Kneesurgery Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Kneesurgery Emojis & Symbols

#KneeSurgery pt. 1 Plankton's foot slipped on the uneven stone. His arms flailed in a desperate attempt to keep his balance. The sickening crack of bone on bone echoed through the stillness as Karen watched her husband Plankton crumple, his face a mask of pain. The quiet evening was shattered by his agonized scream. Karen rushed to his side. Plankton was clutching his leg, his eye squeezed shut. The angle of his lower leg was grotesque, unnatural. It was clear something was very wrong. She didn't need to be a doctor to know that the sound of the snap had been his middle leg bones, breaking. Karen raced as she knelt beside him, his pain a palpable presence. Plankton's breaths came quick and shallow, punctuated by grunts of pain; it was already swelling, the bone jutting under the skin. She knew they had to act fast. "Hold on," she whispered fiercely. "We need to get you to a hospital." Their quiet neighborhood was quickly alight with the wails of an approaching ambulance. The stark white and red lights bobbed through the trees, casting eerie shadows on their panic-stricken faces. The moments stretched into an eternity before the doors swung open and medical personnel flooded out, their movements efficient and calm, contrasting with the chaos of the scene. They moved quickly, strapping Plankton onto a stretcher, his screams of agony piercing the night air as they carefully straightened his leg and secured it in a makeshift splint as Karen hops in. The ambulance lurched forward, the wheels eating up the pavement as they sped toward the hospital. Karen held his hand tightly. "Ma'am, you might want to accompany him into the surgery room, as he'll need an operation." They told Karen. Upon arrival, the doctor spoke in hushed, professional tones, his expression unreadable behind the mask. "It's a serious fracture. We'll need to perform a tibiofibular repair. It's a complex procedure, but our team is prepared. You can stay by him as we operate. Let's get him comfortable first." Karen nodded. "I understand." They transferred him to the operating table, gently arranging his limbs with the precision of experience. Karen held his hand, her eyes never leaving his as the anesthesiologist prepared the medication. Plankton was visibly nervous, his eye darting between the doctor and his wife. To help ease his nerves, the nurse offered Plankton a warm blanket and a stuffed bear, and he clutched it to his chest. The anesthesiologist stepped back, thinking for a moment before speaking up. "We have anesthesia. We can try that. It's not our usual protocol, but in your case, it might be the best option." Karen felt the grip of Plankton's hand tighten around hers. "It'll be okay," she assured him, trying to mirror the nurse's calm demeanor. The doctor nodded in agreement. "We've done this before. We'll take good care of you." The anesthetic began to flow into his veins, and Plankton's eyelid grew heavy. His breathing slowed, and the room grew quiet as his grip loosened and his hand went slack in Karen's. She leaned in, whispering, "I love you," as his eye closed fully, snores now coming from his open mouth. The doctor gave a nod to the anesthesiologist, who nodded back in confirmation. The surgery could begin. Once they finished the surgery, they bandaged Plankton's leg with a cast that went from his toes to his hip, and wheeled him to the recovery room. The doctor explained that it was a successful procedure, though he'd be asleep for several hours. The room was a soft symphony of beeps and whispers, a stark contrast to the chaos of the operating theater. Karen waited, her fingers intertwined with his, feeling his pulse steady and strong under her fingertips. The nurse dimmed the lights. "He's reacting nicely to the anesthesia. It's normal and ok if today he tends to doze off easily." Karen nodded. As Plankton slept on, the nurse adjusts his stuffed bear so that it doesn't press against his cast. She smiles reassuringly at Karen. "He's going to be okay," she says softly. "We'll keep a close eye on his vitals, yet he should be coming around shortly." Karen nods, gratitude in her screen, and squeezes his hand gently. "You can even talk to him if you'd like. Sometimes it helps to hear a familiar voice." Karen leans closer to Plankton's sleeping form. "You're going to be okay. You're going to recover, and we're going to get through this." The nurse nods, a sympathetic smile on her face as she checks the IV dripping pain relievers into his arm. Eventually, Plankton's eye opens groggily, looking around the room in confusion. He winces as the light pierces his pupil, and Karen quickly reaches over to dim the lamp. "It's okay," she says soothingly. "You're in the hospital. You had an accident." His eye finds hers and relaxes slightly as recognition sets in. "My...my leg," he mumbles, his voice slurred from the anesthesia. Karen nods, her thumb brushing his knuckles. "They fixed it. You had surgery. You're going to be okay." Plankton tries to move, but the weight of the cast stops him. "What...happened?" The doctor enters the recovery room. "You had a nasty fall. Do you remember?" Plankton's eye drifts closed, trying to piece together the fragmented moments. The pain, the lights, the sound of his own screams. He nods slightly, the memory firming like concrete in his mind. "We've repaired it. You'll be in this cast for a while, but with rest, you'll be back to normal." Plankton nods again. The doctor nods to Karen. "He'll be sleepy for a bit. We've given him some pain medication." Karen nods. Plankton's eyelid flutters, his gaze unfocused. "Can I... see it?" he asks, his voice slurred by the anesthesia. Karen nods and gently lifts the blanket. The cast, white and pristine, extends from his toes to his hip. "It's going to take some time, but you'll be okay," she repeats, her voice soothing. Plankton's eye focuses on the cast. "It's...big," he murmurs, his voice trailing off as the weight of the medication pulls him back under. His eye droops closed, and his breathing steadies into the rhythmic pattern of sleep. Karen watches his chest rise and fall as they remove the IV. "He'll be in and out of it for a while. It's normal. The body needs rest after surgery." Karen nods, trying to absorb the doctor's words. She's seen people with broken legs before, but never one she loves so much. She thanks the doctor, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's hand moves, his fingers searching for hers. "Karen," he whispers, his voice thick with sleep. Her hand slides into his, squeezing gently. "I'm here," she murmurs, her screen never leaving his peaceful face. The surgery had been a success. The nurse looks to Karen. "I'll get the wheelchair." The chair squeaks into place, and Plankton's eye opens. He looks at Karen, the question in his gaze clear. She nods. "It's time to go home."
#KneeSurgery pt. 2 They maneuver him into the wheelchair, and he winces as his leg meets the firm cushion. The nurse nods sympathetically. "It'll take some getting used to, but you'll manage." She gets his stuffed bear and blanket, placing them carefully in his lap. Plankton leans his head back, his eye drifting closed again as they get crutches. Karen follows the nurse as they navigate the hospital corridors. She's relieved to finally reach the car, helping him in with gentle care. His head lolls to the side as she buckles him in, his snores a testament to the powerful medication. The drive home feels endless. Every bump in the road jolts her nerves, but Plankton remains oblivious, his chest rising and falling evenly. She glances over, his hand resting on the stuffed bear, fingers lax. The house is a silent fortress when they arrive. Karen managed to get him in. He mumbles something incoherent as she helps lift him onto the couch. His eyelid flickers open, and he looks around confused before it closes again. She also leaves the wheelchair near. Pillows are arranged just so, the TV remote within easy reach, and his favorite blanket drapes his legs like a warm embrace. He mumbles a thank you, his eye still half-closed with sleep. Karen makes him comfortable, his head nestled against the pillows. She kisses his forehead. "Rest," she whispers, her voice a soft caress. "I'll be right here." Plankton's snores become more pronounced as Karen sits by his side. Just then, Karen's friend Sandy unexpectedly comes inside. "What happened?" she gasps. Karen smiles weakly. "He's sleepy." Sandy's eyes widen as she takes in the cast and the wheelchair. "What...? Why..." Sandy exclaims. "It's okay," Karen says. "Plankton had an accident. He'll be fine, yet it's going to be a long road to recovery." Sandy nods, a look of concern etching her features. "How can I help?" Karen's eyes fill with gratitude. "Could you... could you stay with him while I make food?" Sandy nods firmly. "Of course." Plankton's snores grow softer as Sandy sits beside him as Karen finishes up a batch of chum. Plankton stirs slightly, his snores quieter now. "Karen," Sandy calls from the living room. "He's waking up." Karen sets the food aside, wiping her hands on a towel as she rushes in. Plankton's eye blinks open, looking around confused. "What's...what's going on?" he mumbles. Karen smiles reassuringly. "You had surgery, Plankton. Do you remembe---" He nods, his eye half-lidded. "I...fell. But when’d she get here?" Plankton said as he recognized Sandy. Karen chuckles softly. "You've been out of it for a bit. She came a bit after you fell asleep." Sandy smiles. "I'm just here to help. What do you need?" Karen's shoulders sag with relief. "Could you help me get his wheelchair? We'll need to eat at the table." Karen guides Plankton. He winces as he lowers himself, his leg still tender and foreign in its cast. They make their way to the dinner table, Sandy right behind them. Karen serves him a steaming plate. He picks at the food, his eye still hazy from the anesthesia. Sandy fills a glass of water, placing it within his reach. "How long...?" Plankton's words trail off as he tries to remember the doctor's instructions. "How long will I be in this...this...thing?" He gestures to the cast, his frustration clear. Karen takes a deep breath, her hand resting on his shoulder. "It's going to be a few weeks, love. But think of it as a chance to rest and recover." She knows he doesn't want to appear helpless. Sandy sits across from Karen and Plankton, curious but tentative, as she knows he can have a fiery temper at times. "So, what happened Plank..." He cuts her off, his voice sharp. "I fell. That's what happened. I don't know much after that." Plankton's frustration is palpable, his eye flashing. Karen squeezes his hand gently, a silent reminder to be patient. Sandy nods, understanding. "Well, ok." Karen watches Plankton's face, and Sandy wants to help. He's tired, his eyelid drooping. But he tries to appear present, to eat with them at the kitchen table with his wheelchair. He takes small bites, his movements careful not to disturb his leg. Karen intercepts Sandy's concerned look. "It's okay," she whispers as Plankton's energy wanes. His head nods forward slightly, and he jerks awake with a snort, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Karen appreciates her friend's support, yet she can see the uncertainty in Sandy's eyes. They both knew Plankton's stubbornness. Sandy clears her throat, changing the subject. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Karen looks at Plankton, his eye half-closed. "We'll take it easy. The doctor said lots of rest." Plankton nods, his head bobbing slightly. "I'll help with the house," Sandy offers, picking up on Karen's unspoken concern. "You guys just focus on...you know, recovering." Karen smiles with gratitude. "Thank you." Plankton nods, his head lolling again as he tries to appear present. But he leans into Karen, his body heavy with exhaustion, head resting on her shoulder, his snores soon filling the room despite still sitting in the wheelchair at the table. Karen and Sandy exchange a look. Gently, Karen lifts Plankton's head, his snores growing deeper with every passing second. "Come on, let's get you to bed," she whispers, her voice a gentle caress in the quiet room. Sandy nods, understanding. They work in tandem, Sandy pushing the wheelchair while Karen supports Plankton's weight. The bedroom is bathed in a soft glow, the curtains drawn against the night. They maneuver him to the bed, his snores punctuating the air. They carefully lift him, his body unyielding from the pain meds, and lay him down. The cast feels heavier than ever, a stark reminder of the ordeal he's just been through. Karen pulls the covers over him, tucking them in gently around his cast, his snores growing louder. Sandy looks at Karen with sympathetic eyes. "You've had quite a day," she says softly. Karen nods. "We both have." Sandy pulls her into a hug. "You're not alone. I'm here."
