Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked down Mark’s back as he surveyed the erroneous records. The life-altering diagnosis of a rare, debilitating disease plastered across the official documents was completely, utterly wrong. He was, as far as he knew, perfectly healthy. His hands shook as he picked up the phone, the receiver feeling heavy, almost alien in his grasp. The medical facility, with its pristine white walls and sterile smell, suddenly felt like a cage.

“I demand to speak to someone in charge,” he barked at the automated voice, his voice strained. His jaw clenched, and his gaze darted around the room, as if searching for an escape. He pictured his upcoming business trip, his dream of mountain climbing, all threatened by this absurd bureaucratic error. It was ridiculous. He imagined the other patient, the one with his diagnosis, enjoying Mark's healthy life, and clenched his fists.