I limped into the reception area with a hot metal spear sticking out my back side.
“I’m here to pick up my ex-rays and speak with Dr. K’s nurse, Sarah,” I said.
“You’ll have to call her. Here’s her direct line,” the receptionist said.
“I’m in a lot of pain…” I offered.
“Just call her.”
“Isn’t that her right over there?” I pointed.
“She’s probably busy.”
“I was just here yesterday and forgot to get my pain pill prescription. Could you ask her to come out for a second?”
“You’ll have to call her.”
Hey Sarah!” I yelled.
On the phone,” she said.
“Fine.”
I stepped a few feet away from the receptionist’s desk. Sarah’s voicemail told me I could leave a message, but the fastest way to hear back from her was to use The Portal.
Beep–“Hi Sarah. This is Kim, Dr. K’s patient. I saw him yesterday and forgot to get my pain med prescription from you. I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in weeks…PT is NOT helping and (sobbing)…. I can’t sleep…I can’t function (blowing nose) and I really need”—Beep.
“The CD of your ex-ray is ready,” the receptionist chirped in my direction.
“I got Sarah’s voicemail. It said to use The Portal,” I challenged her.
“Oh that’s right. They want everything to go through the portal now,” she smiled.
“I’m afraid of portals,” I stated.
“Me too!” she giggled.
“I have to create an account, think up a password, and log in. It’s too much!” I sobbed.
“It’s not that bad. I’ll send you an invitation.”
“To what?”
“To join the portal. It will assign you a temporary password,” she said.
“Uh huh.”
“You can change it later,” she smiled.
“Great.”

I sat in the lobby and tried to use the portal. I got to the part where I had to think of a suitable password. I liked PainInMyA#&! but the system informed me it wasn’t strong enough.
I jumped back to the phone…please leave a message…Beep: “Hi Sarah. If that’s how you spell it. Listen, I left you a voice mail earlier that you probably won’t get. Per your suggestion, I tried to use the portal of pain. I have unbearable sciatica and I need pain meds or else I’m likely to rob a pharmacy! Call me. I don’t have a portal.”
That night I found hydrocodone from 2012 in my medicine cabinet. I slept well and woke up in a rational state of mind. Sarah called me at 8 am. She was apologetic and phoned in a prescription within minutes.
“Cool Sarah. I’ll pick that up later, right after my Pilates class,” I said.
I was singing Fight Song out the open sunroof when I swept through the CVS drive-through for my meds. I used the portal to order an MRI and connect with Sarah about the pros and cons of steroid injections. I am still undecided about injections, but this much I know: Sleeping well is the best antidote to an irrational fear of portals.