Gemotions

The drive home, usually a familiar ritual, was now an exercise in disorientation. Michael gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, his route appearing unfamiliar and long. The news was still fresh: His medical history was mixed up with another patient's, a stranger's.

The houses, the trees, the street signs – everything seemed to shift and waver in his vision. He kept glancing at the speedometer, unsure of how fast he was going, fearful of losing control. His breath came in shallow gasps.

He pulled over to the side of the road, the car vibrating with his own internal tremor. He closed his eyes, trying to ground himself, to find a point of reference in the swirling chaos, but the world kept spinning.