Re-thinking A Position.

I was in a mood.
The one I sometimes get into when I'm on the other side of something bad, and I've come through it with most of me intact.
I've gotten two "Get Out Of Massive Head Injuries Free" cards - once in 2001 when I smashed one side of my face into the asphalt,(which, incidentally happened to be my own-ass fault) and didn't get more than, well, a half-smashed face - and this last wreck, caused by a cage driver who thought there was time to pull out in front of me.
There wasn't.
There was time to choose - barely. Choose between hitting the car, and hitting the pavement.
I hit the brakes, then I hit the pavement. As I was going down, I flashed on the last time it went this way. March 2001...
The way everything exploded white, then went gray for a few years/seconds when I hit the deck in a one-point landing, head-to-tar...
The way, as my head cleared a little, I could feel the blood running off my face...
The thought in my head: "Ohh, my family doesn't need this -" (Incidentally, for those of you who maybe thought I didn't have it in me - then I thought, "Ohh, my f'in' bike!")
However, while the part about the bike didn't flash through my head, the rest did.
As far as I knew, it was time for a repeat performance, likely much worse. I was wincing while I was still in the air.
Have you ever been involved in a wreck of any kind where your body has been thrown, and bumped hard, and you're actually still conscious - maybe in pain, but conscious? If it was just you, or you knew everybody else was okay, did you take a little mental inventory of how everything was feeling? Were you ever surprised?
I was.
I knew my arm was broken. How bad, nope. I knew the right side of my chest felt like maybe Lars or Neil or Ginger had just done a drum solo on it. I knew my feet weren't real happy either - bruises to go around! But...
My head. I hadn't hit it. Not even a grazing blow. My headrag wasn't even dirty.
I can't explain it. I was bouncing on that damned pavement like a piece of lumber that fell off of the back of a truck, lengthwise. I remember three very hard impacts - the first, when my arm broke, and two more. WHAM!, WHAM, whamthumpitythumpthump, and fetchin' up next to the offending car. Ow...
The EMTs didn't believe it. The X-ray/CT techs didn't believe it. I was in a wreck with NO HELMET, I must have hit my head, We're Gonna Look In The Coconut Tonight, Boy. And don't figure on goin' straight home with that bruised lung, either!
I found myself in a wheelchair in the Admitting area of the nearby hospital, trying not to smile. Trying not to smile, because there was so much misery around me. Sick folks, hurt folks, sad folks. Another Friday night in a metropolitan Phoenix hospital.
Realizing what an incredibly lucky cat I truly was. (Only 3 or 4 lives left, though.)
Seeing the faces of my brothers & sisters, and of my wife and Mom-in-law, as they came through the doors and saw me sitting there, grinning like a fool just because I was getting to see them all. Basking in the love like a lizard on a sunny rock.
There were other emotions at work, too. The fear that I could see had been in Li'lBit's heart. The relief in everyone's eyes.
I got swept up in my joy at being alive, rightly so.
But when I wrote the previous post, I had gotten cocky. I beat the odds, right?
A couple of weeks later a fella I've known, and ridden with, didn't.
It set me to thinkin'.
I've skated twice. Will there be a third time, if I can't avoid somebody again?
I've looked in the faces of the many people I know and love, some of whom even love me(!), and also in the little faces of some people who are just getting to know me.
I've spent quite a bit of time figuring out when to be stubborn, and when to compromise. I just never gave much thought to it. It's always been my choice. I've made another, now...
I'm going to buy, and wear(at least in our beloved city), a full-face helmet.
After all, it isn't a horse I'm ridin', so I won't look silly.