Appledashery

by Just Essay

Pegasus Health 502

“Textbooks, as I’m sure, still call it Pegasopalitine Atrophy. I’ve always called it dayum annoying. Supposedly it’s genetic, which means the only reason you get it is because life stinks and you’re bound to be a pegasus born with it. My dad had it, and so did his dad before him. My great grandfather as well. Modern medicine has done wonders to the pony body, which means my dad was able to last long enough to--well, y’know--have me through my mom. He lived until halfway through my flight school years… but I use the word ‘lived’ in relative term. He was in the hospital for most of my teenage years, stuck to a bed, barely able to move.

“I really don’t want to go into a lot of detail about what my dad went through. He was the coolest stallion in the world. He was strong, handsome, dashing--and I wish to remember him like that. He took care of me and gave me all the attention that a single parent could… much less a parent with the withering strength of a diseased invalid. The day he died was something that I saw coming from a continent away, but it didn’t crush my heart any less. My life kind of hit the pits after that. I bailed out of flight camp. Bummed my way across Equestria. Crashed at one friend’s cloud home or another. Got into some… less than awesome company…

“Anyways, my bad. I did say that I wouldn’t ramble about my dad and all the stupidness that followed his death. All you need to know is the whole… y’know… Pegasopalitine Atrophy crap. I’ve seen over a dozen different doctors about it throughout the years, and they all explain it in a different way to me. Apparently it only hits one in every three hundred pegasi. My family’s case is a pretty severe one. Level… uh… three, I believe. What it means is that I start losing muscle control in my legs. And once full paralysis sets in, there’s a second stage where my immune system takes a nosedive, and then I’m vulnerable to… y’know… all the nasty-wasties that want to infect the body.

“I started showing symptoms of Pegasopalitine Atrophy at age… eleven, I think? It was after I got my cutie mark, which kind of put a damper on things. But not really. I mean, my dad and I both figured I would get the short end of fate’s stick at some point. So, I tried not to be too shocked when it started happening to me. Little things, at first, y’know. Like feeling a tingling sensation constantly in my legs whenever I moved around, or suddenly not being able to grip a toothbrush like I used to in the crook of my hoof.

“Thing is, I’ve always been an athlete. Like even more so than my dad and my dad’s dad. You could ask anypony who knows me; I’m in peak physical condition. Fastest pony in Equestria for a reason. Some physicians tell me that the reason the Atrophy hasn’t gotten to me nearly as bad as my dad is because I’ve always been exercising my limbs, giving the disease--like--more muscle to wear away or something.

“But it goes deeper than that, really. I’ve kind of always had this… pathetic Rainbow family death disease crap hovering over my head. And instead of being freaked out by it, I figured I’d challenge that nastiness head on. So, knowing that the wings are the least affected part of a pegasus afflicted with the disease, I put all of my exercise into pushing my flight skills to the limit. It wasn’t that hard to do, really. I mean… heh… I was flying before I learned to walk. Very few ponies could master flight as young as I did. I’m not just boasting--it’s the honest-to-Celestia truth. For a while there, my dad was certain the curse had skipped a generation. Later, we learned differently, of course, but it was an uplifting thing for a long while.

“Well, all of that wing-work didn’t go unrewarded. By age ten, I could pull off the sonic rainboom. In my teenage years, I was breaking flight school records… mmm… until I-I dropped out of flight school completely, that is. Ahem. And nowadays, not only can I pull off amazing flight moves in my sleep, but I’ve found that my wings are super useful in any situation… but most especially when the Atrophy hits me full force.

“I mean, I can’t stress this enough; I use my wings for everything. I find hovering to be a heck of a lot more comfortable than walking… or even standing. It’s like my life has no gravity, y’know? Wind or no wind, low or high air pressure--it makes no difference. I’m set for life so long as I have plenty of feathers to flutter with.

“So, that said, if the Atrophy took just my legs away… I think I could live with it. I know that sounds like a horribly lame thing to say… eheheheh… see what I did there? Ahem. But the truth is, I’ve never really been much for legwork anyways. Flying is my life. I live, sleep, and dream in the air. I’ve always been comfortable with it, and I always will be. A lot of times, when I’m around my friends, they wonder why I’m hovering all the time. It just so happens to be how I like to get around. But there’s more truth to that. If I stood around my friends long enough, I’d collapse from exhaustion. Keeping myself off the ground with my wings sort of eliminates that risk.

