> Three Steps Down > by Rusty Bascule > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Three steps... He was not in a happy mood. His mind wandering to that fateful afternoon when his life changed unexpectedly. Three fucking steps. And not for the better. It should have been a great and exciting time for him: He had only just graduated a few months ago and he should be enjoying the summer and probably attending job interviews for his first new job after graduating but instead, he was sitting in a recliner in his parents living room, staring out into the small garden. I hate being crippled. It was in the early evening three weeks ago when the incident occurred. The hallway light had gone out and he had thought that he would be a helpful son and replace the lightbulb for his parents. No big deal. He had located the small stepladder and had moved it into position and he had removed the old lightbulb before searching for a suitable replacement. Somehow, before he had returned to the stepladder, a small strip of plastic had become stuck to the bottom of his shoe and he had not noticed. He replaced the lightbulb and as he descended, on the third step from the bottom, his foot flew out from under him and he fell in a very undignified heap on the floor. I wish I had known earlier... Maybe it would have been different. As he had laid on the floor, he was acutely aware of an intense pain in his lower back. So he had rested a few seconds before gingerly picking himself off the floor. The pain didn't get much better but at least he was standing. The light switch was near where he was standing so he switched the light on. He remembered thinking "At least that now works," before he slowly went to the bathroom to locate some ibuprofen. And it was so embarrassing. On that evening, he had watched some television before retiring to bed early, the pain never completely going away but it manifested itself as a dull throb, distracting himself from the canned entertainment. He performed his usual nightly ablutions before getting into bed and after a long while, eventually drifted off into a dreamless sleep. He awoke to a bright sunny morning, his back pain from the previous evening had gone away so he had cast the sheets off from himself before totally failing to get out of bed: To his horror, he discovered that he was paralysed from the waist down and the smell that had suddenly afflicted him, he had soiled himself during the night. *sigh* My life sucks. His mother was making pancakes when she heard him cry out for help. To him, the rest of the morning was a blur with the ambulance arriving at some point afterwards and the two burly paramedics had strapped him into a stiff stretcher before carrying him out to the ambulance. A noisy blur later, he was at the hospital where a doctor was talking to him and his mom. Soon he was in a chilly room with the MRI machine and they had injected him with something which made him quite nauseous. "Breath deeply," the technicians had suggested as he was moved into the bowels of the claustrophobic and noisy machine, thankful that he had accepted wearing the earplugs. Another blur and he was in back in triage but this time, there was a surgeon who was recommending immediate surgery. Why? Soon, he was being transported to an operating theatre which was a hive of activity as nurses were preparing the room and the anesthesiologist was asking him a few questions. He didn't remember much as during the chaos, another line was put onto his other arm for the drugs and he vaguely remembers the oxygen mask before he had lost consciousness. For the second time that day, he regained consciousness but the second time was more laboured and uncooperative: He ached all over; his throat was painfully sore; he felt dehydrated and his lower back felt exceedingly sore... No doubt where they had operated. He was no dunce and guessed that his sore throat was from where they had "intubated" him. He tried wriggling his toes and they moved - well, the big toes moved but he guessed that he was probably still a bit drugged after the surgery. If only it had been a total success. By the surgeon's reckoning, the operation was a success as he had regained some sensation... but not all. By his reckoning, he had only regained something around 25% to 40% of his sensation and control. During the following week, he discovered that he could barely walk with a walking frame. The doctors and nurses were very happy but he was less excited because the limited mobility wasn't the worst part of his affliction: The incontinence was not solved by the surgery. > Chapter 1 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- thud Owww! I hurt... again? The world was a sea of pain, vision blurred as consciousness slipped away. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic as consciousness reluctantly returned. His body felt sore and he had a headache. *groan* "I need an aspirin..." he muttered quietly, his vision failing to gain focus. "I'm glad you're back with us. I shall fetch your aspirin and the doctor," he heard a female say. He assumed that it was a nurse. What he could not recall was why he was in a hospital because, obviously, he was in such a place since the smell and availability of doctors. He let his eyes rest. A few minutes later, he heard a new voice. "Good morning! You had quite a bump there this morning but you'd be fine. I'm Doctor Bones and your name is...?" His eyes still felt heavy so he let them rest a bit more. "Hi, my name is..." He couldn't remember. His eyes shot open in shock. "I can't remember! Wha...?" To the side of his bed was the doctor and the nurse, both wearing appropriate uniform but there was something that startled him: Both the doctor and the nurse appeared to be small horses. He looked down at his hands but only seeing hooves before being confused about what did he expect to see. He couldn't remember what he had expected to see but what he saw wasn't what he had expected. He looked back at the doctor, asking "What am I?" before passing out. > Chapter 2 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- He groaned as he shut off the obnoxious sound of the alarm. That was a weird dream... Must be the new drugs. Haven't dreamt like that in ages. Still feeling like his head was full of cotton wool, he slowly moved the walker into place and carefully helped himself out of bed and slowly shuffled to the bathroom. Since the spine injury and