#KneeSurgery pt. 19 The doctor nods, his eyes scrutinizing the x-ray. "Good," he says, his voice clipped. "It's healing nicely." Plankton lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping slightly. The doctor continues, his voice gentle. "But we'll need to extract the excess glue." Plankton's eye widens. "What!" The doctor holds up a hand. "It's common, nothing to worry about. All do is drain the excess glue. It'll help reduce the pressure and discomfort." Plankton's antennae wave in distress. "How?" he asks, his voice high-pitched. Hanna and Karen exchange worried glances. The doctor explains, his tone reassuring. "It's a simple procedure," he says, his claws gesturing to the medical tools laid out before them. "We'll just remove your cast and then we go in with a small instrument to drain the excess glue." Plankton's breathing speeds up, his antennae twitching rapidly. "But what if it hurts?" he asks, his voice high-pitched. The doctor nods understandingly. "We'll put you under general anesthesia like last time, Mr. Plankton. You won't feel a thing." Karen nods, her face a mask of calm. "Okay," Plankton whispers, his eyes darting between Karen and the doctor, his voice shaking. They wheel him into the operating room, Hanna waiting out in a chair as Karen follows Plankton in. The room was cold, the smell of disinfectant sharp in his tiny nose. His leg was propped up, the cast looking like a monolith in the stark, white room. The doctor's face loomed over him, a mask obscuring his expression. "You're going to feel sleepy now, Mr. Plankton," he said, his voice distant. "Count backwards from twenty." Plankton managed a nod, his voice slurring. "T-twenty," he slurred. "Nineteen." His eyelid began to droop, his words slurring more with each number. "Eigh-" his voice trailed off as the world grew fuzzy. His head lolled to the side, his antennae coming to rest on the pillow. And with that, Plankton was asleep, his breaths evening out. The doctor nodded to the nurse, who smiled gently. "He's under," she confirmed, monitoring his vitals. Karen squeezed his hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton," she whispered. Hanna stood at the edge of the room, her eyes filled with concern as she watched the medical staff prepare for the procedure. The surgery was swift, the doctor's claws sure as they worked to remove the cast and extract the excess glue with syringes. Plankton slept through it all, his body completely relaxed as Karen held his hand. Hanna waited outside as they finished. When it was done, the doctor replaced the cast with a bandage wrapped around the leg. "He'll be fine," the doctor told Karen, his voice matter-of-fact. "The anesthesia should wear off soon. We'll keep an eye on him as he wakes up." They wheeled Plankton into recovery, his body still and his chest rising and falling with even breaths. Karen stayed by his side, her hand in his. Hanna follows them. His recovery room was quiet. Plankton was out like a light, his antennae still and his tiny body completely relaxed against the pillows. Karen sat next to him, her hand still holding his. Hanna hovered near the door, watching. Karen leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "You know, Plankton, you've got more heart than you let on," she said, her eyes filled with admiration. "You're so strong, going through this." Hanna smiled at the tender moment. The doctor cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting from serious to slightly amused. "Now, before he wakes up, I should mention that the sedative can have some funny effects on his brain. It's perfectly normal," he assured them, his eyes twinkling behind his mask. "He might say or do things that seem out of character." Karen nodded, her grip on Plankton's hand not wavering. "What kind of things?" Hanna asked, her curiosity piqued. "Well, it's difficult to predict," the doctor said, his tone lightening. "Some patients become extremely chatty, others may be a little loopy. He might say things he doesn't normally say or do things that are out of his character." Karen smiled slightly, thinking of Plankton's usual demeanor. "But don't worry," the doctor assured them. "It's all part of the process. He'll be back to his usual self shortly." A line of drool had formed at the corner of his mouth. Karen couldn't help but smile at the sight. "Look at him," Hanna whispered. "He looks so innocent when he's out cold." Karen reached over with a tissue and carefully wiped his mouth. "He's going to hate that when he wakes up," she mused. Hanna chuckled, her eyes still on him. "It's kind of cute, though," she said. Yet Plankton remained oblivious, his chest rising and falling evenly as they waited for the sedative to wear off. Minutes ticked by, their conversation keeping the silence at bay. The doctor's words hung in the air like a teaser to an unpredictable joke. What would Plankton say or do when he woke up?
#KneeSurgery pt. 22 Hanna emerged from the guest room, her eyes red from crying. She saw Plankton asleep on the couch and felt a pang of sadness. Her steps were quiet as she approached, not wanting to disturb him. Carefully, she reached over and adjusted the pillow under his cast, trying to make him as comfortable as possible without waking him. His snores grew quieter, his body sinking into the cushions. "Let him rest," Karen whispered as she smiled at Hanna's gesture. When Plankton next wakes up from his nap he got his crutches and maneuvered himself down the hall. He heard some laughter from the guest room, and decided to eavesdrop, his antennae twitching as he listened. "He's so stubborn," Karen chuckled. "But that's one of the many things I love about him." Hanna giggled. "You have to admit, though, his post-surgery ramblings were pretty entertaining." Plankton felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, his ego bruised. He had forgotten about the possible loopy influence of the anesthesia. He listened closer, peering through the slightly open door. "He thought the lamp was a jellyfish! I've never seen him so out of it," Karen says. Plankton's eye narrowed then Hanna spoke again. "And the way he talked about his 'leg stand' like it was a lost artifact!" Hanna laughs, her voice light and carefree. "But the car ride home... I can't believe he said 'Hanna you look okay today but don't tell my wife Karen' I just..." Plankton's face burns with embarrassment as he hears them recount his delirious moments. He shifts his weight on his crutches, trying to decide whether to confront them or retreat back to the living room. He didn't recall any of it. "And the snoring!" Hanna mimics his snores, her voice nasally and loud, causing Karen to burst into laughter. "Oh I'm not tired!" She mimics as she once again makes snorish sounds and snorts as Karen tried not to laugh. "And with his mouth all... open; never seen anything so pathetic.." Hanna says, when Plankton backed up with his crutches his one eye glistening with unshed tears with a squeaky inhale, alerting both of them. They both froze, Hanna's hand covering her mouth. Plankton stood there for a moment, his face red and his heart racing before simply shaking his head. Without a word, he went into his own room, slamming the door. The silence that fell was deafening, and Karen's laughter quickly turned into a worried frown. She hurried after him, her eyes darting to their bedroom door, where Plankton had slammed it. "Plankton, wait," she called out, her voice gentle but firm. She knew he was upset, but she had to talk to him. Hanna's laughter faded away, her eyes wide with shock. "I-I didn't mean to upset him," she stuttered, her voice filled with remorse. "It was just our joke, I didn't think..." Karen placed a reassuring hand on Hanna's shoulder. "It's okay, Hanna. He's just sensitive right now. Let me talk to him." With a nod, Hanna stepped aside, allowing Karen to pass. Karen knocked gently on the closed door, her heart beating fast. "Plankton, can we talk?" she called, her tone soothing. The room remained silent for a few moments, then the door slowly creeaked open. Plankton was sitting on the edge of their bed, his crutches propped against the nightstand. His eye was red and puffy, and he looked up at her with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "I'm sorry," Karen began, sitting down next to him. "I know you're upset." "How could you let her laugh at me?" Plankton snapped, his voice shaking. "After everything I've been through?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "It's not like that, sweetie," she soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We weren't laughing at you, we were laughing with each other about the silly things you said when you were out of it." "Karen, that's laughing at me!" Plankton's voice was tight with pain, and not just from his leg. The thought that they had been mocking him was too much. He had always been the butt of everyone's joke, and now, when he was at his most vulnerable, it felt like his own wife and friends were joining in. Karen sighed, moving closer to him. "Plankton, you know we'd never do that. We care about you to much. We were just trying to find some humor in a difficult situation." He looked away, his antennae drooping. "I know, I know," he murmured. "It's just that... I don't like being seen as weak." Karen nodded, understanding. "I get that. But you're not weak for needing help. You're strong for admitting when you do. And we're here for you, no matter what." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're still the same Plankton to us." Hanna hovered outside the doorway, listening intently. Her heart felt heavy with regret. She hadn't meant to hurt his feelings. It had been a misstep, a poor attempt to find lightness in the heavy situation. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open a crack. "Plankton," she called softly. "Ca--" "I don't want to talk to you right now," Plankton said, his voice tight. Hanna's face fell, the rejection stinging. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I really didn't mean to upset you. I was just trying to make li—" "You're always trying," Plankton snapped, cutting her off. "I can't even stand up without these crutches," he said, tearing up. "And you're in there, laughing about it?!" "Plankton, please," Hanna pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears. "We weren't laughing at you. We were just... trying to make the best of a bad situation. You know that." But Plankton was too hurt to hear reason. His pride was bruised, and the idea that his vulnerability was a source of amusement for others was unbearable. "I don't want you here," he said, his voice shaking. "I can't stand the sight of you." Hanna's heart shattered at his words. She had only wanted to help, to make him feel better, but instead, she had managed to wound him deeper. She took a step back, her cheeks flushing with shame. "I'm sor—" But Plankton interrupted again. "I said I don't want to talk," he said through gritted teeth. "Just... just leave me alone." With that, he swung his legs off the bed, grabbing his crutches. The pain shot through his leg like a lightning bolt, but he ignored it, determined to stand. Hanna took another step back, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Karen squeezed her hand, giving her a comforting look. "Give him some space, Hanna," she whispered. "He'll calm down." Hanna nodded, her throat tight with unspoken apologies. As Plankton stood, Karen quickly helped adjust his crutches, her expression a mix of concern and pity. "Let's go to the living room," she suggested, guiding him carefully. Plankton hobbled along. Once they were settled again, the tension in the room was palpable. Hanna hovered in the doorway, uncertain of how to apologize or make things right. Her eyes met Plankton's, his normally sharp gaze clouded by pain and hurt. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper. He didn't acknowledge her. Instead, he turned his attention to Karen as they sat on the couch. "What's the plan for today?" he asked, his voice still gruff but trying to sound normal. Karen looked at him for a moment, weighing her words before answering. "Well, you need to stay off that leg as much as possible. So maybe just some rest, and I'll get you set up with a nice little area right here." Hanna stood silently in the corner, her arms folded across her chest. Plankton's words from earlier still stung, and she was unsure if she should offer to help or give him the space he had demanded. She noticed the way his antennae twitched every time he shifted his weight on the crutches, the pain clearly visible on his face.
