Live From the Adhesive Dimension
Content Note:
This post discusses medical testing, sensory overload, adhesive reactions, sleep disruption, and in-home medical monitoring/cameras. Please take care of yourself first and come back when you’re ready. Skipping posts is always allowed here.
This One’s Outside Our Usual Programming
Mondays aren’t normally for health talk here, but this felt too real-time to wait until Saturday. Silence after medical testing can feel louder than updates, and I didn’t want anyone worrying in the quiet after the 3-day EEG got glued on Friday.
You’ve had the basics. Luna’s Takeover. The Saturday Health Check-In. The Sunday post I scheduled to keep you all occupied.
Aside from that, though, it’s been… quiet on my end. Quiet… and adhesive.
If you’re new, hi. I’m Sky.
Professional cryptid.
Reluctant cyborg sequel.
Occasional disability advocate.
Full-time haunted meat suit trying to coexist with a nervous system that treats jump scares like a cute, quirky little personality trait. I would very much like it to stop doing that.
Luna is still on duty as my tiny chaos gremlin with a medical degree she absolutely gave herself, and M&M is still my Player 2 keeping me upright when things get weird, uncomfortable, or hard to manage.
The Quick Update
I’m okay. I’m alive. Just extremely over it.
The EEG itself is… a lot.
One of the leads let go before we even got home Friday night while we were still in the Uber, which felt like a bad omen right out of the gate. I’m still frustrated we had to Uber out there at all when I was told someone would come to the house to make this easier. Accessibility shouldn’t hinge on last-minute changes or mixed messaging. It shouldn’t feel like a plot twist.
And I shouldn’t have had to pay $60 in Uber fees to avoid a $200 cancellation fee, and having to wait another 4-months to get this test done.
The glue is making my head itch nonstop.
MCAS is turning this whole experience into a boss battle I knew was coming but still hate fighting. Adhesive and I are not friends, especially the kind that feels like wall caulk disguised as medical equipment.
I’ve got a bag of wires that has turned sleep into a competitive sport. Half the night I wake up feeling like something’s choking me or crawling on me, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to rip the whole setup off. I know it’s important. I know it’s temporary. But my nervous system has filed a formal complaint.
My sensory issues are screaming.
Somewhere in the middle of all of it, Luna keeps settling against my leg with this heavy sigh like she’s personally supervising the situation, and the faint rustle of the wires reminds me every time I shift that none of this is optional right now.
I’m safe. Just wildly uncomfortable.
The Camera Situation
And the camera?
I hate it.
Bedtime doesn’t feel safe. It feels staged. I can’t joke with M&M the way we normally do. Watching TikToks before bed the way we used to just feels weird. She feels awkward just existing in the space, and everything feels hyper-aware and stiff.
Honestly, I feel that way too.
I’m constantly worried about moving wrong, pulling something loose, or accidentally showing more of myself than I’m comfortable with. No boxers. No tank tops. No nightgowns. No headpats. Just anxiety and a countdown timer.
Luna keeps giving me the “absolutely not” stare every time I mess with the wires, so at least someone in this house has excellent decision-making skills.
You know it isn’t me.
Countdown Mode Activated
I am counting down the minutes until 2pm when this all comes off and my scalp is finally free from whatever industrial glue they used. You bet your ass I’m taking at least an hour hot shower, and shampooing my hair three times to make sure it’s all off of me.
Do I care that my POTS hates hot showers? No.
I will sit in the bottom of the tub if that’s what it takes to make me feel whole and comfortable in my own skin again. Your ghoul gives not one single fuck.
That’s the mini update. Nothing poetic. Just honest. Transparency matters more than sticking to a posting schedule sometimes.
Full chaos report can wait for Saturday.
If you’ve been checking in on me, thank you for holding space while I cosplay as a walking electronics store. Or as my aunt called it, Franken-narissa. I appreciate you more than you know.
A Reminder 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.
Existing is enough today.
–Sky
Professional cryptid. Reluctant cyborg sequel. Still here.
© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability. Honesty. Survival without the performance.
(But always a little dog hair, it’s good for morale.)
🔗 https://linktr.ee/skylanarissa
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If you want to support the long, unglamorous work of survival and mobility:
💜 https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-skys-journey-to-health-and-mobility
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