An old friend returns, a tiny cow settles in, recovery takes an unexpected side quest, and somehow there are more chairs around the table than there used to be.
Content Note: Discussion of surgery recovery, chronic pain, medication/steroids, allergic reaction/bee sting, and disability.
🏡 Welcome to The Den
Welcome back to The Crippled Cryptid.
Disability.
Chronic illness.
Service dogs.
Survival without the performance.
If you’re new here…
Hi.
I’m Sky.
Professional Cryptid.
Writer.
Advocate.
Bookworm.
Professional collector of strange facts.
Human being with a nervous system that occasionally wakes up and chooses violence before breakfast.
By the time you’re reading this, one of two things is happening.
If I’m lucky, I’m waking up from a nap after taking the Yard Yeti to the Farmer’s Market.
Because that’s what we do Thursday mornings.
Drop him off at the ass crack of dawn.
Everyone who’s been in my life for approximately 2.5 seconds, or knows anything about my summer routine, knows how this goes.
We do 5 a.m. drop-offs.
I come home.
I sleep.
Only now…
When I wake up, there’s a puppy who needs to go potty.
There is coffee brewing.
The dogs are about to have breakfast.
And somewhere in there, I have to remember that I am still recovering from surgery.
Or…
I’m still nestled beneath an impressive fortress of blankets, just barely two weeks out from surgery, reminding myself that healing isn’t laziness.
Pain medication makes time fuzzy.
The steroids don’t help.
Neither does getting stung by a bee on Tuesday and apparently unlocking the Bonus Steroid Side Quest™ on top of the steroids I already have to take because of surgery.
Everything still aches.
The dishes can wait.
The words will still be here tomorrow.
Healing asks us to move slower than we’re used to.
I’m still learning how to say yes.
Either way…
I wasn’t about to miss Thursday.
Or Blitzy’s potty schedule.
And I still have to get up later to retrieve the Yard Yeti from market.
But don’t worry.
There will still be coffee.
🌲 The Porch Light
Thursday has quietly become one of my favorite days around here.
Not because life magically gets easier.
It doesn’t.
Bodies still hurt.
Appointments still happen.
The weather still insists on arguing with my nervous system.
One moment it’s hot.
Then we get gorgeous almost-fall weather.
Sometimes the sky gets smoky because of Canadian wildfires.
Illinois appears to have misplaced the concept of a season entirely.
But Thursdays have become something different.
A pause.
A porch.
A place where nobody has to pretend they’re doing better than they are.
You don’t have to knock.
You don’t have to explain where you’ve been.
Just come in.
There isn’t any inspiration porn here.
No “everything happens for a reason.”
No expectation that you’ll transform your pain into a motivational speech before you’re allowed to sit down.
Just people.
Doing their best.
Sometimes that best looks like celebrating.
Sometimes it looks like surviving.
Sometimes it looks like getting out of bed, drinking a glass of water, and making it back to bed again.
Sometimes…
That is the victory.
That’s what The Den has become.
Not because of me.
Because of all of us.
Every comment.
Every story.
Every “me too.”
Every Thursday we’ve spent reminding one another that we’re not wandering these woods alone.
That no matter how strange life gets…
There’s always another chair waiting on the porch.
🌿 What’s Carrying Me This Week
This week feels a lot heavier than last week.
Which, frankly, doesn’t feel like it makes all that much sense.
I’m one more week away from surgery.
One more week toward recovery.
But healing apparently doesn’t believe in straight lines.
Sometimes we make big improvements.
And sometimes…
It feels like we’ve taken two big-ass steps in the wrong direction.
Especially when those steps come with steroids that make me feel worse before they do their job.
It’s hard to believe that two Thursdays ago, around this same time, I was being wheeled into an operating room to become one less part cyborg.
There’s anxiety.
I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t.
There’s a lot of relief too.
Because every time someone, whether in my online life or my real one, hears the whole story of what happened, their eyes widen.
And usually, the first words out of their mouth are some variation of:
“What the fuck? That should have never happened to you.”
The truth is…
I agree.
I still cannot believe I lived through it.
And I continue to live through it.
Heal from it.
Every day.
I’ve waited a long time for this.
Healing has been slower than my brain would like…
…and faster than my anxiety expected.
