KAREN AND THE TEETHIES i
Karen sat by her husband
Plankton, who's in the dentist
chair. They numbed his arm
where the Iv's to go in; today
Plankton gets his wisdom teeth
surgically removed.
The dentist, a man named Dr.
Finnegan, leaned in and said,
"Plankton, you're going to start to
feel sleepy now." Dr. Finnegan
started the Iv.
"Are you sure? I'm still awake
and not to mention a light
sleeper," Plankton says, "I don't
feel anyth—" His voice trails
off as his eye flutters closed, his
mouth opens slightly, revealing
his tiny white teeth, and his
body goes limp. His head tips
to one side, and Karen reaches
over to gently push it back to a
more comfortable position.
Plankton's snoring echoes softly in
the surgical room. Karen watches Dr.
Finnegan as he starts to prep
for the procedure. He's all smiles
and nods, assuring her that
everything will be fine.
The smell of antiseptic fills
the room as Dr. Finnegan
cleans the area around Plankton's
mouth with a cool, minty
solution. Karen's grip on her
husband's hand tightens
instinctively, even though he
doesn't stir, lost in the
depths of sleep.
Dr. Finnegan's assistant, a
slender young man with a gentle
touch, carefully inserts the
mouth prop to keep Plankton's
mouth open. Plankton's snores
change pitch slightly, but he
still doesn't wake.
Karen squeezes Plankton's hand,
even though he's unconscious.
The assistant nods at Dr.
Finnegan, who begins to explain
the procedure to Karen. She
nods, trying to focus on his words,
but her eyes keep drifting to her
snoring husband. She can't help
but feel a mix of anxiety and
affection. Plankton, ever the
worrier, had been so nervous about
the surgery. Now he's out like a
light, blissfully unaware of the
impending extraction.
The assistant places a soft
bib under Plankton's chest to
absorb any excess saliva. His
snoring gets a little louder, and
Karen can't resist the urge to
smile.
Dr. Finnegan then starts
the actual surgery, making an
incision in Plankton's gum.
The sound of the drill starts to
fill the room, a high-pitched
whine that makes Karen's teeth
ache in sympathy. She watches
as the assistant suctions the
area to keep it clean. Plankton's
body remains still, his breaths
deep and even.
The tension in the room is
palpable, even though Plankton
is completely oblivious to it. Karen's
thumb rubs his knuckles in a
soothing rhythm as she watches Dr.
Finnegan's steady hand make the
first incision, and Plankton's
snores hitch slightly before
resuming their normal rhythm.
The assistant, noticing Karen's
nervousness, gives her a reassuring
smile. "It's normal for any
snoring to change a bit. He's
still deep in sleep."
Plankton's snores become more
rhythmic as the surgery progresses.
Dr. Finnegan's expert hands navigate
the tight space of his mouth with
ease. Karen's gaze shifts from the
dental tools to the monitor above
them. It displays an X-ray of
Plankton's mouth with the wisdom
teeth highlighted, their jagged
edges pressing against the other
teeth. The reality of the procedure
sets in, but she trusts the dentist.
Her thumb continues to stroke
his hand.
The drill's whine grows louder,
and the smell of bone dust mingles
with the antiseptic. Plankton's
snores remain unfazed, a testament
to the anesthesia's effectiveness.
The assistant periodically wipes
away the blood and saliva that
collects in the corners of his mouth,
his eyes never leaving his task.
Karen's eyes dart to the clock.
Time seems to crawl as the minutes
pass. Each snore from Plankton
is a comforting metronome,
keeping her anxiety in check.
The surgical team works with
precision, their movements
choreographed from years of
practice. The nurse keeps a close
watch on the monitors, noting
Plankton's vitals with a nod of
approval. Dr. Finnegan's
concentration is unbroken, his
expression a mask of focus.
The sound of the drill pauses, and
Karen's heart skips a beat, but
it's quickly followed by the
crunch of bone as the first
wisdom tooth is exposed. Plankton's
snoring doesn't miss a beat. She
swallows hard, her eyes stinging
slightly from the tension.
The nurse notices her
discomfort and offers a kind word,
"You're all doing great." Karen nods as
Dr. Finnegan gently probes the
tooth with a tiny pair of forceps,
his brow furrowed in
concentration.
The drill starts up again,
cutting through the bone.
Karen's eyes dart between her
husband's face, the X-ray
monitor, and the clock, each tick
another step closer to the end of
this ordeal.
Plankton's snores don't even
hitch as Dr. Finnegan applies
gentle pressure to the tooth. The
forceps clamp down, and the
tooth gives a little. Karen holds
her breath, her eyes wide with
anticipation.
The tension in the room is like a
tightrope, but Plankton remains
completely relaxed, unshaken by the
invasion in his mouth.
With a final, almost
ceremonial scraping, the first
wisdom tooth is free. Dr.
Finnegan's smile widens as he
holds it up for Karen to see before
disposing of it.
"One down, three to go,"
he says cheerfully, as if
removing teeth is as simple
as plucking daisies.