“My name is Pinkie Pie, Hello!” Pinkie sang as she skipped through town.
“And I am here to say, How ya doing?”
“I’m going to make you smile and I will brighten up your dayaaay”
Pinkie stopped and looked where the voice came from. It was her good friend. “Hey Twi. How are you?”
“Well, I’m good, but Spike is still tired.” Twilight looked behind her to the young dragon sleeping on her back. “Spike, wake up.”
“No, 5 more minutes…”
Twilight sighed, “So where are off to today?”
Pinkie’s smile grew, “It’s Octavia’s birthday today, and her roommate ordered a cello cake for her.”
“Well that was nice of her.”
“Yeah. Wanna see the cake?!”
Pinkie smiled. She stood on her hind legs and opened the box with the front two. Inside was a small, cake cello with a bow made of cake across the strings. “Doesn’t it look delicious? It’s a chocolate cake with a vanilla icing. Vinyl told me it was her favorite. Oh, are you going to her party tonight?”
“I have to check my schedule, but I think I could make it.”
“That’s great.” Pinkie closed the box, “I’ve got to get going, I’ll see you tonight at the…” Pinkie’s cough started up again and fell back onto her front hooves.
Twilight caught the cake with magic as Pinkie dropped it, “Pinkie, are you ok?”
Pinkie stopped coughing and looked back up at her friend. “Huh?”
“I asked if you were feeling ok.”
“Oh, yes. I’m, umm, okey-dokey-lokey!” Pinkie tried her hardest to put on a smile. However, she wasn’t good with fake smiles and Twilight knew that. She knew that Pinkie was worried.
“Yes. Would I say I was fine if I wasn’t?” Twilight was about to answer when Pinkie grabbed the cake and started to walk away, “I got to get going, running late.”
“Oh, ok then.” Twilight watched Pinkie skip around the corner. “Spike, what’s next on the list?
Spike rubbed his eyes and read the checklist, “We need to mail a book back to Canterlot.”
Pinkie watched as Twilight walked toward the post office. Pinkie knew she wasn’t feeling ok. In fact, she had a feeling that the doctor was going to tell her that it was something worse than just cough. But she didn’t think Twilight needed to worry about her. Sure, it would make a great letter of friendship to the princess, but it wasn’t her friends’ problem. It was her’s. She wanted her friends to have fun with her because they were having fun, not to make her feel better. When Twilight was out of sight, Pinkie turned around and walked to Vinyl Scratch’s.
Sometime later, Pinkie was sitting in the doctor’s office. The doctor was looking over her charts and Pinkie found it to be booooor-ing. She found herself studying the periodic table on the wall. She was surprised to find that, despite having every element, the elements of harmony was not of the chart. “Excuse me. I don’t see laughter on the table over there. Where is it?”
The doctor looked at the periodic table then back at Pinkie, “Did you even hear a word I said?” Pinkie stares at him and he sighs. “I said you have tuberculosis, Ms. Pie.”
“Tuberculosis, and a very odd case of it, too.”
“Doesn’t it spread, like, in the air or by touching, ‘cause I live with a family and…”
The doctor cut her off, “Normally yes, but yours isn’t. I don’t know how, but your amount of partying and the amount of sugar you consume has sent your tuberculosis into an overdrive like state.”
“Is that bad?”
“Well, yes and no. You see, you won’t be able to spread it to other ponies, so that’s the good news. The bad news is that there’s a higher chance of it claiming your life.”
“How high?” Pinkie knew she wasn’t going to like the answer, but she had to ask.
“Pinkie, there’s an 80% chance of you dying in 8 months. Now, there’s a slim chance that treatment could increase you’re survival rate. But it would only boost it to about 40%. It’s just a few pills a day for 6 or 7 months, depending on how well your body responds to it. Do you understand what I just said to you?”
“Well, sorta.” Pinkie scratched her mane. “I thought I heard of this ‘tuba-culosis’ before, and it didn’t sound anything like this. It spreads quickly in the air, and only had 50% death rate not the 80%…”
The doctor cut her off again, “Nonononono, see, the same disease affects different species differently. Dragons have a higher chance of spreading it the other dragons, while griffons have a better response to treatment. Normal ponies have a mortality rate of about 35%-45%, however, your sweet intake has increased it to 80%.” Pinkie stated to rub her hooves on her temples. “While you’re here, can we test you for diabetes?”
“All ready checked, I can’t get it.” Pinkie looked back up at the doctor. “You said it can’t spread, right?” The doctor nodded. “Then you can PLEASE not tell any other pony? I don’t want them pretending to be happy around me to make me feel better for the next few months.”
“Well, if you want, doctor-patient-confidentiality says I can’t tell anypony. But I wouldn’t recommend it, having ponies to support you could make treatment an easier transition if they know and understand.”
“Tell nopony. I don’t want them to worry about me so I can make them laugh and smile without them feeling obligated to do so.”
The doctor sighed then mumbled, “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” He then toke out a pad of paper and began writing, “Get these filled immediately, and I will see you back in a month.”
“Ok doc, thanks…” Pinkie grabbed the prescriptions from the doctor and started to walk out.
“Pinkie,” She stopped at the door. “Try to tell at least one pony you can trust about this…” Pinkie looked at him for a moment, then nodded and walked out to the hallway.
As she walked out of the hospital, only one thing was on her mind. Who is a pony I can trust to keep this big of a secret?