½ Emojis & Text

½

1/2 THE MOOON Karen took a seat by the window. She could feel the tension in the room, a palpable thing that thickened the air. The dentist, a man with a name tag that read "Dr. McFinley," entered the room. Plankton swallowed hard as he took his place in the chair. The nurse began prepping him, wrapping a bib around and placing in his mouth a prop that looked like a doorstop, designed to keep his mouth open wide. "Now, Mr. Plankton," Dr. McFinley said, "We're going to give you some anesthesia to make sure you don't feel a thing. It might taste a bit funny, but just relax and let it do it's job." The nurse administers the anesthetic into Plankton's gum, and he felt a cold spread through his jaw, a strange tingling that grew more intense with each passing moment as his mouth grew numb. "Ok Plankton, I want you to start counting backwards from twenty." Plankton took a deep breath. "Twenty... nineteen... eighteen..." With each number, his voice grew softer, his eyelid heavier. By the time he reached fifteen, his speech was slurred, the words barely audible. Karen watched with a mix of concern and fascination as his count grew less deliberate. "Thir...four... th...thwee..." His counting trailed off, and his head lolled to the side with a gentle snore. The nurse gave a knowing smile and patted Plankton's shoulder. "He's under," she assured Karen as she gently moved his head back into place. Karen's gaze followed every move Dr. McFinley made. The chair leaned back, and Plankton's snores grew softer as his consciousness retreated. She watched as the doctor's gloved hands moved precision over Plankton's slack jaw, his face a mask of concentration. She squeezed her own hand into a fist, nails digging into her palm, as the instruments moved in and out of his mouth, a silent ballet of extraction. The chair's hydraulics hissed as it tipped back, and a bright light was shone directly into Plankton's open mouth. The nurse held his mouth open wider, her grip firm but gentle. Dr. McFinley's eyes narrowed in concentration, and his hands worked with a steady rhythm. Plankton's body remained still. The nurse leaned in closer, assisting Dr. McFinley with a suction device, clearing away the excess saliva and blood. Karen forced herself to keep looking, to be there for Plankton, even if he wasn't aware of it. The doctor's face was a study in focus, his forehead creased with the effort of maneuvering around the obstinate tooth. The relief was palpable, even though Plankton remained blissfully unaware of the progress. The nurse's eyes flitted between her monitor and Plankton's face, ensuring his vitals remained stable while offering quiet encouragement to the doctor. Karen watched as the doctor's pliers gripped the tooth and began to apply steady pressure, his knuckles whitening with the effort. The tooth didn't want to give up without a fight, resisting with a stubbornness that mirrored Plankton's own spirit. The tension in the room grew, and Karen found herself leaning forward, her screen glued to the doctor's hands. The pliers twisted and pulled, and she could see a bead of sweat form on the doctor's brow. Finally the tooth gave way, and it was out. Karen couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. The nurse quickly moved in to clean and clamp the area, while Dr. McFinley turned to the final tooth. Plankton's snores grew more peaceful. With the same methodical care, Dr. McFinley began to loosen the last tooth. The pliers clamped down, and the chair's light cast eerie shadows across the room. Plankton's snores grew deeper, his body tensing slightly. Finally, the last tooth was free. The stitching process began. Karen had never seen someone so vulnerable, even though he was unconscious. Each stitch brought him one step closer to being whole again, and she felt a strange sense of pride watching the doctor's skilled hands. Dr. McFinley's fingers moved nimbly, weaving in and out of the gum line. The tiny sutures looked like black threads on a red canvas, a delicate art form in the steady hands of a master. The room was silent except for the occasional beep of the machines and the soft swish of the nurse's gloves. Plankton's face remained a picture of peaceful oblivion. The nurse handed over the sutures with a practiced ease, and Dr. McFinley went to tie them off, one by one. Karen watched the doctor's hands