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#KneeSurgery pt. 21 The next morning, Plankton stirred, his eye opening slowly. The sunlight streamed in through the living room windows, highlighting the bandage around his leg. He blinked a few times, his memory of the previous day coming back in fuzzy fragments. He looked down at the crutches by his side, his mind piecing together the events. "What happened?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. Karen emerged from the kitchen, seeing him awake. She smiled warmly. "How's the leg today?" she asked, approaching the couch. Hanna, who was already up, had sat down on the other couch. Plankton looked around, his gaze landing on his crutches. "It's... fine," he said, his voice groggy. He tried to sit up, but the pain shot through his leg, causing him to yelp. Hanna jumped up, rushing over to help support him. "Oh, be ca---" "I don't need your help," he snapped, his frustration boiling over. Karen watched the exchange with a knowing look. She knew his pride could be stubborn. "What happened?" he repeated, his antennae twitching with agitation. "Where's my... where's my...?" "Your cast," Karen finished for him. "It's off. The doctor replaced it with a bandage." Plankton frowned. "Why don't I recall..." "It's the medication," Hanna said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "It m-" "Don't tell me what I know," Plankton snapped, his voice sharp. Hanna took a step back, surprise etched on her features. "I just... I just wanted t---" "I don't need you telling me what I know about my own body," he continued, his eye narrowing. Hanna sighed, knowing his pride was wounded. "Plank-" "Let's not fight, you two," Karen interrupted, her tone firm but kind. Plankton looked away, his antennas drooping. "I just... I just don't remember," he mumbled, his voice smaller. Hanna knelt beside him, her expression softening. "You were under anesthesia, remember?" she said gently. "You might not remember much from the sur—" "I know what happened," Plankton snapped, his eye flashing with something that wasn't quite anger, but rather desperation. "Don't baby me, Hanna. Just... don't." Hanna's mouth dropped open, surprised by his harshness. "Plankton, I-I-I-I…" He cut her off, his voice getting louder. "I don't need you to tell me what I felt or what I said. It's my leg, my surgery!" Hanna took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. "Okay, okay," she said, her hands up in surrender. "I'm just trying to he-" But Plankton was already getting worked up. "Can't you just leave me alone?" he barked, his frustration mounting. Hanna stood her ground, her eyes filled with a mix of surprise and sadness. "I'm only trying to help," Hanna said. "You're still weak from the surgery." Despite trying to tell him to take it easy, the word 'weak' hit Plankton. Hard. "I don't want you here," he said coldly, his voice eerily calm. Hanna's eyes widened, hurt shimmering in them. "Plankton, I'm not leaving, but w---" "You heard me," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "I don't need you." Hanna swallowed hard, trying to hold back tears. "But you're still recovering," she whispered. "I can't just leave you." Plankton's eye narrowed. "I said I don't want you here," he repeated, his voice like a knife. "You don't get to decide that, Hanna. You've already done enough." "But I--" "I said I DON'T WANT YOU HERE! Just get out." Hanna stood there, stunned by his words. She felt as though she'd been slapped in the face. Tears threatened to spill, but she held them back, her chest tight with hurt. Karen stepped in, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hanna, maybe we should give him some space," she suggested, her voice calm. Hanna's eyes flitted to Karen's, searching for understanding. "He's feeling vulnerable," Karen explained gently. "The surgery, the recovery... it's all taking a toll on his pride. He's used to being the one who's in control, and right now, he's not. It's hard for him to accept help." Hanna nodded, though her eyes were still misty. "I just want to help," she murmured. Karen's gaze softened. "I know you do, Hanna. And you've been wonderful. But sometimes, when we offer help, it can accidentally make someone feel weaker." "I didn't mean to do that," Hanna said, her voice small. Karen gave her a comforting squeeze. "I know. But think about it from his perspective. He's always been so independent, so strong-willed. Now, he's stuck in a situation where he can't do everything himself. It's a blow to his ego." Hanna nodded slowly, understanding beginning to dawn on her. "But I was just trying to make sure he's okay. I didn't mean to say he's we-" "I know you didn't," Karen interjected quickly. "But to Plankton, those words might feel like you're questioning his strength." She paused, letting that sink in. "He's always been the one to pull himself up by his own bootstraps, figuratively speaking," she continued. "This whole experience has been a stark reminder that he's not as invincible as he'd like to believe." Hanna took a deep breath, nodding. "I see," she said finally. They watched as Plankton tried to shift his weight on the couch, his bandaged leg clearly causing discomfort. Hanna felt a pang of guilt for upsetting him, albeit unintentionally. With a heavy heart, she turned and headed towards their guest room, giving him the space as requested. The hallway felt cooler without his snappy retorts and quick wit. She knew his words were driven by pain and frustration, but they still stung. Once inside the guest room, Hanna sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the closed door. The silence was deafening, her thoughts racing. She hadn't meant to make Plankton feel weak, only to assist him in his time of need. It was clear, though, that she had inadvertently stepped on a sensitive area, one she had overlooked due to her own eagerness to support. In the living room, Karen walked over to Plankton, his breaths still heavy with frustration. "You know she didn't mean anything by it," she said softly. "She's just worried about you." Plankton's antennae twitched. "I know," he said gruffly. "But I can't have her seeing me like this." Karen sat down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're not weak, Plankton," she assured him. "You're just... Plankton. And it's okay to take it easy." He sighed, his body slumping into the couch. "I know it's just... I don't like being dependent on others." Karen nodded. "I know, baby. And you'll still always be the Plankton I fell in love with. Your my charming, clever, albeit tiny, troublemaker of a husband, and nothing changes that." He leaned into her, his expression softening. "Thanks, Karen," he murmured. Karen kissed his forehead. "Now, let's get you set up with some pain meds, okay?" Plankton nodded, his antennae drooping slightly. Karen returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and a small plastic cup holding his pills. She handed them to him carefully, her expression a mixture of concern and love as he took them. As the medication took effect, the pain in his leg began to ease. Plankton's eye started to droop, his body relaxing into the cushions. Karen pulled a soft blanket over him, his snores soon filling the room.
#KneeSurgery pt. 23 "I can bring you some water, or maybe a snack?" Hanna ventured timidly. Plankton didn't look up from the book he had open in his hand. "I don't need anything," he muttered. "I've got Karen." The implication was clear: he didn't want Hanna's help. Hanna's heart dropped, but she swallowed her pride. "Okay," she said, her voice small. "If you c-" "Actually," Karen interrupted, "Could you help me in the kitchen?" Her tone was carefully neutral, but Hanna could read the silent plea in her eyes. She nodded, grateful for something to do, and followed Karen into the kitchen. Once they were out of earshot, Karen turned to face her. "Look, Hanna, Plankton's just going through a tough time," she said gently. "His pride is on the line here, and he's not used to being so dependent on others. Give him some time, okay?" Hanna nodded, wiping at her eyes. "But I just want to help," she murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know what I did wrong." Karen gave her a sad smile. "You didn't do anything wrong, Hanna. He's just... struggling." Hanna nodded, understanding but still feeling the weight of his words. "I know," she said. "But it hurt-" Karen interrupted with a firm but gentle tone. "You can't take it personally. He's in pain, and his pride is bruised. What he needs right now is time to process and heal." Hanna nodded, wiping her eyes. "But what can I do?" she asked. "How do I make it right?" Karen squeezed her hand. "Just be there for him," she said. "And maybe give him some grace. Let him come to you." Hanna nodded, wiping her cheeks. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll try." They returned to the living room, where Plankton was with his leg propped up. He didn't look at them. Hanna took a seat on the floor near the couch, picking up a magazine to flip through. The silence was stifling, but she respected his wish for space. Karen went about the room, adjusting pillows, getting him a blanket, and making sure his water was within reach. She glanced at Hanna frequently, her expressions speaking louder than words. "Thanks, Karen," Plankton murmured after a while, his voice softer. Hanna took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Is there anyth—" But Plankton interrupted again, his voice sharp. "I don't want anything from you," he said. Her heart sank, but she swallowed her hurt. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll just be here." But Plankton read his book, his face a mask of concentration. Hanna pretended to be engrossed in her magazine, but her eyes kept straying to him. The minutes ticked by, each second feeling like an eternity. Karen moved around the room, her movements careful and quiet, trying not to disturb the fragile peace. The silence was so heavy, it felt like it was pressing down on all of them, no words were exchanged. Hanna's magazine lay unread on her lap, her thoughts whirling. She desperately wanted to apologize, to make it right, but she knew she had to follow Karen's advice. Give him space, let him be. Plankton turned the last page of his book in the tense silence. With a heavy sigh, he set the book aside. His antennae twitched. He looked over at Hanna, who was staring at the floor. "Look, I can't have you thinking I'm weak." Hanna nods, her voice small. "You're not weak. You're just... recovering." Plankton's eye softened slightly. "I know," he said. "But I need you to see me as... capable. I can't have you looking at me with pity." "I don't pity you," Hanna said quickly, meeting his gaze. "I just want you to be okay." But Plankton wasn't convinced. His antennae drooped as he leaned back into the couch. "I know you mean well, Hanna," he sighed. "But sometimes your help feels like you think I can't do anything for myself." Hanna felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "That's not what I meant," she said. "I'm sorry." Karen looked between them, silence hanging heavy in the air. "Maybe we all just need to talk about it," she suggested. Plankton's antennae twitched again, but he didn't argue. He knew his behavior had been unkind, but his pride was still smarting. "Why do you want to talk about it?" he asked warily. Hanna took a deep breath, swiping at a stray tear. "Because I care about you," she said simply. "And I don't want to do anything that makes you feel small or weak. I just want to do the right thing for you." Karen nodded in agreement. "We're both just trying to navigate this new situation," she said. "And sometimes Hanna might mess up." Plankton's expression softened slightly. "I know you're trying," he admitted to Hanna. Plankton sighs. "But no more laughing about it." Hanna nodded quickly. "I understand," she said. "I'll be more sensitive next time." Karen sat down next to Plankton, taking his hand in hers. "We all need to learn to be there for each other in different ways," she said. "We're all a little out of practice with this." Plankton nodded, his gaze drifting back to Hanna. He knew she had his best interest at heart, but it was still difficult to swallow his pride. "I'll try to communicate better," he murmured. Hanna looked up at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. Karen cleared her throat gently. "Why don't we start with some exercises? The doctor said you can start anytime." she suggested, breaking the tense silence. Plankton's eye widened slightly, but he didn't protest. Hanna looked relieved, eager to help in a way that was truly beneficial. The three of them moved to the living room floor. "Let's start with some simple leg lifts," Karen said, demonstrating the motion. "It'll help with your strength and flexibility." Plankton grimaced but complied, his tiny legs shaking slightly as he lifted the one with the bandage. Hanna watched carefully, her face filled with concern, reaching out to steady his leg. "Not so fast, Hanna," Karen chided gently. "Let him do it himself." Hanna quickly withdrew her hand, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She felt like she was always stepping on his toes, literally and figuratively. Plankton managed a few halfhearted lifts before his leg dropped back to the floor. "See?" Karen said, her voice kind. "It's about building strength slowly." Plankton grunted but nodded, his face contorted with effort. "Let's try again," Karen coached, placing a pillow under his leg for support. This time, Plankton was able to lift his leg a little higher. "Good job," Hanna encouraged, her voice soft and encouraging. "I can see you're getting stronger already." Plankton gritted his teeth and managed a few more lifts before his leg gave out again. "Remember, it's about pacing yourself," Karen reminded him. "We don't want to push too hard too soon. The exercises are optional, they said." Plankton nodded, his face a mask of determination. "I know," he grunted, his small body shaking with the effort. "But I have to try." Hanna could see the exhaustion settling into his eye. He was so tired.. "Take a break," Hanna suggested gently. Plankton looked at her with a mix of gratitude and frustration. "Fine," he agreed, letting his leg fall back to the pillow with a sigh. Karen helped Plankton back to the couch, his crutches clattering as she guided his weight. His eye searched Hanna's face for any sign of pity, but found none. She was watching him with concerned respect. "Thanks, Karen," he murmured once he was comfortably propped up again. Hanna took a seat across from them, her hands clasped tightly in her lap tentatively. The room was quiet as Plankton caught his breath. The exertion had tired him more than he cared to admit. He closed his eye, his antennae twitching slightly. Karen sat beside him, her hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Hanna watched from afar, her heart heavy with remorse. She longed to comfort him, but knew she had to give him the space he needed, as Plankton leaned his head back into the couch cushion. Slowly, his breathing evened out, and his body grew slack. His eye closed completely, and within minutes, his snores filled the room. Hanna exchanged a glance with Karen, who gave a small smile. They both knew that his nap was a sign of his exhaustion but also of his body's need to heal. The tension seemed to ease slightly with each snore that rattled from his tiny mouth. Hanna took this opportunity to approach the couch, her movements careful not to disturb his sleep. She retrieved the throw pillow from the floor and gently placed it under his leg. Then she sat down next to Karen, her hand reaching out to cover hers. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Karen squeezed her hand back. "It's okay, he'll come around." The two of them sat in silence, watching Plankton sleep. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his snores a comforting sound.
