Content Note

This post discusses chronic illness, migraines, fatigue, overexertion, medical routines, and the emotional realities of living in a disabled body. Please read at your own pace and take care of yourself.

Welcome to the Den

Welcome to The Crippled Cryptid: Saturday Health Updates.

This is your gentle heads up before we begin.
These posts talk openly about chronic illness, disability, medical trauma, hospital visits, symptoms, and the unfiltered reality of living in a body that doesn’t always cooperate.

Some weeks are soft reflections.
Some weeks are heavy.

Please check in with yourself before reading and come back when you’re in the right headspace.
No one will ever judge you for skipping a post here.

We understand that things get heavy, especially in spaces like this.

If you’re new here, hi. I’m Sky.
Professional cryptid.
Unwilling amateur cyborg.
Occasional chronic illness and disability advocate.

Medically complex enough to make my chart look like a horror anthology. I cope with sarcasm, stubborn hope, whatever snacks survived the week, and a concerning amount of coffee.

Or it would be if my cardiologist recognized POTS as a real disability, to him it’s just “the TikTok disease.”

Most days are lived in a haunted meat suit with a questionable warranty and a long-standing feud with my nervous system.

I spend a lot of time in Bed Jail™, but I’m rarely alone thanks to Luna, my medical alert service dog.
Guardian. Enforcer. Tiny chaos gremlin with a medical degree she absolutely gave herself.

She’s the voice that says,
“Hey. Sit down.”

And when I ignore her, she upgrades to:
“Mumther, we are not negotiating with your bad decisions today.”

I like to joke that she’s the sassiest spirit guide there is, but when you’re a cryptid who is notoriously good at ignoring red flags from your own body, you need a spirit guide with teeth.

There’s also M&M.
My Player 2. My soft place to land.

The one who shows up with ginger ale, soup, and the kind of quiet strength that keeps the world from tipping sideways when my body decides to startle everyone.

She gives the 90% when I only have 10%, and she reminds me that survival is still a team effort.

This space is for chronic illness without inspiration porn.
Disability without apologies.
Honesty without pretending it’s always neat or hopeful or easy.

There will probably be dog hair involved.

If you’ve been here before, welcome back.
If you’re new, take a breath. You don’t have to prove anything to exist here.

This Week’s Verdict: Luna Says I’ve Been “Very Bad”

On today’s health update:

If Luna Bean were writing this, she would like you to know that I have been deeply irresponsible this week.

And… she wouldn’t be wrong.

🐾 Luna’s Official Report

Patient (Mumther) has exhibited the following behaviors:

• Ignoring early warning signs 🚨
• Engaging in Excessive Cleaning Activities™
• Walking Four (4) Entire Miles without proper authorization
• Attempting to override migraine protocol

Corrective actions taken:

• Level 626 Clinger Mode activated
• Emotional Support Pressure applied
• Judgmental Staring (sustained)

Prognosis:
Mumther is stubborn but salvageable. Continued supervision required.

The Setup: Spring Cleaning Like I Have Something to Prove

This week kicked off with my dad and his wife coming over.

Which meant I went full spring-cleaning cryptid mode.

Not because anyone asked me to.
Not because anyone expected perfection.

But because I wanted it to feel like a home.
Because he’s my dad. (That’s still weird to say out loud.)
Because sometimes love looks like overexertion wrapped in good intentions.

Dust bunnies were evicted. No survivors.

The First Mistake: “Let’s Stay Up Late” (Famous Last Words)

After they left, M&M and I stayed up way too late talking.

You know those moments where something good happens and you don’t want to let the feeling go stale?
Where sleep feels like an interruption instead of a necessity?

Yeah. That.

Unfortunately, my body does not accept “but it was meaningful” as a valid excuse.

Allergy Shots & Migraine Roulette

The next morning:

Rain.
Migraine.
Electrolytes.
A Nurtec offering to the migraine gods.

Did it help?
Debatable.

Did I try?
Absolutely.

Seeing Tracy and Julie helped. They always do. There’s something about being known in medical spaces that softens the edges a little.

The Four-Mile Mistake

Then came what I will now refer to as:

A Decision™

We walked.
A lot.

By the time we got home, my Apple Watch informed me that I had walked nearly four miles.

Four.

Miles.

My body hasn’t done that in a long time.

So yes, I was proud.
But also… immediately sentenced to Bed Jail™.

Luna went full level 626 clinger mode, her chin parked on me like a very judgmental paperweight, because clearly I cannot be trusted to supervise myself.

Small Joys & Questionable Buffets

The buffet situation?
Tragic. Sticky. Regrettable shrimp.

But the day wasn’t a total loss.

We thrifted.
We found safe foods.
We scored five cases of strawberry Canada Dry like we were preparing for a very specific apocalypse. But when Jewel-Osco offers you a buy 2 get 3 free sale, you jump on it and Uber home triumphant.

Also tried peach Mr. Pibb.

Obsessed. No notes.

Migraine Season: Featuring Weather That Can’t Commit

The rest of the week has been… migraine central.

The weather is playing emotional ping pong.
Warm. Cold. Rain. Not rain. Just enough chaos to keep my nervous system in a constant state of “absolutely not.”

It feels like someone is tapping a baton against the inside of my skull and refuses to stop.

The Quiet Middle: Missing the Yard Yeti

With the Yard Yeti gone this week, things have felt… off.

Quieter, but not in a peaceful way.
More like the kind of quiet that makes every sound feel too loud.

M&M and I kept things lowkey. Ordered soup. Took it easy.

But I miss him.
We both do.

Even Luna Bean has filed a formal complaint and would like him to return immediately.

Where I Landed This Week

If I had to sum it up:

I pushed too hard.
I paid for it.
I’m still paying for it.

But there were good moments threaded through it all.

And sometimes that’s what a week looks like.

Not a win.
Not a loss.

Just… lived in.

I’m still learning that doing my best and doing too much can look dangerously similar.

This is your reminder that overdoing it doesn’t always feel like a mistake in the moment. Sometimes it feels like love, or excitement, or wanting to feel normal again.

But then, you pay for it again later.

Does that mean we regret it? No.

It just means we need to hydrate more, listen to the Service Dingo™ and take it easy on ourselves.

Before You Go — A Soft Check-In

If something here hit close to home, you’re not alone.
If you stayed anyway, thank you.

You don’t have to earn your place here.

Before you go, a soft little check-in from the Lunatic Café:

Take your meds if it’s time.
Drink some water.
Eat something small, even if it’s just a few bites.

No gold stars required.
Just a reminder from one haunted meat suit to another.

-Sky
© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability. Honesty. Survival without the performance.

🔗 https://linktr.ee/skylanarissa

No pressure to donate. Reading, sharing, and existing alongside me is already enough.
💜 https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-skys-journey-to-health-and-mobility