as they moved, the sutures forming neat little knots in Plankton's swollen gums. It was a dance of care and precision, a silent battle against pain that Plankton was blessed to not feel. His mouth, usually so expressive and full of life, was now a numb battlefield, his features slack and vulnerable. "It is done," said Dr. McFinley, his voice cutting through the taut silence. The chair was brought back to an upright position, and Plankton's head was gently cradled as they removed the mouth prop. His mouth was still open. The doctor stepped back, wiping his brow with the back of his gloved hand. "Your husband did very well. The extraction was successful." Plankton's chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths, his face pale and serene. The nurse began to clean him up, her movements efficient but gentle. She removed the bib, dabbed at the corners of his mouth. Plankton's eye remains closed. Karen studied his face, his features relaxed in sleep, his mouth slightly ajar. The sight was both peaceful and painfully vulnerable, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of protectiveness. As the minutes ticked by, his snores grew less frequent and his breathing grew more even. The nurse, noticing Karen's worried gaze, leaned over to whisper, "It's normal for patients to have some funny reactions when coming out of anesthesia. They might say things that don't make sense, or their body might do some funny things. It's the anesthesia wearing off, nothing to worry about. They might even act like they're a bit drunk, or just sleepy for today. It's all perfectly normal." Her words brought a hint of comfort to Karen, who nodded, wondering with excitement and fear what state Plankton would be in when he awoke. She had read about the disorientation that could accompany anesthesia but had never witnessed it firsthand. The first signs of movement from Plankton were subtle, a twitch of his antennae, and Karen leaned in closer in anticipation. "Plankton," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "It's over." His eye fluttered open, lid heavy with sleep and confusion. "It's ok," she soothed, stroking his arm. "You're all done." He blinked slowly, his eye unfocused, looking around the white-walled room as if trying to remember where he was. His mouth was still numb. "Karen?" he mumbled. "I'm here," she said, her voice calm and steady. "The surgery is over, sweetheart. You're going to be ok." Plankton's eye searched hers, his pupil dilated and unfocused. "Wha...what happen'd?" he slurred, his words coming out thick and slow. Karen chuckled softly, her heart swelling with love and relief. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, remember?" Plankton's eye widened, then narrowed as he tried to recall the events of the day. His mouth felt like a cotton field, and his tongue was a clumsy intruder, thick and unresponsive. "I... Don' member," he murmured, his voice still slurred and distant. The nurse chuckled under her mask, "It's the medication, dear. It'll wear off in a bit." Plankton tried to sit up, but his body felt like it had been filled with sand. Karen gently pushed him back down, laughing at his groggy protests. His eye searched the room. "Whewe am I?" he slurred, his antennae waving about. "You're at the dentist," Karen reminded him, her voice filled with amusement. "You had your wisdom teeth removed." Plankton's expression was that of a man who had just been told he had swum to the moon. "Dentist?" he repeated, his voice thick and uncertain. "Teef?" His hand flopped up to his mouth, his fingers probing the swollen gums. "My moufs gone!" he exclaimed, his words slurred and astonished. The nurse chuckled sympathetically. "The numbness will wear off, but for now, try to relax." Plankton's eye blinked slowly, and he looked at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. "My teef," he said again, his voice a mix of disbelief and confusion. He looked around the room, his gaze unfocused and glassy, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. The nurse and Karen exchanged a knowing glance. "Yeah, you're missing a few now," Karen said, trying to keep her voice even. Plankton's eye grew wider, his antennae standing at full alert. "I'm not... I'm not drunk," he protested, his words slurring. The nurse laughed gently, "No, Mr. Plankton, you're just coming out of anesthesia."

