𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 29
"Daddy?" Chip asks,
his voice full of
concern. "You ok?"
Plankton's hand moves.
"I don't wanna be
touched," he says
in annoyance. "Pain."
Chip's face falls, but
he understands. "Okay,
Dad," he says, pulling
his hand back. "Do you
want me to ge-"
"No," Plankton says,
his voice firm. "I don't."
Karen nods, her eyes
knowing. "Remember,
Plankton," she says gently.
"You might be even more
sensitive to touch
right now because of
the surgery. It's okay
to tell us if something
bothers you."
Chip nods, his
expression solemn.
They both know that
Plankton's autism means
senses can be overwhelmed
even on a good day. Now,
with his mouth sore from
the surgery, any touch
could be agonizing.
Plankton takes a sip
of water, but does little
for the ache in his jaw.
He leans back into the
pillows, his eye
half-closed. Chip sits
on the bed by him.
"Dad," Chip starts,
his voice tentative. "I'm
here for you." Plankton's
antennas twitch slightly.
"I know, buddy," he says,
voice strained. "Thanks."
Karen looks at Chip,
her eyes filled with
appreciation. "Why don't
you read to him?" She
suggests. "It might
help distract him."
Chip nods, his mind
racing. What would
his dad want to hear?
He settles on a book
about sci-fi, something
that usually interested
him. He sits down by
Plankton on the bed.
He opens the book and
begins to read, his voice
low and steady. "Once
upon a time, there was
a utopian world," he
reads, his eyes glancing
at Plankton. His dad's
antennas twitch slightly
in response. Good, he's
listening.
As Chip reads about
molecules and atoms,
Plankton's eye begins to
glaze over. The story
is interesting, but the
pain in his mouth
makes it hard to focus.
He can feel his anxiety
start to rise, his chest
getting tighter.
Karen notices his
discomfort and touches
his hand lightly. "Honey,
are you okay?" She asks.
But then the doorbell
rings, interrupting their
moment. Chip jumps up,
excited for a break.
"I'll get it," he says,
his voice hopeful.
Karen nods, her gaze
still on Plankton. Chip
finds Sandy at the door!
"Hi Chip," she says,
her smile wide. "I
thought I'd stay a bit,
keep y'all company
or whatnot." So she
follows Chip into his
parents bedroom.
Plankton's antennae
twitch at the sight of
Sandy. "Hi," he mumbles,
not really focusing. Karen
knew this look usually
meant an oncoming
absence seizure for him.
"You okay?" Sandy asks,
her eyes searching his.
Plankton doesn't respond.
Sure enough, Karen knew
an absence seizure's starting.
Still Sandy approaches, her
movements slow and
careful, not wanting to
overwhelm him. "Plankton?"
Plankton's antennae twitch
slightly, but he doesn't
react. His mind is
somewhere else. Karen
quickly explains, "It's okay,
Sandy. He's having an
absence seizure."
Sandy gasps, for she
has never seen this
before. "Oh no," she
whispers, her eyes wide.
"It's okay Sandy," Karen
says, her voice calm. "It's
just a part of his autism."
Sandy looks at Karen,
her eyes questioning.
"An absence seizure?"
Sandy asks, her voice
quiet. Karen nods, her
hands steady. "They're
harmless, but can be
disconcerting if you're
not used to them. They
can last anywhere from a
few seconds to a couple
of minutes, even a few
hours." They both sit on
his bed.
Plankton's antennae
twitch once more before
his body goes still. The
only sign he's alive is
his chest rising and
falling with his shallow
breaths. Sandy watches,
concern etched on her
face. "What can we do?"
she whispers to Karen.
Karen shakes her head,
keeping her voice low.
"Just stay with him.
Perhaps talk to him, but
don't touch unless he
initiates. Keep it calm."
Sandy nods, taking a
deep breath. She sits
on the edge of the bed,
her eyes never leaving
Plankton's still form. "H-
hey, Plankton," she says
softly, her voice trembling.
"It's me, Sandy. I came
to check on you."
Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's face, watching
closely for any sign
of the seizure's end. She
smiles gently at Sandy.
"It's okay, sometimes he can
hear us. Just keep talking."
Sandy nods, her voice
soft. "Plankton, I'm here,"
she says. "Your surgery
was yesterday!" She smiles
nervously, hoping to
engage him. Plankton
remains motionless.
Karen squeezes his hand
gently. "You had a good
night's sleep," she says,
continuing to talk to
him as if he's just
daydreaming. "Your
mouth will heal soon."
Sandy nods, her voice
even softer. "Yeah,
Plankton. And Chip
and I are gonna help
you through this, okay?"
Plankton's antennae
barely move. The
seizure seems to be
continuing. Karen
sighs, her hand
still in his.
Chip watches his dad
with a heavy heart.
He wishes there was
more he could do than
just sit doing nothing.
He glances at them,
his eyes questioning.
Karen shakes her head,
keeping her voice low.
"It's normal," she
explains. "It's just his
autism making it
harder for him to deal
with pain. He'll come
out of it in his own time."
