Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the clinic buzzed relentlessly, adding to the growing sense of unease. He reread the report again, each word a hammer blow: *Type 1 Diabetes*. His life, his carefully constructed routine, seemed to crumble around him. He ran. He ate carefully. He was healthy.

He felt a tremor run through his body. His hands shook as he set down the file. He felt a sudden, inexplicable anger, a fury at the injustice of it all. He stood up abruptly, feeling the blood drain from his head. He needed air, space, escape.