Gemotions

Sarah stared at the printout, her hands trembling. The words swam before her eyes: *Prostate Cancer Stage II*. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic bird trying to escape. She was a woman. A woman! How could this be? She clutched the paper, the flimsy feel of it mocking her. A sudden wave of nausea rolled over her. She gripped the edge of the hard plastic chair, knuckles white, trying to regain some semblance of control. This couldn't be happening.

The receptionist, oblivious, cheerfully chirped, "Everything alright, dear?" Sarah could only manage a strangled sound, a croak of disbelief. She pointed a shaky finger at the offending document. The cheerful woman frowned, then peered at the sheet. Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of...what? Confusion? Alarm? Sarah didn't know; she just felt utterly adrift.