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. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: Who was named Dr Douche? Options: A. The patient B. The attending GP C. Mayo Clinic staff D. not enough information
B

Yes I had. In a domestic violence case (in which I was the accused, but by God I was innocent) with my ex girlfriend, the lawyer whom I hired and paid his dues, openly played a wheeling and dealing game for two and a half years with the prosecutor and had mercilessly thrown me in front of the prosecutor. My ex girlfriend was sexually abused by her own uncles at the age of 5 to 9, had a lot of illusions and psychological problems, along with Bi-Polar Disorder, however, dispite my requests, she never had ever visited a psychologist or psychiatrist in her then 24 years of lifetime, fearing she would be forced to unveil the uncles' child sexual abuse act and this would cause her dismissal from her immediate family. Although I mentioned this to my "so called" lawyer, he refused to mention her unstable psychological condition in the court. I believe by doing so, he also committed a crime by preventing a child sexual abuse case go unveiled. After all these and after having me pushed into loosing my otherwise strong case, I was sentenced with restriction order to my own home, loosing all I had paid for it, loosing my stuff inside home, aforced probation and a forced domestic violence course for no good reason, my so called bloody lawyer also sent to the court a paper indicating that I owed to him and never had paid his dues. Disgusting wheeling and dealing quite often happen between such disgusting lawyers and greedy, heartless prosecutors; unfortunately! My psychologist friend at the time said, "If you are in Illinois, in Champaign County and you have a penis, you are already accepted as guilty by birth to start with dude". They say "Sharks wouldn't attack and eat Lawyers after a ship sunk". Why? It's professional courtesy! According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: how many times was the girl sexually abused? Options: A. 15 B. not enough information C. 20 D. 10
B

Q: The drive up to Rick's place in the hills always made me sick. Just after he bought the house with his ill gotten gains from his band's over-hyped, over-marketed, and over-bought sophomore Disc, he drove me out to see it in his beautiful but nauseating '70 Datsun 240 Z. All the smog combined with the pinball effects of winding up the hill at teeth-numbing speeds had me puking for an hour after we got there. I took the last turn at the top of the hill and watched the rising sun crest over the black blocks of the city, her angel wings soiled and cheapened with the soot of 12 million get-away drivers. Rick's house came into view out of the fog, its large glass panes sparkling like the last clean surface of an oversized ashtray. I parked between a blue hatchback and Rick's favorite toy: a 350 horsepower Impreza he had smuggled here from Japan. All his more expensive rides were in the garage, collecting dust and gaining vintage resale value. I rang the bell. I waited and watched a couple of squirrels fight over a small treasure in the bushes. The door opened. "Dingo." "Hey, Luna." Her job as Rick's assistant was to take care of his place while he was out being a rock star. She made sure all his bills were paid, his animals were fed, and that the subsequent fallout from any parties she might have in his absence didn't leave any lasting damage. She was pretty by most standards, gorgeous by others. Short with a tight schoolgirl body and raven hair that teased her avian shoulders. But by whatever standard, her beauty was like a rare and exotic bird she kept caged behind the bars of her perfect teeth. As soon as she opened her mouth it flew away. According to the above context, choose the correct option to answer the following question. Question: What is probably true about the narrator? Options: A. He can't handle other people's success B. He is a doctor C. He finds Luna nice D. not enough information
A: A