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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