They say the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, but on the night of December 25th, that line was made of black ice and freezing rain.
The Storm on the Horizon
I left my house alone at 9:00 PM, heading toward the family cottage. What was supposed to be a quiet late-night run quickly turned into a gauntlet. The weather shifted to a nasty freezing rain and snow. As the roads turned into glass, I slowed my pace to a crawl.
I wasn’t the only one out there, but I seemed to be one of the few respecting the conditions. Every few miles, I’d pass another car flipped into the ditch, people standing in the cold, silhouettes against the emergency lights. I kept my head down and kept moving at a snail’s pace.
3:00 AM
I had been behind the wheel for six hours. The roads there were poorly maintained, and just as I was almost to the cottage, the truck finally lost the battle for traction. I was stuck on the hill.
My plan was simple: get out, walk the rest of the way, and grab the tractor to pull the truck up. I checked the clock—3:00 AM.
But as soon as I stepped out, the ice claimed its victory. I slipped, my head slamming into the running board on the way down, and then hitting the ground again. Everything went black.
The Wake-Up Call
When I came to, I was covered in a fresh layer of snow.
Sore as heck and disoriented, I managed to climb back into the cab and I checked the truck clock again: 3:34 AM. I’d been out for over half an hour in the freezing dark. I called my dad for backup, but in that strange adrenaline window that sometimes follows an injury, I managed to get the truck moving again. I made it up the hill, drove the final five minutes to the cottage, and collapsed into bed.
The Long Road to Recovery
It took a few days for the fog to settle in heavily enough for me to realize this wasn’t just a “bump on the head.” While the initial CT scan came back normal, a visit to a concussion specialist revealed the truth: an extremely severe concussion—more than likely a “double” because of the two distinct impacts.
When I asked how long it would take to feel like myself again, the answer wasn’t what I wanted to hear: “Months.”
Final Thoughts
We often think of “getting stuck” as a mechanical problem—something a tractor or a phone call to your dad can fix. But a brain injury is a different kind of “stuck.” It’s a reminder that even when you do everything right—driving slow, staying cautious—life can still throw you a curveball.
If you’re reading this, take the ice seriously. And if you hit your head, don’t wait “several days” like I did. Your health is the only thing that can’t be towed out of a ditch.