Practice Makes Perfect

by Crono411

Rating: mature
Tags: Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Other, Mystery, Horror
Length: 1228

They key to being the best is practice, through any means necessary.

When somepony excels at what they do is it their cutie mark alone that causes it, or did they have to work for it? Certainly it is the latter. To be the best you must work for it. You have to put in the time and hours it takes to be the best. That can be a difficult thing when it comes to surgery.

Published 2016-10-17 01:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-17 01:00:01 UTC

Practice Makes Perfect

I finished sewing the last stitch and levitated the scissors over to snip the silk strand. I sighed. The nurse must have thought it was a sigh of relief.

“You did amazing, doctor,” she said. She tilted her head at the monitor. All the patients vitals were stable.

I glanced at her. Blue mane and white coat, which one was that? I simply replied, “Thank you nurse.”

Even past her surgical mask I could see her smile. The nurse wheeled the patient out as soon as I finished post op. I removed my mask and began decontamination. When I left the operating room Buyout was waiting for me.

“You know, you really are the pride of my hospital,” he said.

“You flatter me.” I took a slight bow.

“Seriously though, maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing your secrets with the other surgeons? A team of you would put us at the top.”

“No secret, just lots of practice.”

Buyout frowned. “Well that’s boring.” His assistant whispered something into his ear. He cleared his throat, “I tell you, I hate these late night meetings. Well have a good night.” He nodded politely and moved along.

I looked out the window. The sun was only slightly hidden behind the horizon. If I hurried, I could still make it to the store before it closed. I signed out and left the hospital. Street lights flickered on as the sun continued its descent. I reached the shop, just as Prim Proper flipped her sign to closed. She saw me and opened the door.

“Oh, hello Doctor,” she said. “You need something?”

“A few things,” I replied, “if that is alright with you?”

“Only for you.” She winked. I rolled my eyes and stepped inside. She left to tidy up around the register as I gathered my supplies. By the time I finished she had removed every speck of dust from the counter. It was something we shared. Acute attention to detail, monotonous practice until the method was perfected.

“You’re later than usual,” she said as she rang up the items.

“Yeah, we had a surprise patient near the end of my shift,” I said

“Nothing too bad I hope.”

“Could have been much worse.”

“You must keep your house as clean as mine with how much of this stuff you go through,” Prim Proper said as she rang up the bottles of disinfectant.

I shrugged. “Sorry for keeping you late.” I reached into my bag and paid, sure to throw in a few extra bits for the inconvenience.

“That’s not necessary.” She pushed the extra bits back, but I was already opening the door to leave.

“Good night Prim,” I said.

I heard her giggle, “Good night Doctor,” as the door swung shut.

By the time I reached my house the sun had completely vanished. I unlocked my door and pushed it open taking in a breath. Everything smelled familiar so I set my bags down and locked the door behind me. I made a light meal. While I ate I levitated the disinfectant into a metal bucket, along with a few other supplies. I cleaned the dishes and set them to dry. I grabbed the bucket, moved to the basement door, and nudged it open.

Each wood plank groaned as I descended. I flicked on the light and crossed the cluttered basement to the broom closet in the corner. I opened the door and took in a deep breath, trying to catch any foul smells, but as usual I had cleaned up perfectly so no odors lingered. I lifted the rug and pulled open a hatch.

My steps echoed out as I trotted down the concrete stairs. Darkness engulfed the area, even the light from my spell seemed to be sucked in by it. Eventually a padded door emerged from the darkness. I checked the jambs, making sure they were air tight. After it passed my inspection I moved through to the final door. I repeated my inspection and remembered when I only had one door; that crafty little colt. I barely managed to explain away the noises to the guards. Satisfied with the room’s security, I went in.

When no yells echoed out, I smiled. Did she finally realize the necessity of my work? The sound of a machine monitoring a heartbeat let out a familiar tune. I set the bucket down and turned on the lantern hanging from the ceiling.

The moment our eyes met I knew she didn’t understand. She was still scared, terrified.

“Why don’t you get it?” I asked. “You're helping save lives.” I stepped closer and her heart rate increased. I snorted, they never understood.

I fell into my familiar routine. I examined my tools, making sure I cleaned them properly the night before. I checked the feeding tubes for clogs and replaced the bags, swapped out the bags connected to the catheters, and re-tightened the straps. I checked the stitches from previous incisions for infection. Three sets were ready to be pulled out tonight, and the other fourteen needed more time.

I prepped the surgery area by shaving away another portion of the fillies coat. Her eyes teared up as I worked.

“A patient came in late tonight,” I said. “Stab wound. The knife missed his lung by an inch. If his lung had been punctured, I don’t think I could have saved him... Well, I’ll find out soon enough.”

I levitated out a knife and sank it into the fillies chest. She screamed and convulsed against her restraints. The heart rate monitor went wild. I sank the blade a little deeper until her screams became gurgles. I removed the knife and blood rushed out.

I started my mental timer. Ten minutes for an ambulance to get her, light treatment for five minutes, and then I get to start. I washed off the knife and started decontamination. All the while the filly screamed, only breaking when she had to cough up blood. After the ten minutes passed I injected her with anesthetic. As the drug set in her screams slowly died away and her heart rate returned to normal—no, not normal: slowly declining. I tried to keep her airway clear and stanch the flow. After five more minutes passed the real fun began.

I slipped into the knife wound and followed the injury. I closed the passage to the lung, by that time her blood pressure had already dropped into critical.

“Shit,” I cursed. I took too long to stitch the wound and rushed to cauterize the rest of the bleeding. She flatlined moments before I finished. I did everything I could to resuscitate her, but I called time of death after two minutes. I hated when I failed.

My horn lit up and magic wrapped around the fillies body. The magic darkened as it seeped into her skin. After a moment the heart monitor beeped in a steady rhythm, and the filly took in a impossibly deep breath as she returned to life. She sobbed uncontrollable as her conscience returned.

I began my post operation routine. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Author's Note

Want to thank Typoglyphic for helping me fix this fic up. He did an amazing job at editing it. Found him in the Looking for Editors group. Great place to go if you need some help!