GO HONE 1/2 Karen sat in the chair next to the bed. Plankton lay there, snoring softly. They'd just finished removing his wisdom teeth. Karen rarely sees him asleep. He was a light sleeper, always had been. But here he was, mouth agape, drool pooling onto the pristine pillowcase. The nurse had said the anesthesia would wear off soon. She felt a strange mix of pity and amusement. Karen reached out to stroke his forehead. "Plankton?" Her voice was gentle, soothing. He didn't respond. His eye remained shut, but she noticed the faintest twitch of his antenna. A moment later, his eye fluttered open, unfocused. "Wheh...am I?" he mumbled, his voice slurred by the lingering effects of the drugs and numb mouth. "Karen?" "You're in the recovery room, sweetie," Karen whispered. "You just got your wisdom teeth out." The nurse walked in. "How we feeling?" Plankton looked around, his gaze unfocused, as if he wasn't quite sure where to land. "I don't know," he said, voice still thick. "Everything ish tho...big?" The nurse chuckled. "That's the anesthesia. It'll wear off in a bit. Can you tell me your name?" Plankton blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. "Pwankton," he managed, sounding like a toddler with a mouthful of marshmallows. Karen pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh. She felt a tug at her heart, seeing this tough, competent man reduced to such a helpless state. He attempted to sit up, but his body didn't cooperate, flopping back down onto the pillows. "Whoa, wath happening?" he slurred, his eye searching the room as if looking for something familiar. His limbs felt like spaghetti noodles, and his brain was stuck in slow motion. Karen helped him adjust, pillows plumping around his head. She couldn't help but chuckle at his drunken antics. The nurse took his pulse and checked the monitors. "Everything looks good," she said. "Just rest a bit longer." "Oh boy," he muttered, a goofy smile spreading across his face. "Wook at aww tha little fishies!" Plankton's mind was clearly somewhere else entirely. Karen looked around the recovery room, but all she could see were the regular, sterile equipment and a few other patients, not a fish in sight. She couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his silliness. "You're okay," she assured him, patting his hand. "Just the meds talking." Plankton's eye grew even wider, his smile turning into a grin. "Can I pway with dem?" he asked, reaching out a shaky arm to grab at the invisible fish. The nurse looked at Karen with a knowing smile. "It's a common side effect," she assured her. "The drugs can make patients feel pretty loopy." Plankton's giggle grew louder as he continued to "catch" the nonexistent fish. His movements were clumsy, like a baby learning to use their hands for the first time. Karen watched, her heart swelling with a sudden fondness for his innocent charm. "Wook, Karen! I got one!" He held up a finger, waggling it in the air between them. "It's tho tiny!" His eye squinted as he tried to focus on his own digit, then opened wide in amazement. "And it's on my han!" He was utterly captivated by his own hand, turning it this way and that, studying it like a new discovery. Karen couldn't help but smile at his antics. "That's right, Plankton. That's your finger," she said, her voice filled with amusement. "You're doing great." The nurse took a step back, allowing Karen to interact more freely with her husband. "You can talk to him, just keep it calm and don't let him move too much," she said before checking on the other patients. Plankton's gaze followed the nurse, his eye glazed over with wonder. "Wheh's she go?" he asked, his voice innocently curious. Karen leaned in closer, her hand still in his. "She's just checking on the other people who are feeling a bit sleepy like you." He nodded solemnly, his antennas flopping to the side with the motion. "Okay, Karen," he said, as if she had explained the secrets of the universe to him. The room started to spin gently, and he giggled. "I fink I'm on a merry-go-round!" Karen's smile grew, warming the coolness of the recovery room. "No, honey, you're just a bit woozy from the surgery. You need to lie still." Plankton nodded, his grin never leaving his face. "Otay," he mumbled, his eye crossing as he tried to focus on Karen's face. "Buh ith fun!" Karen couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss his forehead. "You're so adorable when you're loopy," she said, her voice filled with affection. Plankton's grin grew even wider, his cheeks flushing slightly from the attention. He closed his eye and leaned into the kiss like a child seeking comfort. "Karen," he said, his voice a slurred whisper, "youw my besht fren." The tenderness in his words made her heart melt. "Always, Plankton," she said, her thumb gently brushing his palm. "Always." He sighed contentedly, his giggle subsiding into a gentle snore. His hand fell limp beside him, his fingers still slightly curled as if holding onto the invisible fish. Karen smiled, catching him. His eye fluttered open again, rousing with a snort. "Whath...?" Plankton mumbled, his gaze floating around the room. He squinted at Karen, his vision blurred. "You're okay," Karen soothed, her voice like a lullaby in the stillness of the room. "You're just coming out of the anesthesia." Plankton blinked slowly, his pupil expanding to take in the soft lights and the unfamiliar surroundings. He tried to speak, but his words came out as mumbles and squeaks. "Wha...?" Karen's screen twinkled with affection as she spoke gently, "You're in the recovery room, sweetie. You're okay." Plankton's mind was still swimming in a sea of confusion. "Buth...buth...my teef?" he managed to ask. "They're out, don't worry," Karen assured him, her laughter barely contained. "The dentist took them out." Plankton looked at her with a mix of relief and silly curiosity. "The dentish?" he asked, his voice childlike. "Wheh did the put dem?" Karen nodded, trying not to laugh. "They're gone, gotten rid of." Plankton's face scrunched up like a little kid's, trying to understand. "Buth I can't feel dem," he whined, his hand gently probing his swollen cheek. "Awe youw shure?" Karen nodded, her smile never wavering. "They're gone, I promise. You'll have to be careful with soft food for a few days." Plankton's eye lit up like a child at the mention of a treat. "Soft food? Wike ice cweam?" Karen nodded, her laughter bubbling to the surface. "Yes, like ice cream. But remember, no chewing." Plankton's face fell. "Oh, no chewing?" he asked, his voice dropping to a disappointed whine. Karen nodded firmly, trying not to laugh at his sulky pout. "No chewing," she said, her voice conciliatory. "But we can have ice cream when we get home." Plankton's expression shifted immediately, his eye sparkling with anticipation. "Wight, wight," he said, his speech slowly becoming clearer. "Ice cweam ith okay?" "Yes, ice cream is okay," Karen said, her voice steady and warm. "But we'll have to wait until we get home." Plankton's eye grew large with excitement. "Hone?" he asked, as if the word had just entered his vocabulary. "Whewe hone?" Karen nodded, keeping her tone calm. "Yes, we're going home soon." Plankton's mouth twitched into a smile. "Whewe?" he asked again, his voice rising with excitement. Karen couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "Soon, Plankton. You just need to stay awake long enough for the nurse to say you're ready." His face fell a little, but then he perked up. "Candoit!" he exclaimed, his words slurred together. He sat up. "I'm awake!" Karen had to hold back her laughter as he swayed like a ragdoll before flopping back onto the bed. "Not quite yet, Plankton," she said, patting his shoulder.

