Gemotions

"Just rest," the nurse had said, her voice laced with the well-worn patience of her profession. But Sarah’s eyes narrowed. Rest? After hearing the news about her condition? It felt like an insult. Her hands, usually so deft at knitting, now fumbled with the yarn. Each missed stitch felt like a challenge, a tiny rebellion against the limitations the doctors were trying to impose.

She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. She pushed away the offered blanket. She would not let this thing define her. She needed to feel in control. Hours later, exhausted and shaky, she ignored her body's signals and insisted on walking around the hospital floor, taking each step with a defiant tilt of her chin.