At around 14:38 on the 31st of October (Halloween) I was just finishing up my round working for the Royal Mail. Something I have been doing since being made redundant during the pandemic. On an unfamiliar round and working by myself I was performing my final duty before returning to the delivery office. As I collected mail from a post box and placed it into the side of my van I could hear a car speeding around the road towards my location. I was working around a large park with a not so wide road going around it. The opposite side of the road to the park is crammed with private housing and flats, and the park is a popular sport for dog walkers, couples, children and people catching up. I was at the quieter side of the park. I walked towards the back of my van on the pavement to cast a disdainful glance at the driver. All I saw was a flash as I presumed the car sped by.

In my mind, I continued delivering parcels. In reality, I was laid unconscious for over 15 minutes. As I came around my mind wasn’t fully functioning. What I remember I compare to a loading area on a computer game. There are no details of anything that isn’t in my direct view. First I recall trying to get up and a woman, I couldn’t describe, telling me to lay down. I found that my right eye wasn’t working correctly which caused me some panic. Also, my lower back was in a lot of pain which was pushing my desire to stand up. Somehow in the confusion, I managed to call my wife and pass my fear and confusion on to her. I didn’t know what had happened or where I was but I must have heard the woman say I’d been hit by a car. I saw in front of me my van with damage on it. I wondered if I had pulled out on a car and stumbled out of the van after the incident. That narrative possibly fit with my unconscious mind. I told my wife that I had been in a car accident and I didn’t know where I was, but now the police had arrived. I honestly couldn’t say I recall seeing any police.

Time feels to pass quite fast at this point. Paramedics arrive and get me tied down and in the back of an ambulance. My anxiety probably began to climb as we went through this process, firstly their reactions have me question what is actually wrong and then my failure to answer basic questions such as my name makes me panic. The only thing I can relate that feeling to is when you are at the end of a university course writing an essay and your mind is refusing to acknowledge you attended a single lecture, the more you try and pull a word out the more the panic sets in. Of course with obviously much worse implications. Oddly though my biggest objection was the neck brace, I remember trying to convince the paramedic, and we discussed this later, that I really don’t like the brace and would much rather take the risks. Of course, I remained in a neck brace for the next 4 hours.

The paramedics, doctors and nurses were amazing during the rush into A & E and throughout the emergency procedures and tests. I don’t remember over-panicking, my thoughts were mostly along the lines of ‘stay still and let them crack on’. Blood from my nose filled my eyes so even if I were capable I couldn’t make out any faces. During this time I recall discussing rugby head assessments and the fact my kids play, whether or not to cut off my trousers and failing more questions, even though I had the right numbers for my date of birth in my head they just didn’t feel right. It was around this time I learnt that I hadn’t been in a car crash, I was the car crash. A witness had seen me fly 8ft in the air and land on my face.

A CT scan later and I was in a trauma ward getting stitches to my face while waiting on the results. Still pinned down looking at the ceiling I started receiving visitors, besides family who had arrived not long after myself. First (I think) was a policeman, he had been on the scene and brought me more information about what had happened. Still unsure of the exact run of events it was clear a car had come onto the pavement and hit me, and I was possibly saved by the postbox from worse injuries. The driver had stayed at the scene, he couldn’t speak English but it became apparent he had no insurance. At this time I didn’t really care or hold any anger my mind was focused as well as it could be on myself. It was around this time I got the CT results back, they read as followed; broken nose, fractured right orbital, lacerations to the face, contusions to the right lung and one that carried the most weight, a small bleed to the brain. If I recall correctly it was revealed to me as bad news (bleed) and good news (small). My worst pain wasn’t revealed by the scan but was discussed later with old-fashioned prodding, which was bruising to my lower spine. My second visitor was a Royal Mail manager, he showed concern but my previous experience with manor injuries made me rather cynical and I wasn’t in the mood for entertaining. He asked a few questions for his paperwork and left.

After the news regarding the bleed to the brain and them mentioning the back of my head I, of course, developed a pain in the back of my head. The doctors didn’t seem too bothered and the pain did vanish once I was freed from my brace and allowed to sit up. As it turned out the bleed was more on the side of my head and the pain was likely from being strapped down for so long. Finally sitting up felt amazing although those around me thought I looked as if I was about to pass out. My legs were suffering at this point, although somehow unscathed from the incident they were not happy about being laid still for 4 hours after walking over 12 miles. Around this time the paramedics returned to check on me, it was interesting to hear them describe the scene they arrived to and how relieved they were that I was doing so well. It brought home how serious people thought the crash was and how amazing they had been.

I spent the next 24 hours being cared for on a ward in the hospital, which I found very interesting and strangely enjoyed in some ways. Not fully feeling out of the woods but looking around and seeing people in far worse conditions than me I was more than happy to be discharged and free up a bed. With my wife being a nurse this tipped the scales and home I went to start the slow recovery period.