NOW
I lay there on my back with spasming wings and legs splayed, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Ruminating on the shitshow that brought me here and decided to write my memoir.
MANY MANY MONTHS AGO
I walked up to the medical center just off campus, hooves clopping on grey concrete. The buildings here were short by L.A. standards, only a few stories tall. Helping Hoof gave me a referral after I started peeing blood. I still don’t quite know what the tests showed, probably some sort of protein marker for something weird, undoubtedly nothing too major.
The medical plaza was three whitish buildings around cul de sac right next to Ronald Reagan Hospital. The closer I got, the more nervous I got, outside of a visiting a friend I’ve never been in a hospital. The one I needed was in back, a simple crosswalk let me not have to walk the whole circle.
Inside was more white on the floors and ceiling and walls. There were three paths upon entering the automated doors, a help desk with two people manning it next to a seating area of blue upholstered wooden chairs. The path to the right led down a long narrow hallway while the left led to elevators and the turned away. The middle was wide enough to drive two cars through, at the end was a sign labeled parking. I knew the suite I was looking for was 140 and decided to find it myself.
The right path had almost nothing, some offices for workers on the left side and benches in front of floor to ceiling windows. The only room for patients was labeled “hematology and oncology infusion center” with some of the most dour looking people I had ever seen. But it was listed suite 150 and nothing else seemed important so I headed back to the entrance.
Next I tried straight, there was a gift shop with food on the right along with the lab, and on the right was what I needed, “Clark Urology Center”. Inside was nothing like I expected tho, the chairs were overstuffed and I could have curled up comfortably in one, it was all soft colors and felt pretty homey. It could seat at least thirty but was empty except for a few people.
I made my way up to the reception counter and encountered a very common problem for ponies living on Earth, having to stand just to be seen over those stupid counters. Thankfully they had a shorter counter around the side, it was made for humans to sit but worked perfectly for ponies. I would recount that conversation but it was really boring so I don't quite remember it, just filling out paperwork, checking insurance and the referral, a medical history, then sitting in a really comfy chair to wait for my name to be called. I should have brought a book.
It only took a few minutes for a nurse to come out and get me. We went in back, she took my weight, height, temperature, blood pressure then took me back to room number three. It was a standard patient room, a sink, several labeled drawers, a computer on a moving stalk against one wall by the patient seat covered in white paper that could be laid back. Was a simple matter to jump onto it, no worse than the beds at school.
It was another short wait and a bull of a man entered in a doctor’s jacket. “Hello.” He said in a deep voice and some sort of accent. “My name is Artem Ivanov and I am a urologist here.” He was over six and a half feet tall and bulky and bald, reaching out a hand to shake my hoof, it was a surprisingly soft grip. “There’s nothing to worry about, we just need to run some tests to rule a few things out like kidney stones.”
“Ok.” I said, happy to be right about it not being serious. “What kind of tests?”
“Just an x-ray, a CT, and an MRI. They should be done either this week or next. My assistant Veronica will schedule them for you.” He got to work typing on a computer while I sat on the table. “And we will schedule a return visit for you in two weeks.
“Those sound pretty major.” Even I heard my voice crack on that one. But wouldn’t an x-ray alone be enough?
Doctor Ivanov blinked a few times like he debated how much he wanted to say. “There are a few other options but I don’t like going over some of those unless now know for certain.” His voice was firm like it could never break, but soft enough to give a comforting hug.
“I need to know.” I quivered and shook. Only a few months before learning one of my best friends had leukemia and was hospitalized for it. It couldn’t be worse than that, I could handle it.
“OK. Some sort of infection that slipped by the initial tests. Prostate or kidney damage. A birth defect or maybe something genetic as those can appear out of nowhere. An injury of some sort that you don’t remember getting. Cancer, but those are very rare in somepony your age. Over-exercising. There is no way to know without these tests.”
“Thank you. Those don’t seem so bad.” I breathed a sigh of relief, in just a few weeks things would be better with me none the worse for wear.
“Exactly.” He gave a sure nod. “Do you have any other questions for me?”
“How many non-humans do you treat?” I asked out of curiosity, ponies were still relatively rare around here.
“Maybe two or three, I get most of them.” He answered, standing to leave. “I keep abreast of the studies. Do not worry, you are in good hands.” He pat my shoulder, it was oddly comforting.
I wish I had known it was cancer at the time, I could have prepared better.