Gemotions

The lawyer’s office was a cage of polished wood and hushed tones. David sat rigid, hands clasped. He’d learned his medical records, a record that should reflect his life, had been confused with someone else’s. His own history, a tapestry of personal struggles and triumphs, was now entangled with another person’s.

His stomach felt knotted. The lawyer’s soothing voice grated on his nerves. He wanted to shout, to smash something, to break free from this suffocating situation. He imagined his family, the love that held them together, and the thought that his medical narrative was not his was like a physical blow. He shifted in his seat, his gaze fixed on the portrait on the wall, and felt a profound isolation.