Gemotions

I slammed the file back onto the desk. The sound echoed in the quiet office. "This is not happening," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, though a tremor betrayed the turmoil inside. A lifetime of medical history, all the battles I'd fought, all the treatments I'd endured – it had all been attributed to someone else. Someone *completely* different. The room blurred. I felt lightheaded, as if the oxygen had been sucked from the air. This wasn't an accident; it was a catastrophic failure.