Hearts for Medicine: The Work of Canterlot Hospital

An Interview with Dr. Horse, Part 1

There's no other way to say it: the hospital needs more staff. 

The nurses are working harder than any pony ever should. There simply aren't enough hooves to do all that needs to be done. For this reason, having to take time for interviews is not at all what I would like to be doing with my time. However, the HR department (Horse Resources) can only do so much with the candidates before I need to step in. After all, the Head of the Hospital should be able to get along with whoever they hire. There are three candidates that HR has selected for me to interview over the course of a few days. After I've spoken to all of them, I'll decide if they'll be hired. So the first of the three was escorted to my office this afternoon. His name was Silver Mask, and he had his doctorate from Fillydelphia University. He was a grey stallion with a white mane whose styling had obviously taken up most of his prep time this morning. Dr. Silver Mask sat down in the chair provided with an air of confidence. Whether or not that confidence was earned was still to be discovered. I began the interview with a basic question. "How are you today, Dr. Silver Mask?" He nodded ever so slightly, and spoke a curt "Very well, thank you." We then proceeded to the usual subjects: his previous job, his education, his ideals, his goals, all of that lovely stuff. As the interview progressed, I got the strangest feeling that Dr. Silver Mask was a bit starry-eyed about getting an interview in the hospital of Canterlot, where nobility were a daily part of life. He had gone off on some long-winded praise of how clean the facility was, and how the nurses all looked professional, and on and on and on. I finally grew tired of it. "Dr. Silver Mask? Your remarks have been very kind, but flattery will get you nowhere." All at once, it was as if a different stallion sat before me. For the first time, I realized how young Dr. Silver Mask actually was. He couldn't be older than twenty seven, could he? I discreetly checked the papers on my desk. Twenty-seven, with a birthday a month from now. The stallion before me had little trace of his  previous flattering ways, and he now possessed a curious look. "I am very sorry, Dr. Horse. I really do like the hospital, but perhaps I was a little overbearing." And the rest of the interview went on without issue.

Dr. Silver Mask was decidedly intelligent, but he did have a little bit of a tendency to put his hoof in his mouth, metaphorically speaking. He was a good stallion though, and I would have to consider him as a definite contender for a position. I closed the interview around noon, and shook hooves with Dr. Silver Mask before he got up to go. He did ask me one more question. "Sir, I have a...very dear friend...who is going to be having hip surgery here today or tomorrow. Her name is Swan Lights. Do you know if she has arrived yet?" I said that I did not know, but that he could check with one of the nurses before he left. 

I, on the other hoof, had to get back to my own work.