I got plastered and screwed at the weekend

35 mph bicycle to pavement faceplant. Steep hill, pot-hole, face as brake!

Now, the best part of crashing somewhere posh is the quality of the passers by:

1st on scene: Red Cross first aider. She was amazing and rescued my bike (as well as me).

2nd on scene: Off duty doctor: He lay my snapped arm gently on my side, smiled and said “try not to move that, son.”. He also asked funny Alert+Oriented questions like “which are your favourite crisps?” and “which political party are in power right now?” (or something like that, I wasn’t very oriented!)

3rd on scene: Vicar. He was the first person I saw when I opened my eyes. I said “Good of you to come but I think you were called out unneccesarily! My arms is a bit smashed but I don’t think I will need Last Rites.” Cue giggling from all present and vicar who said a blessing anyway. I will visit his church and say thanks.

The Ambulance crew, the porters, the doctors, the surgeon who bolted me together, thanks, I love you.

The girl who made me buy a helmet the day before, and to whom I possibly owe my life, I love you most of all.