Not as a nurse, but as a patient. I had my appendix removed in about 1970 before keyhole surgery and the surgeon had not properly stitched the inside incision. This meant I was slowly "leaking" blood into the area between my abdominal cavity lining and my skin. I was kept in the hospital for two weeks and every day the same nurse would come along and open the end of the incision in my skin to relieve the pressure caused by the pooling of my blood. That was fine for the first five days, but the weekend came and she was off duty. Apparently, nobody else knew what to do. By Monday morning, I was in agony and when she arrived, she was appalled I had not been drained during the weekend. The other thing that happened during the weekend was the end of the skin incision, which she had opened, had mostly healed meaning there was no convenient hole for the blood to be drained. The nurse used a sharp pair of scissors to reopen one end of the partly-healed incision, but still the blood would not simply drain of its own accord. She used both hands to squeeze downwards onto the swollen blood reservoir. At first, there was no reaction except agonizing pain, but after a few seconds and a very hard squeeze, the stinking, coagulated blood jetted out of the hole she'd made squirting across the ceiling, down the wall and down her full-length coating her face and the front of her uniform. Despite the pain, I couldn't keep myself from laughing loud and long. She then dressed the wound, directed some junior nurses to clean the ceiling and the wall while she went to clean herself. I apologized for laughing the following day when she returned. She told me she appreciated the humor of the situation so there was no "hard feelings." According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: after the story, the patient is probably Options: - going to become a nurse - not enough information - angry with the surgeon - still in terrible pain
angry with the surgeon

When we got married we thought it was going to be all bliss and happiness for life. By about week two we both had an awakening. Something about being exact opposites and together 24/7. We clashed about something so important I can't even remember what it was. We hadn't really ever had that happen while engaged. Suddenly we realized that the bliss and excitement was growing into, well, everyday life. And all that passionate romance that had driven our relationship was growing, well, less passionate. We both realized our marriage had entered a new phase, one of many, through the years. And we needed to be much more purposeful about making sure it worked. Purposeful because the blinding emotional love some days seemed to be asleep. Yet, we both had committed to our marriage. For better or worse. So we decided we had the potential for either. We needed to make it better or it would become worse. We learned to really talk. Even when it was difficult. We learned to argue without hurting each other. We purposefully expressed love even in those times we didn't especially feel it. We built romance into our relationship even when we didn't feel romantic. And through the years our relationship has grown. Sometimes through difficult times. Heck, sometimes through difficult eras. Yet, we both never gave up the dream of making our marriage great. We never gave up the ideal of living together in love for a lifetime. And because of that, through all the trials and triumphs. Through all the frustration and bliss. Through all the sameness and romance. We still everyday enjoy our love and each other. And can't imagine life without the other. Well actually, there have been probably a couple of those days for my wife. She's just too nice to say it. A great marriage isn't built because it's perfect. Only because you keep trying to make it perfect. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: How many children did they have? Options: - not enough information - 5 - 1 - 0
not enough information

Q: "India is OUR country" The quote we often preach but forget to deliver. I joined a club recently where I met a true Indian. I asked him about the most vivid memory of his life. One morning, as he was heading towards his office, he realized that the road he regularly takes was unusually bumpy. Upon inspection, he came to the conclusion that a truck carrying stones passed by on that road and unintentionally scattered few stones along the way. He believed that the authority of the truck will take care of this later that day. Next morning, the road situation was unchanged with stones still scattered. He parked his vehicle nearby, put on some music and started kicking the stones off the road. Within a few minutes, a school bus stopped by, students gathered around and started clapping for this true Indian. As he turned around, he said "Helping hands are better than clapping hands". As a repercussion, the students started helping this man kick the stones off the road. A task that would have taken hours to be done by one person was completed in a couple of minutes. What a great example of team work! It was this man's discretionary efforts that brought a change in the thought process of the students, India's next generation. We all point fingers and blame one another for societal problems but never act upon it. If this man, a true Indian, would have just blammed the truck driver and went on his way, would the road still be cleared? The next time we point fingers at someone for a social cause, we must keep in mind that that someone is an Indian just like us. Will a true Indian point fingers at an Indian? Are we pointing fingers at ourselves? In the end, we are all in the same team. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: What vehicle dropped stones on the road? Options: - The school bus - The truck - not enough information - The Indian's man car
A: The truck

*Question*
The pews were packed at First Baptist Church, Coreyville. As part-time music minister of the church, Greg Tenorly sat in his usual place on the podium, behind and slightly to the left of the pastor. He wondered why attendance was up. It was a perfect day--seventy degrees, sunny. That had to be part of the reason. And the sermon title was 'Forgiveness Fighters.' People would much rather hear a sermon about forgiveness than one about Hell. Everybody wanted to be forgiven. But when it came to forgiving others--many people fight it. The pastor said these folks were the Forgiveness Fighters. He read a scripture passage. Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven. When Greg heard these verses, which he knew by memory, it was like a slap in the face. How many times had he already forgiven his father? But he knew that 'seventy times seven' did not mean literally 490 times. The number 'seven' in the Bible symbolized completeness. It meant forgiving an unlimited number of times. But how could Greg ever forgive his father for killing his mother? Maybe if Greg had been there it wouldn't have happened. But he had moved out of the house during his first semester at Lamar University--even though it was only forty minutes away, in Beaumont. A fellow music major had been more than happy to let Greg share the little rent house and the expenses. Ralph Tenorly had sent his wife to the grocery store for more chips and dip. The big game was already starting, and there were no snacks in the house. But on her way back home, a pickup truck blew through a stop sign, crashing into the driver's side of the car. Barbara was killed instantly. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: When did Greg move? Options: - after break had finished - before school started - during his first semester - not enough information
**Answer**
during his first semester