What a contrast from that to my first major childhood accident.
I was riding my bike along with a friend. My father ran a trucking company with a drive way all the way around the main barn (truck garage). The back part was gravel. My friend and I decided it would be fun to race. Something that my parents had specifically banned from me ever doing. Anyway, I was leading and went around a corner in the back and hit a good sized stone that grabbed the front wheel of my bike, flipping the front wheel into the ----I direction from where I was heading. The bike stopped instantly and I went over the top of the handle bars and landed on my forehead. I remember bouncing on my head three times and the next thing I remember is waking up with the bike in front of me and my head on the seat.
I remember coming to and being the most relaxed that I could ever remember being before (or since) and then I moved my arm. As soon as I did, the pain hit me. My legs were all skinned and bleeding, my elbows and hands were the same. I had this huge bruise on my stomach and my head hurt something awful. Dilemma, I couldn't tell my parents about it because I was forbidden to race my bike. At least now, I reasoned, I was still alive, but, if they found out, they would kill me.
It was the middle of summer and all of a sudden I was wearing long sleeve shirts and long pants and (thankfully I had hair back then so) I just combed my hair over the mess. After two days of stealth behavior, I noticed that the bruise had become a hard lump and I finally panicked and confessed. They took me to the ER and determined that the lump was a blood clot. I don't remember what they did about it, but, I'm still alive 60 years later so whatever it was, it was successful.
Moral of the story... be glad that he screamed. I said nothing, but, it could have been fatal. I was 10 at the time. Looking back, however, it would explain some of my current behavior.
Yep, that definitively came close to putting you down beyond the count.
When we lived in No Cal back in the day, we used to ride our BMX-ish bikes all through the foothills a few miles away, as well as everywhere else. The only semi-major thing I ever remember happening in the foothills was to my next youngest bro when he tried to jump a small culvert, came up a bit short, and flew over the handle bars into the ground. He was scrapped up a bit, but, none the worse for the wear....!!!

We also made wooden ramps and jumped trash cans for a time...

One our buds wiped out pretty bad one time, but, no broken bones. I blame it on Evel Knievel...!!!!!!!

My first "serious" injury was when I was playing little league baseball and swung at an inside pitch, somehow catching it on the knuckle on my ring finger closest to my hand, both fracturing and dislocating it. I knew it was dislocated right away because of the diformitty, but, didn't know it was fractured 'til the ER visit. Not really much pain, and no freaking out. Wrist-length cast for 3 weeks, and done.
The worst one, so far, was one I've posted about before.
We were at the pool of the HoJo we were staying at when we first moved back here before my folks bought our house.
Somehow caught the calcaneus bone of my left foot on the end of the diving board, and split it open like a birds beak. I knew something had gone wrong by the time I hit the water, but, again, no pain to speak of...my foot just felt funny and didn't move right. I swam to the side of the pool, pushed myself up, sat on the coping, and HOLY STUFF!!!!!!!
My left foot was swollen like a balloon!!!!!!!
I still wasn't really in any pain, but called out (pretty calmly actually) "Dad! I think I broke my foot!". He was watching my lil' sis and his initial reply was "Whataya' mean ya' broke your foot?!" just as he turned around to see
my foot and...!!!!!

The pain came later when I whined like a baby because I didn't want an operation to put a pin in, because, well...I didn't want an operation...

Stooooopid move. The pain I then experienced as the orthopedist and a male nurse kept having to keep smashing my calcaneus bone back together and squeezing surrounding tissue that had been sucked into the void by the vacuum it created out was insanity on top of insanity. Anything like that EVER happens to me again, put me down and fix it.
There was one I've also posted about before that I was a witness to...
It was actually the same guy that got hurt jumping the trash cans several years earlier
We had been back in Texas for a coupla' years, but, made a summer trip back to No Cal to visit our old neighbors, and do some other stuff. At the time, a lot of us were into skateboarding. One day, we went to visit my mothers cousin and her family in a town called Watsonville across the Santa Cruz Mountains on the coast. Beautiful town. Unfortunately, it was pretty much totalled in the '89 Loma Prieta Quake. I Think it's pretty much recovered since.
Anyway, tons of hilly roads for skateboarding.
We cruised around town for a bit while the folks were visiting, and came across a choice hill...at least to the trash can victim...

You can pretty much guess the rest, but, .......... I'm gonna' post it anyway...!!!!!!!!!!!!

There were 4 of us...Trash Can Crash and his next younger bro, and myself and my next younger bro. We all started down the sucker together side-by-side...!!!!!

But, let's just say 3 of us were smart enough to bail close enough to the top that we didn't even hafta' roll........... TCM banzaid it on his superior board, trucks, and wheels, but about 50 before the bottom started to get the "speed wobbles", and bit the big bite BIG TIME!!!!!

by the time we got down to him, he was a bloody mess...at least he knew how to tuck and roll so there were no major injuries but, he was a walking (with major assistance) road rash...
My family were staying at his families house for that part of the trip. His own bad self got blamed, as he should have, we knew when to bail...!!!!!

there was more fun the rest of the trip, but, that's for another time, as I've already blown the doors off of my own post length rules...!!!!!!!
