on the road.
When I woke up, the feelings I had was invigorating. It was reassuring. It was comforting. You don't care how you look, you're just glad to be alive. Perhaps, I should just speak for myself.
First thing I did after regaining consciousness was to check & see if I still had my hands & fingers & then my feet & legs. Making sure I still had control of all my limbs. I didn't even bother with my face. I must admit, I am a vain-pot & I do rate my own looks rather highly, shameless of me to say (all for the greater purpose of blogging).
Instead, I am surprised, in hindsight, that I couldn't care less for how I looked regardless the amount of blood oozing from my head. The whole backseat of the Myvi I was in was soaked red & (so was my friend's shirt who pulled me out of the wreck). Next thing I did after I thought I was okay, was to check on the others, the driver and the front passenger, both were fine (not a scratch even).
Not aware that I was the sole contributor to the bloody mess, I was consoling my friend (the driver who was obviously in shock) & walking about being my usual bossy-self making sure everyone was okay. Doing my best to keep everyone from worrying, not aware that I was the source of their worries ((grins)).
I have a wound on my forehead measuring about 5 inches starting from the top of my right eyebrow right above the bridge of my nose going diagonally upwards & into my hairline, two inches. There was no pain. I felt a sensation, but it wasn't pain. Perhaps I had no time to be in pain.
Well, I have got lotsa time now, lying in bed.. & I feel it now ((cringe)) & blogging doesn't help.. I still have too much time/too much pain. The freeloaders don't help.. they're an extra pain in the ass..
