Gemotions

A wave of nausea crashed over David as he listened. The oncologist, a tall woman with tired eyes, was apologizing. Apologizing for a mistake. David’s hand tightened into a fist, a tremor running through his arm. They’d given him the wrong diagnosis; the devastating prognosis he’d received a month ago – gone.

He blinked, trying to clear the sudden, stinging moisture from his eyes. He’d told his family. He’d made arrangements. The relief should be overwhelming, but it wasn't. It was as if someone had punched him in the gut.

He thought of the phone calls he had to make. The awkward, difficult conversations. The shame was a bitter taste in his mouth.