“But we both know that it goes beyond dead legs, don’t we? Keeping aloft by wings and feathers isn’t gonna save me from losing my immune system once the Atrophy hits me full-force. Sure, at the rate at which I’m fighting this crud, I’ll likely outlive my dad. But that isn’t saying much. And lately, it’s just been getting… getting so annoying bad. Like, there are days when I can’t even make my bed, or open a door without using my mouth, or pick up the simplest of small things.

“I’ve been taking prescription medicine that… like… staves off the effects of it. But each time I go in for these pills, the nurses and doctors are constantly giving me the evil eye, wagging their hooves at me n’crud. ‘You’re going to kill yourself at this rate!’ and all that nonsense. Only… nnngh... it isn’t nonsense. They want what’s best for me, and I know that. It’s just that I don’t like the option that they’re giving me.

“There’s an operation, you see. A really delicate, expensive, crazy experimental operation. A bunch of unicorns in Canterlot thought it up, and--as you probably guessed--it involves unicorn magic to perform. It doesn’t exactly eliminate the Atrophy. I mean, I’d still have the crud in my system, and only time and observation would tell if the procedure does anything to preserve my nervous system.

“But, since Level Three Pegasopalitine Atrophy doesn’t affect a pegasus’ wings--only her legs--it’s possible for the unicorns to use magic and… like… transfer the energy from the wings into the legs. It involves a bunch of mumbo jumbo about ‘leylines’ and ‘equine essence transference’ and other stuff. But, basically, it means all of the weakness that was in my legs would be… well… balanced with my wings.

“This is supposed to be a good thing. And, in a lot of ways, it totally is. It means that the unicorns would save my legs from turning to strips of useless meat. And, more importantly, it means that my immune system would be saved from diving off the proverbial cliff.

“But… at a really sucky cost. My wings are everything, Zecora. They’re… like… what define me. They’re what got me my cutie mark, and they’re what made me believe in myself when my dad was wasting away and… and… well… nnnng, let’s say that I’d rather be dead than give up the awesomeness in my wings. It doesn’t help that the Canterlot doctors are thinking of altering the procedure so that they magically transfer all of the strength of the wings into the legs. That way, the sickness is contained completely in the wings alone. So, what happens to the appendages next? You guessed it. ‘Snip snip.’ Or, in my case, ‘crkkkkk-kkkk!’ That was me impersonating a bone-saw, in case you couldn’t tell.

“So… uh… yeah, no. I’m not about to give up my wings just to live my life like a earth pony with only half her strength. That is the mother of all suck. All my life, I’ve never surrendered to a challenge. I don’t care how bad or dangerous or life-threatening this disease is. There’s gotta be another way out. There’s gotta be a way to win against this thing.

“And if there’s anything I’m heck-bent on in this life, it’s winning…”

Comments

[MellowMabari]

Aw...

I figured it was something along those lines. Rainbow wouldn't be so against a life saving operation unless it threatened her wings. The question now is, how many heartstrings are you going to snip with Zecora's answer?

Until tomorrow...

[Tchernobog]

4017162 Probably most of them will be snipped....

[Lilith Evanson]

When Fimfiction went down I raged. Mostly because I had waited all day for this chapter. The wait was worth it! I cried and I just...wow. It's worse than I imagined. Now what I'm scared for is what Zecora will say. Oh...I don't think it's going to go well.

[Lightning Bearer]

Had to wait two goddamn days for these delicious answers, thanks to the Fimpocalypse.

Poor Rainbow...

[zaponator]

Explanations! Yay!
...but also awwww.

[HyperMonica]

That last sentence made me so proud, Dashie. YOU'RE GONNA FREAKIN WIN. If you don't.... Well....

[YoshiFawful64]

We get answers, at long last
Of her symptoms present and past
Can Zecora heal our pegasus fast?
Or will Rainbow be aghast?

[Dash32]

Yup. I knew shit would hit the fan sooner or later

[Metal Aura]

I know that sounds like a horribly lame thing to say

At least RD still has her wits about her.
This chapter sated my desires for exposition.

[arancaytar]

That way, the sickness is contained completely in the wings alone. So, what happens to the appendages next? You guessed it. ‘Snip snip.’ Or, in my case, ‘crkkkkk-kkkk!’

I knew it

“And if there’s anything I’m heck-bent on in this life, it’s winning…”

The life and times of an occasionally winning pony.

[Boop-Happy Lass]

6901431
Shit already hit the fan long ago.