#KneeSurgery pt. 16 The following morning, Hanna is the first to stir, carefully rising from the couch. She pads down the hallway, her footsteps quiet so as not to disturb anyone. Her eyes catch the open door to Karen and Plankton's room, and she peers in, seeing Karen has just woken up. Plankton's sleeping soundly in his own bed, his cast sticking out from under the covers as he snores softly. "He's okay," Karen whispers, noticing Hanna's concern. Hanna nods, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I know," she whispers back. "But I just...wanted to check." Karen smiles, patting the bed next to her. "Why don't you sit down?" she says. "We can talk." Hanna sits, her eyes fixed on Plankton's sleeping form. His casted leg is propped on a pillow, and his antennae twitch slightly, as if he's dreaming. "So, how do we help him?" Hanna asks, her voice still hushed. Karen sighs. "We give him space and let him come to us," she says. "But we also need to be ready when he does want help." Hanna nods, thinking. "What was the surgery like?" she whispers. Karen smiles sadly. "It was a complicated one," she says. "They had to use bone glue to reattach his leg." Hanna's eyes widen. "Bone glue?" she repeats, her voice filled with horror. "It's a thing," Karen assures her. "It's not as scary as it sounds. They're just taking extra precautions to ensure he heals properly." Her curiosity still piqued, Hanna can't help but ask more. "What was it like when he was under?" she says, her voice barely a breath. Karen's expression turns serious. "It's a delicate procedure," she explains. "They had to make sure he was completely numb to the pain. That's why he was asleep." Hanna nods, swallowing hard. "But how?" she asks, looking back at Plankton. "They used general anesthesia." Hanna's eyes widen even more. "And what did he look like?" Karen sighs, knowing that Hanna's questions are a way for her to process what happened. "He was unconscious," she says. "They monitored him the whole time to make sure he was okay. As they first started the anesthesia as it kicked in, I knew Plankton was asleep as his breathing evened out and his movements stopped. It was...peaceful," she adds, her voice trailing off. "And upon waking up, I was there to help him understand." Hanna nods, taking this in. "And what was it like when he woke up?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper. Karen looks at Hanna, her gaze filled with compassion. "He was confused at first," she says. "But I explained everything to him." Hanna nods, still staring at Plankton. "How do we talk to him?" she asks. "What can I do to make him comfortable?" Karen pauses, thinking. "Just be yourself," she suggests. "But maybe a little more...gentle. He's dealing with a lot of pain and frustration. Try not to take his snaps personally." Hanna nods, her eyes still on Plankton. "What else?" she whispers. "Well," Karen says, leaning in closer. "You could ask before doing, and just maybe not push so hard or make it to obvious that you're trying to help." Hanna nods, processing the advice. "And when he gets frustrated, what should I do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen smiles gently. "Just be there," she says. "Let him know you care without smothering him. Give him space to express his feelings, even if they're not pretty." In the quiet of the room, they both watch as Plankton stirs in his sleep. His antennas twitch, and his casted leg shifts slightly. "Is he okay?" she whispers. "Yes, he's just waking up," Karen says, standing carefully. "Let's give him some space." Hanna nods, getting to her feet as she leaves Karen and Plankton's bedroom. In the living room, she sits and takes deep breaths, trying to compose herself. She hears a shuffling noise from the hallway and Plankton hobbles in on his crutches, his cast a stark white. He lowers himself carefully onto the couch. "Morning," she says tentatively. He looks up, but doesn't respond. Hanna's heart aches, but she follows Karen's advice and doesn't push. Instead, she goes to the kitchen, preparing a glass of chum juice. When she brings it back, Plankton nods in thanks. They sit in silence for a moment before Hanna finally speaks. "I'm sorry for last night," she says softly. "I didn't mean to make you upset." Plankton looks at her, his expression unreadable. He takes a sip of his chum juice, the silence stretching between them. "I'll try to be more considerate," she says. Plankton sighs, leaning back into the couch as Karen comes in. "How's everyone doing?" she asks, forcing cheer into her voice. Plankton shrugs. "I'm okay," he says, his tone noncommittal. Karen exchanges a look with Hanna. "Why don't we watch something to keep our minds off things?" she suggests. The TV flickers to life, and the sound of laugh track fills the room. Plankton shifts uncomfortably, his cast a reminder of his new reality. Hanna sits next to him, keeping her distance but still close enough to be there if needed. Karen sits on the other side of him. They watch a sitcom, the laughter echoing in the quiet room. Plankton tries to concentrate, but his thoughts drift to his surgery, his leg, his new limitations. His antennae droop, and he takes a deep breath. Hanna notices his discomfort and shifts closer. "Do you want me to get you anything?" she asks quietly. Plankton's eye flits to her, and for a moment, he considers snapping again. But he swallows it down. "No," he says, his voice gruff. They continue to watch the TV, the forced laughter a stark contrast to the tension in the room. Karen clears her throat. "Why don't I get you your meds?" Plankton nods, his antennae drooping. "That'd be great," he mumbles. Hanna watches as Karen tends to him.
#KneeSurgery pt. 18 "What are you guys doing here?" he asked, his voice still gruff but with a hint of confusion. Sponge Bob smiled, his thumb still tracing the edge of Plankton's cast. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay," he said. Plankton's antennae twitched. "I'm fine," he said, his tone gruff. Karen stood up, her movements smooth and efficient. "Why don't we get you into your chair?" she suggested, picking up his crutches. Plankton nodded, his movements slow and deliberate as he carefully swung his casted leg over the side of the couch. With a grunt, he hoisted himself up, balancing on his good leg. Patrick watched, his eyes wide with interest. "Look at him go," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "It's like he's learning to walk all over again like a wittle baby." Plankton shot Patrick a glare, his face flushing with embarrassment. "I'm not a baby!" he snapped, his voice echoing in the quiet living room. "Patrick, that's not helping," Hanna whispered, trying not to laugh. Sponge Bob's expression was one of shock. "Patrick, that's not nice," he admonished gently. Patrick scrunched his face up in confusion. "But he looks like one," he said, his voice innocent. Plankton huffed. "No, I'm not!" But Patrick's on a roll. "You know what else babies have?" he said, his voice rising. "Naps!" Plankton's face grew redder, his antennae twitching with anger. "Patrick," Hanna warned, but Patrick was on a roll. "Hey, Plankie, you need help while you're all broken. Wa-a-agh, wa-a-agh!" The room fell silent. Plankton stared at Patrick, his single eye twitching. "That's it," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I guess I'll just have to take naps like a baby now." Hanna could see the hurt in his eye. With a quick motion, Plankton set down his crutches and stood up, hopping on one foot. Without another word, he turned and limped away, his casted leg thumping against the floor with each step as he headed towards his bedroom. The group watched, stunned, as he closed the door behind him with a slam. Hanna's laughter died in her throat, replaced by a look of horror. "Oh no," she whispered. Karen sighed, setting down the magazines. "I'll go talk to him," she said firmly. But before she could move, they heard sobs from behind the door. Her heart aching, she knocked softly. "Plankton, are you okay?" The sobs grew louder, and she exchanged worried glances with Sponge Bob and Patrick, who looked equally mortified. "I'll go," Sponge Bob volunteered, standing up. He approached the door, his steps tentative. "Plankton, buddy, it's me," he said gently. "Can I come in?" The sobbing subsided for a moment before Plankton's voice, muffled by the door, replied, "I don't want to see any of you right now." The words hit Hanna like a brick, her chest tightening with sadness. Sponge Bob looked back at them, his expression pained. He shrugged helplessly before sitting back down. Patrick's face fell. "I didn't mean to make him cry," he said, his voice small. Hanna nodded, her eyes still on the closed door. "We know you didn't, Patrick," she said, trying to comfort him. "But sometimes words can hurt, even if we don't mean them to." Sponge Bob placed a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "We'll apologize later," he said firmly. "But right now, let's just give him some space." They both left, the only sound being Plankton's muted sobs. Karen stood, her heart heavy with disappointment at his pain. She moved to the door, wanting to comfort Plankton but respecting his request for solitude. Her hand hovered above the knob, unsure of what to do. Through the crack in the door, she could see Plankton's form hunched over his bed, his tiny fists clenched. His sobs grew quieter, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. Karen's chest tightened, watching his vulnerability. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open, moving slowly towards the bed. "Plankton," she said softly, her voice soothing. He looked up, his eye red and swollen. "I just want to check on you," she said, her tone gentle. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I'm here." He nodded, his antennae drooping. Karen sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb his cast. "You've been through a lot," she said, her voice soft. "It's okay to feel upset." Plankton's chest heaved, his sobs growing softer. "But you know, tomorrow we have that appointment with the doctor," Karen reminded him gently. "They'll check how your leg's doing, make sure everything's on track. And Hanna is coming along, as her home is still under repair." Plankton sniffled, his eye still wet. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled, his voice small. Karen smiled gently. "But you don't have to push yourself too hard. You're still healing." The next morning, Karen gets out of bed early, the sun not yet fully risen outside. She can hear Plankton's snores as she sneaks past his bed. Hanna stirs in the guest room, waking up. "How's he doing?" she asks, coming into their room. "Asleep," Karen whispers. "Let's get ready for his appointment." Hanna nods. "What time is it?" "Five thirty," Karen says, glancing at her clock. "We have to leave in a moment." Plankton's snores grow softer. Hanna looks at Karen, who's gathering his crutches. "Should we wake him?" Karen nods. "We have to. The doctor wanted us there early to check the cast." They tiptoe over to Plankton's bedside. Karen places a hand on his shoulder. "Plankton, sweetie," she says gently. "Time to wake up." His snores stop abruptly, and his single eye snaps open. "What's going on?" he croaks, his voice rough from sleep. Hanna smiles tentatively. "We have an appointment with the doctor," Karen reminds him, helping him sit up. "We need to get going." Plankton groans, his casted leg thumping against the bedframe. "Okay, okay," he says, rubbing his eye. Karen loaded his wheelchair into the back as Plankton used his crutches to get in the car. The drive was quiet, each of them lost in their thoughts. Plankton was nervous about the doctor's visit, his leg throbbing with each bump in the road. Hanna sat beside him. When they arrived at the hospital, the waiting room was deserted except for the receptionist, who gave them a knowing smile. "Mr. Plankton," she said, her voice cheerful. "Right this way." Plankton grimaced as he wheeled himself in. The doctor, a stern-looking crab, took one look at his cast and said, "Ah, yes. Your appointment. Let's have a look." Setting up the x-ray, the doctor turns to Plankton, his expression professional. "You've got quite the cast," he says, eyeing it curiously. Plankton nods, gritting his teeth as he lifts his leg up onto the examination table. Karen's hand rests on his shoulder, offering silent support. The doctor taps the cast. "How's the pain?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Better," he says, his voice strained. Karen squeezes his shoulder. Hanna, seated beside Karen, holds her hand.
