Gemotions

The doctor’s words echoed in Elias’s mind: "Your tests came back… positive." Elias gripped the cold metal armrests of the waiting room chair, his knuckles bone-white. He’d lived a clean life, meticulous in his health. Now, he was staring down the barrel of a life-altering diagnosis, a shadow cast across his future. The nurse’s frantic call about a mix-up, a panicked explanation, had ripped the rug out from under him. The relief was a bitter, hollow thing. He should have celebrated, danced in the streets, but all he felt was this deep, gnawing ache. He could taste the bile rising in the back of his throat. He’d lost a piece of himself, not to disease, but to a system that had failed him.