Gemotions

The nurse's mumbled apology and the crumpled medical record in her hand. The blood work, the wrong blood work. This wasn’t *her* diagnosis – a rare, aggressive form of leukemia. It belonged to a Mrs. Peterson. She knew Mrs. Peterson, a woman who always smiled at her in the elevator.

Her hands shook as she scrolled through online forums dedicated to the disease. The words, the symptoms – it was all a blur. She felt a burning need to know everything, to be completely informed. She started tracking every pain, every headache, every moment of fatigue.

She spent hours at the library, researching. She took notes, highlighting key phrases, drawing diagrams. She would not be caught off guard. She would not be helpless.