TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚
Pt. 13
"Okay," Plankton murmured,
his antennae drooping.
"Step by step." Karen nodded,
her grip on his hand tight.
"We'll get through this."
Penny nods. "We've various
ways to administer the
local anesthetic," she says,
her voice soothing. "Which
one do you prefer?" Plankton's
stims decrease slightly, his
eye blinking rapidly as he
considers. "The gel," he murmurs.
She nods. "Okay. So after the
gel, we'll give it a few minutes
to work, and then we'll start
the extraction process. So for
that, we'll have you leave your
mouth open as we get a tool
used to cut the g-"
He jerks back. "No," he says,
his antennae quivering. "No
cutting. No poking. No
tools." His voice is
desperate, his eye wide
with fear.
Karen's eyes searched
Dr. Coral's, silently pleading
for understanding. She knew
his sensitivity to pain was
exacerbated by his autism. "Is there
another way?" she asks, her voice
even.
Dr. Coral nodded. "We can
consider IV sedation," she said.
"It's something we offer to patients
with severe anxiety or sensory
issues. But I think general
anesthesia's our best bet. It's
like laughing gas, nitrous
oxide yet it'll simply keep him
asleep during the whole
procedure."
Karen felt a weight lift from
her shoulders. "Okay," she said.
"We can do that."
Dr. Coral nodded. "Good.
We'll schedule you for
general anesthesia. It'll be
easier on everyone. Tomorrow
morning works for you?"
Karen nodded. "Yes,
we'll make it here, bright
and early."
The drive home was
silent, the tension in
the car thick as
the kelp outside. Plankton
was curled in his seat, his
body tight with residual fear.
Chip's mind raced, trying
to process everything that had
happened. His dad, so strong
and sure, had crumpled before
his eyes like a discarded
piece of paper.
Once home, Karen helped
Plankton to the couch. Chip
hovered nearby, his eyes
darting between his
parents, unsure of what to do.
"Why don't you go play in
your room," Karen suggested,
her voice gentle. "Let me take
care of your dad."
He nodded, retreating
to his room with a heavy
heart. The silence in the
house was deafening, a stark
contrast to the chaos
of the dentist's office.
Karen helped Plankton
pick out a blanket and
a stuffed animal,
comfort items, for the
oral surgery tomorrow.
Plankton's stims were
more pronounced as he
tried to process the
information. "It'll be
okay," she whispered.
He nodded, his antennae
still twitching.
"We'll be there with you,"
she assured him. "Every
step of the way."
Early the next day
Karen got up so
she could take
Plankton back for
his wisdom teeth
removal procedure.
He was already
awake, his antennae
twitching with nervous
energy. Chip also will
go with them.
Plankton sat up front with
his blanket and plush.
Karen squeezed his hand.
"Remember, sweetie, it's
going to be okay."
He nodded, his antennae
drooping slightly as he
turned to look out the
window. Chip sat in the
back, his eyes glued to
his father's reflection.
They arrived at the
dental clinic, and
the receptionist looked
up, her smile faltering
slightly at the sight
of Plankton's agitation.
"Dr. Coral is almost
ready, so have a seat in
the waiting area."
As they all sat, Plankton started
rocking back and forth, his
stims increasing with each
moment that ticked by. "Hnnn,"
Plankton hums.
Karen's eyes searched the room
for anything that might help
calm him, but the bright lights
and the cacophony of sounds
only seemed to exacerbate his
discomfort. The fish flipping
through magazines, the TV playing
a children's show, the distant
whine of a drill from a
different room—each
element a potential minefield
for his sensitive senses.
Chip watched his dad, his
throat tight with anxiety.
He'd never seen him like
this, so vulnerable and
frightened. Karen reached
over and placed a tentative
hand on Plankton's shoulder.
"It's okay," she whispered,
but Plankton flinched away,
his antennae quivering. Karen
understood. Plankton's in
need of his space, and she
wouldn't push him. She knew
today's particularly
overwhelming.
Dr. Coral called
them back, and Plankton's
body stiffened. Karen
stood up, her arm around
his waist, guiding him
toward the open door.
"Let's go, sweetie," she
murmured. "It's time. Chip
will stay here in the waiting
room, okay?"
The surgery room was
a stark contrast to the
waiting area. The lights were
dimmer, the sounds softer.
The smell of antiseptic
was faint, but it was enough
to make Plankton's antennae
twitch with anxiety. Karen
noticed and whispered,
"You can keep your plushie
with you."
He nodded, his grip on
the stuffed animal tight.
They approached the
exam chair, and he allowed
Karen to help him climb up.
The nurse, a kind octopus
named Octavia, smiled. "Hi!
I'll make sure you're comfy
and snoozing while Dr. Coral
takes out the wisdom teeth.
She told me about your needs
and we've the gas, okay? And
Karen will stay with you the
whole time."
Plankton's antennae stopped
twitching momentarily, his
eye blinking rapidly as he
tried to process her words.
"You'll stay?" he asked, his
voice small, hopeful. Karen
nodded. "I'll be here." He held
out his hand for her to hold and
she took it. The stuffed plush
was in his other arm.
The nurse, Octavia,
prepared a mouth
prop. "This is going to
help keep your mouth open
comfortably," she explained,
her voice gentle. "It's
soft, and it won't pinch."
Plankton's antennae
twitched, his eye narrowing.
It looked like a pair of
plastic salad tongs. He
opened his mouth and allowed
her to place it gently.
Dr. Coral entered,
her smile reassuring.
"Ready?" she asked. Plankton
nodded, his antennae
still. Karen took his hand,
squeezing it tight.