Ugh, what hit me last night?
My head felt like someone hit it with a baseball bat, ran over it, and then dumped it into a garbage compactor. There were hangover headaches and then there was this. As my senses slowly pieced back together I could vaguely hear the beeping of machines, the strangely loud sound of footsteps on tile, and the shuffling of papers. Whatever I did last night got me winded in the hospital. Greaaaat.
As I slowly woke up, I couldn’t help but lick my dry lips. My mouth and throat felt like the Gobi Desert, which was always a fun feeling. What didn’t help was the fact that I couldn’t feel my hands or feet, instead all I could feel was a faint tingling where they would usually be. On top of that, something was digging into my back, like I was laying on my arm or something.
Well, that can’t be good. I thought to myself, groggily starting to worry about how strange my body felt. I swore I didn’t drink that much vodka, what the hell did I do?
As I groaned and started to try to force my gummed-up eyes open, I heard two very feminine gasps nearby and several loud footsteps racing up to my bed. Or at least, they sounded like footsteps, but there were too many at the same time compared to the number of voices for me to properly match them up. After a second of trying to open my eyes the hard way, I grunted before trying to wipe my eyes off with my hand.
WHAP
“OW FUCK JESUS CHRIST!” I heard a high-pitched girly voice yelp in pain as my vision went from the darkness of my eyelids to the swirling colors of pain. Somehow I just ended up punching myself in the eye instead of wiping it off like an idiot. Why did my voice sound so high? I knew my voice wasn’t the deepest but that is ridiculous.
I heard one of the two feminine voices wince before what I assumed to be her lighter footsteps raced off, most likely to find whatever nurse was nearby. While I continued to softly cuss up a storm I felt something push on a corner of the bed I was laying on, not close enough to be hit by my flailing arm but close enough I could hear her voice without her having to yell.
“Calm down sugarcube.” She uttered in the most soothing country voice I’ve heard in a while. Sounded almost like the lunch lady everyone loved who always told them to grab an extra veggie or fruit. “Ah’m here, just breathe an’ calm down.”
I couldn’t help but grimace. I wasn’t panicking, I was just in a lot of pain. While the cursing did stop, I did hear a faint whimpering coming from somewhere around me while the countrywoman sang a soothing tune. After a moment or two, I took a deep breath before forcing out words.
“I can’t see.” A girly voice was heard instead of my own, sounding like it came from a child a third my age. “It feels like something is holding my eyes shut.”
I heard the bed squeak as the countrywoman got off it before I heard the sound of her footsteps come to the other side of the bed. Some clinking came from right next to my head before I suddenly felt a wet, cold thing slap onto my face. After a second of surprise, I found my face toweled off before the wet towel was pulled off my face, finally allowing me to open my eyes to see....
“What the fuck?” I heard the girly voice squeak out, my eyes locking onto the orange-ish pony in front of me. She blinked back, her head jerking back at the swear, her mane bobbing at the movement, caged as it was by the Stenson on her head.
“For ah foal, you have quite the mouth.” The orange pony frowned at me, clearly being the source of the country-accented voice.
“Foal?” I squeaked out, before forcing myself up to look at myself and why I couldn’t feel my hands. Instead of seeing my nine and a half digits in front of me, I saw two light pink and fuzzy stubs that ended in hooves. My brain fell to a standstill while I could hear the machine keeping track of my vitals go crazy as what started with a dull concern turned into full-blown panic.
I went to scream, not something I would rationally do due to it being unmanly but instead all that came out was a dry cough from a throat that was beyond parched. As I began to wretch up a lung I felt a hand (hoof?) rub my back, before a glass of water hits my lips. Despite my rising panic I took a breath to quickly drink the water so my throat would stop feeling like a sandbox.
While I was hungrily gulping down the water I heard the door to the room open again, letting in two more sets of footsteps. One of the voices was a very soft feminine one, while the other was a kind but firm masculine one. As I came up for air I could see one was a butterscotch-colored winged horse (pegasus) with a kind smile while the other was a brown pony with a silver mane in doctor get up.
“What...where am I? What is going on?” I choked out, still coughing out a bit of water and what felt like dust. As I coughed I saw the butterscotch pony run to the other side of the bed while the doctor-pony calmly stepped over to the country-pony’s side.
“Hello, little one.” He said in the calming voice of someone used to dealing with disoriented patients. “You are in Ponyville General Hospital. We found you a bit banged up, but you’re safe now.”
I blinked at him, a little creeped out by how his mouth stretched into a large smile with too many teeth. I took a second to look at the other two ponies before looking back down at my strange pinkish coloration. After a second I used one of the stump-hooves to lift the blanket covering my body up to see what seemed like two wings on my side and a distinct lack of a certain piece of anatomy I had grown accustomed to after almost a quarter of a century of carrying it.
I looked back at the three ponies and blinked once more before unceremoniously passing out cold from shock.