Surgerycore Emojis & Text

Laparoscopic appendectomy removes the appendix using small incisions. Advantages of laparoscopic appendectomy are:- - Less paın after surgery - A shorter time in the hospıtal - Getting back to normal actıvıtıes faster - Having normal bowel movements sooner - A smaller scar

r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago deontistic Unnatural Birth ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance. Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed. I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın. I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . . I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

Sedation. It's medicine that helps the person relax or fall asleep. It may be used with other medicine to reduce pain. If you’re being sedated, the staff will monitor your vital signs while you’re under anesthesia. You may also be given nitrous oxide that you inhale through a mask. That will help you relax but won’t necessarily put you to sleep. Next, you might be given a sedative intravenously, which will put you into a sleeplike state. They can also inject local anesthesia to numb the areas. With IV sedation, your care team gives you sedation medication intravenously (through an IV). You will be very relaxed and unaware of the procedure and unable to remember it. Your vital signs will be monitored during IV sedation. You will be sleepy for a significant portion of the day. General anesthesia brings on a sleep-like state with the use of a combination of medicines. The medicines, known as anesthetics, are given before and during surgery or other medical procedures. General anesthesia usually uses a combination of intravenous medicines and inhaled gasses. Once surgery is done and anesthesia medications are stopped, you’ll slowly wake up in the operating room or recovery room. You’ll probably feel groggy and a bit confused. General anesthesia. It affects the entire body and makes the person unconscious. The person is completely unaware of what is going on and does not feel pain from the surgery or procedure. General anesthesia is essentially a medically induced coma. Your doctor administers medication to make you unconsciousness so that you won’t move or feel any paın during the operation. You'll start feeling lightheaded, before becoming unconscious within a minute or so. You'll feel as though you're asleep. But general anesthesia does more than put you to sleep. You don't feel pain when you're under general anesthesia. This is because your brain doesn't respond to signals or reflexes. Someone from the anesthesia care team monitors you while you sleep. You'll slowly wake either in the operating room or the recovery room. You'll probably feel groggy and a little confused when you first awaken. When first waking from anesthesia, you may feel confused, drowsy, and foggy. You may feel dizzy when you first stand up. Some people may become confused, disoriented, or have trouble remembering things after surgery. This disorientation can come and go, but it usually goes away after about a week. General anesthesia is generally a combination of intravenous (IV) medications and gases that are used to put you in a deep sleep. You are unaware of the procedure and will not feel anything. Your vital signs will be monitored during general anesthesia.

These may include nitrous oxide (laughing gas) inhaled, an intravenous (IV) line in, oral medications like Valium or Halcion (for anxiety) or a combination, along with anesthesia to numb the pain. Regardless of which type of anesthesia you’re given, you should feel relaxed and pain-free, with limited to no memory of the procedure. If you’re given general anesthesia, you’ll lose consciousness altogether. A surgical team will closely monitor your pulse, respiration, blood pressure, and fluids.

givesmehope: I met a 16 year old genius who was in medical school, studying to be a pediatric neurosurgeon. He put every dollar he made at his job into a retirement fund. Why? He wanted to be able to retire at age 30, so that he could spend the rest of his life performing brain surgeries for free. His philanthropy GMH. Mar 5 2010