#KneeSurgery pt. 17 When Karen returns, she hands him the pill and a glass of water. Plankton takes them without a word, swallows hard, and sets the glass down. The medication doesn't kick in right away, but his expression eases slightly. Hanna watches from the corner of her eye. Plankton shifts, his cast knocking against her side. Hanna moves back slightly. "What do you wanna watch?" she asks, trying to fill the void. He shrugs. "How about we find something we can all enjoy?" Karen suggests, settling on a movie with a mix of action and humor. They watch in silence, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. As the movie plays, Plankton's eyelid starts to droop, the medication finally taking hold. Without realizing it, his head slowly slumps to the side, until it's resting on Hanna's shoulder. Hanna freezes. Her heart thumps in her chest. This is a moment she never expected. She glances at Karen, whose expression is a mix of amusement and sympathy. Karen nods slightly, and Hanna understands the silent message: let him be. The movie plays on, the sound of explosions and laughter filling the room. But all Hanna can focus on is the warmth of Plankton's head on her shoulder. His breathing steadies into a soft snore, and she can't help but smile. Her arm is pinned awkwardly, but she doesn't dare move. Instead, she adjusts her position slightly, trying to find comfort without disturbing him. Karen notices, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, and she whispers, "Let him sleep. He needs it." Plankton's head remained nestled on Hanna's shoulder, his antennae twitching slightly with each snore. Hanna felt a warmth spread through her, despite the awkwardness. She looked over at him, his face relaxed in sleep. Plankton's snores were deep and even, his body completely relaxed against Hanna, his mouth agape. Karen chuckled quietly. "Looks like he's out for the count," she whispered. Hanna nodded, her smile widening. She didn't move an inch, afraid of waking him. They watched the movie in silence, the comfort of Plankton's weight on her shoulder growing familiar. Karen put a finger to her lips, shushing her. As the credits started to roll, Hanna glanced at Plankton again as she reached for the remote, hitting the off button to avoid waking him. Karen chuckled, seeing Hanna's concern. "I think he's out cold," she whispered. Hanna swallowed a laugh, her eyes twinkling. Karen stood. "Let's get him comfortable," she whispered. Together, they managed to lift his casted leg and place it on the ottoman. Hanna carefully shifted his head to a pillow, his snores barely changing pitch. Plankton moved slightly, his snores grew little louder as his head found the cushion. Hanna couldn't resist a soft giggle, which caused Plankton to shuffle slightly but not wake. Karen shot her a look that clearly said 'not another sound'. They both settled in, exhaustion from the long night still lingering. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of morning light, the curtains filtering the brightness. Plankton's chest moved up and down in a steady rhythm, his snores fading as he moved deeper into sleep. Hanna couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for her earlier actions. But as she watched his peaceful expression, she knew she had to make amends. Karen nudged her. "Why don't you sit with him for a bit?" she suggested. Hanna nodded, swapping places with Karen. She sat carefully, making sure not to disturb his sleep. His breathing was even, and she could see the exhaustion etched on his face. She studied his features, feeling a surge of compassion. Plankton wasn't just a nemesis or a challenge; he was someone in pain, someone who needed support. Hanna vowed to be more considerate, more sensitive to his feelings. Her eyes drifted to his cast, the stark white a contrast to the soft pillow. It was a stark reminder of his vulnerability. Hanna's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. She turned to see SpongeBob peeking his head inside. He saw Plankton sleeping and his expression changed to one of concern. "How's he doing?" he asked in a low voice. Karen smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. "He's okay," she whispered. "Just sleeping." Sponge Bob padded over to the couch, his eyes on Plankton. "Can I sit?" he asked Hanna, his eyes hopeful. She nodded, scooting over to make room. The three of them sat in quiet companionship, each lost in their own thoughts. Sponge Bob reached out a hand, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face, and placed it gently on his cast, his thumb tracing the edge of Plankton's cast. Plankton stirred, his snores becoming softer. Sponge Bob's expression was one of pure empathy, his eyes reflecting the concern he felt for his friend. Hanna watched, touched by the genuine care. The silence was broken by another knock on the door. This time it was Patrick, his face scrunched in confusion. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice low. Karen whispered, "Plankton's sleeping." Patrick's eyes widened, and he looked at the crutches propped against the wall. "Oh," he said, his voice hushed. He sat down on the floor, his gaze following theirs to Plankton. "How'd he get the big white stick on his leg?" Patrick whispered. Hanna and Karen shared a look, then Hanna explained, "It's a cast, Pat. He broke his leg and the doctors put it on to help him heal, remember?" Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still wide. "Oh, right. But why's he sleeping?" "He's taking a nap," Karen said gently. "The medicine makes him tired." Patrick nodded, his eyes still on Plankton. "Can I see?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. Hanna and Karen shared a look, then nodded in unison. "Just be careful," Karen whispered. Patrick crawled closer, his body moving with the grace of a bull in a china shop, despite his intention to be gentle. He studied Plankton's cast with intense interest, his finger poised just above it. "What happens if I to-" Hanna's hand snapped out, stopping him. "Don't touch it," she whispered firmly. Patrick's eyes widened in surprise. "But I just wanted to-" "Patrick," Karen interrupted, her tone gentle but firm. "Plankton's leg is very sore. We have to be careful." He nodded, his face a picture of understanding. "Oh," he said, sitting back on his heels. "Is it gonna fall off?" Hanna and Karen shared a look, their expressions a mix of amusement and concern. "No, Patrick," Hanna said, keeping her voice low. "The cast will stay on until his leg is all better." Patrick nodded slowly, his eyes still glued to Plankton's cast. "Can I tell him I'm sorry?" he asked. Hanna looked at Karen, who nodded. "Yes, you can," she said. "But you'll have to wait until he wakes up." Patrick leaned in, his face just inches from Plankton's as he whispered, "Hey, Plankton. You okay?" Plankton's snores continued unabated. "I think he's comfortable," Hanna said, keeping her voice low. "Let's not wake him." Patrick nodded, his curiosity now focused on the cast. He reached out his hand and tapped it lightly. The sudden contact made Plankton flinch, his eye shooting open. "Whaa-" He took in his surroundings quickly, his eye widening when he saw Hanna, Karen, and Sponge Bob sitting around him. "What's going on!" he croaked, his voice groggy from sleep and pain medication. "You were sleeping," Karen explained, her voice soft. Plankton blinked, his mind fuzzy. "Is the movie over?" "Yes," Hanna said, smiling gently. "You fell asleep, on my sh- I mean, you fell asleep during it." Plankton's gaze shifted to Hanna, his expression uncertain.
#KneeSurgery pt. 14 Hanna wipes her eyes, her voice shaky. "I-I think I should go," she says. Karen stands up, rushing over to her. "No, wait. What happened?" she asks, her concern evident. Hanna sniffs, trying to compose herself. "He just... he doesn't want me here," she manages. Karen's face falls. "I'm sorry," she says, taking Hanna's hand. "He's just in a lot of pain. I know he can be difficult," she says gently. "But he's just scared and frustrated." Hanna nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I know," she says. "But I can't help if he won't let me in." Karen sighs, squeezing her hand. "Give him some time," she advises. "You are staying with us, and we all outta try getting along. I'll go and check on him." With a nod, Hanna releases Karen's hand and sits back down, her thoughts racing. She wonders if she's overstepped or if Plankton will ever accept her help. The silence in the room stretches out, filled only with the ticking of a clock on the wall. Meanwhile, Karen goes to their bedroom door. "Plankton?" she calls out softly. "Can I come in?" There's no answer at first, just the sound of his ragged breathing. She opens the door slowly, finding him sitting on the bed. His antennae are drooped and his eye is red-rimmed. "What?" he says, his voice harsher than he intended. Karen sighs, sitting down beside him. "Hanna's upset," she says simply. Plankton looks away, his antennae twitching. "Good," he says, his tone still icy. "I don't want her here." Karen sighs. "You know she's only trying to help," she says. "And she's not the only one. We all are." Plankton's antennae drop further. "I don't want any of this," he says, his voice smaller. "I don't want to be the one who needs help." Karen sighs, placing a hand on his arm. "But you do," she says gently. "And that's not a bad thing. How's the leg feeling?" Plankton glowers but doesn't pull away. "It hurts," he admits. Karen nods. "I'll get your meds," she says. When she returns, she finds Plankton still sitting there, his gaze fixed on his cast. "Here," she says, handing him the pill bottle. He takes them without a word, swallowing them quickly. Karen sits back down next to him. "You know, sometimes letting people in can make the hard times easier," she says. "Yet it's also fine if you'd like space." She kisses his forehead. "Now, rest.." Plankton's antennae lift slightly. "I don't want to be alone," he admits, his voice barely a whisper. Karen's eyes widen slightly, surprised by his vulnerability. "You don't have to be," she says, taking his hand. "We're all here for you." They sit in silence for a few moments, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. Then, with a sigh, Plankton leans into her, his antennae drooping against her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispers. Karen wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer. "You're welcome," she murmurs. "We're a team." As they sit there, the tension in Plankton's body gradually eases, his breathing slowing down. Karen feels his grip on her hand loosen, his eyelid flicker closed. The fight drains out of him, and he surrenders to sleep. Karen shifts, so he's more comfortable, pulling a blanket over his cast-covered leg. The soft fabric slides over the plaster, and she tucks him in. When she returns to the living room, Hanna's eyes are still red, but she's composed herself. "Is he okay?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen nods, sitting beside her. "He's asleep," she says. "But he's...going through a lot." Hanna nods, her own eyes welling up again. "What can I do to help?" she asks. Karen looks at her, her gaze thoughtful. "Just be patient with him," she advises. "He's not used to being dependent on others." Hanna nods, taking a deep breath. "Okay," she says. "How do you think I can be of help?" Karen smiles. "Just be there," she says. "And maybe find something that doesn't involve...babying him." Hanna nods determinedly. Later, Plankton wakes up, emerging out to the living room where Karen and Hanna sat, hobbling as he navigates with his crutches. "What are we watching?" he asks, his tone softer. They're on the couch, a movie playing on the TV, their heads close together as they whisper about the plot. Karen looks up, her smile genuine. "Just a little something to pass the time," she says, patting the cushion next to Hanna. "You wanna join?" Plankton hesitates, his antennae twitching. Then, with a sigh, he nods, moving towards them. Hanna looks up at him, her smile slightly tentative. "It's an adventure film," she says. "It's got a little of everything." Plankton eases himself onto the couch, his cast thumping against the cushions. He sits between them, his crutches propped against the side. Hanna's eyes dart to him before returning quickly to the television. Karen gives him a side hug, her hand resting comfortably on his shoulder. "Thanks," he murmurs. The film plays, and they sit in relative quiet, the occasional laugh or gasp filling the room. Hanna glances at him every so often. During a particularly intense scene, she reaches for the bowl of popcorn. "Want some?" she asks quietly. Plankton nods, extending his arm. She carefully picks out a few kernels, placing them in his hand. The gesture is small, but it feels like a peace offering. He munches on them, his gaze still on the screen, but his antennae relaxing. Karen notices the ease in the atmosphere and smiles to herself. Maybe this was what they needed, she thinks. As the credits roll, Hanna jumps up, her expression hopeful. "How about we play a game?" she suggests, her voice careful not to disrupt the peace. Plankton looks at her, his eye assessing. "What kind of game?" he asks, his voice still guarded. Hanna stands up. "How about something easy?" she says. "Like charades? It'll keep us entertained without being too strenuous for Plankto-" "I can still think, you know," Plankton snaps, his antennae waving in irritation. Hanna's smile falters, but she nods. "Of course," she says. "It's just that I don't wa-" "To sit around doing nothing," he finishes for her. "I know, I know. You just think it's all fun and games." Hanna swallows her retort, nodding. "Okay, I get it," she says. "How about something else? Maybe a puzzle?" Karen interjects, sensing the tension. "That sounds like a great idea," she says brightly. "Let's all do it together on the floor." With a grumble, Plankton starts to stand, using his crutches to balance his weight. Hanna quickly moves to his side, offering her arm for support. He glares at her. "I can do it myself," he snaps. Karen watches them, a smile tugging at her lips. "It's okay," she says, picking up a puzzle box from the coffee table. "Let's just get started." Plankton lowers himself to the floor, setting the crutches down. He grimaces, his leg muscles protesting as he shifts his weight to his good side. Using his arms for leverage, he crawls over to the space they've cleared for the puzzle. Hanna watches, worry etched on her face. "Do you want me to help? Here, le-" "I've got it," Plankton says quickly, cutting her off. He doesn't want to admit how much the simple act of getting to the floor has exhausted him. His pride won't allow it. With a grunt, he reaches the puzzle area and flops down, his cast scraping against the carpet. Karen sets the box down, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?" Hanna asks. "I said I've got it," he repeats, his voice firm. He grabs a puzzle piece, his small hands shaking slightly as he tries to fit it into place. Hanna opens her mouth to protest, but Karen gives her a look, silencing her. They watch as Plankton struggles, his face contorted with effort. His leg feels like a dead weight, but he refuses to show.
