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48 Diagnosis StarEntrance The excruciating and tantalizing succession of stages—­ my primary care physician; then the nurse and social worker at the hospital; finally the AIDS doctor opening the door—­ evokes, to me, the narrative layering that precedes and sets up a star entrance, when, say, Lana Turner first appears all dressed in white, pausing at the door frame, as a pure image, in The Postman Always Rings Twice: a lethal and irresistible object of desire. The star. I’m sorry, but shouldn’t I get top billing here? (I gotta get me a turban.) The truth, though, is that Lana standing at the threshold tells me that she comes out of nowhere; that she didn’t exist before I laid eyes on her; that it is also I who makes her a star and not just camera work or that famous je ne sais quoi known as“star quality.” As long as both our names appear above the title, I’ll be willing to share top billing with my doctor. How’s that? ...

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