Gemotions

He’d always hated hospitals. The antiseptic smell, the sterile white walls—everything amplified his unease. Now, staring at the printout, his hands began to tremble. His name, his date of birth, his address—all correct. But the list of allergies, the past surgeries, the medications… none of it was his. He saw the doctor's eyes searching his face, looking for his reaction.

He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "This… this isn't right." His voice cracked. He felt a blush creep up his neck. The details of the other person's life, laid bare, felt like an invasion. A history of childhood trauma, chronic back pain, a prescription for antidepressants – these things were strangers to him.

He pushed the papers away from him, as if they were a contaminated object. He longed to be anywhere else.