I think that’s probably a healthy place to be.
M&M has spent the week gently reminding me that “feeling a little better” does not mean reorganizing my entire life.
Undertaking 300 new projects.
Or remodeling the house.
Apparently, that’s still not doctor’s orders.
Who knew?
But that’s the cruel little trick of disability sometimes.
The body is struggling.
The mind works fine.
My brain says:
YES. WE CAN DO THE THING.
My body sends back:
Request denied. Please try again in 7–10 business days.
I’m also learning something I wish came easier.
Accepting help isn’t failing.
It’s allowing the people who love you… to love you.
That’s harder than it sounds.
I’m practicing.
And apparently…
Sometimes healing brings people back through doors you didn’t realize you’d missed having open.
M&M and I had an unexpected visitor this week.
An old friend.
Someone I haven’t seen in almost ten years messaged us on Facebook.
She told me she’d been keeping up with my posts.
Reading the blog.
Watching everything that’s happened from somewhere out there beyond the edges of our little woods.
And she wanted to come see us.
To see how I was healing.
To check on me.
And, obviously…
To meet Baby Blitzy.
So, she did.
And honestly?
It was one of the best afternoons M&M and I have had in a long time.
The kind where I mute my phone because nothing going on there is important.
Social media could wait.
If my Dad, or my family members needed me, they have my number, they’d call.
Nothing extraordinary happened.
And maybe that’s exactly what made it extraordinary.
We had dinner.
We talked.
We laughed about the past.
We played with the dogs.
Blitzy got to meet another person who was appropriately impressed by his enormous paws and general Potato-ness.
For a few hours, I wasn’t sitting there measuring recovery in pain levels, medications, or what my body could and couldn’t do yet.
I wasn’t thinking quite so much about the bee sting.
Or the steroids I now have to take because of the bee sting…
…on top of the steroids I’m already taking because apparently my recovery plan needed a side quest.
I was just sitting around with people I care about.
Laughing.
Talking.
Being normal in the wonderfully ordinary way that you don’t realize you’ve missed until it suddenly comes back.
And somewhere in the middle of all of that…
M&M and I realized something.
We missed this.
We missed having friends over.
Hell…
We missed having friends.
Not plans.
Not events.
Not some elaborate reason everyone has to get together.
Just someone coming over for dinner.
Sitting around talking until you realize hours have disappeared.
Playing with the dogs.
Laughing over stories from ten years ago.
Making new stories without even trying.
Our circle has changed a lot over the years.
Some people wandered away.
Some doors closed.
Life happened.
But lately…
Our little circle seems to be growing again.
A puppy came home earlier than expected.
An old friend wandered back into our lives after nearly a decade.
The Den keeps getting a little fuller.
And maybe that’s one of the strangest, loveliest things about this chapter.
While my body is healing…
Other things are healing too.
Things I didn’t even realize needed it.
So…
Thank you again for visiting.
For checking on me.
For loving on our ridiculous dogs.
For sitting around our table and reminding us how much we’d missed something as simple as having a friend over.
Come back soon.
Seriously.
The door’s open.
The dogs will remember you.
And apparently…
So will the Potato.
Then there’s Luna.
She’s been hovering.
Not snack hovering.
Not ball hovering.
Mostly…
“Save me from my new baby brother” hovering.
Now that Blitzø is home, he wants to be everywhere Luna is.
Doing everything she’s doing.
Investigating everything.
Her toys.
Her ears.
Her paws.
Her personal space.
And I allow her to give him all of the appropriate dog corrections.
Because he’s a puppy.
And his primary source of investigation right now is:
MOUTH.
And frankly…
I wouldn’t want Baby Shark trying to put my giant satellite ears in his mouth either if I were Luna Bean.
🐾 Luna’s Weather Report
I regret to inform everyone that the sky, the air, and everything in between remain dramatic.
Thunderstorms.
Sun showers.
Heat.
Humidity.
Pressure changes.
Heat that should frankly apologize.
⭐☆☆☆☆
No biscuits.
Would not recommend.
Also…
Who approved ninety-degree weather before noon?
Certainly not me.
🐾
Illinois weather has been…
Ambitious.
That’s putting it nicely because, what I want to call it is bullshit.
