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Why am I actually posting this? I have no idea, honestly.
Nearly killed at age six. Crossing the street (it was a small and I mean small street with hardly any traffic ever on it, block from my house, residential neighborhood.) Moron was driving 70 miles an hour in (I think) down the 15-20 mph limit street and creams me. I heard that my sneaks stayed exactly where they were, the rest of me flew in the air, landed a top the hood of a parked car nearby.
Nearly died. Then stayed in a coma for a week. Then they weren't sure if I could ever walk. Then they thought I might walk with a limp. Had a body cast from my toes to nearly my shoulders that I celebrated my 7th birthday in. Fun times.
Anyway, I'm fine, alive, not even a limp. Guess the best part of remembering is how lucky I am to even be here. I ended up celebrating (at least mentally, no cake or nothing, lol) the day I got hit by the car as my special "Happy to Be Alive Day".
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