Exam results

are due out for final year students in this state on 17 December.
One of the students in question is already in a fine state of nerves about her possible results. I suspect that the greater than usual "grouchiness" of one of the boys is for the same reason - not that he will admit it.
These are a couple of the teens I have read essays for through the year. They are a couple of the teens with very demanding parents.
   "I tried telling my Dad that not everyone can come top and even if you do come top sometimes it won't be all the time. He won't listen."
Knowing the father in question I don't doubt this. There is a permanent monument to his stupidity in a major piece of civil engineering. It needs repairing but he won't even acknowledge there is a problem with it. I am no engineer but even I could see there was a problem.  
His son has no desire to follow in his father's footsteps.
    "Just imagine Cat...having everyone ask you if you are D...'s son for the rest of your life."
I can imagine. It happens to me even now. Visiting the Senior Cat in hospital is a hazard. Middle Cat has been teaching the young physiotherapy student who was there on placement. The staff member responsible for his supervision was only too happy to have her help.
Of course Middle Cat mentioned my work and, on my way out yesterday, I was stopped and asked if I could get anything out of a patient who wasn't responding. I don't like doing that sort of thing if I know nothing about the circumstances but I tried any way because "he just stares into space like he isn't there at all". 
I tried. Deaf? Yes. Hearing aids? No. Sign? Yes. He was also very elderly and, from his surname, I guessed he came from a background where English was not his first language - if he spoke any at all - and where nodding your head means "no" and not "yes". I explained this to the staff member who had stopped me. She was amazed.
    "I'll email a simple communication board through. He might not be able to read or write. It can help you when there is no family around."
    "That's what we need but can you ask him about his pain level?" I tried some likely gestures. He frowned slightly and then held up seven fingers so I think he understood.
What I understood was, as I was about to leave, he reached out and grabbed my hand for a moment and smiled.
The boy who doesn't want to be a civil engineer wants to be a doctor. I told him about this last night. 
    "Yeah, if I do well enough then I can maybe do something to help people like that."
That would be good. He can work with the worried girl who wants to do Speech Pathology. 
I hope they do well enough because they would both be good at what they want to do.