subsequent surgery, he had not been sleeping well so the nurse practitioner had tried prescribing him different drugs to see what would help him sleep. The pain from the surgery had faded in the month since the surgery but the phantom pains and sensations from the severed nerves did their best at keeping him from a good night's sleep. Since the incident, his morning routine had changed dramatically. Where he used to quickly dive into the shower to wake up, then getting quickly dressed before racing out the front door, his new routine was a bit more sedate, starting with a slow shuffle which took minutes before getting to the bathroom. Peeling off the adult diaper before getting into the shower stall was another new part of the routine as he was still had not regained control of his bowel nor bladder. Carefully cleaning himself in the shower, slowly, was another change. He was thankful that his dad had the time to fit a handrail in the shower stall which he could hold on while cleaning himself. Being able to clean himself was a minor victory. What was I dreaming? It was odd, whatever it was. He let the warm water from the shower head massage the back of his head. It was one of the few luxuries in his life, these days. By the time he had extracted himself from the shower and dried off, his parents had already left for their workplaces, leaving him alone in the house. Instead of wearing underwear, he wore a new adult diaper; not feeling like getting dressed up, he wore only a T-shirt and sweat pants in addition to the diaper. It was going to be another slow day and he did not feel like watching TV all day, again. Perhaps a book would be better. His eyes wandered over his collection of books and eventually settled upon something to read. "To Ride Pegasus" it is, then. I haven't read that book in ages. > Chapter 3 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- He awoke to the sound of the curtains being drawn and the subsequent sunlight flooding the room. "Good morning, I'm glad you could rejoin us. I am nurse Rhyme. Please just relax and I shall fetch for you something for breakfast and I'll check if your doctor is available." The nurse then left the room leaving him to his thoughts. He remembered yesterday, not being able to remember who he was before he passed out. This morning, seeing the grey with red hair equine in blue scrubs nurse didn't shock him as much as it did, yesterday. He looked at his own hooves and the blue-ish fur that he appeared to have: The color seemed wrong but he could not remember why it would be wrong. He looked around the room and it definitely said "hospital" to him, although he could not recall ever having been in a hospital before. His only memories that he could recall was that short bit of consciousness from the day before. "A light breakfast of yoghurt and apple slices," Nurse Rhyme announced. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not notice her reenter the room and set down the tray. "Doctor Horse will be seeing you in about an hour." Nurse Rhyme fussed around the room for a bit before leaving while he inspected his breakfast. There was an ordinary spoon on the tray with his breakfast and as he poked it with a hoof. No fingers or thumb; how am I supposed to eat with a spoon. I could grab the spoon with my mouth but that's not going to work for getting the food in my mouth. What do fingers look like? Trying to pick up the spoon using his hooves wasn't particularly successful and eventually, after his stomach rumbled and reminded him that he was actually hungry, he gave up and simply ate directly out of the bowl of yoghurt. "You know, we do provide you with a spoon." He stopped, looking up at the source of the statement, seeing a new ... pony standing at the doorway to the room. It was a unicorn with a light brown fur coat and brown mane. "Err ... I couldn't figure out how to use the spoon." He replied, weakly. "Fascinating. An unicorn with no sigil who does not know how to pick up a spoon. I take it that you still cannot remember your name?" He shook his head, sadly before exclaiming, "I am a unicorn?" "Yes, indeed you are. And I am Doctor Horse and I deal with the more ... interesting cases around here and unfortunately, you are the most interesting case in this building." "This building?" he asked, confused. "Yes, it is a hospital which is a building full of sick ponies but that's not important right now." Doctor Horse muttered as he made a few notes on a clipboard. His patient stared, amazed, at the floating clipboard and quill; his mouth open, yoghurt drying on his fur. Doctor House noticed that his patient was staring at his simple magic and made further notes. "Hmmm... A unicorn who seems to have forgotten magic and is unaware that he is a unicorn." Snapping out of his stupor, the patient managed to wipe most of the drying yoghurt off his face using the bed linens. "Okay. I am doctor of your physical ailments and we will get you back on your hooves and out of here. Of your mental faculties, I honestly cannot help you but do not worry, there are other doctors here who can deal with you, if you're cuckoo or otherwise. Meanwhile, let us see how you're doing with the basics, such as standing on your own hooves." Said Doctor Horse before yelling down into the hallway, "Nurse?" A white pony in nurse scrubs entered soon after and the doctor asked her to help his patient out of bed. Still unsure what to call himself, the patient eased himself out of the bed with help of the nurse. Soon he was on all four hooves, standing beside the bed and taking careful steps forwards. Except for a few aches he had, it felt good to be standing by himself, without a walker. What's a walker? Nevermind... Soon, he was comfortable moving around the room and was allowed to walk the length of the hallway and back before being guided back to the bed. "That's good, you seem physically okay except for a few bruises. We only need to deal with your magic. I have some time this afternoon; I shall see you at 3pm and we will try practicing your magic." The doctor abruptly wandered off leaving the nurse behind. "Oh, by the way, I am Nurse Redheart. Is there anything else I can get for you?" With nothing else to do, he asked the first thing which came to his mind: "Um... Are there any books I can read?" "The library cart will be bought around this afternoon," Nurse Redheart said, as she left the room. Perhaps I shall have a nap before lunchtime.