Seven Year Test

 I read an article the other day about friendship. The article made me dig deep into my personal life.

A lot can change in seven years, especially in the ALS world.

It takes seven years to restore bad credit. Seven years to finally digest that piece of Double Bubble you swallowed and seven years to grow a new set of skin cells. (OK; thanks, Google, for this last one, because I had no idea that was even a thing).

But would you believe me if I told you that every seven years, we go through a  profound change? Not only are you likely in a very different place in your life, but a study shows there is a good chance you have replaced half of your closest friends with new ones.

Whoa, every seven years, you replace half of your BFFs!?!?

No way this information can be correct, right? 

After learning about this mythical seventh-year reaper of friendship, I analyzed my friends. Assuming my math is correct, I have cycled friends five times during my thirty-five years of life. That means at the ages of 7, 14, 21, 28, and 35, I cycled half of my friends. So, I cycled friends in first grade, eighth grade, and the middle of college, trying to become a functional adult, and when you realize you are closer to fifty than eighteen. 

To my astonishment, the article was a guillotine of death to numerous friendships over the years. Every seventh year marks a milestone in life as the following: starting school, starting high school, being a young adult who can consume alcohol, getting married, and having children. The notion makes sense as you go through personal growth things will be shed from your life in the process. However, that does not make the heartache hurt less.

Of course, there are two sides to every coin. If you lose half of your friends every seven years, you keep the other half. Those friends are the real MVPs. The ride or die, friends for life. The friends you tell everything. The friends you might not see forever, but you pick up with like you did not skip a beat. Those types of friendships are what this story is about; I love a success story.

So, let me tell you the story of my friendship with Daniel Woody.

I can not remember a time in my life when I did not know Daniel. By the way, saying Daniel is weird. He will always be Wood or Woody to me. I  can not tell you about my friend Wood without mentioning how close the Polings and Woodys have been for four generations. This kinship usually involved a Poling injury or story and the Woodys coming to the rescue. Haha.

I grew up less than a half mile from the Woodys. Coincidentally, the Woodys owned a timber company called Woody Lumber Company. Talk about a dream childhood for Daniel, my first cousin Robert Poling, and me. We grew up playing in the sawmill, lumber yard, large field, creek, and a pond, a childhood boy fantasy playground. We played hide and seek, flashlight tag, fished, hunted, swam, sleigh rode, and my least favorite, bike riding.

We played, broke everything, injured ourselves, and fought each other, but most importantly, we had a blast. At any given time 8-10 kids were running around the lumber yard. The story of Seth and Daniel continues throughout middle school. During this period is where our bond truly flourished. The young boys got their taste for the outdoors. The young boys became young men and went Whitetail deer hunting. I will never forget learning that Wood shot a buck while I was at home.

During high school, I played football, basketball, and baseball. Wood played soccer. We remained friends throughout high school, but being on different teams in different sports limits the amount of time to spend together. Luckily for Wood and me, we went to college together at Fairmont State University. Eventually, we became next-door neighbors. That was excellent for our friendship but detrimental to our academics. Haha, sorry, mom and Pam.

Wood moved back to Buckhannon after his girlfriend, Brittany, graduated college. Brittany and my roommate, Boone, were not affected by the neighbors. Haha. Overachievers, if you ask me. After I graduated college, I moved back home. Our friendship reignited, especially when I started to bow hunt. I had the best teachers on this side of the Mississippi River, Daniel and his brother Matthew. We were the West Virginia Bone Collectors. We had the best time hunting together with lots of success.

I moved to Morgantown, WV March of 2011. Our friendship remained strong and possibly strengthened even more when my parents built our cabin a few miles away from Woodys cabins. We hung out, rode UTVs, hunted, and enjoyed each others company. Wood and Brittany got married, as did Erika and I. Little did I know that our friendship would be pushed to the limits shortly.

In 2014 my first symptoms of ALS appeared. I received my official diagnosis in 2017. Unfortunately, the first significant loss of abilities I suffered was my ability to draw my bow back. First to go was my compound bow, then my crossbow. Thankfully, Wood came to my rescue as he would cock my crossbow for me; so I didn’t have to try to draw my crossbow back to hunt.

 
As my disease progressed, my abilities declined, and I lost one of my favorite hobbies. Not only was this devastating to me personally, but it was also equally as devastating to my best friend. The loss of my abilities took away more than hunting. ALS took my ability to shoot guns, drive, and eventually speak. As I desperately tried to cope with this new life, Wood was mourning the loss of his best friend, whom he had known for 30 years.

Naturally, we drifted apart. We both had children and jobs, and we lived an hour apart. My limited mobility, ambulatory, and long-distance driving played a significant role in our distant friendship. Additionally, I lost my ability to speak and text on my phone. I can honestly say that this cut deep. I felt abandoned. I became bitter, not only because of Wood but because I entered another seven-year friendship cycle.

I sincerely lost most of my friends during this time. Unfortunately, this happens to every (PLWALS). (Person living with ALS) ALS is a devastating disease that can be isolating. Friends and family often find it too difficult to see someone they love deteriorate at an alarming pace. I didn’t understand why this was happening to me. Fortunately for me, this story doesn’t end here. 

One day, I poured my heart out to my best friend. We hashed everything out, but I could tell things weren’t 100% back to normal. It is easy to text someone who is actively dying, but it is a different animal to see someone dying in person. We, as a society, are taught not to stare at people with disabilities. I completely understand how uncomfortable it is to be near someone like me when I need a cough assist or suction. Or even worse, I get choked.

I can tell when people are uncomfortable around me. They struggle to make eye contact, keep their distance from me, or turn their back when I need something. I would guess 95% of people fall into this category. I haven’t had much experience with people making a 180° turnabout from this category. That is where my best friend turned our friendship back eight years and forward simultaneously.

Wood went from being awkwardly shy to a Rockstar in a few weeks. He went from hiding his eyes; to one of the first people to come to my aid in a time of need. He drives my chair, holds an umbrella to block the sun so I can communicate, and many other things. The most important thing is that I can see that he always cared, but he had to come to terms with our new friendship.

He overcame his uncomfortableness and realized that his best friend was still inside that poor decrepit body with a ventilator and a computerized voice. I am so proud of my best friend. I know how hard life with ALS is on friends and family. The effort put into a normal friendship is 50/50. Unfortunately, the effort required to be friends with someone living with ALS is more like 80/20 in favor of a healthy friend.
So, you might cycle friends every seven years, but ride-or-die friends, NOTHING, can break that bond. Not even ALS. Thank you, Daniel Woody. Thank you for sticking by my side through thick and thin. We have been through hell and back. Thank you for putting in the effort and trying to learn new skills to help your best friend. I love you, and I cherish our friendship. 

Here is to many more years and more meaningful memories.