> Covid:A Pony's Survival Story. > by Popcorn Pony > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Its not worth it. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The light bulb over Pocornia's head flickered, she sat cross legged in the center of her bed with a collection of spreadsheets and notebooks scattered around her. She anxiously sifted through everything, it was too much for her to deal with on her own. Feeling overwhelmed, she fitfully scooped up a hoof-full of papers and threw them into the air. "Argaah!" Rent bills, invoices, bank statements, medical bills and all other manner of paperwork cluttered the floor alongside empty coffee cups, popcorn bags and leftover TV dinner trays. By all means, Pocornia's room looked more like a pig sty than anything else. She scoffed at her room, feeling far too overburdened to do anything about it. She frowned, her desperate attempt to address her financial woes having failed miserably. "I can't figure it out...I can't figure anything out." Pocornia rested her face on her hooves, she felt like a very small pony lost in a world far too big for her. That feeling and money weren't the only problems on her mind, letting a drawn out sigh press past her lips as the other problems concerning her pulled her attention. "I'm by myself all the time..." She had been spending the past several weeks alone for most of the day. Her marefriend, Equestrian pony of pop, Sapphire Shores had been traveling to other parts of Equestria to perform for small audiences despite the social distancing regulations brought on by the virus. Pocornia had been trying to help herself feel better by inviting her friends for coffee out in town, but none of them would accept her invites even though she promised to maintain a six foot distance. "They don't like me anymore." Pocornia muttered. Pocornia scowled bitterly and sobbed, quietly wondering what she could do to take her mind off of her stressors. She turned her gaze to her writing desk, it too being a cluttered mess with a variety of trash. She went to her desk and sat down with paper and quill, hoping she could unwind and ride a creative flow. Pocornia hummed "Erm." Pocornia glared at the blank page, feeling intimidated by it. She imagined a starting point in her head, but nothing creative would flow through her mental blockage. She grimaced then leaned back in her chair, thinking about how she tended to approach life. She did not care much for the problems adult life often brought her, that was why she usually faced the world with a not so serious attitude. She preferred to present herself to others as a positive minded pony with an entertaining personality. Her whole identity was that of a happy pony, but she had not been herself in a long while. She threw her hooves up in frustration, unsure as to why she could not enjoy the pleasure that writing once gave her. Pocornia yanked a desk drawer out, reaching for a bottle within. “Dang it, this is so dumb!” She ranted as she filled a large glass full of vodka. Pocornia angrily tossed the bottle back into the drawer, causing some other contents to roll around. She slurped the vodka down, ignoring the unappealing burn in the back of her throat. She continued to drink then poured herself another glass. “I don’t….uh, I ish’in...write!” Pocornia drunkenly mumbled. Pocornia reached for her quill then pressed it on paper. She waited, eagerly anticipating a creative flow to guide her hoof. Pocornia’s hoof sat still as if it were stuck in time. She gave the paper a grimace of doubt as she folded her arms. “Jeeze...I can’t, this is dumb.” Pocornia cried softly then pressed her head into her hooves. Pocornia felt miserable, truly miserable, like her whole world had been pulled out from under her. The virus was a problem she could not fix, she knew that, but she needed to find a way to feel better. She left her desk and walked to the window by her bed. She saw another pony walking along the road by her home. The pony looked at Pocornia, her face hidden behind a mask. Pocornia smiled and waved at the pony. The pony looked away. Pocornia felt ignored. She would have waved back if somepony had waved at her, that was the right thing to do. She growled like a wild animal about to pounce. She then threw herself at her bed, grabbing her phone mid flight. Her wings tensed up as she dialed her marefriend’s number. “Hello?” Sapphire answered. “Hiiieee.” Pocornia warmly cooed. “Popcorn, honey...how are you?” Sapphire apprehensively replied. “Well...I just, um...want you to come home.” Pocornia uneasily answered. The conversation paused briefly, a sense of tension crossing both Pocornia and Sapphire’s mind. “Pocornia…” Sapphire sullenly replied. “We need the money…” Pocornia sat quietly with the phone pressed hard against her ear. “I would love to be home right now, but I.” Sapphire stopped, her voice cut down by Pocornia’s rebuttal  “But you need to sing for Canterlot snobs?” “Pocornia!” Sapphire countered. “No, okay, you have been gone for weeks leaving me in the house and I got problems too!” Pocornia argued. “We’ve discussed this several times!” Sapphire shouted. “No, I can’t deal with it all!” Pocornia yelled back. “I can’t put it all together, it's too much!” Pocornia squealed. Pocornia heard some indescribable