#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."