I know a lot of people out there will have been through a lot worse situations than this, but this is something that creeps back in to my mind from time to time, and man it's vivid.
Just over a year ago I fell off my bike in the middle of the road. I was thrown forwards and landed on my knuckles and face. Luckily I had a helmet on, a big beard, and a watch. I broke my arm and smashed up my hands and I'll never forget that feeling - scraping along the road on my chin, looking up and seeing smashed glass by by face (it was the glass from my watch). I laid there like a dead lump of wood. It felt like no time had passed but Rach told me it was about 30 seconds before she got to me and helped me out of the road with my bike. I sat down and went through various stages of passing out.
That time will stay with me but it won't scar me. It's the time that followed that changed me. The recovery time.
In other news... I currently have desk space in a lovely art studio in Bristol, and it's most excellent being here!