"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 )