I set out on my morning walk with the dog – the same routine as always (what other kind of routine is there?) – pee on the front lawn by the road (the dog, not me), first by the granite boulder on the east side of the lot, then by the pole that supports the basketball hoop on the west side of the lot.  Up went the hind leg, then out came a stream of deep yellow fluid.  The dog is a standard poodle, the runt of the litter and smaller than you’d expect for a standard poodle.  I call him a substandard.  When we brought him home last year, the kids named him Brutus.  In fact it was James who named him.  Jessica was barely talking then.  The most she could manage was a slurred “Bus, Bus.”

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You know how the song goes:  “When you’re in love with a beautiful woman, it’s hard….”  That’s how I’ve always felt with Suzanne.  I try to hide it, but there are times when my insecurities emerge low in my viscera and refuse to go away.  We’ll be at a dinner party and I’ll glance across the table at her and catch her talking with another man.  She’ll be bright and animated and wholly engaged.  She’ll be that sparkling jewel I fell in love with, but she’ll be that sparkling jewel with everyone she meets.  When my insecurities are at their worst, I wonder to myself:  what if she meets another man who wants to hoard that jewel for himself as much as I do?  I tell myself that, as a matter of prudence, I should assume all men are as ill-intentioned as me.

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They give me a green capsule and tell me it contains a radioactive isotope.  I swallow it and wait in the reception area until they call my name and lead me to a special room.  They leave me alone to put on a gown.  I don’t understand the concern for privacy given a) the gown has a single tie in the back and the rest hangs open and gives the world a clear view of my ass and b) they’ll be using a machine that can see through bone so a few articles of clothing aren’t going to make a difference.  Doesn’t matter to me though.  I’m not much of one to get all bashful about things.  They lie me down on a table beneath a big scanner.  A technician explains that the isotope binds itself in a special way to uric acid so the images of my kidney will show up bright green.  They do a couple passes with me lying on my back then a couple more with me lying on my stomach.  When they’re done they tell me the doctor will be in touch.  After I get dressed I check my watch and see it’s nearly rush hour.  No point going back to work so I ride a bus to the subway station.

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