KAREN TOLD THE DOCTOR 1/2 (Autistic author) In the quiet town of Bikini Bottom Plankton went about his day. "Honey, don't forget your lunch!" Karen called out from the kitchen of the Chum Bucket, her voice echoing through the small, dimly lit restaurant. Plankton looked down from his ladder with a grin, his single eyebrow arched in amusement. "Thanks, dear. I'll be sure to eat," he shouted back, waving before continuing his ascent to the roof. Karen watched him climb, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and admiration. He had always been so industrious, so dedicated to their little establishment. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt that his days were spent in such a tiny, unassuming place while his mind dreamt of grandeur. But the love they shared was unshakeable, and she knew that his heart was as big as any of the spectacular inventions he concocted in his lab. With a final heave, Plankton reached the peak of the restaurant. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, the sea breeze whipping through his antennas. The view from the top was surprisingly beautiful, offering a rare glimpse of the vast ocean beyond the city's coral skyline. The sun was high and warm, casting long shadows over the bustling street below. It was a stark contrast to the chilly, claustrophobic world he often found himself in, but it was a moment of tranquility before the storm of his daily tasks. As he leaned over to place his lunchbox, a sudden gust of wind sent him teetering. Karen's concerned eyes grew wide as she watched her husband wobble, his tiny limbs flailing for balance. In a heart-stopping instant, Plankton lost his footing and plummeted towards the unforgiving concrete. Time seemed to slow down as Karen's scream pierced the air. Plankton's mind raced with a million thoughts, but one stood out above the rest: 'I hope this doesn't hurt too much'. The impact was deafening, a sickening crack reverberating through the alley. The world around him turned to a dizzying blur as pain shot through his skull. Karen bolted from the kitchen. She rushed to Plankton's side. Her hands trembled as she tried to lift his head. "Plankton! Speak to me! Are you okay?" He lay unconscious, a grim silence hanging in the air. "Oh no, oh no, oh no," she mumbled, her voice shaking. Her hands wrapped around his frail frame, she cradled him against her chest, willing him to stir. But Plankton remained still, oblivious to the world spinning on around him. His eye is closed. She had to get him to the hospital, fast. At the hospital, the doctors hovered over Plankton, their faces a blur of concerned scrutiny. They muttered in hushed tones, exchanging glances that spelled trouble. After seemingly endless hours of tests and examinations, the doctor approached her, a heavy expression etched on his face. "Mrs. Plankton, I have some news," he began, his words cutting through the hospital's sterile air like a knife through jelly. "Your husband has acquired Autism." Karen felt the floor drop away beneath her. The diagnosis was as unexpected as it was devastating. She had heard of autism, of course, but it was always something that affected others, something that happened to someone else's loved ones. Now, it was her Plankton, the man she had known for so long, who had suddenly become a stranger in his own mind. She clung to his limp hand, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "What does this mean?" she managed to ask, her voice a mere whisper. The doctor explained that acquired Autism was a rare condition that could manifest after a traumatic brain injury. It could cause sudden changes in behavior, social interactions, and communication. Plankton would need time to adjust, and so would she. Karen felt a wave of fear wash over her. How would they navigate this new reality? What would happen to their business? When he finally awoke his usual sharp wit and cunning demeanor had been replaced by a childlike innocence. Plankton blinked slowly, his single eye dazzling with confusion. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice weak and disoriented. She squeezed his hand tightly, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm here," she said, her voice choking. "You've had an accident." He looked around. "You've autism now." He hears the doctor tell him. Karen watched, heart breaking, as Plankton began to stim, his body rocking back and forth, his eye fixed on a spot on the wall. It was a behavior she had never seen from her husband before, and it was as jarring as it was heart-wrenching. The doctor gave her a gentle nod, understanding the overwhelming emotions swirling in her mind. "It's common for those with autism to have repetitive behaviors like this. It's a way for them to self-soothe and process their environment." Karen stroked Plankton's antennas, hoping to offer some comfort. He didn't react at first, but eventually, his rocking slowed, his gaze meeting hers. The intelligence she had always known was still there, but it was as if it was shrouded by a thin veil of bewilderment. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed, her voice quivering. "We'll get through this." The doctor nodded sympathetically. "It's important that you both learn how to communicate again. Plankton, can you tell me what you're feeling?" Plankton's response was slow, his words a staccato rhythm of echolalic palilalia. "It's okay, Plankton, we'll get through this," he repeated, echoing Karen's earlier sentiment. The words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the connection they still shared, despite the stark neurological shift. Karen's eyes filled with tears as she nodded. "Yes, we will. But now, tell me what's happening in your head." Plankton fidgeted, his gaze drifting to the doctor. "What's happening in my head?" he repeated, his voice a mirror of Karen's. The doctor smiled kindly. "It means you're echoing the words of others. It's a way that some people with autism process language. It's not uncommon." Karen nodded, wiping at her tears. "Okay. Plankton, can you tell me what you want for dinner?" His eye twitched, the words swirling in his head. "Want for dinner?" he echoed, his voice a mix of his own and hers. It was frustrating for him, trying to make sense of the world through this new filter of repetition. But Karen's patience was unwavering. "Yes, honey, tell me what you want." Plankton's thoughts raced, trying to find the words to express his desires. The doctor observed them, noting the tenacity in Karen's eyes. "It's okay," he assured, "Take your time." Finally, Plankton spoke, his voice a mix of Karen's and his own. "Pizza," he said, his eyes lighting up. "Want pizza for dinner." The simple response brought a relieved smile to Karen's face. "Pizza it is," she agreed, her voice steady. The doctor nodded, making a note. "This is a good start," he said. "Echoing is a part of the process. You can now get to leave the hospital." Once they were back at the Chum Bucket, Karen gets pizza. Plankton sat at their usual table, his eye glued to the spinning ceiling fan. "It's spinning, it's spinning," he whispered to himself, the words a comforting mantra in the cacophony of his thoughts. Karen placed the pizza in front of him, his favorite topping: mushroom. The smell wafted up, and she watched as his face lit up, a glimpse of the Plankton she knew peeking through the fog. "Thank you, Karen," he said, his voice still slightly mechanical. She smiled, her heart swelling with love and hope. "You're welcome, honey," she replied, echoing his phrase back to him. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the fan. "It's spinning," he murmured. Karen sat down across from him, picking up a slice of pizza. "Would you like a piece?" she asked, deliberately using simple, direct language. Plankton's eye flicked from the spinning fan to the pizza, then back again. He nodded slowly. "Like a piece," he echoed, his fingers reaching tentatively for the cheesy delight. The melted cheese stretched out, snapping back as he pulled his hand away. He laughed, the sound a mix of his old self and the new, childlike wonder he had discovered. Karen watched him. "You like the cheese?" she asked, keeping her voice soft and steady. Plankton nodded, his eye sparkling with excitement. "Cheese," he repeated, his voice a comforting echo of hers. He took a bite, his eye widening with joy as the flavors exploded in his mouth. "Cheese," he said again, his voice a little less mechanical, a little more like the Plankton she knew. As they ate together in the quiet restaurant, Karen felt a sense of normalcy return, albeit a tentative one. The rhythm of their conversation was off, but the love between them was still palpable. "Cheese," Plankton said again, his voice filled with child-like delight. Karen smiled sadly, her swelling with both joy and sorrow. After dinner, Karen decided to give Plankton a tour of the restaurant, hoping to reacquaint him with their business. As they moved through the kitchen, Plankton's eye fixated on a frying pan. "Sizzle, sizzle," he murmured, echoing the sound of food cooking. Karen took his hand and led him to the cash register. "This is where we take money," she said, her voice gentle. Plankton nodded, his gaze shifting to the shiny chrome surface. "Money," he repeated, his voice a soft echo. They made their way to the lab, a place Plankton had once ruled with an iron fist. His eye grew wide, his excitement palpable. "Gadgets," he whispered, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. Karen couldn't help but smile. "Yes, honey. You used to make all sorts of gadgets here." He repeated her words, his hands reaching out to touch the cold metal. "Make gadgets," he said, his voice echoing in the small, cluttered space. Karen squeezed his hand. "Not now, Plankton. But maybe, soon," she said, her tone cautiously optimistic. Plankton nodded, his eyes still fixed on the gadgets. "Soon, soon," he echoed.