chatter on the other end of the phone. Sapphire bellowed out. “The show is about to start, I have to go...” Pocornia rolled onto her back, letting her phone drop to the floor. She stared blankly up at the ceiling, her eyes gradually panning to her writing desk. It was once her place of solace, but her inability to write of late has turned it into a place of stress. She slowly worked her drunken self over to her desk and sat down, eyeing her bottle of vodka and the many sleeping pill bottles next to it. Pocornia took the vodka and the bottles back to her bed. She popped hoof-full after hoof-full into her mouth, forcing them down with rough gulps of vodka. She laid down, resting her head on her pillow. “Go to sleep…” She murmured as she wrapped herself in blankets. Time went on as Pocornia drifted off. This was where Pocornia was meant to be, surrounded and comforted by all she had worked for. Her room was where she used to be happy, but...she was now hurting. She awoke, a terrible pain in her side jolting her up. She tried to breathe, emitting a sharp whistle sound after every breath. She scrambled for her phone, grabbed it and called emergency services. “911, what is the address of which you are calling from?” The dispatcher asked. “762 sparkle dust lane!” Pocornia urgently answered. “What is the nature of your emergency?” The dispatcher inquired. Pocornia struggled to breathe, having to force her words out “I took a bunch of pills and vodka, I need help!” The dispatcher’s voice faltered, sounding uneasy “Are you having trouble breathing?” “Yes!” Pocornia gasped and gagged as her throat clenched up. “Are you alone?” Pocornia froze, the dispatcher’s words bouncing around in her head. The reality of the situation quickly sunk into Pocornia’s troubled mind. “I’m alone…” She paused, thinking of what to say next. "My name is Pocornia." “Alright Pocornia, I need you to go to your front porch and sit there.” The dispatcher urged. Pocornia left her room, running with a shaky gait all the way outside onto her home’s porch. She heard ambulance sirens blaring loudly as an ambulance raced down the road towards Pocornia’s home. Pocornia wheezed, sounding very raspy as she collapsed onto her knees with the phone still pressed against her ear. “Pocornia, hang in there.” The dispatcher sounded sincere, trying to make a connection with her. “Pocornia, just hang in there.” The ambulance neared, the driver cutting the corner so sharply that the vehicle drifted into Pocornia’s driveway. Two medic ponies jumped out with a stretcher, they were shocked to see Pocornia sprawled out on the hard ground. The medics carried Pocornia into the ambulance, the driver racing the ambulance back onto the road.  Pocornia fluttered her eyes, trying to clear her flooded vision. She saw washy blue and gray colors, bright white lights and many hoofs over her exchanging various objects. She felt a hoof against her face, a light tan stallion wearing a white lab coat stood over her. “How many pills did you take and what brand?” “I...Ish, um…” Pocornia blabbered, spittle dripping down her chin. “Vvvfffff...vodka!” “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you did.” The doctor replied, turning his attention to his colleague, Nurse Redheart.  Nurse Redheart assisted her colleague, Doctor Horse, as he hooked Pocornia up to an electric heart monitor. “Police searched her home and found sleeping pills in her room. Poison control recommended liquid charcoal and two rounds of medicated I.V drip.” Nurse Redheart explained. Doctor Horse returned his attention to Pocornia who had shut her eyes. He slapped her face repeatedly and yelled her name while Nurse Redheart continued to connect other types of heart monitors and a blood pressure cuff to Pocornia. “Pocornia, you need to wake up!” He shouted, jostling Pocornia awake. Pocornia started to mumble incoherently. “Urf, I...I Ish’um...in there?”  “Pocornia, listen to me. How much did you take?” Doctor Horse asked in a more interrogative way. “Ah...a lot, plateful?” Pocornia timidly eyed the doctor. “Gonna be...okay?” Doctor Horse’s eyes watered, he rested his hoof on Pocornia’s arm. “We don’t know yet.” “I feel…” Pocornia held her head and blinked rapidly. Nurse Redheart pricked Pocornia with a needle. “We will draw blood every few hours to check your pancreas and liver functions. For now, we need to stabilize you.” Nurse Redheart gave Pocornia an eagle eyed look. “Why did you do this?”  “I’ve been so depressed.” Pocornia answered, drawing in a quick breath. “Nopony cares about me.” Pocornia’s face started to flush, turning pale. She reached for her chest as a nauseated feeling glossed over her. “Help...I need help.” Pocornia begged. “If she passes out again, we’ll have to.” Doctor Horse immediately stepped back as Pocornia lifted herself over her bed’s railing, violently expelling an absurd amount of vomit. She retched and heaved loudly as Nurse Redheart helped her lean forward more to keep her from choking. A sour and acidic odor filled the room, the other nurses moving to clean the floors and walls. Doctor Horse wiped his soiled lab coat down while Pocornia cleared her throat. Pocornia sat for a moment, feeling increasingly faint. Her skin started to tingle. She reached for and tugged at the doctor, an emptiness