SHELF IMPROVEMENT xii
(Autistic author)
Turning back to
Plankton, Karen
approached the bed
slowly, not wanting
to startle him. She
stood there for a
moment, taking in
his peaceful form,
his antennae still.
"Plankton," she
whispered, reaching
out to gently shake
his shoulder.
His eye fluttered
open, his antennae
twitching as he took
in the scene before
him. "Karen?" he
mumbled, his voice
slurred with sleep.
"Hey, Plankton,"
she said softly, her
face a picture of calm.
"How are you feeling?"
Plankton's antennae
twitched as he
slowly came to
consciousness. "Fine,"
he murmured, his
voice still thick with sleep.
"Good," Karen
smiled, gently
squeezing his shoulder.
"Chip has his science
fair tonight. Do you
think you're up for
it?"
Plankton's antennae
perked up. "Science fair,"
he repeated, his voice
clearing a little.
Karen nods.
"Yes. Are you
ready to go?"
Plankton's eye
widened with
excitement. "Science
fair," he said, his
voice gaining
strength. "Chip's science
fair."
Karen felt a
wave of relief
wash over her. "Yes,
sweetheart," she
smiled. "And we're
going to be
there for him."
Once ready, they
left the house, the
crisp evening air a
welcome change
from the stifling
atmosphere inside. The
walk to Chip's school
was quiet, each of
them lost in their
thoughts. The sight of
the school's lights
spilling out into
the night served as a
reminder of the
event that awaited them.
The science fair was
a cacophony of sounds
and colors, with
excited children
dotted around the
hall, eagerly
explaining their projects
to parents and
teachers alike. Chip's
class was grouped
together, and
his face lit up when
he saw them approach.
Plankton's antennae
twitched, but
his eye was drawn
to Chip's proud
smile and project.
"Welcome to the
Annual Science Fair!"
The loudspeaker blared,
its metallic voice
cutting through the
buzz of the crowd.
Plankton's body
stiffened at the sudden
noise assault, but
was quick
to cover his
antennas with
his hands.
"Remember, Plankton,"
Karen whispered, her
voice a soft
contrast to the
loudspeaker's roar.
"Just let me know
if it's too much."
Plankton nodded,
his antennae still
covered by his
hands, his eye
scanning the
bustling room. The
noise was a symphony
of voices and
laughter, of beeps
and whirs from the
various science
projects. His heart
pounded in his
chest, a drum
matching the
loudspeaker's rhythm.
"Find your classmates
and have fun!"
Karen and Plankton
follow Chip to his
classmates.
"Now students, I see
you brought your
families with you; now
share with a partner
and their families, too,
about how our class
made projects.."
The room erupted
in a flurry of
excited voices, each
student eager to
share their projects.
The cacophony
was like a storm
of sound, threatening
to overwhelm the
sensitive Plankton.
One of Chip's class
partner's moms came
up to their family. "Hi, I'm
Andreea, Penny's mom," she
introduced herself, a
smile on her face.
"And this is Penny,"
she said, nudging the
tiny octopus beside
her. Penny looked shy.
Yet meanwhile the talking
was like nails on
a chalkboard to
Plankton. He
could feel the echoes
of her words bouncing
off the walls,
reverberating in his
skull. The room spun
around him, a whirlwind
of color and sound.
"Hello, I'm Karen,"
Karen said warmly,
extending a hand.
"Nice to meet you!"
The woman took
her hand, her smile
widening. "Penny
told me Chip's the
smartest boy in class,"
she said, her voice
bubbly.
"Mother," Penny
whispered, her
face flushing a deep
shade of pink.
"Chip's not the only
smart one in class,"
she mumbled.
Karen chuckled,
squeezing Chip's
shoulder. "They're
both very bright,"
she said, her eyes
twinkling.
Penny's mother laughed
unknowingly causing
Plankton even further
distress. "Oh yes, I'm sure
they all are," she said.
But Plankton was
barely holding on, his
head prickling with the
sensory assault.
Karen felt his
body sit, and she
turned to him with
concern. "Plankton?"
she asked, her voice
cutting through the
noise like a knife.
But Plankton was
unresponsive, his
eye glazed over.
He wouldn't budge,
his body rigid. The
noise was a wall
he couldn't scale,
his senses bombarded.
"Plankton?" Karen's
voice was a gentle
prodding, but he
didn't react. The
world around him
was a chaos of
colors and sounds,
each more overwhelming
than the last.
"Plankton, honey?" Karen
tried again, her
tone a gentle coax.
But Plankton was
like a statue, his
tiny body unyielding.
The sounds of the
science fair crashed
over him.
"Plankton?" Karen
repeated, her voice
filled with worry.
Penny and her mom
exchanged glances,
picking up on the
tension. "Is he okay?"
she asked, her voice
concerned. Chip, too,
noticed this absence
seizure spell.
