Minding my business on the way home from work. One mile odd from home, light is red, and I have to turn left. It turns green, but not for the controlled left. I wait. I'm the only one waiting to turn left, in the right of two left turn lanes. It turns green, and before I even have an opportunity to turn the throttle I get rear ended. I wear ear plugs, but didn't hear anything (brakes/ tires screeching) until I felt the impact. The first sensation was of my bike shooting out from under me. The impact. Being on the ground. The car seemingly not stopping for aeions. Me wondering if I'd then get run over by its wheels. "Why are they still driving godammit, didnt they feel the impact. Oh god they better stop. They better have insurance . Why are they still driving!! STOP!!!!" Then. Lying on my side. Forever. On my left. Facing the traffic. Nobody moving, nobody getting out of their car, no hazard lights, no nothing. Just a vacuum of silence. Then the pain. It came like a freight train out of nowhere. Its everywhere. Ears ringing. My heads pounding. Tears streaming down my face. Struggling to breathe. Everything hurts. A voice, female "Oh my God are you ok?" Feet appear in the hazy fog. I'm still trying to breathe. "Please say something. Are you ok? I'm so sorry. Are you ok." All I can do is groan and moan. Finally my lungs are working. Everything still hurts. That same voice "can you move? Oh my God, are you OK?"" Through the fog of pain and tears I can hear other people saying things, although I can't make out what's being said except "Don't move him." Thank you I say internally. I'm still struggling to breathe. My sinuses are completely blocking my nose. I'm trying to mentally do a self examination: can you feel your toes, wriggle your toes, can you feel your hands, wriggle your fingers, I'm trying to catch my breath, is there any pain that's clearly head and shoulders above the rest, announcing its paramount to all others. Non board certified assessment done I try to relax. I'm still struggling to breathe. Lying down isn't helping. I want to get up. I want to open up my lungs and clear my airways. I'll feel better being able to breathe easier. I put my arm up and ask if i can be helped to sit up. "No, you have to stay still" im told. We discuss the recovery position in rugby: its like the foetal position, it prevents choking, vomit going down the airway etc and im almost in that position already. "Don't move" makes sense. I give up on wanting to sit up. Try to normalise your breathing i say. I can hear my heartbeat. It's damn loud in among the noise of concerned bystanders giving directions and instruction to 911. I can hear / feel a ringing in my ears still, although it's waning. There's a gentleman crouched in front of me asking me questions. I try to tell him I'm wearing earplugs and can't "hear him" without reading his lips. He backs up so I can see his face. Asks if im ok. I don't know, I think so. But my nose is stuffed so I don't know what that sounded like. He says something illegible. I saw "wha..." as clearly as I can and he repeats it. I still can't quite make out what he's saying although the din from my heartbeat is dissipating. "Huh?" It's easier to say that as there is no T sound that'll temporarily block the airway. I'm still struggling to breathe. I remove the glove from my right hand, I need to call my mum. "Can I pray for you?" is what he's saying. Go ahead I say. I'm trying to find my mums phone number through the fog of tears . I'm not quite able to dial it, as he's uttering words to the deities of his choice. Lying prone with a mist descending from the heavens, and seemingly looking directly into the headlights of cars and street lights it's hard to see. Then there's tears flowing ceaselessly too. I do the "call mum" thing but I guess with my nose blocked Google doesn't understand me. Someone, mercifully, props up my head a little bit with something and breathing is a little easier. I see my call log and punch my sisters number. He's still praying I say "my sister" and give him the phone. He immediately starts talking to whoever picked up. The pain has receded a little. EMS folks are now here. Asking me my name, age, the date etc. I'm still struggling to breathe. Can I feel this, can I wriggle that? No, nothing hurts the most, but it's better than ages ago. Actually my back hurts more than anything else. In the background, amidst all the shadowy figures, I see my brother in law. "My brother" I point. Thank God I was one minute from home. They continue to assess. They tie me up like a hog, put me on a board, remove my jacket (ATGMTT) and helmet, wheel me into the bus and take me to the hospital. Cut my clothes off, including a bloody nice windbreaker I bought at Rugby School when I went to England for world Cup Rugby. They had asked "can I cut off your jacket?" Go ahead, I responded, I have three of them. I thought they meant my motorcycle jacket, but I realise now it'd been taken off me in the process of putting me on the stretcher. I vaguely remember the discomfort of trying to take my arm out of the sleeve. My shirt was a 50th anniversary Polo for my rugby club. It's a mess of rags now. The hospital is another story. What could I have done to prevent it? Run the red light into the no man's land of the intersection and hope there was no one on my right going straight. I just got home an hour ago and I'm just writing this because I can't sleep (sinusitis) and I need to remember it. No rain but it was precipitating, not enough to call it drizzle though. More like a mist. Open sight lines. 7:40ish pm. Don't know what's happened to my bike. It's been towed somewhere. I hope she has good insurance.