🪲

😰↗️💀

🍕🔪🍰

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💀➡️💓

🌗🌕

▌❤️or❤️▐

☝️➡️✌️

😵🥀🪧

¹⁄₂➗📊

▊▎

1️⃣↔️2️⃣

🏥📉😵

🍰🔪🍔

🪵1️⃣✖️2️⃣

💀🤏⏳

🧩➕

1️⃣✖️2️⃣

😵‍💫⏳🚪

📊📉

🍕🔪➡️👥

👻🗡️🥴

👻❤️

🍕🍰

☝️➗✌️

😶⚪

💀➕❓

🍕➗🔢

1️⃣/2️⃣

½🤯

😅🤏💀

🍕➡️🔽

👻⚪😴

⚪️½

📊%

🧩➕🧭

🧩➡️🖼️

🌗

💔✂️

🧩

➗

🌗🅰️

🧱>▪️

🅰️／🅱️

🥧🔪➡️🍰

⏳✊✨

🟩⬜️⬜️

❤️‍🩹💀

🟦➡️▪️

🦶⚰️

🍕🍕

💀👻⚰️

🧩➡️🏘️

⏳❤️↘️💀

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💔🤏

🥧%

½💀

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½⭐

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➖½

／

💔

❤️‍🩹🟥⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️

🧩✨

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🟢🟢🟢⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

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3️⃣/🔟

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🌙½

🌕½

1️⃣➗2️⃣

1️⃣½

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½:

½➕½

🔋½

⬜️|⬛️

✊🚪☁️

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瀕死➡️復活➡️💪

💥🩹⚡️⬆️

➡️／

😨🧵🤏

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