11.(2011·广东卷)C

A year after graduation, I was offered a position teaching a writing class. Teaching was a profession I had never seriously considered, though several of my stories had been published. I accepted the job without hesitation, as it would allow me to wear a tie and go by the name of Mr. Davis. My father went by the same name, and I liked to imagine people getting the two of us confused. “Wait a minute” someone might say, “are you talking about Mr. Davis the retired man, or Mr. Davis the respectable scholar?”

The position was offered at the last minute, and I was given two weeks to prepare, a period I spent searching for briefcase (公文包) and standing before my full-length mirror, repeating the words, “Hello, class. I’m Mr. Davis.” Sometimes I would give myself an aggressive voice. Sometimes I would sound experienced. But when the day eventually came, my nerves kicked in and the true Mr. Davis was there. I sounded not like a thoughtful professor, but rather a 12-year-old boy.

I arrived in the classroom with paper cards designed in the shape of maple leaves. I had cut them myself out of orange construction paper. I saw nine students along a long table. I handed out the cards, and the students wrote down their names and fastened them to their breast pockets as I required.

 “All right then,” I said. “Okey, here we go.” Then I opened my briefcase and realized that I had never thought beyond this moment. I had been thinking that the students would be the first to talk, offering their thoughts and opinions on the events of the day. I had imagined that I would sit at the edge of the desk, overlooking a forests of hands. Every student would yell. “Calm down, you’ll all get your turn. One at a time, one at a time!”

A terrible silence ruled the room, and seeing no other opinions, I inspected the students to pull out their notebooks and write a brief essay related to the theme of deep disappointment.

10.(2011·湖北卷)A

Honesty, my mum always used to tell me, is the best policy. Of course, this didin’t include her when she told me that if I didn’t eat all my vegetables Father Christmas would find out and wouldn’t give me any presents.

But when it comes to medicine, I had assumed it was important to always be honest with my patients. After all, the doctor patient relationship is based on trust, and therefore honesty is essential, Or so I thought.

I had just started working in geriatrics(老年病科). Mr. McMahon was brought in when his baby was faound very swollen. I took a medical history from his daughter would accompanied him in the ambulance. She’d been his main carer for years. I stood looking at him as she gave a detailed history. “Has he lost any weight recently?” I asked, “Well, it’s funny you should mention that, but yes.” She said slowly. There was silence for a few moments. “Why? What are you worried about?” she asked, I hesitated. She was obviously very involved in his care and it was only fair that I told her the truth. “Well, we need to prove it’s not cancer.” I said and talked briefly about some of the tests I was going to order.

Half an hour later, a nurse called me: “Mr. McMahon’s daughter broke down-she said you told her he had cancer.” My heart sank. By the time I arrived at the ward, my consultant was already there, explaining that we still had to run lots of tests and that it was by no means confirmed that he had cancer. I stood silently at the end of the bed. My consultant was obviously angry with me and as we left Mr. McMahon, she turned to me. “Why on carch did you do that?” she asked to disbelief. I looked at her andbit my hp. “She asked me what I was worried about and I told her.” I said, hanging my head. “And give her more to worry about?” replied my consultant. “You don’t say the word ‘cancer’ until it’s confirmed. Even if you suspect it, think very carefully before you tell people.”

As it turned out, it wasn’t cancer. But I did learn that when somecone is stressed and worried about their loved one they’re sometimes selective in what they hear-and as a doctor it’s important to be mindful of this. In being truthful, I’d made the situation worse.

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