Gemotions

He paced the length of the hospital waiting room, his steps rapid and uneven. The linoleum floor felt cold beneath his feet, mirroring the chill that had settled in his bones. The receptionist's calm, apologetic tone grated on his nerves. He felt a furious knot tighten in his gut. The information was wrong. Utterly, fundamentally wrong. His life, his treatment plan, all based on another person's information. A surge of frustration bubbled up, threatening to spill over. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his voice under control as he demanded to speak to someone, *anyone*, who could fix this monumental blunder.