#KneeSurgery pt. 10 Patrick then notices Plankton's mouth now started to drool. "Ew, Plankton," he says, his voice a mix of disgust and fascination. "Why is your mouth leaking?" Sponge Bob laughs quietly, his hand covering his mouth. "It's just drool. When we're asleep, our saliva production doesn't stop. But since we're not swallowing like we do when we're awake, it can build up and sometimes dribble out." Patrick's eyes widen further. "But why is it coming out?" he asks. "It's because he's really relaxed and his mouth is open. And Plankton just happened to drool a little, Pat..." Patrick's expression doesn't change, his curiosity unabated. "But why does it hang like that?" he asks, his index finger pointing at the string of drool. Sponge Bob sighs, his laughter fading. "It's because the muscles that hold his mouth closed are relaxed, Patrick," he says, his tone patient. "And sometimes, when we're really deep in sleep, our saliva can just...fall out." Patrick nods slowly, his eyes never leaving Plankton's mouth. "But what if it gets on his leg cast?" he whispers, his voice filled with concern. Sponge Bob looks over at the wheelchair, where Plankton is currently snoring away. Karen, who has been quietly listening to the exchange, smiles over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Patrick," she says. "It's like his brain is on sleep mode, so he doesn't react the same way he would when he's awake." Patrick nods, his thoughts swirling. He continues to stare at Plankton's drooling mouth, his curiosity now piqued. "But what about when he wakes up?" he whispers. "Will he kn-" Before Patrick can finish his question, Plankton starts to stir, his snores morphing into a tiny grunt. Karen quickly moves forward, gently wiping the drool from his mouth with a cloth. "It's okay, Plankton," she says soothingly. "Let's get you cleaned up," she whispers. Sponge Bob and Patrick watch as Karen carefully cleans Plankton's mouth and chin, her movements precise and gentle. Plankton's eye flutters open, his gaze unfocused. "What...what's going on?" he asks, his voice groggy. "You just fell asleep, buddy," Sponge Bob says, his voice filled with sympathy. "You needed the rest." Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae twitching. "I didn't fall asleep," he insists. "I was just..." But his protests are cut short as he notices the cloth in Karen's hand. "What's this?" he asks, his voice sharper. Karen holds up the cloth. "Just a little drool," she says, her tone gentle. Plankton's face reddens with embarrassment, his antennae drooping, his pride bruised. Patrick giggles, his eyes sparkling. Plankton looks at him, his expression skeptical as Patrick's laughter fills the room, and his pride is more fragile than ever. Plankton's glare at Patrick doesn't waver, his eye narrowing as Patrick's eyes twinkle with mischief, unfazed. Patrick, still chuckling, leans in closer to Plankton. "You know, Plankton," he whispers, his voice filled with mock concern, "you snore." Plankton's face reddens more. "I do not!" he snaps. Karen and Sponge Bob exchange a knowing look, trying to hold in their laughter. "You do," Patrick says, his voice still low. Plankton's eye widens. "What?" he asks, his voice filled with disbelief. "You snore," Patrick says, his giggle escaping. Plankton's antennae wobble with anger. "I do not snore!" he insists, his voice louder. Sponge Bob puts a hand on Patrick's shoulder. "Why don't we keep it down?" he suggests, trying to lighten the mood. But Patrick's curiosity has been piqued. "How do you know?" Patrick asks, his voice innocent. "You've never heard yourself snore." Sponge Bob chuckles, his hand still on Patrick's shoulder. "Because I just...I was thinking really loudly?" Karen smiles warmly from the kitchen, knowing the truth. Patrick's laughter grows louder, his body shaking. "Thinking loudly doesn't make you snore," he says. Plankton's eye narrows. "Well, then how'd you know?" he demands. Patrick's grin spreads across his face. "Because we heard you," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob nods. "Yeah, Plankton," he admits, his voice filled with amusement. Plankton's antennae twitch with irritation. "You heard me?" he repeats, his voice unbelieving. "Yeah," Patrick says, his eyes wide with innocence. "Just now." Sponge Bob tries to change the subject, his hand still on Patrick's shoulder. "Why don't we talk about something else?" he suggests. But Patrick is not to be deterred. "I think Karen got it on video!" Plankton's antennae shoot up in alarm. "Video?" he echoes, his eye widening in horror. "You didn't..." But Karen's laughter confirms his fears. "It's just for fun, Plankton," she says, her voice filled with mirth. She holds up her camera for him to see. The room fills with their laughter, except for Plankton, whose face is a picture of humiliation. "It's not funny!" he snaps, his voice sharp. His antennae quiver with anger. Sponge Bob's laughter fades as he looks at his friend. "It's getting late Pat..." Patrick nods, his smile fading. "Okay, okay," he says, standing up. Sponge Bob nods, his expression sympathetic. "I can see you tomorrow, Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. Plankton smiles at him. "Thanks," he says, before wheeling himself to his bedroom as SpongeBob and Patrick leave. Karen follows Plankton back to their bedroom. Once Plankton is settled in bed, Karen sits beside him. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks softly. Plankton's face contorts into a grimace. "Talk about what?" "You know," she says, keeping her voice calm. "The snoring and drooling?" Plankton sighs, his tiny frame shifting under the covers. "It's just embarrassing," he admits, his antennae drooping. Karen reaches out, patting his shoulder. "It's normal, Plankton." "Whatever. Goodnight, my sweets." He says, pulling up the covers. Karen smiles. "Goodnight to you too, Mr. Grumpy," she teases, her voice filled with affection. "I'll be right here if you need anything."
#KneeSurgery pt. 13 They play for a few minutes in silence, the sound of slapping cards the only noise in the room. Hanna's cheerfulness begins to grate on Plankton's nerves, his antennae twitching with each of her exclamations of "Oh!" and "Wow!" every time she wins a round. Karen watches the exchange, her eyes flickering between them. "Plankton," she says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't we take a break?" Plankton sighs, his antennae drooping. "I'm fine," he mutters. Hanna's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay if you need to—" He cuts her off with a glare. "I said I'm fine," he snaps, his voice tight. Karen squeezes his shoulder, her gaze firm. "Plankton," she says, her voice soft but firm. "Take a moment. We're all trying to make this work." Plankton huffs, his antennae stiffening. He knows she's right, but the cast on his leg is a constant reminder of his weakness, and Hanna's cheeriness is grating on his nerves. He takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his frustration. "Okay," he says through gritted teeth. "A break." Hanna's smile doesn't waver. "Great!" she says. "How abo---" Her words are cut off as Plankton swings his cast-covered leg around, wincing slightly as he does so. Hanna watches him, her concern etched on her face. "Careful," she warns gently. "I've got it," Plankton snaps, his pride bruised. He hobbles into his bedroom, his crutches echoing against the tiles. Karen sighs heavily, her eyes following him. "I'm sorry," Hanna says quickly. "I didn't mean to overstep." Karen shakes her head. "No, it's okay," she says. "He's just...going through a tough time." Hanna nods, her eyes filled with empathy. "I can see that," she says. "But he's lucky to have you." Karen smiles sadly. "Thanks, Hanna." They sit in silence for a moment before Karen stands up. "I'll go check on him," she says, leaving the living room. In the bedroom, Plankton is lying on the bed, his crutches leaning against the wall. He looks up as Karen enters, his expression unreadable. "You okay?" she asks, her voice gentle. Plankton shrugs. "I'm fine," he says, his voice clipped. Karen sighs. "You know, you don't have to be tough all the time," she says, sitting beside him. "We're all here to support you." Plankton turns his head to look at her, his single eye studying her face. "I know," he says, his voice softer. "It's just...embarrassing." Karen nods, her hand resting on his arm. "But you're not weak for needing help. It won't be forever." Plankton's eye blinks slowly, his antennae drooping. "I know, but it's just so...humiliating." Karen's grip on his arm tightens. "You're not weak, Plankton," she says firmly. "You're strong. You're going through a tough time, and that's okay." He looks away, his antennae waving slightly. "It's just...I don't like feeling so...so..." He struggles to find the words. "Vulnerable," she fills in gently. He nods, his eye closing. "Exactly." Karen's hand strokes his arm. "We all have our moments," she says. "It's okay to not be okay." Plankton's eye remains closed, his expression thoughtful. "Thanks," he mumbles, his antennae lifting slightly. They sit in companionable silence for a moment before Plankton sighs. "I'm just tired," he says, his voice weary. "Can we just...rest?" Karen nods, her face gentle. "Of course," she says. "Why don't you take a nap? I'll tell Hanna we're taking a break." She stands and leans over to kiss his forehead. "You're doing better than you think," she whispers. Plankton's antennae twitch. "Thanks," he murmurs, his voice soft. He watches as she leaves the room, his mind racing with thoughts. He's not used to feeling so... dependent. But he knows Karen's right. He needs to accept the help and move forward. With a sigh, he closes his eye and tries to comfortable, the cast on his leg feeling like a lead weight. The house is quiet, only the faint hum of the refrigerator breaking the silence. Plankton's mind wanders, thinking about his recovery. He's always been the one to push through, to never let anything hold him back. But this... this was different. He couldn't fight or scheme his way out of a broken leg. After a few moments of contemplation, his eye snaps open. The door creaks slightly as it opens. Hanna pokes her head in, her smile slightly more tentative than before. "Is it okay if I come in?" she asks softly. Plankton nods, his antennae still. "What is it?" Her cheeks flush slightly. "I just wanted to check on you," she says, stepping into the room. "And to...apologize." "For what?" he asks, his voice gruff. Hanna takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry if I was too enthusiastic," she says, her eyes meeting his. "I just wanted to m-" "Make me feel better?" Plankton finishes for her, his tone sarcastic. Hanna swallows, her smile slightly wobbly. "I guess," she admits. "I just didn't know how else t---" Her words are interrupted by a soft knock on the doorframe. They both look up to see SpongeBob peering in, his face etched with concern. "Hey, buddy," he says gently. "How are you holding up?" Plankton's antennae perk up slightly. "I'm fine," he says. Sponge Bob nods. "Well, if you need anything, just holler," he says before leaving. Hanna looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with concern. "I'm sorry," she repeats. "I di-" "Don't," Plankton says, cutting her off. Her smile falters. "What?" "You're being a...jerk." He answers her. Hanna's eyes widen in surprise. "I'm sorry," she stammers. "I didn't mean to be...I just want to make sure yo--" "You're annoying, Hanna! I have enough to deal with without you pestering me," Plankton snaps, his antennae quivering with agitation. Hanna's smile fades, and she takes a step back, her eyes welling with hurt. "I'm sorry," she says again. "I-I-I-I…" But Plankton's not done. "You're just nosy." Hanna's eyes fill with tears, but she fights them back. "I'm just trying to be your friend," she says, her voice shaking. "Get out! I don't need you, and it's none of your business!" Plankton's voice is sharp, his antennae stiff with anger. Hanna's smile crumbles. "Plankton, I just—" she starts, but he interrupts again. "What? Just what, Hanna? You wanna just stick around and gawk at me, or are you gonna go?" His voice is bitter, and she can see the frustration boiling behind his eye. Her smile is completely gone now, replaced by a look of sadness. "You know, Plankton," she says, her voice shaky, "you don't have to—" "Don't tell me what I have to do!" Plankton yells, his small frame trembling. "I know what I need, and it's not you poking your nose into my business!" Hanna's hands clench into fists at her sides. "I'm not poking my nose in," she says, her voice strained. "I'm just trying to help!" Her words are met with silence. Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae quivering with rage. "You think you're helping?" he spits. "You're not. You're just making everything worse. Why can't you just leave me alone?" Hanna's lip quivers, but she squares her shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere," she says firmly. "I care abou–" "You don't care about me," Plankton snaps. "You just want to know what happened so you can be the hero that 'saved' me." His eye glares at her, his antennae vibrating with accusation. "Well, my life doesn't involve you, Hanna. So just stay out of it!" Hanna's eyes brim with tears, but she refuses to let them fall. "I do care," she whispers. "And I'm not trying to be a her-" But Plankton's interrupted her again. "You don't know anything about me," he says, his voice cold. "You're just here because Karen let you, but I don't want you here." Hanna's cheeks flush with hurt. "Plankton, I'm trying to be a good friend, but you're just pushing me aw-" "I don't need a friend like you," Plankton says, his voice hard. "Now get out." Hanna's eyes fill with tears, but she nods, turning to leave. He slams the bedroom door behind her. In the living room Karen looks up to see her, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "Hanna?"
