day blinds me. I see shapes moving behind me and beyond me, but who they are and what they do, I cannot say. I will tell what I know is true, and I will invent what I believe is true, and that, I think, is all you can ask any storyteller to do. I learned the Nix family history from the stories Pa told. Even at the age of four, I suspected that Pa's stories might not be perfectly true. When Pa said we Nixes came to North America as indentured servants working our way out of debtor's prison, Grandma Bette would make a face and say he couldn't know that. When he said we Nixes had Lakota and Ojibwe blood in our veins, Grandma Bette would say she wasn't prejudiced, but it simply wasn't so: she and Pa and his brothers and sisters were dark because her people were Black Dutch, from a part of Holland where everyone had black hair and black eyes. And then Grandma Bette wouldn't say a word for half an hour or more, a very long time for Grandma Bette to be quiet. Question: How long have the Nixes probbaly lived in North America? Options: - For several generation - Only for a few years - not enough information - For only one generation === The correct answer is
For several generation

As a nurse, what is the most difficult news you have ever had to break to a patient? Sadly in my job (Ob/gyn nurse) there is one thing I have to report fairly often, that a pregnancy is not going to happen. Sometimes the mom's are bleeding and they kind of know that this is going to happen, but sometimes, they are not bleeding and it is a gut punch without any warning. This can be an ultrasound that shows no heartbeat or a lab test that is declining. Nothing is worse than the look on a woman's face when she is looking forward to her first glimpse of her baby only to be told that the baby is not alive. It doesn't get any easier, no matter how many times you do it. My own daughter called me one day to announce she was pregnant and two days later, we found out she was miscarrying and I bawled all day. I never even knew this baby, but now, 15 years later, just writing this now is making my eyes water. I have to do a lot of this over the phone and that makes it even harder because I am not able to offer comfort and I don't know where they are or what they are doing when they get this news. If they call me for their lab results, they might be driving, they might be walking around the mall, they will have to call their significant other and break the news, such difficult conversations to have over the phone. I have been very, very lucky that the few times I have seen advanced pregnancies that underwent a fetal demise were handled by the physicians that I have worked with. I can't imagine being almost ready to deliver and having all your hopes and dreams crushed. Obstetricians sometimes have the very best job, bringing new lives into the world and seeing the new families bonding, but sometimes they also have the very worst job. Question: How long will the person continue to be a nurse? Options: - Until retirement - Never again. - not enough information - Only one more day === The correct answer is
Until retirement

*Question*
"What was your worst makeup disaster?" Do fingernails count? I hope so, because this is a good one: I was 21 years old. I worked for a major commercial airline. A friend of mine and I decided to go to Puerto Rico for a long weekend. It was our first trip to Puerto Rico. The hotel at which we stayed had a lovely (classy/expensive) restaurant serving continental fare. So, we decided to have our first dinner there. We dressed to the nines. Our hair and makeup were perfect. I had fake fingernails (not acrylic - those were fairly new back then. I had the type one glues on). Those fingernails were long, and painted a very bright - and obvious - red. When the waiter came to take our drink order, we both ordered glasses of wine. The waiter brought the wine, set it down on the table, and waited to take our meal orders. I smoked back then, and at the time, smoking was still allowed in restaurants. In a 21-year-old attempt to look classy and sophisticated, at that moment I took out a cigarette, put it between my lips, picked up my lighter, and lit my cigarette - or so I thought. Unfortunately, my long, red, fake thumbnail got in the way of the flame, and it caught on fire. The waiter's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide. He froze in place. I was horrified. The flame was literally shooting up from my nail! And smoke; the nail was plastic! Quickly scanning the table for the closest thing with which I could extinguish the flame, I spied my glass of wine. As nonchalantly as possible, I stuck my thumb in the glass. There was a sizzle as the flaming nail hit the wine. When I withdrew my thumb from the glass, the nail was melted, black, and curled under. Ever the professional, the waiter regained his composure and proceeded to take our orders without missing a beat - but I'm sure I was the talk of the kitchen for the rest of the evening. So much for my attempt at appearing "classy" and "sophisticated". Question: The waiters immediate reaction to the event probably was: Options: - That of sympathy. - not enough information - That of humor. - That of shock. === The correct answer is
**Answer**
That of shock.