"Doctor, there’s a portal to another dimension in my kitchen," Dennis told me.  I inwardly sighed and wondered what I had done to deserve this today.

"I see," I told him in my best ‘I’m a professional and used to these sorts of conversations’ voice.  "Did you report it?"

"Look, I know you think I’m crazy. Heck, I think I’m crazy.  That’s why I’m here so you can tell me if I am or not.  Who would I report it to?  They’d cart me off."  Dennis had a good point.

"We don’t use the word crazy in this field," I told him.  "I believe that you believe you have a portal to another dimension in your kitchen.  When did this portal manifest itself?"

"Three days ago.  I went in to grab a beer and there it was.  Just like you see on TV, a swirling vortex of pink and purple mist.  It smells weird too, like sulfur and chives," Dennis replied.

"Did you have any other trauma that day?  Lose a job or a loved one, that kind of thing?"  I felt bad for the textbook questions, but I had to decide if he was dangerous to other people or just himself.

Dennis looked at me for a moment or two, obviously trying to decide if he should confide in me or not.  I arrogantly started thinking we were making some progress when he pulled out a plastic bag and said, "Last night, something hopped out of it."

He handed the bag to me.

Inside was a toad/squid thing that was a sick pink/purple color.  Where eyes would be were spore-like protrusions that obviously picked up something other than light.

I turned it over and over, looking to see how he had assembled such a thing.  There were no obvious sutures.  It even felt real, like bones wrapped in flesh.  When I squeezed it, the mouth opened and I could see an orange tongue.

I handed it back and reached for my bottle of hand sanitizer.

"That’s disturbing," I said honestly. While I doubted it had hopped out of a portal in his kitchen, I wasn’t sure where someone would come up with such a… thing.

"At night, noises have been coming out of it too. At first I could barely hear them, but they seem to be getting closer." Dennis looked at me for answers. I didn’t have any.

"Mr. Spinks, I’d like you come back on Tuesday for a CAT scan and so we can discuss this in more detail.  Please see Donna on your way out to schedule a follow-up appointment.  Meanwhile, if you’re really getting scared, you need to report this to the authorities."  I dismissively broke eye contact and started writing some follow-up notes in my book.

He lingered for a moment or two obviously hoping I’d give him more, then resolutely stood up and went out to the desk.

***

On Tuesday, I waited for him for twenty minutes after his appointment was supposed to begin before I called in the next patient.