#KneeSurgery pt. 4 After a while, Plankton's snores begin to quiet, and he stirs. Karen is by his side, her hand on his shoulder as his eye opens. "Hey," she whispers. He groans in his wheelchair. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice filled with concern. "Tired," he admits, his eye still half-closed. "But I'm okay." Sandy comes back into the living room, drying her hands. "You know, Karen," she says, "I can take the first shift. Why don't you get some sleep too?" Karen nods gratefully, exhaustion etched into every line of her face. "Thank you, Sandy. I really could use some rest." Sandy takes her place by Plankton's side. "I've got it from here. Call if you need anything." Karen smiles and heads to the guest room, her footsteps heavy with fatigue. Plankton shifts in his wheelchair, his cast cumbersome. The pain has receded into a dull throb, the medication doing its job. "How long have I been out?" he asks, his voice slurred with sleep. "A few," Sandy replies, her voice gentle. "You needed it." He nods slowly, his antennae drooping. "What time is it?" Sandy glances at the clock on the wall. "Almost noon," she says. "The doctor said you'd be sleepy for a day or two, so we figured we'd let you rest." Plankton's eye opens wider at that, his usual determination flaring. "Noon?" Sandy nods. "You've had a long night. And we've got lots of movies to watch, and books, if you're up for it." Plankton manages a nod. "So, tell me about this...this tibiofibular thing," Sandy asks, curiosity piqued. "What did they do?" He shrugs, his eye half-closed. "I don't know, exactly. Something with a special ossifying glue, I think." Sandy leans forward, her eyes wide. "Ossifying glue? That sounds intense." Plankton nods. "They had to repair the break. So, it's like... a super glue for bones." His hand hovers over the cast, feeling awkward. "It's supposed to hold it all together until it heals. It's naturally osteogenic and dissolves with time and healing on it's own. Six weeks in the cast, minimum." Sandy's face scrunches up in sympathy. "Six weeks? That's a long time." Plankton nods again, his head lolling slightly. Sandy can see the exhaustion settling back in. "I'll be back to normal eventually.." "Do you remember anything from the surgery?" she asks, hoping to keep his mind engaged. Plankton shakes his head, his antennae flopping. "Nope. Just woke up with this thing on," he says quickly, gesturing to the cast. Sandy nods, trying to think of something to say. "They have to put a rod in, right?" she asks. "No, no rod," he says, his voice thick with frustration. He feels a bit embarrassed with the conversation. "They used the fancy glue to hold everything together. No pins.." Sandy nods, her eyes wide with interest. "That's so cool. What's it like? Surgery, I mean. Like, did you see anything?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Not really. It's all a blur. Just remember waking up with this," he says, gesturing to the cast encasing his leg. "Wait," Sandy asks. "You mean you weren't awake for any of it?" Plankton shrugs, but Sandy's not quite finished, ignoring his clear desire to move on from the topic. Her eyes are wide with wonder. "But what about dreams?" Sandy asks. "Did you have any drea------" He cuts her off sharply, his antennae twitching. "No, I didn't. I don't remember a thing." But Sandy's curiosity isn't deterred. "What was it like when you wo-" Plankton's eye opens, his gaze intense. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say." His voice has an edge of irritation. "And so I don't have to explain it again, it's a serious surgery. They had to repair the break in my leg with a special glue that makes the bones stick together, Sandy. So JUST. LET. IT. GO." Sandy's cheeks flush slightly at his tone. "I'm just trying to understand, Plankton. I didn't mean t---" But he waves her off, his frustration clear. "I know. But I don't want to talk about it. Okay?" Plankton's voice is tight. Sandy nods quickly, apologizing. "Of course. I'll...I'll just get you some water." She stands up, leaving Plankton to his thoughts, as Karen comes back. Karen watches her friend disappear into the kitchen, a worried look crossing her face. "Everything okay?" she asks, her voice low. "I think I might have pushed a bit too hard," Sandy admits, setting the water down within reach. "I didn't mean to, I just wanna underst--" Plankton cuts her off, his frustration growing. "I SAID, I don't remember," he snaps. Karen's eyes widen at his harsh tone. Sandy nods. "I'm sor-" But Plankton isn't ready to let it go. "That's IT." His voice is tight, his antennae quivering with annoyance. "It's not your business SANDY!" Karen steps in quickly, her voice calm. "It's okay, Plankton. Sandy didn't mean to upset you." Sandy's eyes are filled with remorse. "I'm really sorry. I didn't kno—" But Plankton's not having it. "I don't care," he snaps. "Just... just STOP, and leave me alone!" His antennae quiver with agitation, his eye flashing with irritation. Karen's heart squeezes at the pain she sees in his gaze. Sandy's eyes fill with tears at his harshness, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, turning to leave the room. Karen quickly moves to block her. "No, no," Karen says firmly. "You didn't do anything wrong. Plankton, hon, we're just trying to be here for you." But Plankton's mood has shifted in agitation aimed at Sandy's curiosity. "Why do you keep asking?" he says, his voice tight. "I don't know what you expect me to say!" His antennae twitch with annoyance. Sandy's cheeks flush. "I just... I'm sorry," she stammers, backpedaling. "I'm just curious, I didn't mean to make you uncomf-" "Well, it's none of your business!" Plankton's voice is sharp, his antennae standing on end. Karen sighs, feeling the tension in the room. She knows Plankton's mood can swing with his pain levels, yet she doesn't want Sandy to feel unwelcome. Sandy's eyes water, hurt by his words. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to help," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. Karen steps closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Why do you keep asking!" Plankton's question lingers in the air, his antennae still quivering. Sandy swallows hard. "It's just..." Karen steps in, her voice soft. "It's okay, Sandy. Let's just give him some space." She nods towards the kitchen, and Sandy follows her. Once out of earshot, Sandy's eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean to upset him," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. Karen squeezes her hand. "It's not you. He's just in a lot of pain." She sighs. "And he's always been a bit...private about things. He's just not used to being vulnerable." Sandy nods, her gaze falling to the floor. "I know, but I just wanted to understand." Karen gives her a comforting smile. "We all do. But he's got to deal with this in his own way."

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ᴸᵉᵍ ᵘᵖ pt. 1 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᵀʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏʸ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵃˡˡᵒʷ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵖⁱᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒᵒᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉᵍ ʰⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ⸴ ᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʷᵒ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵖᵉᵃʳˡ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ᵈᵃʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ‧ "ᵂᵉ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ; ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵖʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈᵃᵍᵉ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᶜᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏⁱᵉ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵈ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᵇʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ!" ᴴᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᵇᵘʳˢᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ⁱᵍⁿᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᶠᵘˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵃˢ ᵃ ˡⁱᵐⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵉʳᵐˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵐʷⁱᵗ!" "ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵃᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˡᵃⁿᵍᵘᵃᵍᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ʳᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳˡʸ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵐᵃᵗⁱᶜ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷⁿˢᶠᵒˡᵏ‧ ʸᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᶜⁱᵛⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷⁿ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ ᵒʳ ⁿᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᶻⁱᵖ ⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢʰʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵃᶜᵗˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵘʳˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ; ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᴹᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ‧ ᴾᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵉˣᶜˡᵘᵈᵉᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰᵃⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ To be cont. Pt. 2
𐙚❶ ❾𐙚
Baby Moses law for abandoning newborns In Texas, if you have a newborn that you're unable to ca̢re for, you can bring your baby to a designated safe place with no questions asked. The Safe Haven law, also known as the Baby Moses law, gives parents who are unable to ca̢re for their child a safe and legal chøice to leαve their infant with an employee at a designated safe place—a hospıtal, fire station, free-standing emergency centers or emergency medical services (EMS) station. Then, your baby will receive medical ca̢re and be placed with an emergency provider. Information for Parents If you're thinking about bringing your baby to a designated Safe Haven, please read the information below: Your baby must be 60 days old or younger and unhἀrmed and safe. You may take your baby to any hospıtal, fire station, or emergency medical services (EMS) station in Texas. You need to give your baby to an employee who works at one of these safe places and tell this person that you want to leαve your baby at a Safe Haven. You may be asked by an employee for famıly or medical history to make sure that your baby receives the ca̢re they need. If you leαve your baby at a fire or EMS station, your baby may be taken to a hospıtal to receive any medical attention they need. Remember, If you leave your unhἀrmed infant at a Safe Haven, you will not be prosecuted for abandonment or neglect.