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ┃ ┃ ɴᴇᴇᴅʟᴇs, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ "You okay?" Karen's voice was a gentle caress in the cold antiseptic room. Plankton nodded, his eye tightly shut. The nurse had told him it would be quick, that he'd be under before he knew it, but that didn't stop his heart from thudding like a bass drum. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the cold hands fussing over him, the tightening of the blood pressure cuff around his arm. "Count backward from ten," the anesthesiologist's voice was calm and steady, as if he did this a thousand times a day. Plankton obliged, his voice quivering on each number. "Ten... nine... eight..." The world grew fuzzy around the edges, the cold metal of the bed beneath him feeling like it was sinking. "Seven... six... five..." His body grew heavier, each breath more difficult to draw in. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her eyes brimming with tears she refused to let fall. The doctor's face grew distant, his voice a distant echo. With a final exhale, the room faded to black. Plankton was now adrift in a sea of oblivion, his bødy relaxed and weightless. 🦷🦷🦷🦷 The surgical team waited a moment, watching the monitors. The anesthesiologist then nodded to the surgeon, who carefully lifted Plankton's eyelid, revealing a sti̕ll, unseeing eye, then shining a light to his pupil before closing his eyelid again. He then took a reflex hammer and tapped gently on Plankton's knee. No reaction. The nurse noted the time. "He's under," she murmured. They went through the checklist, ensuring his bødy was completely relaxed, his reflexes gone. The surgeon smiled at Karen, who had been watching anxiously from her seat. "Everything's going to be okay," he assured her. She nodded. Karen watched, as Plankton's fac͘e remained peaceful, his breathing steady under the influence of the anesthesia. The surgery began with a whir of instruments. Plankton's mouth was propped open, a rubber dam holding back his tóngue. The surgeon leaned in, peering into the cavern of his møuth, a flashlight illuminating the pearly white teeth and the troublesome wisdom teeth that had been causing him so much pain. He selected a tool, a kind of plier-like instrument, and with a gentle but firm touch, began to probe at the first tooth. Karen's stߋmach clenched as she saw the surgeon's hand move with precision, applying just enough pressure to loosen the tooth. She tried to focus on her breathing, willing her heart to slow down. The room was filled with the faint smell of antiseptic and the metallic scent of dental instruments. Plankton's face remained serene, his chest rising and falling steadily as he lay unaware of the work being performed on him. The first tooth came out with a sudden pop, making Karen flinch. The nurse quickly handed over a small metal tray, catching the tooth as it was extracted. The surgeon worked with a methodical calm, moving on to the next one without pause. Karen squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, only to open them again as she heard the sound of Plankton's snoring, the kind that only came when he was in a deep sleep. It was strange, comforting even, to know that his bødy was oblivious to the paın that had been plaguing him for weeks. The second wisdom tooth proved to be more stubborn. The surgeon muttered something to his assistant, who nodded and handed him a different tool. Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightened, her knucklєѕ white with tension. She could feel the sweat beading on his palm despite the coolness of the room. The surgeon's expression grew more focused, his movements more deliberate as he worked to free the tooth from its bony prıson. The tension in the room was almost palpable. The only sounds were the muffled beeps of the heart monitor and the slight sucking noıse as the surgeon worked in Plankton's møuth. Karen's eyes darted around the surgery, taking in the gleaming tools, the blue-green light of the overhead lamp, the masked faces of the medical staff. The nurse noticed her distress and offered a reassuring smile, but it did little to ease her mind. She wanted to scream, to tell them to be careful, but she knew better than to disturb the surgery. With a grunt of effort, the surgeon finally managed to loosen the second tooth. Karen could feel Plankton's hand spasm in hers, a reflexive response that had her heart racing. But his face remained serene, his snores unchanged. She watched as the tooth was lifted out, a tiny drop of b!ood escaping from the gum. It was placed on the tray with its twin, two small, sharp reminders of the paın he had endured. The surgeon moved to the third tooth, his movements now more practiced, more confident. The extraction of the third tooth was swift, almost anticlimactic. The fourth, however, was a different story. It was impacted, buried deep in the bone, and the surgeon's expression grew taut as he attempted to coax it out. Karen could feel the tension in the room, the air thick with it. The whirring of the drill was a steady background noise, punctuated by the occasional spurt of water and the smell of bone dust. Plankton's chest continued to rise and fall evenly. The surgeon leaned in closer, his brow furrowed with concentration. Karen watched as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, despite the coolness of the surgıcal suite. The nurse stood by, ready with gauze and more tools. Plankton's face was a mask of peace, his møuth a dısturbıng contrast of serenity and the tug of war taking place within. With a final, firm pull, the fourth tooth gave way, accompanied by a sound that made Karen's stߋmach churn. It was a wet, final release, and the nurse swiftly handed over the tray to catch the tooth. The surgeon wiped the b!ood with a quick, efficient motion, revealing the gaping hole where the tooth once had been. The surgical assistant suctioned the b!ood, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Plankton's bødy jerked slightly, but he remained asleep, lost in the depths of the anesthesia. Karen couldn't help but think about the paın Plankton must have felt before this moment. The constant, throbbing ache that had kept him up at night, the swollen jaw that had made eating a chore. Now, it was over, or at least the worst part was. The surgeon nodded to the nurse, who began to prepare the stitches that would close the wounds. The needle glinted in the harsh light, a stark contrast to Plankton's slack, unfeeling features. The surgical team moved efficiently, their movements choreographed by years of experience. They stitched and cleaned, ensuring that everything was perfect before they allowed him to wake. Karen felt a strange mix of relief and fear. Relief that the ordeal was almost over, fear of the paın that would come once the anesthesia wore off. As the surgeon finished his work, he nodded to the anesthesiologist. "He's all set. We're going to start bringing him out of it now." Karen watched as the anesthetic was turned down. The nurse wiped his face with a damp cloth, gently cleaning the b!ood and saliva. Karen spoke to him in a soothing voice, "Plankton, you're almost done. Time to wake up." Plankton's eyelid fluttered, his hand still in Karen's tight grasp. His eye opened slowly, unfocused at first, then gradually finding her face. He blinked several times, his gaze uncomprehending. The nurse smiled at him, "You did great."

Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."

ANTENNAE i Plankton found himself in a sticky situation. In his haste, he collided with a submerged rock, and with a painful snap, one of his antennae broke dangling in half. His computer wife Karen took him to a clinic. The receptionist, a kind octopus named Tentacla, took his information and assured Dr. Dolittlefish would see him shortly. "Plankton?" Dr. Dolittlefish called out, his voice echoing through the room. Plankton walked in, Karen trailing behind. The doctor examined the fractured antenna. Plankton winced, feeling a sharp pain as the doctor prods it gently. Dr. Dolittlefish chuckled, "We'll need to perform a repair, and for that, you'll need a touch of anesthesia. It'll make you feel like you're floating on a cloud.." Plankton's one good antenna perked up with interest. "A magical elixir that will put you into a state of deep relaxation," Dr. Dolittlefish explained, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles. "You'll be completely unaware of the surgery. We give you a little dose to make you drowsy. It's like sinking into a warm, bubble bath after a long day of plotting. Trust me, you'll wake up with a fixed antenna and no memories of the procedure. It's like a nap that'll keep you unconscious and pain-free throughout the operation. It's tailored for each patient, so you'll only get what you need." Turning to Karen, who had been quietly observing the exchange, the doctor said, "Karen, if you have any concerns, feel free to ask. Your husband's safety is my top priority. I'll be sure to take into account." Karen sighed, her circuits whirring as she searched for the right words. "Well, Plankton has always had trouble with deep sleep. He's a bit of a light sleeper, you see. Even the slightest disturbance and he's up for the day. It's hard for him to get to sleep." The doctor nodded, scribbling more notes. "I see," he said thoughtfully. "That does add a layer of complexity to the anesthesia. We'll need to be precise with the dosage to ensure he remains asleep throughout the surgery without any complications. We'll use the lightest touch possible and administer the anesthesia in a way that minimizes discomfort." Dr. Dolittlefish turned to Plankton. "Now, when you wake up, it'll be like coming out of a delightful dream. You'll feel a bit groggy, like you've just emerged from a particularly long nap. You might be a tad disoriented, but that's perfectly normal. Your body will be feeling the effects of the medication wearing off, so it's crucial that you rest for a while in our recovery area." Plankton's eye searched Karen', looking for reassurance. She nodded firmly, gripping his tiny hand. "You'll be okay, Plankton. I'll be right here." The doctor nodded. "Karen, you can accompany him into the surgery room. But remember, you'll have to go and stay outside once the actual procedure begins." The next day, Plankton and Karen returned to the clinic, feeling a mix of anxiety and hope. The lobby was filled with various sea creatures, all waiting for their appointments with their own assortment of woes and ailments. "Come on, Plankton," Karen urged, her voice steady. "You've got this." Dr. Dolittlefish took his place at the head of the operating table, a serious look on his face. "Alright, Plankton," he said, his voice steady, "It's time for the anesthesia. This might feel a bit strange, but remember, it's just like drifting off to sleep." With a flick of his fin, he administered the first dose through a small tube connected to a bubble filled with the sedative. The bubble popped, and Plankton felt a warm sensation spread through his body. It started in his toes and traveled up to his antennae, making them feel weightless. His eye grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a sigh. The room began to spin gently, the sounds around him becoming muffled, like the distant hum of a lullaby sung by the ocean currents. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the cushions seemingly made of the softest sea foam. "How do you feel?" Dr. Dolittlefish's voice was a comforting murmur. "Woozy," Plankton slurred, his eyelid fluttering. The room was a blur of lights and colors, like a kaleidoscope of bubbles. The pain in his antenna was fading, replaced by a pleasant numbness. Karen squeezed his hand tightly, her grip the only solid thing in his swirling world. She watched him closely, her LED eyes full of worry. "It's ok, Plankton," she murmured. "You're going to be fine." The doctor nodded to her encouragement. "I want you to count backwards from one hundred ok?" Plankton, already feeling the warm embrace of the anesthesia, began his count with a lazy sensation. "One hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." His voice grew softer with each number, the digits slipping away like grains of sand through his tiny fingers. The world around him grew fuzzy, like a TV show losing signal. The lights above looked like distant stars, their brightness dimming as he descended into the abyss of unconsciousness. "...eighty-four... eighty-three... eighty-two..." His eye now half-closed, the surgery room's noises melding into a symphony of comforting whispers. The gentle sway of the seaweed outside the clinic's windows seemed to be rocking him to sleep. His voice grew more faint, words slurring together. Karen watched him count, her gaze never leaving his face. She could feel his hand loosening in hers, his grip becoming as light as a feather. Each number he uttered was a step closer to the surgery that would hopefully restore his antenna to its former glory. The count grew slower, like a snail on a leisurely stroll across the ocean floor. His voice was a mere murmur, the words barely discernible. Karen could see his tiny chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern, his breathing growing deeper and more relaxed with each passing moment. The colors around them bled into one another, creating a dreamlike landscape. The lights above danced like jellyfish in a moonlit lagoon, casting eerie shadows across the gleaming surgical instruments. Plankton's eye fully closed now, his count barely a whisper. Each word was a soft ripple in the vast ocean of sleep that was consuming him. The whirring of the machines and the occasional splash of water seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing. Karen watched, her heart swelling with love and fear as she listened to the dwindling numbers. Plankton's voice was now a faint echo, his body going slack. The room was still, save for the hypnotic pulse of the anesthesia bubbles and Plankton's shallow breaths. Karen held her own breath, her screen never leaving his face. His count grew quieter still, each number a soft, barely perceptible sigh. Karen felt the tension in her limbs ease as she watched the lines of worry on Plankton's forehead smooth out. His sleep was finally deep and peaceful, the anesthesia working its magic. "Thirty-four... thirty-three..." His voice was a mere ripple in the vast sea of quiet that filled the room. The last number slipped away, and Plankton's count stopped, his breathing deep and even. Karen felt the weight of his hand in hers, a silent testament to his complete surrender to the anesthesia's embrace. She watched Plankton's chest rise and fall with each steady breath, his body utterly relaxed with his eye sealed shut slightly. The surgery room, once a cacophony of fear and doubt, was now a sanctuary of peace, the only sounds the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and Plankton's soft snores. The doctor nodded, satisfied with the sedation's effect. "Alright, Karen, he finally fell asleep," he whispered, patting Plankton's shoulder. "Now, we'll proceed with the actual procedure." Karen swallowed hard, nodding her head. She had never seen Plankton so vulnerable, but she knew this was for the best. "I'll be right outside," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She leaned in and kissed Plankton's forehead before letting go. With a final squeeze of his hand, she reluctantly let go and went towards the door. The doctor nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the delicate task ahead. As the door slid shut with a soft hiss, Karen found herself in the stark, sterile waiting room. The walls were lined with sea-themed art, an attempt to provide comfort in a place filled with uncertainty and anxiety. She hovered over to the plush sea sponge chair, the material reminding her of home. Her tentacles wrapped around the phone, her movements deliberate and precise as she dialed the numbers. The first call was to Spongebob, she knew he would want to know about the accident. The line rang, and she hoped he'd pick up. "Karen?" "Spongebob, it's about Plankton," she began, her voice trembling. "He's had an accident, and he's in surgery now." "Oh no!" Sponge Bob exclaimed, his bubbly enthusiasm dimming. "Can I talk to Plankton during the surgery?" "No, they put Plankton to sleep," Karen explained, her tentacles gripping the phone tightly. "But I'll let him know you called as soon as he wakes up." "Thank you, Karen," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Tell him I'm thinking of him." The receptionist, Tentacla, noticed her distress and swam over. "Is everything okay?" she asked, her tentacles poised to offer comfort or assistance. "It's just... I've never seen him like this," Karen admitted, her voice wavering. "So... vulnerable." Tentacla nodded sympathetically, her tentacles reaching out to pat Karen's arm. "It's tough, I know. But Dr. Dolittlefish is the best in the business. Plankton's in good fins."

ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃ ˡᵉᵍ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵈ‧" ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃʳᵉᵃ‧ ᶠʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶠⁱˣ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴬⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵈ'ˢ ᵈⁱᵃᵍᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶠʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉʳʸ ᵇᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉˢ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵘᵇᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃˢᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿʸ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ‧ 'ᴴᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʸᵉᵗ' ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ "ᴹᵃʸ ᴵ ᵃˢᵏ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ?" ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳʸ ʳᵉᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶠʳᵃᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒⁿᵉ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍ'ˢ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒˢᵃᵍᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧" ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᶠʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ! ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ?" ᴴᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵘⁿʰᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ˢˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᶠʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵐʸ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴳᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵉᵃ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉᵃ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉˡⁱᵛᵉʳ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱᵗ! ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ⁱᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ‧" ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᶠʳᵉᵈ ˢᵃʷ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵘⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵃˡ ʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ⸴ ᶠʳᵉᵈ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃ ʳᵉᵍᵘˡᵃʳ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧

Date: 15/12/22 Support Tips: Preparation: in order to best prepare some actions might include ~ Considering your sensory needs- pack a bag with sensory aids such as headphones, earplugs, coloured glasses, stim tools, comfort items and so on to support your comfort whilst at your appointment. Considering your communication needs- perhaps take a trusted friend or family member to support with verbal communication, a hospital passport that you can share with staff or notes including scripted comments or responses that you can refer to during the appointment to support with or replace verbal speech. Wear suitable clothing that can be easily taken on and off. To minimise uncertainty, research what is involved in the procedure before attending so that you have a good idea what to expect. Write out a list of questions to avoid relying on memory during a potentially stressful experience. Plan your travel route in advance and leave plenty of time to get to your appointment to minimise anxiety and allow time to adjust to the environment upon arrival. Engage in calming, grounding techniques prior to the appointment start time. During: whilst at the appointment it may be helpful to ~ Ask for the nurse practitioner to talk you through the procedure in full before it commences, preferably with use of images or demonstrations with relevant equipment. Be open about which aspects of the experience you might struggle with as an Autistic person and request particular adjustments. Engage in grounding techniques such as mindful breathing. Hold on to a stim object that is comforting or acts as a stress reliever. Listen to music to support self-regulation. Share your concerns or worries with the nurse practitioner to invite reassurance or helpful advice. Remember your reason for attending and why it is important for you. Aftercare: following the procedure, it is a good idea to plan in some time for self-care and self-regulation, some ideas might include ~ Get yourself into a sensory safe space where things feel predictable and calm (for e.g. a quiet room with dim lighting, weighted blanket etc). Arrange to debrief/chat to a friend or another supportive person about your experience after leaving your appointment. Arrange to meet with a trusted person following the procedure to support you with getting back home or perhaps to do something you might enjoy together. Engage in your dedicated interest. Acknowledge your achievement in attending and getting through the appointment. Journal about your experience to help with emotional processing. Engage in your favourite stim to release any tension that may remain in your b0dy. Allow yourself to physically rest or sleep once back at home. Date: 15/12/22

Surgeon Robert Liston In 1847, a doctor performed an amputation in 25 seconds, operating so quickly that he accidentally amputated his assistant's fingers as well. Both later died of sepsis, and a spectator reportedly died of shock, resulting in the only known procedure with a 300% mortality rate.

I went to the plastic surgeon for a consultation . The doctor looked at me and said , " Don't do this . You're too beautiful just the way , you are . Don't change . " That doctor gmh . 2011.

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laparohysterosalpingooophorectomy .---. .---. / .-. `. .' .-. \ /-( `. `._______.' .' )-\ ( ) \ / ( ) `-' \ / `-' \ / \ / |`-^-'| | | .---. .---. / .-./ \.-. \ /-( /`._______.'\ )-\ ( ) \ / ( ) `-' \ / `-' \ / \ / |`-^-'| | | /`._______.'\ \ / \ / \ / \ / |`-^-'| | | .-----. |`-^-'| | |

6/6/10 Perhaps your dentist has recommended you have your wisdom teeth removed. IV sedation allows patients to nap during the surgery. The anesthesia medications are given through the IV line and you’ll feel quite tired and sleepy. Once you are completely asleep and comfortable, the surgeon places local anesthesia to numb the extraction areas. A rubber bite block helps to support your jaw during surgery and also keeps your mouth open if you are being sedated. Anesthesia medications are given as needed to make sure you remain asleep and comfortable. If IV sedation was administered, you will awaken shortly after surgery and be escorted to the recovery room. Your mouth will feel numb from the local anesthesia which will help keep you comfortable and pain free. At end of surgery, you will awake to a tap on your shoulder and a gentle voice. The surgeon will reassure you that surgery is finished and everything went well. Monitors and IV are removed and you are escorted to the recovery room. A few minutes later, your loved ones can keep you company as you recover from the anesthesia. During this time, you will become increasingly awake and alert and gradually be able to standup by your self. You are then escorted to the car.

local anesthesia (you're awake and may feel pressure but shouldn't feel pain), sedation (you're awake but with lessened consciousness and won't remember much) or general anesthesia (you're completely knocked out and won't remember jack)

Date: 15/12/22 Autistic qualities such as differences in how we understand what our body is feeling (interoception), our experience of pain (hypo/ hyper sensitivity) and difficulties in noticing and identifying how we feel (alexithymia) Nurse practitioners and doctors may have a limited understanding of the unique and significant ways in which autism and its associated issues impact a patient’s experience of a given medical procedure. This means that the particular supports that might help to alleviate discomfort could be lacking. We might encounter resistance to our own attempts to self- regulate and take care of our sensory and emotional needs during the appointment. We may even experience medical gas lighting or invalidation when attempting to express our experience or request much needed accommodations ( we know that this happens at higher rates amongst female presenting people, people of colour and those with additional learning disabilities in our community). For those of us with a history of these types of experiences, just being in a medical environment could feel threatening and unsafe. * Autistic person with a particular set of qualities and traits, this is not a prediction of what others might encounter or an attempt to generalise my own experience to the broader community. Date: 15/12/22

The Red Wristband A doctor was working at a hospital, a hospital where the patients were tagged with coloured bands. Green: alive. Red: deceased. One night, the doctor was instructed to get a few supplies from the basement of the hospital, and so he headed to the lift. The lift doors opened and there was a patient inside, minding her own business. Patients were allowed to roam around the hospital to stretch, especially those who have stayed long. The rule was to be back in their rooms before ten. The doctor smiled at the patient before pressing the number for the basement. He found it unusual that the woman didn’t have a button already pressed. He wondered if she was heading to the basement too. The lift finally reached the floor where the doors opened. In the distance a man was limping towards the elevator, and in a panic the doctor slammed the elevator button to close. It finally did and the lift began to ascend back up, the doctor’s heart pounding. “Why did you do that? He was trying to use the lift.” The woman stated, annoyed. “Did you see his wrist?” The doctor asked, “It was red. He died last night. I would know because I did his surgery.” The woman lifted her wrist. He saw red. She smiled. “Like this one?”

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DOCTORs APPOINTMENTs Before a procedure, get to meet the physician and acknowledge their authority before you mention your sensitivities. Find a way to make a compromise. Even request more time for an appointment if you want to have topical numbing agents wait to work, to discuss alternatives, etc. Before a procedure, look up the physician and/or the clinic website. Find pictures of the inner building and search for FAQ, policies, procedures, reviews, etc. Before a procedure, bring a fully charged phone and any sensory necessities such as plastic cups for water, ice pack, self testing kits, written notes and copies, etc. TIPS For CHECKs Feel the instruments and get comfortable with them. Ex: at the dentist, you’re weary of the suction straw. If no plastic cups for rinsing, ask them for some or, have them turn the suction on a low setting and feel it with your finger before they use it in your mouth. Perhaps they can put something on if you don’t like the sucking noise. See how you feel with the specific doctor. Ex: Dr. A seems hurried and strict, but Dr. B seems more empathetic. Or perhaps ask if a nurse can be in the room with you to. Try having the doctor teach you how much you can do. Ex: for a strep throat test, ask if you can swab your own throat, even have them hold your hand whilst you do it in a mirror. Or tell them the way your throat’s structure may find it easier to tilt, etc. (my search NeuroFabulous)

"You're going to be okay," Karen assured Plankton. He clutched her hand. "I'm right here." The receptionist's voice echoed through the large waiting room. "Plankton?" Karen's heart jumped. She squeezed her husband's hand. They walked down the hallway, Plankton's breaths shallow, eye darting around the white, sterile walls. The nurse led them to a small room. "Just a few questions," the nurse smiled, her voice soothing as she helped him in the recliner. The nurse, noticing his agitation, spoke slowly and clearly. "We're just going to take your blood pressure, okay?" The nurse wrapped the cuff around his bicep, her movements gentle. The hiss of the air pump filled the tense silence. "Look at me, Plankton," Karen whispered, her calming gaze meeting his. "Take deep breaths." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling in a deliberate rhythm. The nurse waited patiently, giving them space. As the cuff tightened, Plankton's eye squeezed shut. The nurse completed her task quickly, her voice steady. "Good job," she said, patting his hand. Karen felt his fear spike, but his grip on her hand remained firm as the oral surgeon walked in. Dr. Marquez nodded at them, his demeanor calm and professional. "Hello, Plankton. I see we're getting ready for your wisdom teeth." He noticed Plankton's tension and turned to Karen. "You earlier mentioned his neurodisability. Is there anything special we can do to help make him comfortable?" Karen's screen lit up with gratitude. "Yes, thank you." She explained his need for calm and his sensory sensitivities. Dr. Marquez nodded thoughtfully. "We can use a weighted blanket to help with that. It provides a gentle pressure that can be quite comforting for some of my patients." He turned to the nurse. "Could you please bring one?" The nurse nodded and left the room. When she returned, she carried a soft, blue weighted blanket they warmed. They placed the blanket over Plankton, the weight evenly distributed. His body visibly relaxed under its soothing embrace. "It's okay," Karen whispered, stroking his antennae. "This will help." Plankton felt the warmth of the blanket, the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders and chest. But it did little to ease his dread. "Thank you, Dr. Marquez," Karen managed a smile, relief washing over her. She knew how important these accommodations were for her husband. The doctor explained the procedure, using simple terms that Plankton could understand. Karen noted how he tailored his explanation to avoid overwhelming details that might trigger anxiety. The anesthesiologist entered, her smile kind. "We're going to give you some medicine to help you sleep," she said gently, "and then you'll wake up without feeling a thing." Plankton nodded, his eye wide. Karen leaned in, her voice low. "You can hold my hand as you fall asleep." The anesthesiologist prepared the IV, but Plankton's grip on Karen's hand grew tighter. Dr. Marquez noticed his distress and suggested a different approach. "How about some laughing gas first?" he offered. "And perhaps a topical numbing agent.." The nurse quickly set up the gas mask, explaining each step. "This will help you relax," she said, placing it over him. "Just breathe normally." The sweet smell of the nitrous oxide filled him, yet he still remained awake. "It's okay, Plankton," Karen said soothingly. "Just keep breathing." He took a tentative breath, feeling the gas fill his lungs. The room began to spin, but not in the scary way he'd feared. It was more like floating. The weight of the blanket now felt like a gentle hug from the ocean depths, a warm embrace from his childhood home. Dr. Marquez waited until Plankton's breathing steadied, each gesture carefully calculated to avoid any sudden movements that might startle his patient. "You're doing great," he assured Plankton, his voice a gentle wave lapping at the shore of his anxiety. "You're almost there." Plankton inhaled another lungful of gas, his eye fluttering closed. The nurse gently began applying the topical numbing agent, her movements carefully choreographed to avoid any sudden jolts. Karen held his other hand, her thumb tracing comforting circles on his palm. "You're safe," she whispered. "I'm here." The gas grew heavier, his mind drifted further from the cold reality of the room. He felt himself sinking into the chair, the weighted blanket now a warm sea of comfort. His grip on Karen's hand grew looser, his breaths deepening. The doctor nodded to the anesthesiologist, who began the IV drip after using the topical numbing agent. Plankton's fear didn't vanish, but it became manageable, a distant thunderstorm rather than a hurricane in his face. His eye closed completely, his body going limp under the blanket. Karen watched as the surgical team moved with precision, their masks and caps dancing in her peripheral vision. The beeping of machines and the murmur of medical jargon filled her ears, but all she focused on was the rhythm of Plankton's breathing. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors and gave a nod. "He's ready," she said quietly. Dr. Marquez took his position, his gloved hands poised over Plankton's now open mouth after removing the gas mask. Karen's gaze was steady, her love and support unwavering as the surgical team moved in unison. The whirring of the instruments began, a soft mechanical lullaby to the background of Plankton's deep, even breaths. The surgery itself was a dance of precision, each gesture a step carefully choreographed to minimize discomfort. The doctor's hands were steady as he removed the wisdom teeth. Karen could see the tense lines in Plankton's face soften under the influence of the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist checked the monitors continuously, ensuring his vital signs remained steady. The nurse offered Karen a chair, but she chose to stand, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. As the surgery progressed, Karen felt the tension in the room ease. The surgical team worked with efficiency, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. Dr. Marquez spoke in hushed tones with his assistants, each word a gentle whisper in the symphony of medical sounds. Plankton's breaths steadied, the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor a soothing reminder that he was still with her, that his anxiety had been replaced by the peacefulness of deep sedation. The doctor's instruments continued to dance, a silent ballet of precision and care. The nurse occasionally glanced at Karen, offering a reassuring smile as they suture his gums with dissolving stitches. "Alright, we're all done," Dr. Marquez announced, his voice a gentle interruption to the symphony of beeps and whirs. "Let's wake him up slowly." Karen felt her own heart rate spike as the anesthesiologist began reversing the medication. They removed the IV drip and the nurse wiped Plankton's mouth with a soft cloth, her touch as gentle as a sea anemone caressing his skin. His eye flickered open, unfocused and hazy. He blinked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Karen's screen was the first thing he saw, a beacon in the medical fog. "You're okay," she murmured, her voice the gentle hum of a distant lighthouse guiding his consciousness back to shore. Plankton blinked again, his vision swimming into focus. The weighted blanket was still wrapped around him, the comforting pressure now a grounding reminder of her presence. His mouth felt foreign, as if it belonged to someone else. The nurse offered him water, and he sipped it slowly, feeling the coolness soothe his throat. "How do you feel?" Dr. Marquez asked, his voice a soft wave breaking over the shore of Plankton's awareness. Plankton nodded, his grip on Karen's hand firm. "Good," he managed to murmur, his voice thick with the aftermath of the anesthesia. Karen could see the relief in his eye, the storm of fear now a distant memory. ( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )