One must be prepared for all types of weather conditions here on the tundra. The sun can be shining with a come thither look while the air temperature could flash freeze a side of beef. A cloudy gray day can quickly become a thawing day. The snow can pile up in haystacks of white or the ground can be a brown slumbering flatland. Our outer wear has to match the moment with a selection of mittens, gloves, fleece, scarves, parkas, coveralls, boots (real ones, not fashion statements) and flannel.
The trickiest weather involves the thaw-freeze days. The roadways look deceivingly clear but the moisture on the roads quickly freezes when the temperature dips to just the right temperature. This can happen any time of the day or night. I was reminded of this scientific fact in a very real way last week.
My before dawn routine usually begins with an exercise DVD. I will do ANYTHING to distract myself from the chirpy little instructor. I often skip the first minute or two of her yapping so I can retrieve my morning paper. Wintertime newspaper retrieval involves a quick assessment of the pavement conditions. Dry pavement means no shoes necessary. Wet pavement means no shoes. Snow dusted pavement means casual shoes. Snowy slush pavement means tugging on the boots. This particular morning the pavement was only wet so no shoes for me. The temperature was also mild so there was no need to hurry. I was just a few feet out on the driveway when my brain received a very bad message. Black ice was being sensed under my feet. We all know that by the time one's brain is processing such a message it is too late. I responded with a screech as my body did a full backwards butt slam on the pavement. After the initial jolt, I took a quick assessment of the damage. Hips, moving. Legs, moving. Arms, moving. Head, no concussion. Dignity, bruised. Tailbone, ouch. I slowly picked myself up and carefully inched my way back to the door, wary of more ice.
My first instinct was to skip my DVD for the morning. I love a good excuse. But, I continued with my usual routine so I could determine the extent of my damage. I had minimal discomfort so no x-rays were going to be needed. A quick Google search for tailbone injuries indicated no need for a doctor's intervention as nothing can be done. The list of symptoms for a broken tailbone did not match my symptoms so it was clear that I just took a bruising, not a breaking.
I was quite surprised my tailbone wasn't broken due to the full force of my weight bearing down upon it during the fall. Upon further reflection, however, I credit my good fortune to potato chips. I do not have a flat butt. There is padding there, folks. And that doesn't just happen. My penchant for such things as potato chips or cheese curls or bacon gives me more of a baby beluga look rather than a lithe giraffe. My tailbone was protected from the initial impact of my fall.
Thank you, potato chips. Wavy, plain, barbecue or sour cream, it does not matter as long as you're doing your job.
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