I finished writing the story with a tired paw. The quick and almost unintelligible scribbles summing up the treatment of yet another patient. The huge accident had taken us all by surprise. The multicar crash had made short work of the vehicles, filling the emergency room of the four hospitals in the Lacuna district. There was a constant sound of gurneys being pushed, doctors giving instructions and nurses asking for backup. I gave the story to one of the nurses and moved on, following the animated gestures of a gazelle nurse, a convulsing Rottweiler in his grasp, turning and trashing in a sight that would never cease to make my skin crawl. I took a deep breath and pushed onward, another patient needed me and I could not fail. I quickly approached the patient, carefully avoiding the scared family member and driven co-workers, sickness, blood and death filling my nose. It didn’t take me long to get there, the nurse quickly giving me a run through of the patient’s conditions. As far as accident patients went, this one didn’t look that worse for the wear, there weren’t that many scratches on him, and a cursory look didn’t show much besides a dislocated shoulder and a bleeding nose, the dark red fluid quickly tainting the brown fur of the dog. It was no wonder he hadn’t gotten attended first, he was a low priority compared to the furs with broken bones, hemorrhage and system failures. Nobody thought of the possible brain damage that was now causing the convulsions, an unavoidable situation in our current predicament.

Another nurse came to help, the old panther quickly helped the gazelle hold down the rottweiler, long enough for me to inject the much needed drugs in his system, the thrashing slowly started to subside. The Rottweiler’s chest raising and falling heavily with exertion. I had bought us time, maybe enough to save this young man. I gave him a quick check up, forcing my tired mind to go through the almost instinctual process. His pupils were dilated, but responsive. His breathing was stable, for the time being. There was no froth on his muzzle, and no damage seemed to have happened to him while convulsing. I gave the nurses orders to take him for a CT scan and to have Dr. Mallard, the on call neurologists handle the results. I gave the young dog one last look, in a perfect world he would have been out drinking with friends and kissing with his mate, yet here he was, dancing with death.

"The world is really unfair" I muttered, leaving the Rottweiler behind to tend to another patient. I gave my watch a quick cursory look, it was barely 10 am, just 4 hours into my turn, and the day only seemed bound to get worse.

I spent the next hours moving from patient to patient, broken bones, bleeding wounds, cries, yells, cardiac arrests. It all started to blur together as I pushed my body to go on. The weight of the tragedy was slowly taking a toll on my mind. So many people hurt, so many dead, and I was sure that it was all going to be blamed on someone else. It was an all tune by now, years working in the ER had taught me that. Tragedies made the best stories for politicians and agitators. An accident helped push a bill. A catastrophe was needed to move the people into action. A disaster was a sign of things to come. And deaths, they were either a number to be used as a weapon, or a self fulfilling prophecy of the degeneration of our society. The whole affair was grim and disgusting. A far cry from what I had hoped to see when I left med school so many years ago. Back then, it had all been about the patients, helping them, healing them and ensuring their fast recovery. It had all been about making a change in the world, and leaving it just a bit better than we had found it. It had all been a lie. Big, insidious and necessary. Our professors told it, we repeated it and eventually, we believed in it. Yet, right now it was all we could do to keep afloat, to keep the world from crumbling down upon us. Crumbling down ourselves.

I crossed the doors of the hospital late at night, my tired paws barely able to keep me standing after the marathon I had just gone through. The sun was already shining its last rays upon the world, and a constant cold breeze robbed me of warmth. My hands swiftly sought refuge in my jackets pocket, but even them the cold air gave them no refuge. My shift finally over, and the tide of patients was now controlled. It was time to take care of myself, and a good late lunch dinner was just the things I needed. I had barely taking a few steps on the direction of my favorite deli, when one of the nurses called my name. She came to me in the hurried walk typical of our professions, her kind eyes looked tired, and I vaguely remembered her help with a score of patients today. The middle aged puma carefully carried a box in her thin hands, a simple cardboard box with a simple blue and purple bow on top. It wasn’t too big, certainly smaller than the books I’ve used back in med school.

"Doctor Undris, Doctor Undris! I’m glad I caught you" She said in a sing song voice, her tail making small nines behind her.

"Dorothea! Where’s your jacket?!" I asked her, another frigid gust of wind sending shivers down my spine.

"Oh, it’s fine, it’s not that cold today" She smiled warmly, surely a self deception. "Anyway, I brought something for you"

"For me, why?"

"Between the accident and the patients, none of us had a lot of time on our hands"

"That comes with the job" I told her matter-of-factly, a bit impatient at her dallying.

"Well, I don’t remember seeing you ate. None of the nurses do" A frown formed on her face, a hint of reproach in her voice. "My grandma always used to berate me when I skipped meals when I was an intern. And I still remember the horrible headaches I got when I didn’t listen to her. So, I locked around my locker and found this."

She gently opened the box, showing a small piece of chocolate cake with soft looking cream covering the borders and a large cherry on top. The chocolate was of a deep brown color, and even in the less than ideal light of the hospital’s entrance, I could see the nice texture the cake had.

"My boyfriend came at noon to give it to me. He heard about the accident and said he wanted to make sure I’d make it to the end of my shift. And I want to share it with you"

I stared dumbfounded at her warm smile, her strong arms offering the sugary treat with effortless grace. I couldn’t fathom why she was doing this, sharing something so precious, after such a long day.

"D-Dorothea, I can’t" I argued, softly pushing back the box towards her. "There’s no need even, I’ll just go to Millo’s and grab something there"

Dorothea’s eyes flashed with determination, her body seeming to grow in bulk as her smile grew wider and more honest. "I insist. By now, you must have burned through most of your reserves, getting to Millo’s, four blocks from here. Um hm, you’re not getting there."

"But-" She cut down any protests I might have with her stern glare, at work I might have hierarchy over her, but out here, she clearly had the advantage. She pushed the box into my arms, softly closing the lid. She gave me a quick kiss on one cheek and turned to leave. I didn’t know what to do for a moment, this whole exchange had been strange, and almost magical. Yet, somehow it felt right. It filled me with warmth, awakening a part of my I had thought lost.

"Dorothea, wait!" I shouted with perhaps a bit too much strength. "Do you want to go together to Millo’s? My treat"

.