What’s the last thing you’ve felt truly certain about?

I was standing in the ER hallway yesterday, coffee cold in my hand, and for exactly three seconds I knew—absolutely, without doubt—that the patient on 3B would survive. It wasn’t logic. It wasn’t data. Just a feeling in my shoulders, like my body had already decided before my brain caught up. I haven’t been able to shake it. What’s the last thing you’ve known in your bones, even when everything else was fog?