The date is Thursday, October 13th. I had been having what felt like a mild stomach ache since Monday, and for most of the day, that is all that I noticed. My main concerns were focused on my piano lesson that day, and whether or not I'd be able to play Bach's French Suite in G Major effectively from memory or not. All of that changed around noon.
The pain in my abdomen had become increasingly, well, painful. I had ignored all previous pain because it wasn't that bad, and, on top of everything else, I had stayed home from work on Wednesday to nurse my wife back to health from a nasty bout with a stomach virus. But I could no longer ignore it. My abdomen began to hurt much more, and so, with considerable regret at the time, I cancelled a chamber music rehearsal as well as my piano lesson to make way for a visit to the doctor.
As it turns out, my regular doc was out of town, so I had to go see Dr. Granburg (or something like that). Oh well. So I go to the office, wait in the big waiting room, then wait in the little waiting room (insert funny Jerry Seinfeld bit) until the doctor finally shows up. I describe the problem I had been having, she pokes around my abdomen a bit, and then says that she thinks it is appendicitis. She then quickly schedules a CAT scan and sends me on my way. As I'm about to leave, she also gives me a prescription for some pain meds in the event that it is not in fact appendicitis.
At this point, I go to my parents house and have them drive me to go get the scan. (I wasn't sure how much driving I'd be allowed afterwards.) This stop, thankfully, was on the way. At this point Carrie is also home, so I call her to give her an update, and my dad and I run off to go get me scanned.
