A TOOTHY STORY pt. 3
Nina nods in approval,
their eyes meeting for a brief
moment before she turns back
to the monitors. "Just a few
more minutes," she assures,
adjusting the gauze in his mouth.
The doctor speaks up. "Let's get
him into recovery. We'll keep
an eye on him there."
Two burly starfish, who must be
orderlies, come in with a wheelchair.
They gently lift Plankton's
slack body, transferring him from
the surgical chair to the wheelchair.
Karen watches as they wrap a
comfortable blanket around him, tucking
it under his chin. His head lolls
to the side, his drool-slicked mouth
open as he snores softly.
Karen follows, her hand in his.
The recovery room is quiet,
dimly lit to reduce any
stimulation that could cause
discomfort. Plankton's snores
fill the space, echoing off the walls.
The nurse, Nina, checks his vital
signs and nods to Karen.
"You can stay with him. Just keep
talking to him, it'll help him wake up."
Karen takes a seat next to
his chair, holding his hand.
"Plankton, wake up," she says gently,
but there's no response. She tries
again, a little louder. "Wake up,
it's time to go home." The nurse,
Nina, smiles as she lifts him up
from the wheelchair.
They move him to the recovery
bed, the soft pillows cradling
his head. His eye remain
closed, and his breathing is
still slow and steady. Karen
sits beside him, her heart racing.
"You did it," she whispers, "You're
so strong."
Nina, the nurse, checks his
monitors. "Looks good," she says.
"Just a bit longer, and he'll be
ready to wake up."
Karen nods, stroking
his hand. She looks
at Plankton's face, serene in
sleep, and whispers, "Wake up,
sweetheart. We're almost done
here."
Still no response.
The nurse, Nina,
checks his vitals one more time.
"His body's just taking its
time to metabolize the
medication. Give him a
moment."
The room is quiet except
for the rhythmic beep of
the heart monitor and
the occasional snore from
Plankton. Karen watches
his chest rise and fall,
his antennae twitching slightly.
She squeezes his hand,
willing him to wake up.
The nurse, Nina, notices
Karen's anxiety. "It's okay,"
she says, "Sometimes the
anesthesia can take a little
longer to wear off. He'll be
fine. Just keep talking to him."
Karen nods and leans closer,
her voice a gentle hum. "We're
almost there, Plankton," she
says, her eyes never leaving
his still form. She can see
his chest rising and falling.
The drool has slowed, yet
his mouth is still open slightly.
The nurse, Nina, checks the clock.
"It's been about twenty minutes.
He should start to come around
now." Karen nods with a
mixture of relief and anticipation.
"Wake up, Plankton," she whispers,
squeezing his hand a little tighter.
The beeping of the heart monitor
remains a steady metronome in the
background, a comforting reminder
that he's okay.
Plankton's snores start to become
less pronounced. A faint groan
escapes him as his body starts
to shift. Karen leans closer, her voice
a soft chant of encouragement.
"Wake up, honey, wake up."
The nurse, Nina, nods in
approval. "Good, keep it up.
It'll help him wake up gently."
Karen's voice is a soothing
whisper in the quiet room.
"Plankton," she repeats, "You're
almost there. Time to wake up."
His snores taper off, and his
body starts to twitch slightly.
Karen's eyes light up, hope
flickering like the fluorescent
lights above them.
The nurse, Nina, watches
the monitors intently. "Good,
his body's starting to respond."
Karen nods, her heart racing
as Plankton's snores grow quieter.
His eyelids flutter, and for a
moment, she thinks he might be
waking up. But his body relaxes
again, and the snores resume,
though softer.
"Plankton," she calls out,
her voice a gentle caress in the
stillness of the room. "Wake up, love,"
she whispers, her voice a sweet
song of comfort.
The nurse, Nina, checks the monitors
again, her expression calm. "It's
okay," she assures Karen, "Sometimes
the body needs more time to come
out of the anesthesia."
Karen nods, stroking his hand.
"Wake up, Plankton," she whispers,
her voice filled with gentle urgency.
"We're all done here. Time to go home."
His chest continues to rise and fall,
his antennae still and his snores
soft and steady.
"You've got this, Plankton,"
she whispers. "Wake up."
The nurse, Nina,
watches the monitors
closely, her fins poised.
"He's waking up," Nina murmurs.
Karen's glued to Plankton's face. His eye
finally opens, but glazed over,
unfocused. She squeezes his hand.
"Plankton?"
He blinks slowly, his antennae
twitching as if trying to shake off
the cobwebs of sleep. His mouth
moves, but only garbled sounds come out.
"Mmph... wha...?" he mumbles, his
tongue thick in his mouth.
Karen smiles, her heart swelling
with relief. "You're okay," she says,
wiping his drool with a tissue.
Plankton's eye slowly
focus on her, confusion
swirling in their depths. "Wheh?"
he slurs, his voice thick and
sluggish. Nina, the nurse,
chuckles softly. "It's the
medication," she explains.
"He'll be a bit out of it."
Karen laughs lightly, her
relief palpable. "It's okay,
sweetheart," she says, her voice
like a warm blanket. "You're
at the dentist. You had your
wisdom teeth removed."
Plankton blinks again, his
eyes focusing on her. "W-what?"
he asks, his voice still slurred.
Nina, the nurse, nods. "It's
normal. The anesthesia
can make you groggy."
Karen smiles, her voice
soft as a lullaby. "You had
your wisdom teeth removed.
Do you remember?"
Plankton blinks again,
his eyes finally focusing
on her face. "T-teeth?"
he mumbles, his mind
swimming in the fog of
the anesthesia. His mouth feels
full, the gauze pressing
against his numb gums like a soggy
cotton ball.
"Yes, your wisdom teeth,"
Karen says, her voice still
soothing. "They're all out."
Plankton's eye widen,
and he tries to sit up, but
the nurse, Nina, gently pushes
his shoulders back down.
"Easy, Mr. Plankton," she says.
Karen laughs softly, her hand
on his shoulder. "You're still
woozy from the anesthesia."
Plankton tries to speak, but it's as
if his tongue is too large
for his mouth. "W-wis...what?"
Karen laughs, the sound
musical in the quiet recovery
room. "They took your wisdom
teeth out, Plankton. Remember?"
He blinks, his eye finally
focusing on her. "Teef?" he
slurs, his voice like a tired
child's. The nurse, Nina, chuckles
again. "It's okay," she says.