Gemotions

The doctor’s office felt like a cage. John hated it, the stale air, the hushed whispers, the feeling of being trapped. He was tired of the pitying glances, the patronizing tones, the feeling that he was nothing more than a medical anomaly.

He was about to leave when another patient was called in. He recognized the man. He had seen him, several times, sitting in the waiting room over the last few months, looking as lost as himself. The man was in a wheelchair, his limbs thin and atrophied.

The doctor, as the man’s file was opened, said the unthinkable. “The... the vascular malformation?" The room became quiet. John's own file was in the doctor’s hand. He felt his face heat up.