Here's a scary story about ice. Joe had one of his sojourns to the ER one afternoon, we were in the midst of an ice storm, but he had had a serious TIA (this was prior to his latest surgeries), so off we went. It wasn't too bad driving. He was there for about 7 hours when they finally decided to keep him overnight. He had been stabilized, so I went back home to get some rest, since we only live about 20 minutes from the hospital.
Driving back home was a nightmare. The storm had worsened. It was sheet ice all the way, and the roads in my neighborhood were completely iced over, and the salt trucks were nowhere to be seen. Even when applying my brakes, the car didn't stop going down some minor inclines, but I did manage to get home. I went to bed and about 1:30 AM, I got a call from Joe's doctor, saying that he was not going to be admitted afterall, and that I had to come and get him. I suspect the insurance company made that little decision.
I made it back to the hospital, going about 3 miles an hour and in lower gear all the way. I packed him up in the car and drove him home, but with great care. All I could think of was that if anything ever happened to us and Joe in such very sick condition, he probably wouldn't make it. I could just see the car in a ditch. Our neighborhood was horrible by this time complete glare ice and the car slid and had a mind of its own. We didn't get back to the house until about 3:30AM.
It was a scary, scary night that I'll never forget, and I guarantee you that if it had happened today, I would have been much more proactive about the decision to send him home. I can't believe how wimpy I was then.
You never know what kind of bonehead move you're going to have to deal with.
