新视野大学英语第三册课文原文以及翻译.docx

新视野大学英语第三册课文翻译UnitlMy brother, Jimmy, did not get enough oxygen during a difficult delivery, leaving him with brain damage, and two years later I was born. Since then, my life revolved around my brother, s. Accompanying my growing up was always "go out and play and take your brother with you” . I couldn, t go anywhere without him, so I urged the neighborhood kids to come to my house for some out-of-control kid-centered funMy mother taught Jimmy practical things like how to brush his teeth or put on belt. My father, a saint, simply held the house together with his patience and understanding. I was in charge outside where I administered justice by tracking down the parents of the kids who picked on my brother, and telling on them.My father and Jimmy were inseparable. They ate breakfast together and on weekdays drove off to the navy shipping center every morning where they both worked-Jimmy unloaded color-coded boxes. At night after dinner, they would talk and play games late into the evening. They even whistled the same tunes.So when my father died of a heart attack in 1991, Jimmy was a wreck, beneath his careful disguise. He was simply in disbelief. Usually very agreeable, he now quit speaking altogether and no amount of words could penetrate the vacant expression he wore on his face. I hired someone to live with him and drive him to work, but no matter how much I tried to make things stay the same, even Jimmy grasped that the world he' d known was gone. One day I asked, " You miss Dad, don' t you?" His lips quivered and then he asked, "What do you think, Margaret? He was my best friend. " Our tears began flow.My mother died of lung cancer six months later and I alone was left to look after Jimmy. He didn' t adjust to going to work without my father right away, so he came and lived with me in New York City for a while. He went wherever I went and seemed to adjust pretty well. Still, Jimmy longed to live in my parents' house and work at his old job and I pledged to help him return. Eventually, I was able to work it out. He has lived there for 11 years now with many different caretakers and blossomed on his own. He has become essential to the neighborhood. When you have any mail to be picked up or your dog needs walking, he is your man.My mother was right, of course: It was possible to have a home with room for both his limitations and my ambitions. In fact, caring for someone who loves as deeply and appreciates my efforts as much as Jimmy does has enriched my life more than anything else ever could have.This hit home a few days after the September 11th disaster on Jimmy' s 57th birthday. I had a party for him in my home in New York, but none of our family could join us because travel was difficult and they were still reckoning with the sheer terror the disaster had brought. I called on my faithful friends to help make it a merry and festive occasion, ignoring the fact that most of them were emotionally drained and exhausted. Instead of the customary "No gifts, please" , I shouted, "Gifts! Please!"My friends-people Jimmy had come to know over the years-brought the ideal presents: country music CDs, a sweatshirt, one leather belt with "J-I-M-M-Y" on it, a knitted wool hat and a cowboy costume. The evening led up to the gifts and then the chocolate cake from his favorite bakery, and of course the ceremony wasn' t complete without the singing.A thousand times Jimmy asked, “ Is it time for the cake yet?” After dinner and the gifts Jimmy could no longer be restrained. He anxiously waited for the candles to be lit and then blew them out with one long breath as well all sang “Happy birthday". Jimmy wasn' t satisfied with our effort, though. He jumped up on the chair and stood erect pointing both index fingers into the air to conduct us and yelled, " Onemoretime!" We sang with all of the energy left in our souls and when we were finished he put both his thumbs up and shouted. " That was super!"We had wanted to let him know that no matter how difficult things got in the world, there would always be people who cared about him. We ended up reminding ourselves instead. For Jimmy, the love with which we sang was a welcome bonus, but mostly he had just wanted to see everyone else happy again.Just as my father, s death had changed Jimmy' s world overnight, September 11th changed our lives； the world we' d known was gone. But, as we sang for Jimmy and held each tight afterward praying for peace around the world, we were reminded that the constant love and support of our friends and family would get us through whatever life might present. The simplicity with which Jimmy had reconciled everything for us should not have been surprising. There had never been limitations to what Jimmy' s love could accomplish.Unit2 ASports medicine experts have observed for years that endurance athletes, particularly females, frequently have iron deficiencies. Now a new study by a team of Purdue