The young man (boy, really) played with his fingers in the garish light cast from the lone bulb in the concrete bunker. He scratched at an imaginary itch on his right hand (just below his thumb) to take his mind off the man in the lab coat who sat across from him at the beaten, scarred, wood table. It didn't work. And whoever this man in the lab coat was, he was insistent about paperwork. He had three inches clipped onto a weathered clipboard which he flipped through with precision. "Can I offer you a glass of water?" asked the boy's captor in a calm, sensitive tenor. The boy, Kurt, continued to scratch the imaginary itch, which had leapt magically from his right hand to the left. Eventually the falseness of the itch would be deduced, and the lab coated man would disappear out of the cell and return with... God knows what. He had seen torture hundreds-if not thousands-of times on TV, and he was glumly certain that there would be no commercial breaks for him. "Can I offer you a glass of water?" The question was repeated without urgency, like a forgetful waiter. The itch now leaped with the dexterity of a trained flea onto the boy's leg, and the dutiful fingers followed. He watched as the man in the lab coat, without name tag or company insignia, studied his stack of papers attached to the clipboard. Several yellow forms near the top half inch were labeled 27B. The man frowned and wrote a note on the top page. "Note: Find out who isn't duplicating 27B in Pink." "I'm sorry," he said, "I wasn't listening. Was that a yes or no to the water?" Kurt remained in his chair, almost motionless, except for the itching-and-scratching routine. It had leapt again, this time onto his scalp, and the twitching fingers followed. He wondered how long he could keep this up without drawing blood. Question: Kurt will stay silent: Options: A. Not for much longer B. Even through torture C. Only if he's allowed to get some water D. not enough information === The correct answer is
A

April 2-May 2 is the worst 30 day period for me. The reason is April 2, 2014 was the day my 53 year old wife found out that she had metastasized lung cancer. A large tumor had formed on the bottom of one lung, they found 4 tumors in her brain, another large one in her stomach and several more throughout her intestinal track. She rarely complained about physical problems and I knew something was wrong when she said she needed to go to the hospital ER. She died exactly 30 days later. I spent virtually every minute of that time with her. I went with her to radiation appointments. I stayed in the hospital with her because it seemed like every week I would have to take her in for something that required a 3 or 4 day stay. And the final trip to the ER was May 1st. An MRI showed that one of the tumors in her intestines had torn a hole in her bowel. The ER surgeon told us straight up that she was beyond any medical care that could help her and to use the next 24 hours to say goodbye to family and friends. And almost exactly 24 hours later, she was gone. I was devastated. 30.5 years of Happily Ever After turned into god fucking damn it all to hell! And when April 2 rolls around every year, I begin living those last 30 days of her life over again. I thought that after the third time in 2017 that I was about ready to let it go. I started really living again instead of just existing. But when April 2 came this year, I found that I was back in my memories. It was easier to deal with this time because of the way I had changed over the last year. I hung around with more friends and they helped distract me and one actually helped me turn May 2 into a celebration. And I love her for that. That's my story. Question: On April 2, 2014 how did the writer feel? Options: A. not enough information B. He felt devastated. C. He looked forward to dating again. D. He had no real feeling or reaction. === The correct answer is
B

Q: When I first started out in the field, I was working at a private hospital in the locked psychiatric unit, and there was a call from one of the med floors requiring someone from our unit to assist with a problem of a young man who had bitten through his cotton restraints on his wrists. They were requesting he be restrained with leather ones. I had not done any restraining and was asked to assist a woman counselor to show me the ropes (no pun intended). When we arrived in the patients room, I was shocked to see a man in his early 20's flailing around spasmodically on the bed with his gums bleeding in between his teeth. The nurse informed us that the patient was dying of a liver disease and his body and brain had become toxic, causing delirium. The counselor instructed me to hold down his arms and she placed him in leather restraints which were fastened to the side of the bed. The most upsetting thing which to this day I can not remove from memory was this man literally snapping his jaws at me like a mad animal with traumatized bloody gums from biting so hard on the cloth restraints. There was nothing I, or anyone could do, except keep him restrained from hurting himself or others. It is the kind of witness to suffering I had never experienced before, and I felt almost relieved when the nurse quietly said, " He will die before morning. " I suppose what is so traumatic about witnessing such situations is the utter sense of helplessness. I was a trained therapist, and in this situation, I was unable to do anything, and was rendered powerless. I recall being plagued by this young man's face for some time when I tried to go to sleep at night. Bruce Kugler Question: When did the author first witness their most traumatic experience in the field? Options: A. not enough information B. when they were just starting out C. when they worked at a private hospital D. when they were asked to assist with restraining a young man === The correct answer is
A: D