＃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?