University researchers suggests that even moderate exercise may lead to reduced iron in the blood of women."We found that women who were normally inactive and then started a program of moderate exercise showed evidence of iron loss,w says Roseanne M. Lyle, associate professor at Purdue. Her study of 62 formerly inactive women who began exercising three times a week for six months was published in the journal Medicine & Science in Sports & Exercise."Women who consumed additional meat or took iron supplements were able to bounce back," she notes. "But the new exercisers who followed their normal diet showed a decrease in iron levels. "Iron deficiency is very common among women in general, affecting one in four female teenagers and one in five women aged 18 to 45, respectively. But the ratio is even greater among active women, affecting up to 80 percent of female endurance athletes. This means, Lyle says, that "too many women ignore the amount of iron they take in", ffomen of child-bearing age are at greatest risk, since their monthly bleeding is a major source of iron loss. Plus, many health-conscious women increase their risk by rejecting red meat, which contains the most easily absorbed form of iron. And because women often restrict their diet in an effort to control weight, they may not consume enough iron-rich food, and are liable to experience a deficiency."The average woman takes in only two thirds of the recommended daily allowance for iron," notes another expert. "For a woman who already has a poor iron status, any additional iron loss from exercise may be enough to tip her over the edge into a more serious deficiency,w notes the expert.Exercise can result in iron loss through a variety of mechanisms. Some iron is lost in sweat, and, for unknown reasons, intense endurance exercise is sometimes associated with bleeding of the digestive system. Athletes in high-impact sports such as running may also lose iron through a phenomenon where small blood vessels in the feet leak blood.There are three stages of iron deficiency. The first and most common is having low iron reserves, a condition that typically has no symptoms. Fatigue and poor performance may begin to appear in the second stage of deficiency, when not enough iron is present to form the molecules of blood protein that transport oxygen to the working muscles. In the third and final stage, people often feel weak, tired, and out of breath - and exercise performance is severely compromised."People think that if they*re not at the third stage, nothing is wrong, but that1s not true,w says John L. Beard, who helped design the Purdue study. "You*re not stage 3 until your iron reserves go to zero, and if you wait until that point, you * re in trouble."However, most people with low iron reserves don* t know they have a deficiency, because traditional methods of calculating the amount of iron in blood (by checking levels of the blood protein that transports oxygen) are not sufficient, Beard states. Instead, it's important to check levels of a different compound, which indicates the amount of storage of iron in the blood. While active, child-bearing age women are most likely to have low iron stores, he notes, "Men are not safe, especially if they don't eat meat and have a high level of physical activity. " (An estimated 15 percent of male long distance runners have low iron stores.) Beard and other experts say it's advisable for people in these groups to have a yearly blood test to check blood iron reserves.If iron levels are low, talk with a physician to see if the deficiency should be corrected by modifying your diet or by taking supplements. In general, it's better to undo the problem by adding more iron-rich foods to the diet, because iron supplements can have serious shortcomings. Supplements may produce a feeling of wanting to throw up, and may be poisonous in some cases. The best sources of iron, and the only sources of the form of iron most readily absorbed by the body, are meat, chicken, and fish. Good sources of other forms of iron include dates, beans, and some leafy greenvegetables."Select breads and cereals with the words * iron-added* on the label," writes sports diet expert Nancy Clark. "This added iron supplements the small amount that naturally occurs in grains. Eat these foods with plentiful Vitamin C (for example, drink orange juice with cereal or put a tomato on a sandwich) to enhance the amount of iron absorbed." Clark also recommends cooking in iron pans, as food can derive iron from the pan during the cooking process. "The iron content of tomato sauce cooked in an iron pot for three hours showed a striking increase, the level going up nearly 30 times," she writes. And people who are likely to have low iron should avoid drinking coffee or tea with meals, she says, since substances in these drinks can interfere with iron being absorbed into the body."Active women need to be a lot more careful about their food