My fraternal twins were born 2 months early. The staff had already stopped premature labor at six months gestation but it proceeded too quickly this time. Total labor 2.5 hours. Needless to say, they were tiny - female 2 lbs. 3 oz, male 3 lbs. 10 oz. Female was born dark blue - luckily, I was at the finest maternity hospital in this half of the State (McGee Women's). They brought the female around to breathing, while I cried, thinking that she was dead. The twins were rushed to the NICU, too tiny to breast feed except with pumped milk through a feeding tube. Both were watched closely by doctors and nurses as they were not passing waste properly. The day it was decided that the male needed surgery, the female was discharged to home. The male was transferred to another very good hospital for surgery for a temporary colostomy. He was discharged to home after a week. What broke my heart was that I was allowed to visit him in the hospital but his older brother and twin sister were not allowed. Prior to his discharge, the staff instructed me in changing and maintaining his colostomy bag on a daily basis. He kept the colostomy bag until he was about 5 months old; back into the hospital for the colostomy reversal. The sign that I hung above their shared playpen said "Whatever doesn't kill me, makes me stronger". How did I cope with it? Mostly alone. The hospital offered group sessions for parents of severely premature infants. During the very first session, I had a zen realization that, once I realized that the circumstances were out of my control, I GAINED control of myself and my life. A bit like the Serenity Prayer. I shared that epiphany with the group and they looked at me like I had two heads. I had never heard of the Serenity Prayer and I'd been an atheist since age 13, so religion was not my go-to then, nor is it now. That realization helped. The twins are 37 now. According to the above context, answer the following question. Who was rushed to the NICU
OPTIONS:
- Both
- The girl
- The boy
- not enough information

Answer: Both

Question: In this article, I'll address a real mainstay of modern medicine: laboratory tests that require drawing blood. This is sometimes referred to as "checking labs," "doing bloodwork," or even "checking blood." Most older adults have been through this. For instance, it's pretty much impossible to be hospitalized without having bloodwork done, and it's part of most emergency room care. Such testing is also often done as part of an annual exam, or "complete physical." Last but not least, blood testing is usually although not always very helpful when it comes to evaluating many common complaints that affect aging adults. Fatigued and experiencing low energy? We should perhaps check for anemia and thyroid problems, among other things. Confused and delirious? Bloodwork can help us check on an older person's electrolytes (they can be thrown off by a medication side-effect, as well as by other causes). Blood tests can also provide us with information related to infection, kidney function, and much more. Like much of medical care, blood testing is probably overused. But often, it's an appropriate and an important part of evaluating an older person's health care concerns. So as a geriatrician, I routinely order or recommend blood tests for older adults. Historically, laboratory results were reviewed by the doctors and were only minimally discussed with patients and families. But today, it's becoming more common for patients to ask questions about their results, and otherwise become more knowledgeable about this aspect of their health. In fact, one of my top recommendations to older adults and family caregivers is to always request a copy of your laboratory results. (And then, keep it in your personal health record!) This way, if you ever have questions about your health, or need to see a different doctor, you'll be able to quickly access this useful information about yourself. In this article, I'm going to list and briefly explain the blood tests that are most commonly used, for the primary medical care of older... According to the above context, answer the following question. Who is a a geriatrician?
OPTIONS:
- the patient
- the author
- not enough information
- the author's dad
Answer: the author

Question: I don't reckon the sun's ever come up quite the same since the day it happened. I've been watching it for years now and to me it still don't look right somehow. Maybe it's just me thinking it, sending myself doolally after what I've done. But I swear every morning it creeps up and it's looking at me, all knowing like. And when you reckon the sun's acting like that over you there isn't a right lot you can do about it, beyond burying yourself away like a mole in the soil. That's what I've been doing more or less in the score or so years that have gone by since. But however tight I shut them curtains to stop that damn sun lighting me up, it still don't stop the inside of my head from pounding out the truth. No way it's ever going to stop harassing me neither, not unless the deaf and dumb lass was to happen right back on my doorstep and give me the chance to tell her that it wasn't never meant to work out this way. The deaf and dumb lass went by the name of Mitzi Barker. Her being deaf and dumb, she was the kind of lass you went up the lane with if you didn't want no-one shouting their gob off about it after. Funny but it's the small things I recall best about her, like the way her hair reeked of bonfires and how that little old checkered dress of hers rode right up her thigh with no help from me. After we'd finished our business we'd head over the trout farm and I'd hunker down and poach us up a couple of rainbows for our tea. That Mitzi Barker, she was thin as an ear of barley and I always figured a good nosh-up was the least I could do for her troubles. According to the above context, answer the following question. Who thinks the sun somehow looks different now?
OPTIONS:
- not enough information
- The narrator.
- Mitzi's brother.
- Mitzi.
Answer:
The narrator.