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"Have you seen a doctor?"

"It's nothing. Just tired."

He does not move. His expression remains neutral, but something in his eyes sharpens.

"My wife ignored abdominal pain for two weeks, dismissing it as stress." He pauses. "Appendicitis. She ended up having emergency surgery."

The words land heavier than he probably intends.

"I'm not suggesting anything specific," he continues. "But persistent symptoms warrant attention. That's basic risk assessment."

He walks away before I can respond.

I stare at my computer screen without seeing it. The cursor blinks. My stomach still feels unstable from yesterday.

I pull up my phone and scroll to my contacts. Dr. Nevins' office. I tap the number before I can talk myself out of it.

The exam roomsmells like rubbing alcohol and latex gloves. I sit on the paper-covered table, the crinkling sound loud every time I shift my weight. The walls are pale blue. Calming, probably by design. A poster about hand washing hangs next to the door.

Dr. Nevins enters with her tablet, scrolling through something before looking up at me.

"So, looks like we have an expedited appointment. Tell me what's going on?"

"Is there a way to see if my appendix might rupture? I've been having cramps, and my boss said his wife?—"

She cuts me off, tapping notes into the screen. "How long has this been going on?"

"Maybe two weeks. It started mild, but it's gotten more persistent."

"Describe the abdominal discomfort. Sharp? Dull? Cramping?"

"Cramping, mostly. Low." I gesture vaguely toward my pelvis. "Sometimes it feels like pulling."

"Any changes in appetite?"

"I switched from coffee to tea," I say with a laugh, trying to make a joke. It falls on deaf ears.

Her eyebrows lift slightly. She types something else.

"Bowel movements normal?"

"Yes."

"Urination?"

"More frequent, actually, because I am drinking more water."

"Any fever? Chills?"

"No."

She sets the tablet on the counter and pulls her stethoscope from around her neck. The metal is cold against my back as she listens.

"Deep breath."

I breathe.

"Again."