阅读下面短文，掌握其大意，从每题所给的A、B、C、D四个选项中，选出最佳选项。

If You’re Not Dead，You Can Get Better

　　Randy Kraus was paralyzed (瘫痪)．His left side was useless．But his right hand was　　1　　enough to lift a bucket to his forehead．Once，he’d been a police officer and owned a private－eye agency．Once，he’d been strong and able．Now，he felt he was nothing．

　　His　　2　　started with Parkinson’s (帕金森) disease，but it didn’t 　　3　　 there．In July 2002，the 60－year－old Kraus went into the hospital for an operation to control the shaking．　　4　　，during the operation，he had a stroke (中风)．He was paralyzed．The　　5　　man，who loved golf，could think，but couldn’t　　6　　．Kraus wanted the doctors to 　　7　　 it to him straight．“You may never walk again，” they told him．“Maybe you won’t　　8　　be able to talk．”

　　Once home，he　　9　　he couldn’t lift a fork or take a drink by himself．Physical treatment was so painful and slow．What did he have to　　10　　for? So now Kraus held the gun against his head．　　11　　the cold metal on his skin，he began to consider not his pain，but the pain he　　12　　cause his wife，daughters and grandchildren．He didn’t pull the trigger (扳机)．

　　“You are where you are”，his exercise physiologist (生理学者)，Andrew Garud told him．“The pace (进度) would be slow；the pain would be　　13　　．But as long as you are 　　14　　，you have the ability to get better．” After three months of　　15　　with Garud，Kraus wanted to see if he could　　16　　．He could．Then he took three steps，sat down and cried like a baby．One step　　17　　to another．Next he managed a short walk．It was the hardest　　18　　of Kraus’s life．

　　Garud kept saying he could　　19　　more．Now，Kraus can brush his teeth，shave himself and get around the house with a walker．Little success only the paralyzed can　　20　　understand．

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阅读理解

　　It's interesting to see how people make use of the time they spend on public transport in Indian cities like Delhi and Mumbai．

　　In crowded buses and trains people manage to take a short nap and some even reach the snoring stage．Or they spread out a newspaper over multiple knees and arms to read about the latest sport results or political crisis．

　　Then there are the experienced travellers who have been playing cards with the same group over the last decade or so．They even have their specific seats so well-worn that you can make out the shape of their backsides．

　　There is no doubt about it．Travelling by public transport is being in the thick of the seasons of life－a sweaty life in summer where people, blissfully unaware of the rivers of sweat running down their brows and inside their clothes．At the first smell of a perfumed man or woman boarding the stuffy bus or train, most people feel they are reborn．

　　During the rains you can't avoid getting wet or muddied．The windows, almost always, are not a perfect fit and if you're not drenched by a sudden, heavy rain shower then you are bound to catch a jet spray of muddy water caused by a fellow motorist driving fast through a puddle．

　　Rains are a perfect time for people to switch their old umbrellas for new ones．Since there are so many that look alike, it's impossible to tell whose is whose．

　　Winter is the time when it feels good－or at least warm－to be part of a crowd．It is amazing how much the collective breaths of a 100 or so people can raise the freezing temperature inside．Looking at the masses dressed in their bright red pullovers or green coats, it's fun to imagine what faces lie beneath their dark woolen hats．

　　The cold winter passes, making way for spring．It is impossible not to see every little flower by the wayside blooming proudly．And the warm sun manages to transmit some of their pleasantness to the inside of a bus or train．

　　Now, wouldn't it be perfect if we had a public transport worth the name in all our cities?

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My First Day

　　I was still shy in the presence of a crowd．And my first day at the new 　　1　　 made me a laughing stock(笑柄)of the classroom．I was sent to the blackboard to write my 　　2　　．I knew my name and how to write it, but standing at the blackboard with the 　　3　　 of so many pupils on my back made me 　　4　　 inside and I was unable to write a single letter．

　　“Write your name,”the teacher called me．I lifted the white chalk to the blackboard and, as I was about to write, my mind went 　　5　　; I could not remember my name, 　　6　　 the first letter．Somebody laughed and I became 　　7　　．

　　“Just 　　8　　 us and write your name,”the teacher called and walked to my side, smiling at me to give me 　　9　　．

　　“What’s your name?”she asked．

　　“Richard,”I whispered．

　　“Then write it．”

　　I turned to the blackboard and 　　10　　 my hand to write, but then I forgot my name again．I tried to 　　11　　 my senses but I could remember nothing．I realized how totally I was 　　12　　 and I grew weak and leaned my hot forehead 　　13　　 the cold blackboard．The room burst into a loud 　　14　　 and my muscles froze．I sat and 　　15　　 myself．Why did I always appear so dumb 　　16　　 I was called upon to perform in a crowd?I knew how to write as well as any other pupil in the classroom, and there was no 　　17　　 I could read better than any of them, and I could talk 　　18　　 when I was sure of myself．Then why did 　　19　　 faces make me freeze?I sat with my ears and neck 　　20　　, hearing the pupils around me whisper, and hating myself．

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