"He's just overwhelmed,"
Karen replied, her voice
steady despite the
worry etched on her
face. She took a
deep breath,
knowing they had to
act quickly. She knew
this was his
body's way of shutting
down from the
overstimulation.
Andreea's smile
faded, her eyes
filled with
concern. "Is there
anything we can do?"
Karen shook her
head, her eyes
never leaving
Plankton's face. "Just
give us a moment,
please," she said, her
voice tight. "This is
part of a condition."
Andreea nodded,
understanding
dawning on her
face. "Oh," she said,
her voice soft. "Is he
alright? I happen to
be a nurse," she
offered, her eyes
filled with
concern.
Karen's gaze
flitted to her,
desperation in her
eyes. "Could you
please help?" she
asked, her voice
barely a whisper.
Andreea nodded,
quickly moving to
Plankton's side. "I
also work with the
school nurse, Vicky,
but Vicky's not here
today. I do have
access to her office;
we can watch over
him there, while Chip
and Penny can go
back to the class."
With Andreea, Karen
carries Plankton. "He
fell off a shelf, hitting
his head on the floor
along with the shelf
hitting his head. He's
acquired autism."
Andreea's eyes widen
in understanding. "Come
on," she says, leading the
way to the nurse's office.
"Let's get him someplace
quiet."
The nurse's office is
a haven of calm in the
storm of the science
fair. The walls are
lined with charts and
supplies, but it's the
soothing silence that
envelops them like a warm
blanket that Karen finds
most comforting. They
gently lay Plankton on
the examination table, his
tiny frame looking
vulnerable against the
white sheets.
Andreea quickly
assesses the situation,
her nurse instincts
kicking in. She listened
to his heart. "If anything
a little fast, which is
understandable," she told
Karen.
"He's okay?" Karen's
voice was tight with fear.
Andreea nodded,
her movements precise
and calm. "He's just
having an intense
sensory overload. It's
not uncommon with
this condition."
Karen's eyes
were filled with
gratitude as
she watched
Andreea work,
her professionalism
and kindness a
balm to her frayed
nerves. "Thank you,"
she murmured. "I'm not
sure what to do."
Andreea nodded,
her hands moving
quickly and surely.
"It's okay," she said.
"My ex girlfriend said
her grandaunt had
similar issues." She
tapped Plankton's
cheek gently. "Let's
see if we can get
you to respond." But
Plankton's body remained
still. Andreea sighs. "Do
you know any specific
triggers of his you've
noticed?"
Karen nods. "Loud
noises, sudden movements,
and certain touches," she lists off.
Andreea nods. "We'll
keep it calm and
predictable here," she
promised, her voice
soothing. She
dimmed the lights,
closed the door, and
turned him to face a
blank part of the wall.
"Plankton," she
whispered, her voice
barely above a
breath. "Look at the
wall, okay?" He doesn't
respond. Andreea turns
to Karen.
"Remember, Karen,"
she said, her voice
calm and measured.
"Every person with
autism is unique. We
can't always know
what will trigger
their overload, but
what's crucial is to
create an environment
that minimizes those
triggers."
Karen nodded,
her eyes never
leaving Plankton's
face. "I know," she
whispered. "We're
learning."
Andreea offered a
kind smile. "It's a
journey," she said.
"But you're already
doing so well." She
turned to the shelves,
pulling out a
weighted blanket.
"This might help,"
she said, spreading
it over Plankton's
legs.
Karen watched as
Plankton's body
relaxed slightly
under the blanket's
soothing embrace.
"Thank you," she
whispered, her eyes
filling with
gratitude.
Andreea nodded,
her eyes kind. "It's
important to tailor our
approach to each
autistic person," she
said, her voice gentle.
"Everyone's
experience is
different, but
creating a
predictable and
comfortable environment
can help."
Karen's hope grew.
"Remember," Andreea
said, her eyes on
Plankton, "it's not
about 'fixing' him,
but helping him
navigate the world."
"I know," Karen says,
nodding.
Plankton began
to rouse from his
stillness. His eye
blinked, the
world coming into focus
in fragments. And
Karen noticed.
"Plankton?" she
whispered, her
voice hopeful.
His antennae
twitched, his eye
darting to hers.
"Karen," he murmured,
his voice groggy. He
looked around,
taking in the
unfamiliar surroundings
of the nurse's office.
"Where..."
Karen's heart
skipped a beat,
relief flooding her
chest. "You're in the
school nurse's office,"
she said, her voice
gentle. "You had a
little sensory overload
at the science fair.
Remember?"
Plankton blinked,
his antennae slowly
unfurling from his
head. The weight
of the blanket grounded
him, and the
dim lights calmed
his racing mind.
He nodded, the
memory of the
noise fading into a
distant throb.