Panic attack

Yesterday afternoon, I had a panic attack when I fell off my bike in the rain and came home soaked in blood. 

Now, you might think that by now, I would've learned how not to fall off my bike, but in my rush to get to the bus station, I miscalculated the road condition and my ability to control a sharp turn. My reflexes have improved in the last few months, but still I am accident-prone and it was just my bad luck that I was wearing shorts at the time. 

What spurred the panic attack was not the sight of my own blood, nor the fact that I could see to the inside tissue of my leg, which I'm pretty sure is not normal. Nor was it brought on by the layers that had peeled off one knee and the bits of rock and dirt lodged in there and on my elbows and my t-shirt. 

Here I'd fallen in broad daylight and no one had come to my help, even the pedestrian who walked right past me and saw the blood oozing down my leg. I'm a foreigner, but "are you ok?" translates in any language and no one had shown me any concern. I went home in shock and anger and disbelief. 

I'm a lucky girl, I know that. I have friends all over who are willing to help, and faith in the goodness of people. It was just difficult to remember all that and more at the moment and I desperately wanted my mother there, to console me and take care of my wounds, to tell me how silly I'd been and tell me I would be okay. But to be honest, any other person doing the same thing would've been nearly just as welcome. 

I cried and cried because I sometimes can't believe what a cold world it is. 

Like all else, I know that there should be a balanced outlook even in situations like this. E called me in the middle of this moment, which I like to think is Providence looking out for me; the bus driver who drove me to the hospital was kind; I fell a little bit in love with the doctor who not only took care of my wounds, but also spoke English and took time to be personable and distract me from the pain. 

At the end of the day, I know that I'll be okay, except that I'll have to be careful with these scars, since they're so close to the knee joint. And that I just happened to live through a painful moment, and an experience that could easily make me more cynical. But through all this, I think that what I am learning is to have more compassion on strangers, not less, because I am realizing the needs of others as I become more aware of my own.

*Pictures to follow