ER

The Surgery Room

    Bursting through the E.R. doors, the paramedics bypass the main lobby while rushing Scootaloo into emergency surgery. As she lies on the gurney, her mental delusion, caused by the strong pain and anesthesia medications sedating her, left her seeing spiraling images of the doctors running beside her yelling jumbled up speech she couldn’t intelligently straighten out. Suddenly, her mind blacked out from one of the doctors giving her a shot of Midazolam (mid' ay zoe lam).

Suspended from a conscious state, Scootaloo is carried into a suite where the surgeons patiently waited. Seeing her being escorted in, the assistants strapped on their masks and peered at the filly while an overhead light shined down upon the scene before them. Sticking out in several areas around her underside, four huge spikes of oak gabbed into her skin. They left fresh blood-soaked patches of bleeding flesh and tendons that contracted as the doctors moved her body onto the table of operation.

Standing by them, lined in white cloth and decorated by metal scalpels, speculums, and retractors, a silver table stood, waiting to save a little filly in the cold, sterile environment. Entering the room, Dr. Red Heart, the hospital's general pegasus surgeon, is levitating a clipboard outlining Scootaloo’s current condition and possible extent of her injuries. After scanning the notes a final time, he puts them down by the surgery room’s cabinets.

Pulling up his mask, the Doctor walks over to his team and reports, “Alright, we need to be delicate with the PAT. For as far as I can see, we could be dealing with simple impalements as long as they haven’t damaged any of the major organs.”

The team speaks in unison, ''Yes sir.'’

“Alright then,” the Doctor commands, “Lets begin.” And may Celestia be with you, buddy, thought the surgeon.