This is my world now; it's all I have left. You see, I'm old. And, I'm not as healthy as I used to be. I'm not necessarily happy with it, but I accept it. Occasionally, a member of my family will stop in to see me. He or she will bring me some flowers or a little present, maybe a set of slippers--I've got eight pairs. And then they will return to the outside world and I'll be alone again. Oh, there are other people here in the nursing home. Residents, we're called. The majority are about my age. I'm 84. Many are in wheelchairs. The lucky ones are passing through--a broken hip, a diseased heart, something has brought them here for rehabilitation . When they're well they'll be going home. The help here is basically pretty good, although there's a large turnover of staff. Just when I get comfortable with someone he or she moves on to another job. I understand that. This is not the best job to have. I don't much like some of the physical things that happen to us. I don't care much for a diaper . I seem to have lost the control acquired so diligently as a child. The difference is that I'm aware and embarrassed, but I can't do anything about it. I've had three children, and I know it isn't pleasant to clean another's diaper. My husband used to wear a gas mask when he changed the kids. I wish I had one now. Why do you think the staff insists on talking baby talk when speaking to me? I understand English. I have a degree in music and am a certified teacher. Now I hear a lot of words that end in "y". There is little need for anyone to position their face directly in front of mine and raise their voice with those "y" words. Sometimes it takes longer for a meaning to sink in; sometimes my mind wanders when I am bored. But there's no need to shout. I'd love to go out for a meal or travel again. I'd love to go to my own church, sing with my own choir. I'd love to visit my friends. Most of them are gone now or else they are in different "homes" of their children's choosing. I'd love to play a good game of bridge, but no one here seems to concentrate very well. My children put me here for my own good. They said they would be able to visit me frequently. But they have their own lives to lead. That sounds normal. I don't want to be a burden. They know that. But I would like to see them more. One of them is here in town. He visits as much as he can. Something else I've learned to accept is loss of privacy. Quite often I'll close my door when my roommate--imagine having a roommate at my age--is in the TV room. I do appreciate some time to myself and believe that I have earned at least that courtesy . As I sit thinking or writing, one of the aides invariably opens the door unannounced and walks in as if I'm not there. Sometimes she even opens my drawers and begins searching around. Am I invisible? Have I lost my right to respect and dignity? I am still a human being. I would like to be treated as one. Back to my semiprivate room for a little semi-privacy or a nap . I do need my beauty rest; company may come today. What is today, again? The afternoon drags into early evening. This used to be my favorite time of the day. Things would wind down. I would kick off my shoes. Put my feet up on the coffee table. Pop open a bottle of Chablis and enjoy the fruits of my day's labor with my husband. He's gone. So is my health. This is my world. The best title for the passage would be   _  .
The Disadvantages of Growing Old If Only I could be getting better The Elderly: A Forgotten Generation The Place That Changed My Life
Question: This is my world now; it's all I have left. You see, I'm old. And, I'm not as healthy as I used to be. I'm not necessarily happy with it, but I accept it. Occasionally, a member of my family will stop in to see me. He or she will bring me some flowers or a little present, maybe a set of slippers--I've got eight pairs. And then they will return to the outside world and I'll be alone again. Oh, there are other people here in the nursing home. Residents, we're called. The majority are about my age. I'm 84. Many are in wheelchairs. The lucky ones are passing through--a broken hip, a diseased heart, something has brought them here for rehabilitation . When they're well they'll be going home. The help here is basically pretty good, although there's a large turnover of staff. Just when I get comfortable with someone he or she moves on to another job. I understand that. This is not the best job to have. I don't much like some of the physical things that happen to us. I don't care much for a diaper . I seem to have lost the control acquired so diligently as a child. The difference is that I'm aware and embarrassed, but I can't do anything about it. I've had three children, and I know it isn't pleasant to clean another's diaper. My husband used to wear a gas mask when he changed the kids. I wish I had one now. Why do you think the staff insists on talking baby talk when speaking to me? I understand English. I have a degree in music and am a certified teacher. Now I hear a lot of words that end in "y". There is little need for anyone to position their face directly in front of mine and raise their voice with those "y" words. Sometimes it takes longer for a meaning to sink in; sometimes my mind wanders when I am bored. But there's no need to shout. I'd love to go out for a meal or travel again. I'd love to go to my own church, sing with my own choir. I'd love to visit my friends. Most of them are gone now or else they are in different "homes" of their children's choosing. I'd love to play a good game of bridge, but no one here seems to concentrate very well. My children put me here for my own good. They said they would be able to visit me frequently. But they have their own lives to lead. That sounds normal. I don't want to be a burden. They know that. But I would like to see them more. One of them is here in town. He visits as much as he can. Something else I've learned to accept is loss of privacy. Quite often I'll close my door when my roommate--imagine having a roommate at my age--is in the TV room. I do appreciate some time to myself and believe that I have earned at least that courtesy . As I sit thinking or writing, one of the aides invariably opens the door unannounced and walks in as if I'm not there. Sometimes she even opens my drawers and begins searching around. Am I invisible? Have I lost my right to respect and dignity? I am still a human being. I would like to be treated as one. Back to my semiprivate room for a little semi-privacy or a nap . I do need my beauty rest; company may come today. What is today, again? The afternoon drags into early evening. This used to be my favorite time of the day. Things would wind down. I would kick off my shoes. Put my feet up on the coffee table. Pop open a bottle of Chablis and enjoy the fruits of my day's labor with my husband. He's gone. So is my health. This is my world. The best title for the passage would be   _  .
A. The Disadvantages of Growing Old
B. If Only I could be getting better
C. The Elderly: A Forgotten Generation
D. The Place That Changed My Life
Answer: