SANDY LEARNT A SECRET 1/2
"Howdy, y'all!" Sandy
called out, her voice
echoing through the
park. Then she notices
Karen’s husband Plankton,
his eye glazed over,
sitting still. He looked
so out of place, frozen
like a statue by Karen.
"Is he ok?" Sandy
asked with genuine
concern, approaching
them. Karen nodded.
"It's just one of his
moments," she
whispered, hoping
Sandy didn't hear the
anxiety in her voice.
Plankton had autism.
These absence seizures
were something they'd
learned to live with,
like a quirky dance
his body did without
his consent. The park
was a favorite place. But
now, his stillness was
unsettling, a stark
contrast to the
vibrant activity around
them.
Sandy knew Plankton was
different, but she
doesn’t know of his
neurodivergence.
Her heart sank, and she felt a
surge of protectiveness.
"What can I do to
help?" she offered.
"Just talk to him,"
Karen whispered.
"Sometimes that
helps bring him
back." Sandy took a
deep breath and knelt
down beside Plankton,
his gaze vacant as he
stared at the swings.
"Hey, Plankton," she
started, her voice gentle.
"What's got you so
focused?" She watched
his pupil, searching
for any sign of
recognition. There
was none.
Her mind raced with
questions she hadn't
asked before. She knew
he was quirky, had his
own rhythm, but this?
This was new to her.
Sandy gently placed a
hand on his shoulder.
"Is he ok?" she
asked again, her voice
now a low murmur.
But Karen was quick
to intervene, her hand
sliding over Sandy's.
"Don't touch him," she
whispered urgently. "It's
best not to pry during these
spells. It might scare him."
Sandy nodded,
swallowed her curiosity,
and leaned back on her
haunches. "What causes
these... moments?"
Karen sighed.
"It's his autism," she
explained softly. "These
are absence seizures.
They're like little
brain hiccups, where he
simply checks out for a
while."
Sandy's eyes widened,
sympathy swelling in her
chest. "How often do
these happen?"
"More often than I'd
like to admit," Karen
replied with a sad smile.
"But they're usually brief.
It's just part of he
is." She paused, looking
at Plankton with a mix
of love and concern. "But
sometimes, they can be
longer."
Sandy nodded slowly,
absorbing the new
information. "What's it
like for him?" she
asked, her voice low and
caring.
Karen grew
soft. "It's like a
daydream, but without
his control. He doesn't
remember much after..."
Her voice trailed off
as she studied her
husband's unresponsive
face. "But when he
snaps out of it, he's
usually ok. He might be
a bit confused, but he's
always ok. Although
he can wake up feeling
scared or upset sometimes."
Sandy felt her heart
tug with each word. She
could see the love Karen
had for Plankton, and
the pain she held in
silence every time he
slipped away like this. "Does
anything trigger them?"
she probed gently.
"Loud noises, flashing
lights, stress..." Karen
counted off on her
fingers, her gaze drifting
to the bustling park.
"But sometimes, it's just
because his brain needs a
moment."
Sandy nodded,
taking in the quiet
seriousness of Karen's
tone. "What's the best
way to help when
this happens?"
Karen's gaze
flickered to the
swings, where the
children's laughter grew
more distant as they
swung higher. "Just
be patient, and keep
talking to him. Sometimes,
the sound of a familiar
voice can guide him
back."
Sandy took this in,
willing her voice to
steady. "What do you
talk about or say to him?"
Karen shrugged. "I
just talk sweet
nothings. It's more about
keeping a calm, soothing
environment than the
content."
Sandy nodded,
trying to imagine what
that would be like. "How
does he react when he
snaps out of it?"
Karen's expression
softened a bit. "At first,
he's usually a little
disoriented, like waking
up from a deep sleep.
But he sometimes comes
around and tries to play
it off like nothing happened.
It's his way of coping, as he’s a
bit self conscious."
Sandy watched as a
playful breeze rustled
Plankton's antennae, and she
wondered what was
going on behind his
unblinking eye. "Does he
ever get upset when he
realizes what's happened?"
Karen nodded, her grip
on Plankton's hand
tightening slightly. "It's
tough. Sometimes he feels
like he's missed out on
things, or people will
stare."
Sandy's curiosity
was piqued. "What does he
see or feel?"
Karen's eyes searched
the horizon, her thumb
absently stroking Plankton's
knuckles. "I know
it's like a pause in time for
him.."
"Does he hear us?"
Sandy inquired, her
voice a mere breath.
"He might, but it's like
his mind is in a
different place,"
Karen explained, her
eyes never leaving her
husband's. "It's like he's
in a bubble and we're
in the distant background."
Sandy nodded. "How
long do these episodes
usually last?"
Karen shrugged, her
smile tight. "A few
seconds to a few
minutes, rarely
hours. It varies."
Sandy leaned in,
even more curious. "Does
anything he does before
these episodes hint that
one is coming?"
Karen nodded, her
eyes still on Plankton.
"Sometimes he'll get
a little spacey, or his
body might twitch."
"What's the worst one
you've seen?" Sandy
asked, her voice barely
above a whisper.
Karen's smile
disappeared, her eyes
misting over. "One
time, it was at the
supermarket. He was
in the middle of a crowded
aisle, and a child's
laughter triggered one.
The lights were too bright,
the noises too loud. It
was chaos for him. He
was stuck there, unable to
move, while everyone
else bustled around,
oblivious to his silent
distress, which worsened
as they bumped into him
and jostling him even more."
Sandy felt a pang
of empathy. "How did
you get him out of it?"
Karen took a deep
breath, her hand
squeezing Plankton's.
"I talked to him softly,
tried to keep the
environment calm. I
asked the people around
to give us some space. It
wasn't easy, but he
eventually came back to me
on the ride home. He then
took a nap.."
Sandy nodded, her
thoughts racing. "What if
the park’s environment
is perpetuating this one?"
Karen frowned slightly,
glancing around. "It's
possible," she conceded.
"We've had episodes
here before, but they're
usually shorter and less
severe. Let’s drive him home."
Sandy stood up, her
hands still shaking a
little. "Should I move
him, or?"
Karen considered
for a moment. "I’ll
help him up gently."
Together, they approached
Plankton, and Karen
whispered sweetly, "Hey,
sweetie, it's time to go
home." She lifts Plankton's body
holding him in an embrace.
"Let's get him to the
car," Karen said, her voice
still low and soothing as she
carries him.