>Day Trix is for kids in Equestria
>You are Doctor Anonymous.
>Or at least you were back on Earth.
>When you awoke to find yourself in a land of technicolor magical equines, you were flabbergasted.
>You had nothing
>As a man of science, almost everything you were seeing and hearing was impossible.
>Few things made sense.
>And you couldn't find yourself at peace. The p0nies, save the princesses, were vary wary of you, and the ones who did bother to talk to you clearly only planned to use you.
>But perhaps worse of all, was that you feared you'd never get to do what you love again, and that was helping people.
>You never wished for people to get hurt. You didn't have some sick ego that needed stroking.
>If your greatest love was helping people, then your greatest wish was a day that you wouldn't be needed for that anymore.
>But you knew better than to expect that, and so you kept doing what you love.
>You had the opportunity to rise high back home, but you always turned down promotions. You enjoyed where you were cause it let you spend more time with the patients, rather than filing papers and dealing with hospital bureaucracy.
>But now there were no 'people' here to help. You didn't know a thing about p0nies, or any of the other species here. You wanted to not be needed, but this wasn't the way you wanted it to happen.
>You could study and learn about them, but it would take longer to learn an alien species, especially a magical one, than it did to learn your own.
>It could take years, or Heaven forbid a decade or more, and you weren't a young man anymore.
>Plus, you couldn't even get into any university or hospital.
>It seemed that your love was over. But it's not like you had anything else to do, so you might as well study, even if it is futile.
>But that changed shortly after your arrival.
>While walking about the lower end of Manehattan, apparently the leading city in the medical field, a thunderous cacophony could be heard.
>The normal human instincts in you screamed to get away from potential danger.
>The doctor in you told you to run towards it.
>And run you did.
>Anything that makes such a horrible sound like that and someone, somep0ny, is bound to be hurt.
>You hope that you're wrong.
 >Arriving at the scene, you see the source. The entire front of a building had collapsed.
>P0nies were scrambling to get away, some were crawling, and a few had to be carried.
>Some didn't seem to move at all.
>It was terrible. The screams of pain from the injured, the cries of grief from loved ones.
>It was what you hated most about your job.
>You hear someone screaming for a doctor, and if the response he received was accurate, it was going to be at least twenty minutes before they'd arrive.
>Medical p0nies were typical unicorns and earth p0nies, and the streets were now cluttered by terrified a populace.
>It seems once they were riled up, p0nies were utterly irrational. They seemed to be a very emotional species.
>But that's not important. You may not know their anatomy and physiology, but perhaps some of your training could help, even if it was only in the slightest.
>You immediately take charge of the situation, trying to control the chaos and pandemonium.
>You shout as loud as you can.
"If there's anyp0ny here who knows anything about treating injuries, please step come forward now! We also need those with light or no injuries to please get out of the way so response personnel can help tend to the wounded!"
>But you're just not loud enough, the p0nies can't stop panicking and screaming long enough to hear you or even pay attention.
>You can't even make your way through the mob, despite the size difference. P0nies are just running every which way with seemingly no purpose other than to get in the way.
>You'll never get close to the site, and you'll never get a chance to help anyone.
>For all you know, somep0ny could lay dying, and all it would take is the most basic of first-aide to save them, and you couldn't even get to them to do that.
>"WILL EVERYP0NY SHUTUP AND LISTEN!?"
>Everp0ny who was running around stop in their tracks, like deer in headlights, with the only sounds coming from the injured.
>You've been in disasters and heard people screaming through megaphones.
>This sounded like someone screaming through a row of them.
>"What do you need them to do?"
>Coming up beside you, a blue p0ny wearing a purple cape, and has what looks like a wizard hat floating near her mouth, the open end facing out just like a megaphone. It doesn't take long to realize she is the source of the yell, and you quickly run with it.
"I need the uninjured and those with minor cuts and bruises to stand off to the side. I also need anyone with any medical training or familiarity with wounds to help run triage and emergency first-aide, if you p0nies know what triage that is."
>She nods and yells into her hat, repeating what you told her.
>P0nies quickly begin making their way away from the destruction, and a few making their way among the wounded.
>You quickly go to see if there is anything you can do. The p0nies tending the wounded look at you awkwardly, and a bit fearfully a moment, trying to decide what to do.
>The cries coming from their fellows soon overcome their hesitations with you as they go back to helping who they can.
>Most of the wounds are a few broken legs, some concussions and contusions. A few you don't need any medical experience, even alien, to tell they aren't gonna make it.
>You begin telling the nearby p0nies what you see wrong with the ones whose problems you can identify, and they set about doing what they can for them.
>"Please! Somep0ny, help!"
>You run towards the cry for help, and find an orange unicorn mare, wearing a broad hat with a large feather coming out of it, crying over a white stallion. She looks at you, not even caring who or what you are, with a begging look in her eyes you're familiar with.
>"Please help my husband, he isn't breathing well and he's in too much pain to talk!"
>You kneel down, and look straight at the mare, her eye darting back and forth her husband to you.
"I'll do what I can, but I need you to help me." She nods. "Good, firstly to understand that some of the things I'm about to do may hurt him, but it needs to be done to find out what's wrong, so don't interfere."
>She looks hesitant, but slowly consents.
>Not wasting anymore you begin looking over the stallion. It'd help if you had any medical tools.
>You lean close to him, listening to his breathing. It's rapid and shallow, with occasional coughs.
>A bad sign.
>You move your hands to his sides, above his lung. You notice discoloration, even beneath his coat, and apply a light pressure. He responds with pained coughing, and his breath quickens.
>"What are you doing?! You're hurting him!"
"His lung has collapsed...it's not good. I don't have the equipment or tools to treat this."
>"There has to be something you can do! Anything!" She's getting hysterical.
"If I had something sharp like a knife and a small tube, like a straw or something, maybe I could do something. I don't suspect you have a chest tube on hand?"
>She shakes her head slowly at the last bit, likely she's never even heard of one.
>"I've got a a file in my in my bag, would that work?"
>A file wasn't a scalpel, and it certainly wasn't a chest tube, and it probably wasn't going to be very sanitary, but a chance at fighting infection later or dying now didn't leave much room for discussion.
"Ok, that will have to do, but we still need something to let the air or fluids out of him." You look back to her, and notice the feather in her hat again. "I need the feather in your hat and the file you mentioned."
>She doesn't even question your words, and levitates the feather off her hat to you and scrounges through her bag for the file before giving it to you as well.
>You have no idea why these things are so sharp when all they do is whittle down nails, or hooves in this case. The thing is practically a knife near the tip.
>You start to cut the end off the quill. If this stallion had any luck at all left in the world, the feather would be real and hollow, and not some cheap solid fake.
>A couple of cuts, and you hold the short piece of at eye level.
>It's hollow. All that's left to do is pray he survives and doesn't die from an infection later.
"Ok, the quill is blunt so I can't get it to puncture by itself like a chest tube, so I'm going to have to make an incision just smaller than the tube's width and the force it in. I won't lie, it'll hurt him and is extremely risky. If the situation were even the slightest bit better, I wouldn't even attempt this. I need you to hold him down tightly. If he jerks, he could throw himself into the file and..."
>You let the sentence end there, she gets the idea. It wouldn't help any to scare her.
>She lays on his legs, and keeps his head and neck down with magic. She whispers to him, most likely words of encouragement, that he'll be ok and that she loves him.
>She nods that she's ready.
>And you move the file down, opening a small hole above the lung.
>He breathes as deep as he can from the pain, which only leads to more pain from the deeper breathe.
>The mare sits as hard as she can and keeps her magical hold on him, shushing him and whispering things you were too busy concentrating to listen to.
>It was time for the last bit. You didn't know how far the lungs were from the skin, he was still breathing, so you don't assume you cut too deep.
>But the makeshift straw would need to go a a bit deeper than the cut, and you don't know how much deeper that is, or if you can even do it without jarring force, you'd only find out after it was done.
>His breathing would either return to relatively normal levels, or it'd stop entirely.
>Stopping this train of thought before it derails before you even try, you position the tube, and begin pushing down.
>The stallion tries to kick and buck a bit harder at the more blunt force compared to the file's cleaner cut.
>The mare holds as much as she can, still trying to keep him calm.
>You keep the thumb over the tube, waiting for any sign of pressure that you've reached your target.
>It feels like hours have passed, but it's barely been a few seconds as you push hoping that nothing goes wrong when so many things can.
>And then there it was, a light pressure on you thumb. You stop pushing and release the finger as air and fluids come up through the tube.
>His chest, or whatever its called on a p0ny, rises more than it has since you started as his breathes are deeper and less pained.
>After thirty seconds, you put your finger back over the tube, preventing anything going back in as the air and fluid began coming out with less force.
"With any luck he should hold until a medical team can better treat him. Do you think can tend to him while I go see to any others?"
>She nods frantically. "Yes yes yes, thank you so very much! I don't know what I would do if I lost him." Her tears and choked up voice make it difficult to understand, but you get the general idea.
"It's important he doesn't move till professionals arrive, he may still be suffering from injuries I can't diagnose, so make sure he understands that if he regains consciousness before then. It's also imperative that the end of this tube remains closed. If he has trouble breathing again, open it for a few seconds, and immediately close it again. No air can go back through, understand?"
 >She nods and you leave to help anyone else you can.
>About forty-five minutes pass before emergency crews arrive, apparently things like this are exceedingly rare here, and they just aren't trained to respond this quickly.
>It turns out the cause of the accident was the building owner thinking it was cheaper to pay a city inspector to look the other way rather than pay to have repairs done. Structural damage built up, and eventually it just fell apart.
>All in all, there were roughly two hundred injuries. Fortunately the bulk of them were minor cuts and bruises, and rattled nerves.
>Others suffered from broken bones and some concussions.
>Only about twenty suffered any serious or life-threatening injuries.
>But eleven were confirmed dead.
>And it would've been twelve according to the medical p0nies who got there first. After looking over the p0ny you saved, they were sure he wouldn't have survived till they arrived.
>They also commented on the injuries of other p0nies, and how organized and controlled the situation was, given the circumstances.
>The Princesses themselves thanked you publicly for you service to her p0nies. You told them that it was thanks to some blue unicorn that you and the others could even do what you did, but you didn't get her name and didn't see her again afterwards. The chaos of that day was too much, so you couldn't recall anything beyond the color of her coat, and something about a hat.
>Celestia told you that unless the p0ny came forward themselves, she wasn't going to look into it since it probably meant they didn't want the attention, but was thankful nonetheless.
>She asked you if there was anything she could do for you in return.
>There was only one thing you could think of.
>Four years later, after studying and interning at the hospital in Manehattan, you were finally legally a doctor in Equestria.
>A lot of the things you learned back on Earth transitioned over to p0nies, the most you had to learn was general anatomy and bone structure, mainly where things were since amazingly their bodies, aside from diet and a few other things, were quite similar to what you were familiar with.
>The biggest thing you had to get accustomed to was the difference in technology and the tools you had to work with. But p0nies didn't suffer from car crashes, shootings, stabbings, or ODs, so you probably didn't need them.
>And you were more than ok with that.
>Having just finished your rounds for the day, you pass the Foal Ward and here them laughing.
>Deciding to take a moment to check in on them, you see them circled around a blue mare, wearing a purple cape and hat.
>Deja vu hits you, and it takes a few minutes before you remember where you saw her.
>The collapsed building.
>You decide to speak with her after she finishes entertaining the foals, not wanting to interrupt and ruin their fun.
>Having been around for a few years and seeing other unicorn magic shows, her tricks weren't very impressive, better than some, but not the best; however, to young ones stuck in a hospital, her act might as well have been Halloween, Christmas, and the Fourth of July all rolled into one.
>Even in happy colorful p0nyland, hospitals were the same here as they were back home: boring.
>She wowed and entertained, and even purposefully messed up a few times earning laughs from the crowd.
>This went on for some time, till the nurse came in and said the foals needed their rest.
>The foals all 'awwwwww' in unison.
>"Fret not, little ones! For the Great and Powerful Trixie shall return, and grace you with magic the likes you'll never forget!"
>There's a poof of smoke that clears a few seconds later, and the mare, Trixie you gather, is gone.
>That last trick causes the room to practically explode in applause, and you gotta admit, it impressed you a little.
>*cough cough* "Trixie needs to learn not to use so much smoke for that trick."
>Walking out of one of the nearby rooms is Trixie. This seems as good a time as any to approach her.
"Excuse me, Trixie is it?"
>She turns around to look at whoever is calling her, "Is there something you need from Trixie?"
"I may be wrong, but weren't you the one who helped me out a few years back when that building collapsed?"
>She looks likes she's trying to decide on whether to lie or tell the truth, she must not want anyone to know.
>"Yes, it was Trixie. Why do you ask? And who are you?"
"I'm Dr Anonymous, but you may call me Anon. I just wanted to thank you, if it wasn't for you, that could've ended a lot worse for some p0nies."
>"Trixie didn't do anything special, she was just being herself, loud."
>Her words carry a bit of weight of self admonishment as she turns to walk away.
"Hold on, I won't pretend to know you well since we really just met, but at least let me treat you to lunch as thanks for what you did."
>"Trixie is fine, she isn't hungr-" Trixie's stomach turns Judas on her, and betrays her hunger to you. "On second thought, perhaps Trixie could deign to-" she stops and regains herself, "Trixie means, yes, Trixie would appreciate it."
>Referring to herself like that is kinda cute.
"The hospital doesn't exactly serve the best tasting food, so is there anywhere you'd like to eat?"
>She pulls her hat off and starts rummaging through it, the sound of coins, and not very many, clink together.
"If you're worried about money, it's on me, so don't even think about paying.
>"Trixie doesn't want to owe anyp0ny." She sounds unsure of herself.
"Then look at it this way, I just want to treat you to a good meal for entertaining those foals so the next time you visit, you can give them the best show you have. How's that sound? I'm sure it would mean a lot to them."
>Trixie seems to mull it over. "Very well, Trixie accepts, be thankful she-, thank you." She coughs up the 'thank you' like she's never said it before, or at least not sincerely.
>You want to ask her about that, but don't feel it's appropriate since this is your first real meeting.
>"Trixie has always wanted to try the restaurant on Petticoat Junction." You know the place she's talking about. It's not exactly expensive, but you definitely wouldn't call it cheap, either. But considering the quality of the food, it was certainly worth it's price. And it has been a while since you've had a chance to go there. Plus, you never had to wait in line like everyone else, so that's always a good thing.
"Very well, let's go, shall we?"
Trixie nods and leads the way, a bit more pep to her step. She seems to jump between being insecure and restrained,  and a bit haughty and egotistical.
>Perhaps she's bipolar?
>If you honestly had to answer, you'd have to say her reserved attitude didn't really seem to suite her.
>But that's something you'll look into more later, assuming you two keep in touch after this.