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Black ice is a peril all drivers are familiar with. Probably one of the most dangerous and deceptive of all roadway hazards. Seldom recognized in time to react properly, read “slow down”. It is that misleading smooth surface that is so insidiously deceiving, that has been the bane of my frustration for the last week.

Twas not I that suffered directly from this culprit of the cold country, but my lovely lady Jennifer. While walking out to the car at a friends house, she slipped on a piece of sidewalk covered with this dastardly insidious substance. As her feet flung out from under her, she landed hard on her elbow.


Which resulted in a serious break of the ulna. Of course it also caused a severe swelling due to the bursting of the fluid sac around the joint.

Why, you ask, is this such a bane on my conscious? Simply because I am clear across the country, and unable to be there to support her and hold her hand before and after surgery. It is one of the hardest difficulties that come with my chosen profession. All I am able to do is comfort her on the phone, which feels extremely substandard to me. Between the hours of service regulations, and simple finances, it is impossible for me to get home to Jennifer.

Of course, Jennifer is such a trooper, that she says it’s no problem. I know though, it would be a considerable relief to her to have me home, helping with the simple things in life. Everything from bathing to opening a can of food or a pain killer bottle. I know she can handle it, but I am also aware that I could provide much needed help. Yet I’m stuck out here, working to be able to make it back for my next scheduled home time.

This does weigh heavy on me. Jennifer assures me that it’s okay, but I still have trouble with it.