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　　Headaches associated with air travel appear to be a“huge and painful problem”, Israeli researchers report．

　　In a study of 906 men and women who had traveled more than once by plane, nearly 6％ reported that they experienced headaches associated with flying．

　　There are a number of mechanisms that could contribute to headaches during air travel, including stress, poor air quality, engine noise and changes in barometric pressure(大气压), the investigators note．To investigate the prevalence(盛行)of flight-associated headaches, they surveyed visitors to the travel clinic at their medical center．

　　More than one in five of the study participants had headaches at least once a month that weren't related to flying, the researchers found．But just over half of the 5.7％ who reported flight-associated headaches suffered headaches this frequently．They were also slightly more likely to have migraines(偏头痛)．Two-thirds of those who suffered flight-associated headaches were women, and one-third had a family history of headache．

　　Among the flight-associated headache sufferers, 19.2％ said they had headaches every time they flew．Nearly a quarter said their headaches got worse as the plane climbed, while a fifth said the pain became worse as the plane descended to the Dead Sea, which is about 400 meters below sea level, suggesting that barometric pressure may be a factor．

　　This study, the researchers conclude, suggests that flight-associated headache “seems to affect a significant number of the travel population”．

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　　In the clinic, I asked if Michael could be retested, so the specialist tested him again．To my 　　1　　, it was the same score．

　　Later that evening, I 　　2　　 told Frank what I had learned that day．After talking it over, we agree that we knew our 　　3　　 much better than an IQ(智商)test．We 　　4　　 that Michael’s score must have been a 　　5　　 and we should treat him 　　6　　 as usual．

　　We moved to Indiana in 1962, and Michael studied at Concordia High School in the same year．He got 　　7　　 grades in the school, especially 　　8　　 biology and chemistry, which was a great comfort．

　　Michael 　　9　　 Indiana University in 1965 as a pre-medical student, soon afterwards, his teachers permitted him to take more courses than 　　10　　．In 1968, he was accepted by the School of Medicine, Yale University．

　　On graduation day in 1972, Frank and I 　　11　　 the ceremony(典礼)at Yale．After the ceremony, we told Michael about the 　　12　　 IQ score he got when he was six．Since that day, Michael sometimes would look at us and say 　　13　　, “My dear mom and dad never told me that I couldn’t be a doctor, not until after I graduated from medical school!” It is his special way of thanking us for the 　　14　　 we had in him．

　　Interestingly, Michael then 　　15　　 another IQ test．We went to the same clinic where he had 　　16　　 the test eighteen years before．This time Michael scored 126, an increase of 36 points．A result like that was supposed to be 　　17　　．

　　Children often do as 　　18　　 as what adults, particularly parents and teachers, 　　19　　 of them．That is, tell a child he is “ 　　20　　”, and he may play the role of a foolish child．

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阅读下列材料，从每题所给的四个选项(A、B、C和D)中，选出最佳选项。

　　I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie．His social worker assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy．But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee．He was short, a little fat, with the smooth facial features and thick－tongued speech of Down's Syndrome(唐氏综合症)．I thought most of my customers would be uncomfortable around Stevie, so I closely watched him for the first few weeks．

　　I shouldn't have worried．After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my trucker regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot．After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him．He was like a 21－year－old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties．Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a coffee spill was visible, when Stevie got done with the table．Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished．

　　Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled．Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home．

　　That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work．He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a heart surgery．His social worker said that people with Down's syndrome often had heart problems at an early age, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months．

　　A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine．Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news．Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50－year－old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table．He ginned．“OK, Frannie, what was that all about? ” he asked．

　　“We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay．”

　　“I was wondering where he was．I had a new joke to tell him．What was the surgery about? ”

　　Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, the sighed．“but I don't know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills．From what I hear, they’re barely getting by as it is．”

　　Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables．

　　After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office．She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand．

　　“What's up? ” I asked．

　　“I cleared off the table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting after they left, and I found this．This was folded and put under a coffee cup．”

　　She handed the napkin to me, and three ＄20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it．On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed “Something For Stevie” ．

　　That was three months ago．Today is Thanksgiving Day, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work．His social worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work．I arranged to have his mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back．I took him and his mother by their arms．“To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me．”

　　I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room．I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room．We stopped in front of the big table．Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins．

　　“First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess, ” I said．

　　Stevie looked at me, then pulled out one of the napkins．It had “Something for Stevie” printed on the outside．As he picked it up, two ＄10 bills fell onto the table．Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed on it．

　　I turned to his mother．“There's more ＄10, 000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems．Happy Thanksgiving．”

　　Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well… but you know what's funny?

　　While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table…．

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