SANDY LEARNT A SECRET 2/2 The car ride home was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional sniffle from Karen. Sandy drove carefully, avoiding potholes and bumps that might jar Plankton and extend his absence. She glanced at the rearview mirror, watching his still form in the backseat, his face a mask of zoned out oblivion. Karen sat next to Plankton. Her eyes never left his, willing him to blink, to move, to give any sign that he understood. They entered the Chum Bucket home. Sandy trailed behind, silent as Karen takes Plankton to their bedroom. Karen laid Plankton down on his bed, her hands shaking slightly as she pulled the blanket over his unmoving body. She tucked it in around him, smoothing out the wrinkles with tender strokes. Sandy took a seat by his side, her heart racing from the weight of what she'd just learned. Plankton lay there, completely still, his breathing shallow yet even. She studied his face, trying to read the secrets behind his glazed eye. It was eerie, yet in a strange way, like watching someone lost in a deep, unshakeable sleep. The room was bathed in soft light, the curtains filtering the harshness of the sun outside. The only sound was the faint tick of a clock on the nightstand and the even flow of air from the air conditioner. It was a contrast to the chaos of his seizure, and Sandy whispered, "You're safe here." Her eyes remained on his, waiting for the slightest movement. The minutes stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Then, as if waking from a deep slumber, Plankton's eye flickered. His gaze was unfocused, his pupil slowly expanding and contracting as he tried to adjust to the light, then confusion. She watched with bated breath as he blinked a few times. "Where… How?" he mumbled, his voice groggy and distant. "You had a… I saw you at the park, Plankton," Sandy said, her tone gentle. "You're home now. You're safe." Plankton's eye searched her face, the confusion deepening as he tried to piece together what happened. His gaze drifted to the window, where the world outside was a blur of colors and sounds. "Sandy?" he asked, his voice tentative. She nodded, her hand reaching out to squeeze his. "You're safe, Plankton. It's just..." But before Sandy could finish, he sat up with a start, his eye wide. "What happened?" He demands. Sandy's heart skipped a beat. "You had a seizure at the park," she explained. Plankton's hand flew to his face, his antennae drooping. "Oh, great," he murmured, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The realization of his condition in front of someone who didn't know was clear in his expression. Sandy felt a pang of regret. "It's okay, Plankton," she says, her voice gentle. "It's just a part o..." "I know what it is!" Plankton snapped, cutting her off. His frustration was palpable, his body rigid with embarrassment. "I don't need you to explain it to me!" Sandy took a step back, her hand falling to her side. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. Plankton's chest heaved with the effort of holding back his anger. He knew Sandy was just trying to help, but the sudden spotlight on his condition felt like an invasion of his personal space. "I'm sorry, I just..." Sandy began, but Plankton's frustration was like a dam bursting. "You just what?" he countered, his voice sharp. Sandy's cheeks burned. "I'm sorry, I just didn't know how to help. I've never..." "Seen me like this?" Plankton finished for her, his voice still edgy. Sandy nodded, feeling a knot form in her stomach. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just wanna ask you wh..." "Don't," Plankton interrupted, his voice brittle. "I don't want to talk about it." Sandy nodded, feeling the sting of his words. She backed away, giving him space. "Okay," she said softly. "But if you eve..." "Just go," Plankton interrupted, his voice smaller now, his eye watering. "I need some time alone." Sandy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She knew his anger was a shield, a way to protect himself from the curiosity and sympathy he saw as invasive. She backed out of the room. She found Karen seated on the couch. "He ok?" Karen asked. Sandy nodded. "He's awake. He's just...upset?" Karen stood up, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "I'll go to him," she decided, heading to the bedroom. Sandy hovered by the door as Karen went in. "Plankton," Karen began, her voice gentle. "You're safe, love. It's ok." Sandy could see the tension in Karen as she approached the bed, her hand trembling as it reached out to touch Plankton's shoulder. His eye met hers, and for a moment, Sandy saw the raw pain and embarrassment in his gaze. "Let's all go to the living room," Karen whispered, her voice shaky. Plankton nodded. In the living room, the three of them sat down on the couch, the silence thick and uncomfortable. Sandy felt the urge to fill it with reassurances, but she held her tongue. Karen took Plankton's hand in hers, her thumb stroking the back of it in a comforting gesture. "I know it's hard," she said softly, "but it's ok. You're ok." Plankton nodded, his breathing still a little rapid, his expression guarded. "Do you remember anything?" Karen asked, her voice a gentle caress. Plankton's gaze drifted to the floor. "Just the park," he mumbled. "The swings." Sandy's eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?" Plankton's grip on the couch cushion tightened. "You don't need to know," he said, his voice edged with irritation. Karen gave a resigned sigh. "Plankton, San..." "I said I don't want to talk about it!" Plankton's voice was a sudden explosion, echoing through the room. Sandy flinched at his outburst. "Plankton, please," Karen interjected, her voice a calm contrast to the storm of his emotions. "Sandy's just trying to understand." But Plankton's anger was a wall, impenetrable. "I don't owe her anything!" he snapped, pulling his hand away from hers. "It’s not her business!" Sandy felt the sting of his words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.." Karen put a hand on Sandy's shoulder, her eyes kind. "It's ok. It's new for you, and it's a lot to take in. Plankton just needs a bit of space." She turned to her husband, her voice soothing. "Honey, Sandy's our friend. She wants to be there for us." Sandy watched as Plankton's body visibly relaxed, his breathing evening out. His eye flickered up to meet hers, and she saw the apology in it. He took another deep breath, his shoulders dropping. "I know," he said, his voice smaller now. "I'm sorry." Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her expression one of understanding. "It's ok," she said. "We're all trying to figure it out."
💚💛= Plankbob ❤️💛 = Krabob 🩵💛= Squidbob 🩷💛= Patbob 🤎💛= Spandy ❤️💚 = Plabs 💙💚 = Plankaren 🤎💙= Karendy ❤️🩵 = Krabsward
favorite(s) SpongeBob shipping Karendy — the ship between Sandy and Karen krabbob (spongebob x mr krabs) Larrick — the ship between Larry the Lobster and Patrick Star MR KRABS AND MRS PUFF + KRUFF PatBob(SpongeBobxPatrick) Plabs — the ship between Mr. Krabs and Sheldon Plankton Plankaren — the ship between Plankton and Karen PlankBob — the ship between SpongeBob and Sheldon Plankton Plankward — the ship between Plankton and Squidward Tentacles Sandrick — the ship between Patrick and Sandy Cheeks Spandrick Sandy Cheeks · Patrick Star Spandward — the ship between SpongeBob, Sandy Cheeks and Squidward Tentacles Spandy(SpongeBobxSandy) Squandy(Squidward vs Sandy) SquidBob(Squidward vs SpongeBob) SquidPatBob — the ship between SpongeBob, Squidward Tentacles and Patrick Star
These levels of sedation under anesthesia are defined by the American Society of Anesthesiologists (ASA) and are crucial in determining the appropriate level of sedation for each patient and procedure, ensuring patient safety and comfort throughout the perioperative period. Minimal Sedation: Also known as anxiolysis, minimal sedation involves a drug-induced state during which patients respond normally to verbal commands. Their cognitive function and physical coordination remain unaffected, and there is no compromise in airway reflexes or protective reflexes. This level of sedation is commonly used for procedures requiring minimal discomfort or anxiety relief, such as minor dental procedures or diagnostic tests. Moderate Sedation/Conscious Sedation: Moderate sedation, also referred to as conscious sedation, induces a drug-induced depression of consciousness, during which patients respond purposefully to verbal or light tactile stimulation. While maintaining spontaneous ventilation, patients may experience decreased anxiety and may have impaired cognitive function and physical coordination. However, they retain the ability to maintain their own airway and respond to commands. This level of sedation is commonly used for procedures such as endoscopic examinations, minor surgeries, or interventional radiology procedures. Deep Sedation: Deep sedation involves a drug-induced depression of consciousness, during which patients may not respond purposefully to verbal or tactile stimulation. Patients under deep sedation may require assistance in maintaining their airway, and spontaneous ventilation may be inadequate. However, patients still maintain cardiovascular function. This level of sedation is often used for procedures requiring significant analgesia and amnesia, such as major surgical procedures or certain diagnostic imaging studies. General Anesthesia: General anesthesia involves a drug-induced state during which patients are unarousable, even in the presence of painful stimulation. Patients under general anesthesia require assistance in maintaining their airway and ventilation, and cardiovascular function may be impaired. General anesthesia is characterized by a complete loss of consciousness and protective reflexes, allowing for surgical procedures to be performed without pain or awareness. This level of sedation is utilized for major surgical procedures or invasive diagnostic procedures where unconsciousness and muscle relaxation are necessary. Procedural sedation and analgesia (PSA) is a technique in which a sedating/dissociative medication is given, usually along with an analgesic medication, in order to perform non-surgical procedures on a patient. The overall goal is to induce a decreased level of consciousness while maintaining the patient's ability to breathe on their own. Airway protective reflexes are not compromised by this process
1️⃣7️⃣
1️⃣4️⃣🎂
2️⃣3️⃣🎂🎉
1️⃣4️⃣🗓️
1️⃣4️⃣⏳
🅾️👤@1️⃣4️⃣
✔️🅰️🅰️2️⃣3️⃣.xyz
1️⃣4️⃣:2️⃣3️⃣
⚙️⏱️2️⃣3️⃣
1️⃣4️⃣:
🔢2️⃣2️⃣0️⃣4️⃣
🔟➕4️⃣
@🍞1️⃣4️⃣
🔢➡️2️⃣2️⃣:2️⃣2️⃣2️⃣
1️⃣4️⃣yrs
2️⃣3️⃣
✌️✌️:✌️✌️✌️
1️⃣4️⃣🧑‍
🧬2️⃣3️⃣
🦁/♍2️⃣2️⃣
🅾️⏰1️⃣4️⃣
2️⃣3️⃣🥉
🐑🙏📖
🗓️➡️2️⃣3️⃣🎈
✨🥳2️⃣3️⃣🥂
✔️🆔2️⃣3️⃣.XYZ
✔️💻🅰️🅰️2️⃣3️⃣🔗
✔️🏀2️⃣3️⃣
🐐2️⃣3️⃣
🎶~🤔2️⃣2️⃣
✔️🅰️🅰️2️⃣3️⃣🌐
1️⃣4️⃣.1️⃣2️⃣
🤫~❓2️⃣2️⃣
✨~🕵2️⃣2️⃣
⏺️:2️⃣3️⃣
🎉😎2️⃣2️⃣👯‍♀️
ⅩⅩⅠⅠⅠ
🗣️~👻2️⃣2️⃣
🤷‍♀️~❓2️⃣2️⃣
2️⃣3️⃣·8️⃣
❄️🗓️2️⃣3️⃣
✨😇22:222😇✨
🐺🔗2️⃣3️⃣
⩇:2️⃣3️⃣
⓶⓶🥳🕶️
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