It feels like Mother Nature spun a wheel labeled EVERYTHING and decided the answer was yes.
Needless to say…
Neither Luna, Blitzy, nor I were particularly impressed.
But then…
Life surprised us.
🐾 Under Our Roof
If you somehow missed the paw prints all over the blog this week…
The puppy is home.
Blitzø came home last Wednesday.
Earlier than expected.
One more surprise.
One very spotted surprise.
The Potato™ has entered the field.
If you’ve been wandering these woods with us for a while, you know we’d been counting down the days until he joined our little family.
As it turns out…
Life had other plans.
Sometimes plans change because life gets in the way.
Sometimes they change because life quietly hands you something wonderful a little earlier than expected.
This was the second kind.
The morale boosting kind, that made me happier than I expected.
He’s still settling in.
Still figuring out where all the best nap spots are.
Still discovering that absolutely everything deserves a thorough investigation.
Blankets.
Leaves.
Shoelaces.
Luna’s ears.
His own paws, which I swear arrived 7–10 business days before the rest of him.
He’s wonderfully awkward.
Wonderfully curious.
Wonderfully…
Potato.
Luna has officially been promoted to Big Sister.
She’s handling it exactly the way I hoped she would.
With patience.
With curiosity.
With appropriate corrections.
And with the occasional expression that very clearly says:
“Excuse me… why is the tiny cow touching my ball?”
She’s showing him the yard.
Teaching him the household rules.
Reminding him that some toys are shared…
…and some are absolutely, positively hers.
Watching the two of them begin to learn each other has been one of the brightest parts of a week that otherwise asked a lot from all of us.
The Pack feels a little fuller now.
So does the house.
And apparently…
So does our circle.
Healing is still happening.
The pain is still real.
But joy has a funny habit of showing up anyway.
Sometimes it arrives with oversized paws.
Sometimes it sends you a Facebook message after almost ten years.
Sometimes it sits down at your dinner table…
And somehow makes the whole house feel bigger.
🐾 Luna’s Official Big Sister Report
Subject: Potato
Status: Still here.
He follows me.
He watches me.
He copies me.
He attempts to eat my ears.
I have informed Management.
Management says this is “normal puppy behavior.”
I remain skeptical.
However…
He is learning.
He follows me into the yard.
He watches what I do.
He understands that I am clearly the senior employee in this department.
His ball technique requires improvement.
His legs appear to have been assembled without consulting the rest of his body.
But…
He is Pack.
I suppose we will keep him.
🐾
🌿 Your Thursday Check-In
Enough about me.
How are you?
Really.
Not the answer you’d give someone in passing.
Not the automatic:
“I’m fine.”
The real one.
If today feels heavy…
If your body feels loud…
If your mind won’t stop racing…
Let’s make the question a little smaller.
🌿 One word for today.
🌿 One thing your body needs.
🌿 One thing you survived this week.
That’s enough.
It all counts.
If you can…
Relax your jaw.
Drop your shoulders.
Unclench your hands.
Take a sip of water.
Shift into a position that’s a little kinder to your body.
Take one slow breath.
You don’t have to solve your whole life before dinner.
You only have to get through today.
Sometimes…
That’s the bravest thing we’ll do all week.
One of my favorite things about Thursdays is that this isn’t really my check-in anymore.
It’s ours.
🐾 Luna Says…
Hydration check.
Yes.
You.
I’m talking to you.
Go take a sip.
I’ll wait.
…
Good job.
Carry on.
🐾
🌙 Learning to Rest
I’ve spent a lot of my life believing that pushing through was the only option.
Sometimes…
It was.
Sometimes surviving meant ignoring everything my body was trying to tell me because there simply wasn’t another choice.
That version of me deserves compassion.
She got me here.
But survival isn’t where we’re supposed to build a permanent home.
It’s the bridge.
Not the destination.
Recovery isn’t something we earn after we’ve pushed ourselves to the breaking point.
Sometimes recovery begins the moment we give ourselves permission to rest before our bodies have to force the issue.
I’m still learning what that looks like.
Some days I do pretty well.
Other days I catch myself thinking:
“Maybe I could just fold the laundry…”
Thankfully…
I have people who are much better at reminding me than I am at listening.