feeling in her chest making her fear for her life. “Help...I need help!” Pocornia started to mumble incoherently until she fell backward onto her bed, her eyes closing. Nurse Redheart had already ran out and back into the room with a defibrillator, Pocornia’s flatlining heart monitor having tipped her off. She handed the shock pads to Doctor Horse who pressed them onto Pocornia’s chest. “Clear!” He yelled, shocking Pocornia. “Clear!” Pocornia’s eyes remained closed. Unconscious, she felt weightless yet also felt like she was falling from a great height. She was in a room that was not her own, several other nurses rushing into it to help resuscitate her. Doctor Horse climbed onto Pocornia’s bed and started doing chest compressions. Nurse Redheart grabbed another nurse by the shoulder to get her attention. “Does she have a power of attorney?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The slightest sound echoed in the hospital halls, Doctor Horse listened to his own hoof steps being played back to him. The hospital was not like this, it used to be a busy place filled with all sorts of ponies going to and from where they were most expected. Doctor Horse snorted in agitation, Covid had changed a lot of things. He neared a visitor room, one meant for ponies who wanted to see an intensive care patient. He entered the room, quickly recognizing all four of the visitors as very popular musicians. Sapphire Shores stared blankly at him, like she was expecting him to give her the worst possible news. “I’ve seen family members give me that look many times, I assure you that she is going to be alright.” Octavia Melody anxiously ground the tips of her hooves against each other, her eyes fixated on the floor. “Can we see her?” “I’m sorry, but the answer is no. She tested positive for Covid.” Doctor Horse answered before pointedly glaring at Songbird Serenade. “And I don’t want any of you trying to sneak in there again!” “I want to see her!” Sapphire demanded. “Please, I am worried sick about her!” “Wait a minute, when did you sneak in there?” Vinyl Scratch interjected. “I snuck in there before they locked everything up. It looked pretty bad, but I didn’t get all the details.” Songbird shamefully confessed. “The details, everypony…” Doctor Horse paused to adjust his clipboard.” Is that I have some questions about her mental health, does she have a condition?” Sapphire shook her head, assuming the doctor meant a mental disorder. “No, nothing like that. She just gets moody sometimes and shes lonely.” Doctor Horse raised his brows at Sapphire. “Go on.” “I’ve been on tour for the past several weeks and haven't been home since.” Sapphire explained, her voice drenched with guilt. “Blast!” Octavia roared, somewhat accentuating her British accent. “She’s been alone all this time?” “Bummer…” Vinyl Scratch commented. “She asked me to meet her for coffee and I wish I had, truly, but I stayed home.” Songbird added. “Does she work?” Doctor Horse asked. “She runs a popcorn business, but it's going under and she can’t stop it...” Sapphire answered. Doctor Horse scribbled notes on his clipboard and nodded. “She has obviously been depressed for awhile now. Her business failing, being socially isolated and the mood swings all must have pushed her over the edge.” “What can you do?” Sapphire questioned. “I have to clear her medically first. After that, I'll put her on mood stabilizers then have her committed to the psychiatric ward of the hospital. She’ll probably stay there for two weeks.” Doctor Horse explained. “There's gotta be something we can do?” Vinyl Scratch suggested. Octavia spoke, whispering her words “We’ll all make more time for her…” “Mental health problems have gotten worse since Covid started. Some ponies have not been able to cope with society shutting them out even though it is for everypony’s safety. Emails and phone calls are not always enough to fulfill a pony’s need for belonging. I have seen too many depressed patients try to kill themselves…” Doctor Horse paused, feeling frustrated while fitfully rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Some pony out there needs to find a better solution.” “Take care of her and tell her we love her.” Sapphire wept. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Pocornia sat on the edge of her bed, her head hung low. After a very long stay in the hospital, she finally was back to her room. She sat tensely, stuck in her thoughts. She was in her room and that was good, but she was alone and that was bad. Despite how hard Sapphire argued with her manager, she was forced into going back on tour for another few weeks. Another problem, Pocornia knew still remained, was all of the bills she couldn't pay. Pocornia sighed, none of her friends were able to meet her here to welcome her home either. She quietly wondered if anything had changed since she left the hospital.  Pocornia sniffled and wiped her nose, her writing desk crossing her gaze. It had been organized by Sapphire before she got home along with the rest of her room, everything looked nice and clean. She went to it and sat down, reaching for her quill and paper. She started to scribble, her lips slowly pulling back into a smile. She was glad to be home, to be writing again. "It wasn't worth it...Its better to ask for help..."