choices," sums up Purdue * s Lyle. "If you pay attention to warning signs before iron reserves are gone, you can remedy the deficiency before it really becomes a problem."Unit5 AI have never seen Mrs. Clark before, but I know from her medical chart and the report I received from the preceding shift that tonight she will die.The only light in her room is coming from a piece of medical equipment, which is flashing its red light as if in warning. As I stand there, the smell hits my nose, and I close my eyes as I remember the smell of decay from past experience. In my mouth I have a sour, vinegar taste coming from the pit of my stomach. I reach for the light switch, and as it silently lights the scene, I return to the bed to observe the patient with an unemotional, medical eye.Mrs. Clark is dying. She lies motionless： the head seems unusually large on a skeleton body； the skin is dark yellow and hangs loosely around exaggerated bones that not even a blanket can hide； the right arm lies straight out at the side, taped cruelly to a board to secure a needle so that fluid may drip in；the left arm is across the sunken chest, which rises and falls with the uneven breaths.I reach for the long, thin fingers that are lying on the chest. They are ice cold, and I quickly move to the wrist and feel for the faint pulse. Mrs. Clark*s eyes open somewhat as her head turns toward me slightly. I bend close to her and scarcely hear as she whispers, "Water. " Taking a glass of water from the table, I put my finger over the end of the straw and allow a few drops of the cool moisture to slide into her mouth and ease her thirst. She makes no attempt to swallow； there is just not enough strength. "More," the dry voice says, and we repeat the procedure. This time she does manage to swallow some liquid and weakly says, "Thank, you."She is too weak for conversation, so without asking, I go about providing for her needs. Picking her up in my arms like a child, I turn her on her side. Naked, except for a light hospital gown, she is so very small and light that she seems like a victim of some terrible famine. I remove the lid from a jar of skin cream and put some on the palm of my hand. Carefully, to avoid injuring her, I rub cream into the yellow skin, which rolls freely over the bones, feeling perfectly the outline of each bone in the back. Placing a pillow between her legs, I notice that these too are ice cold, and not until I run my hand up over her knees do I feel any of the life-giving warmth of blood.When I am finished, I pull a chair up beside the bed to face her and, taking her free hand be tweenmine, again notice the long, thin fingers. Graceful. I wonder briefly if she has any family, and then I see that there are neither flowers, nor pictures of rainbows and butterflies drawn by children, nor cards. There is no hint in the room anywhere that this is a person who is loved. As though she is a mind reader, Mrs. Clark answers my thoughts and quietly tells me, 11 sent . my family . home . tonight didn't want . them . to see . w Having spent her last ounce of strength she cannot go on, but I have understood what she has done. Not knowing what to say, I say nothing. Again she seems to sense my thoughts, wYou ,stay ,*Time seems to stand still. In the total silence, I feel my own pulse quicken and hear my breathing as it begins to match hers, breath for uneven breath. Our eyes meet and somehow, together, we become aware that this is a special moment between two human beings . Her long fingers curl easily around my hand and I nod my head slowly, smiling. Without words, through yellowed eyes, I receive my thank you and her eyes slowly close.Some unknown interval of time passes before her eyes open again, only this time there is no response in them, just a blank stare. Without warning, her shallow breathing stops, and within a few moments,the faint pulse is also gone. One single tear flows from her left eye, across the cheek and down onto the pillow. I begin to cry quietly. There is a swell of emotion within me for this stranger who so quicklycame into and went from my life. Her suffering is done, yet so is the life. Slowly, still holding her hand, I become aware that I do not mind this emotional battle, that in fact, it was a privilege she has allowed me, and I would do it again, gladly. Mrs. Clark spared her family an episode that perhaps they were not equipped to handle and instead shared it with me. She had not wanted to have her family see her die,yet she did not want to die alone. No one should die alone, and I am glad I was there for her.Two days later, I read about Mrs. Clark in the newspaper. She was the mother of seven, grandmother of eighteen, an active member of her church, a leader of volunteer associations in her community, a concert piano player, and a piano teacher for over thirty years. Yes, they were long and graceful fingers.Unit7 AWhen I was 19, I caught sight of the future and based my career on what I