“Oh boy, have I been waiting for this…” I rubbed my hooves together as I let out a deep sigh of anticipation. Ah, being able to speak normally felt like a luxury now.
I looked at the tray in front of me. Five days of applesauce, five days of a frozen mouth, all leading up to this— I could finally eat without that anaesthesia spell. I could speak and eat something without those freakin’ sores; they’d finally gone away. To say we were relieved would be an understatement— especially Mom. The past few days had been particularly rough on her. Using the spell three times a day took a serious toll on her.
I didn’t know why the doctors waited so long before they let me try something more ‘substantial,’ as Gramma had put it. Every time I ate, I’d told High Flyer my stomach didn’t hurt as much. When he kept asking me, “‘As much’?” after like, the hundredth time I’d told him, I finally figured it out. Yesterday at lunch I told him my stomach didn’t hurt at all, and he gave me a nice smile. When I told him the same thing last night after dinner, he finally gave me the regular breakfast menu to pick something solid to try this morning.
I… may or may not have lied about my stomach, but I wanted something other than applesauce. That’s how this tray of scrambled eggs ended up on my table. Finally, something with some kind of substance. Oh— ‘substantial.’ Duh.
Heaven. Bland heaven. I had to resist scarfing it down— Mom helped with that, since she didn’t have to focus on a spell. No pain, nothing preventing me from enjoying it, no matter how much it lacked actual taste. And it wasn’t asparagus— that was a plus. I had a feeling that would be coming for lunch, though.
I turned out to be right. I guess they wanted me to try a variety of foods to make sure everything was okay. Just a few stalks— they didn’t want me having too much at one time. My stomach didn’t hurt that much, so it seemed like everything was okay, except for one thing…
I still wasn’t going to the bathroom.
I had asked for some plain pasta to try for dinner. After I finished, my stomach didn’t feel right. I didn’t eat that much of it, but obviously it was enough for me to bring it back up a half-hour later, along with the asparagus from lunch.
When my stomach finally settled, Mom, Gramma, and Tess sat around my bed as High Flyer discussed the next course of action.
“Well, it looks like the solids aren’t sitting well with you, buddy. You were going to the rooms well enough when you were just eating applesauce, right?”
“Well, kind of,” I answered. “It was just… you know.”
“Right. Not surprising— applesauce is pretty close to liquid. There must be some other kind of blockage, but not enough that it’s blocking you up completely. We ought to do another CT scan,” High Flyer told us. “Maybe the techs missed something. It’s too late to do one now, but I’ll see if we can get you in early tomorrow morning. Looks like you’re going back to applesauce for now. Sorry.”
I groaned, putting my head in my hooves. “Shoot. I thought I was doing better, too.” At that moment, something occurred to me, much to my horror. I turned to High Flyer and asked, “You’re not gonna put another one of those tubes up my nose, are you?”
He grimaced at the question. “Well, I won’t lie, we might have to. You’re still on your liquid nutrients, and you’ve basically thrown up everything solid that you’ve eaten so far. If you stick to liquids for now, we’ll wait to make that judgement until after we get the scan results, unless something urgent happens.”
I let out a sigh. “Alright. At least I’ve got a chance.”
High Flyer tapped my fetlock. “That’s the best way to look at it. The Radiology office closes pretty soon, so let me go call them and try to get you an early slot for tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know in a few minutes.” With that, he walked out the door.
Mom came up beside me and rested her hoof on top of my bare head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Everything seemed to be going your way, too…” She sighed. “For a time. Well, look at it this way: at least those annoying mouth sores are gone. As long as they don’t put you on any more chemo, it should stay that way.”
I shrugged. “Good point. That means I can still talk, so I won’t be silent company when you and Starry are here,” I said, looking at Tess.
“Eh, it wouldn’t have mattered. I kinda like charades,” Tess said with a small chuckle. I rolled my eyes.
High Flyer poked his head back in and said, “I’ve got you at nine tomorrow morning, buddy. You’d normally have to fast, but you shouldn’t be eating anyway, so it’s not really an issue. Try not to drink too much when you wake up, though, okay? You can’t drink for six hours beforehoof, so as long as you aren’t awake until three in the morning, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’ll try to avoid that,” I answered with a smirk.
Mom gave me a nudge on my shoulder, then turned to High Flyer. “He won’t be.”
“Okay hon, gotta stay as still as ya can now. F’they want as accurate a scan as possible, you gotta do your part.”
“Yep.”
The scans were nothing new, but every now and then I would find myself squirming a bit. It might’ve been my fault if something hadn’t shown up on a scan before.
I closed my eyes and let the machine do its work. Fortunately, I had enough patience for a fifteen-minute scan. Those hour-long MRIs are torture.
As the tech helped me off the table, High Flyer came back with a wheelchair. He turned to the tech and asked her, “If you could get those developed and up to the doctors ASAP, I’d appreciate it.”
The tech smiled and answered, “I’ll do my best, sugar.”
“Thanks, hot stuff,” High Flyer chuckled.
I cocked a brow at the exchange. Well, I guess everypony needs to find some way to stay entertained.