The Prodigal Will Returneth

If you didn't know, my roommate Will had an elective surgery last week. While the "elective" modifier removes some drama from the situation, it certainly didn't make the surgery any less painful.

It's taken Will longer to recover than we hoped. Of course, we expected him pain free within 6 hours, back on his feet in a day, and doing long rides with us in 4 days, tops. We may have been a bit optimistic.

Aaron and I have been more than happy to help nurse our friend back to health, if only because this gives us ample opportunity to mock him. He'd do the same for us... the nursing and the mocking.

I'll admit, I've been having trouble with most of Will's post-op care. I don't know how medications interact or how to wean someone off of painkillers (although, kudos to Will, he went cold-turkey 24 hours early). I can't touch a forehead and gauge whether or not someone has a low-grade fever. It's especially tough for me to watch my friend suffer.

He's also supposed to be on his feet as much as possible, and we were instructed to encourage him to walk. Believe it or not, this has been the easiest part. Will and I train together all the time. One more hill, one more sprint, one more loop around campus... we pushed each other every day. One more lap in the apartment isn't all that different.

In fact, it occurred to me that over the past 18 months, I've subconsciously learned to tell the difference between Lazy Will and Fatigued Will - I really don't want to push him too far now, so it's good that I can tell that difference.

The challenge for us as caretakers is that he suffers so quietly, so internally. It's not a tough-guy pride thing, nor is it stubbornness; those would be easy to recognize and deal with. Instead, I think that it's an innate, deep aversion to troubling his friends with his problems.

Don't get me wrong, Will is as prone to complaining as the rest of us. We're bike racers... bitching about the wind, the cold, the heat, the pace, the paceline, the route, the hill, the descent, and so on... it's just what we do. It's what our conversations are reduced to when we spend so much time together.

On the other hand, I can't help but recall all the rides I've done with Will over the past few months, when he was really hurting. His injury made it especially difficult for him to ride at medium intensity for long periods, which was exactly what my training had to be. I'd drag him on these rides, forcing him into efforts that put him in real pain ... but he'd never say anything until we'd get home and I'd remember to ask, "so, how's your back?"

Yeah, I've got some quality friends, and I'm more than a little proud of that.