M&M.
The Yard Yeti.
Luna.
Blitzø.
My little Pack.
And this week…
An old friend sitting at our table again.
They’re teaching me that healing isn’t something I have to earn.
Sometimes it’s something I have to allow.
They’re reminding me that productivity isn’t the measure of a life.
Love is.
Presence is.
Showing up for one another is.
Even if showing up looks like sitting quietly on the porch with a cup of coffee while the dogs wrestle in the yard.
Or sending someone a message after ten years and saying:
Hey. I’ve been keeping up. Can I come see you?
Maybe especially then.
I’m finally trying to believe them.
🐾 Luna’s Recovery Reminder
Today’s approved activities include:
🐾 Guard Mumther.
🐾 Supervise Potato.
🐾 Take a nap.
🐾 Encourage everyone else to take a nap.
🐾 Accept visitors who understand proper dog admiration protocol.
🐾 Repeat as necessary.
I fail to see the problem.
🐾
🌲 Life Around The Den
The blog may or may not slow down just a little while I heal.
That’s okay.
Healing deserves time too.
I’ve worked ahead where I could.
Folklore Wednesdays are waiting.
Bed Jail™ Broadcasts are already queued up.
Stories are standing patiently in line.
And every now and then…
I’ll be granted a little parole from Bed Jail™ to come sit on the porch with all of you.
Because I missed this.
I missed you.
And apparently…
I missed a few things outside the blog too.
People around the dinner table.
Dogs weaving between everyone’s legs.
Conversations that don’t need an agenda.
Laughing about things that happened a decade ago.
Realizing you still remember the same stories.
Realizing there are new ones waiting to happen.
Thank you.
For reading.
For laughing with me.
For crying with me.
For sharing your stories.
For letting this strange little corner of the internet become something far bigger than I ever imagined.
When I started this blog, I hoped I’d find people who understood.
Instead…
I found a community.
A family.
A Den.
You built this place with me.
Board by board.
Story by story.
Comment by comment.
Week by week.
And lately…
It feels like we’re adding chairs.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop being grateful for that.
This little corner of the woods feels even more like home now.
🌿 Before You Wander Back Into the Woods…
Before you head back out into the world…
Take these with you.
🌿 Drink the water.
🌿 Eat something if your body will let you.
🌿 Rest before your body has to beg for it.
🌿 Let someone help if they’re offering.
🌿 Celebrate the small victories.
🌿 Let old doors reopen when it feels safe to do so.
🌿 Existing is enough.
🌿 You never have to earn your place here.
🐾 Luna’s Official Assessment
Current Pack Status:
🐾 Mumther healing.
🐾 M&M supervising.
🐾 Yard Yeti making sure nobody goes hungry.
🐾 Potato discovering that every object in existence might secretly be a toy.
🐾 Big Sister duties proceeding according to plan.
🐾 Friends appearing from the woods.
🐾 Extra chairs being added.
🐾 Porch light still on.
Five out of five paws.
Yes, I am aware that was more than five items.
I am a dog.
Your mathematics do not concern me.
Pack growing.
Den fuller.
Approved.
🐾🐾
The porch light stays on.
Even when I need to rest.
Especially then.
🏡 The Porch Light Is On
Whenever you need somewhere to sit for a while…
Pull up a chair.
Actually…
We might need another one.
The coffee might still be warm.
The kettle’s probably singing.
Luna will almost certainly inspect your pockets for snacks.
Potato is probably asleep somewhere he absolutely wasn’t supposed to be.
M&M is likely reminding me that healing counts as productivity.
The Yard Yeti is probably making grilled cheese at an hour that should be illegal.
Maybe an old friend is sitting at the table again.
Maybe someone new has just found their way here.
The fire is crackling.
The porch light is glowing.
And whether you’ve had the best week of your life…
Or you’re simply trying to make it through today…
You’re welcome here.
Always.
Funny thing about a Den.
You think you know how many people fit inside.
Then someone comes home.
Someone comes back.
Someone pulls up another chair.
And somehow…
There’s room.
We’ll leave the porch light on. ❤️
-Sky
© The Crippled Cryptid
Disability. Honesty. A little chaos.
(Absolutely dog fur and puppy love.)
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