Straight Man

basketball game,” I tell him.
    Suddenly there’s such a braying behind me that I half-believe a donkey has materialized to complete the joke. But it’s only Marjory, who returned while I was inside. It takes her a moment to composeherself, and when she does, she looks like a woman who’d willingly slit her own throat if someone would only loan her a knife. There are tears of sheer mortification in her eyes. “Oh, Jacob,” she says. “I’m
so
sorry.”
    Truth be told, I’m almost as ashamed as she is, and I can’t look at Jacob, who hasn’t moved. I should have looked at him, though, because then I wouldn’t be looking at Marjory, who has started braying all over again.

CHAPTER
25
    “Then where is it?” Phil Watson wants to know.
    We’re studying the hanging X ray, looking for the stone I’m convinced is there for the simple reason that it has to be. Phil has tried his best to cover his reaction upon seeing me, but without much success. He’s also seen no reason to order this X ray. He’s done it to humor me, I know. I’m the one who wanted the X ray, and I wanted it to prove him wrong, to prove that there is a stone. Something’s got me all backed up, and I’ve been both imagining and dreading this stone for a week. It’s become too real to give up without a fight. Phil Watson, who has the advantage of not being tormented by an imagination, and whose father is not William Henry Devereaux, Sr., stone former extraordinaire, has not jumped to my conclusions but rather retreated lamely into standard medical procedure. Before agreeing to X-ray me, he’s done a urinalysis and, despite my protest that he’s going about things ass backwards, given me a rectal examination that was remarkable, it seemed to me, for its thoroughness. He’s also done somethingcalled an IVP, results available tomorrow, and ordered blood work, results due by the end of the week. Meanwhile, if there’s a stone, it’s invisible, and Watson, to his credit, has not said I told you so, at least not in those words. If there had been a stone, he’s explained, there’d be blood in my urine. Calculi are not like beach pebbles, worn smooth by tidal motion. They’re sharp, jagged, ugly little monsters. He’s shown me photographs. No, the problem, I’m told, is that my prostate is enlarged, my bladder slightly distended, though neither quite enough to cause the extreme symptoms I’m claiming. And I do, Phil admits, look like hell. What the hell’s wrong with me? is what he’d like to know. At least we agree about the question.
    “Maybe it’s hiding somewhere?” I suggest, still unwilling to surrender the stone. “Maybe it’s behind something.”
    Phil makes a face to let me know that this isn’t much of an explanation. “Calculi don’t hide. One large enough to cause an obstruction will show up every time.”
    I study the X ray. “According to this I don’t even have a dick,” I point out, though this is not precisely true. It’s kind of an outline, a shadow, a ghost dick.
    “Look,” Phil explains again. “There are two kinds of calculi that are germane to the urinary tract. A kidney stone, here, could obstruct the ureter. They’re tiny and very painful. Could conceivably not show up on the X ray even. Problem is that kidney stones don’t restrict the flow of urine. What you’d have would be lower back pain. And you’d be peeing like a racehorse.”
    In fact, now that he says this, I do have a distant memory of my father doubled over in pain, getting my mother to massage his back. And he was always in the bathroom. “Not with that dick,” I point out. “I’ve seen racehorses.”
    Watson ignores this. “Now a bladder stone, up here, can shut you right down. Back the urine right up to your eyeballs. Unless they’re removed or broken up, the kidneys fail, then the patient fails. Trouble is, a stone large enough to do that is huge. It’d show up like a Susan B. Anthony dollar.”
    “So there’s no stone.”
    “Other scenarios make more sense. Three I can think of.” He shuts off the screen with an air of finality. I and my ghost dick disappear in abeat. “Enlarged prostate, as I said. You’re the right age, unfortunately. Maybe a little young, but it happens.”
    “What do we do about that?”
    “Long term? Possible removal of prostate gland. Short term? Catheterization to relieve the pressure may be warranted. Let’s wait for the results of the IVP on that though.”
    I try not to wince.