CW: Pet Loss (old age, death)….
My first comic was about looking at pictures of my dog who’d recently died. The day before that, I’d had my first real meltdown about her death – and discovered that the smartwatch that I’d been trying to pace my activities (through a study) was utter garbage – I’d been depending on Penny, my very smart doggo, to pace me, because she knew when I needed to nap.
Today is world #ME Day. Appropriately, my comic today is about PACING – which as far as I know is the only clinically verified treatment for Myalgic Encephalomyelitis – ME – which is the official name for what people used to call Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. My Long Covid has an ME presentation – or it caused ME, or … whatever.
Pacing is the only truly approved treatment for Long Covid. I was part of a study using tracker watches for a year and it was trash. My dog (a border collie mix) was my pacing partner.



COMIC TRANSCRIPT:
The day before, I’d had a complete meltdown- the kind of sobbing panic attack I haven’t had since the early days of Long Covid, before I started taking Effexor. I was missing Penny (the dog) so much – and having the panic attack made me miss her even more.
At some point I looked at my stupid Garmin watch and it said my stress level was 9/100. NINE. of 100. “At rest”, it said, “good job.” I’d been ugly crying and hypeventilating for 2 hours. This piece of trash regularly had me at 40 or 50/100 (“medium stress”) while napping happily on the couch
I’d only put it on again that week because Penny was gone, and without her prompting, I wasn’t pacing my activities very well. She had an eerily intuitive sense of when I needed to lie down, when I’d been working at my desk too long, and when I needed to go outside. She’d herd me to whatever activity she felt was appropriate at the time.
Penny was a border collie – lab mix we adopted in 2011. She was a rescue puppy with So. Much. ENERGY.
She kept me from utter despair during a period of depression (due to undiagnosed thyroid dysfunction).
Partly by sleeping on my feet,
And partly by needing LOTS of park time.
She sat on my belly and warned off other dogs when I was pregnant.
She forced me to stay present through some WICKED postpartum depression and anxiety and delayed bonding with my kid…. Much the same way.
And she always reminded me to take breaks from work.
But when I got sick in March 2020, she was recovering from surgery on her blown-out knee.
Kiddo had finally gotten better from a long, intense cough. Covid-19 was sweeping through Italy, but it “wasn’t here yet”, according to our doctors’ offices.
But then I started feeling off.
The next day I was out of breath chasing the kiddo up the sidewalk.
The day after that, reading his bedtime story.
And the next morning I couldn’t get enough breath to speak after walking upstairs.
Penny was on sedating drugs, in her crate, when my partner drove me to the ER, and when I got home.
She was in the crate on sedating drugs in the weeks afer, when I started to shake with panic once
Twice
Three times a day.
TO BE CONTINUED…