Bike Accident--Part 1

In the summer of 2010, I think it was June, I had a bike accident. I don't know how it happened, but I just lost control of my bike and crashed down onto the concrete. I may have seen a car in the distance and reacted by over-breaking, but I'm really not sure. I knew that I was losing control of the bike, and then I felt my upper body his some part of the bike. I knew I was going to crash, and then my chest landed on the handlebars, and then I thought, "I am about to hit them again" and then I did, and then I was on the ground. I was trying to pick myself up and found it very hard, not because of pain, but just because it was hard to move, and I heard a woman ask me if I was ok. I looked up but couldn't look up further than the grass and sidewalk I was laying on, and tried to tell her to call 911. The words wouldn't come out. I was trying to say "call" but I couldn't get it out. I tried again with all of my strength to say the sentence and I did, but it was only as loud as a whisper. I thought that this might be the way that I was going to die--from a bike accident. It seemed senseless. As soon as she said she was calling for help, I felt better--I felt like there was a chance that I would be saved. I was able to take off my helmet so that I could lay my hands on top of it and then my forehead on top of my hands. I realized now that I did that to get the pressure off of my chest. Other people came up to me, and talked to me, telling me that I would be ok. And they talked to each other. One woman told another of an accident she was in, I forget what type...perhaps skiing...and the fact that she was standing there talking about it meant that she had survived. All of this gave me hope, and comforted me. I heard the sirens and when the ambulance arrived, I felt even more relieved.