"How might I know when
it's over?" Sandy whispers.
Karen nods, her gaze
still on Plankton. "When
his antennae move
again, or when he blinks.
It's like he's just
spaced out, but his brain's
not processing
anything around him."
"How do you know if or
when he can hear us?"
She asks, watching his chest
rise and fall rhythmically.
Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's still form. "Sometimes,
during these seizures,
he can still process what's
being said around him. It's like
his brain's on pause, but
the background's still playing.
It's why we keep talking."
"So what do we talk
about?" She whispers. Karen
smiles gently. "Just keep
it simple and calm.
Talk about his favorite
things, or ask questions
that don't require an answer."
Sandy nods, taking a
deep breath.
"Plankton," she says
softly. "You know, I
was thinking, going through
surgery can't be easy for
anyone, but especially not
for someone with sensory
issues like you." But still
Plankton doesn't budge.
But Sandy's still curious.
"Karen, why doesn't
he blink during these?"
Sandy whispers, her
eyes never leaving
his face.
"It's a part of the
seizure," Karen says
quietly. "His body goes
still, and his brain does
not send signals to
blink or move. It's like
his body's frozen in
time. Why don't you
try to keep his mind
engaged?"
Sandy nods, leaning
closer. "Plankton," she
whispers. "You know
what I was thinking?"
Her voice is soft, almost
a sing-song. "We could
have ice cream. What do
you think?"
There's a pause. Then, a
tiny twitch in his antenna.
Karen smiles. It's working.
"Maybe mint chocolate chip,"
Sandy suggests, her voice
soothing. "Or would you
prefer vanilla?" "Villa,"
Plankton replies, a glimmer of
life returning to his eye.
Karen's smile widens. "Look,
he's coming back," she whispers.
Chip's eyes light up,
his voice eager. "Can we
have ice cream too?" Karen
nods. "Of course. But let's
wait until later."
Plankton's antennae
twitch slightly, but
his eye remained
unblinking. So Sandy
tries again.
"What's your favorite
flavor, Plankton?" She
asks him, her voice
barely above a whisper.
This time, there's more
life in his antennae. They
wave slightly. "Villa,"
he murmurs. Sandy nods.
"Okay, vanilla it is. Great!
We'll have a little
celebration later with
your ice cream, okay?"
And then, finally, his
eye blinks. "Welcome
back," Karen says, her
voice a warm smile.
Chip's face breaks into a
grin, and Sandy looks
at him with a mix of
relief and curiosity.
Plankton looks around
a bit confused, seeing
Sandy sitting by him.
"S-Sandy?" He says,
his voice weak. "How long
have you been here!"
Sandy smiles warmly,
her eyes filled with
relief. "Not long," she
says. "Just waited for
you to come back to us."
Plankton nods, his
antennas drooping.
"I-I must've had a seizure.."
Karen nods gently. "Yes,
you did," she confirms.
"But it's over now, and
you're ok." She squeezes
his hand, her eyes full of
warmth and reassurance.
Sandy scoots beside
Plankton. "Back when
I was in Texas, I gotta
extra copy of a Texan
science book and just
knew you'd like to keep
it!" She pulls out a big
book. Plankton's eye lit
up. "Ooh, let's look at
the index!"
"What, why the index?"
Sandy asks. "It's just a
part of his autistic brain
that he always likes the
index." Karen interjects.
"Read the title and page
to him; it might help him
relax a bit."
Sandy nods, her voice
soft as she reads. "Alright,
Plankton. 'The Wonders of
Texas Mechanics'... page 32.
'Life in Texas'... page 110." Sandy
holds the book in front of them
as Plankton peers over by her
shoulder, following along.
Sandy continues on
reading. "Texan
Electricity... page 240.
Alien Technology...
page 478. Unusual
Texas Phenomena...
page 520. New Texan
Inventions... page 600."
Sandy reads on.
"Discoveries in Texas
Biology... page 780. The
Molecular Universe...
page 850. Li—" Sandy
is cut off by a soft snore.
Plankton's antennae had
stopped twitching and
his eye was now fully
closed. Sandy looks to
find his head resting
against her arm,
his mouth slightly open.
Karen smiles gently. "Looks
like he's out," she whispers.
Sandy nods, setting the
book down carefully. "I
think so," she whispers back.
"He must be exhausted.
And the pain probably wore
him out."
They sit in quiet
companionship.
His snores are soft
and rhythmic. Sandy's
arm is now around
Plankton's shoulders,
supporting him.
Chip looks at his
mom and Sandy, a
question in his
eyes. Karen nods. "It's
okay," she whispers.
"Let him sleep. He
needs rest."
Sandy nods with
compassion. She gently
shifts her arm around
Plankton, making sure
his head is comfortably
propped on her
shoulder. Chip
watches, feeling a mix
of awe and confusion.
He's never seen his
dad trusting and relaxed.
Karen whispers, "Why
don't you go play,
Chip? We'll keep an
eye on him." Chip
nods, his eyes
lingering on his
father. He doesn't
want to leave, but he
understands that his
dad needs peace.