One's best Margaret Mitchell impression

So, I was looking forward to having brunch with my friend M, who is actually one of the three, maybe four people who read these bulletins.

But as he was crossing the street to get to the breakfast place this morning, a car hit him.

The scans and xrays and tests and various pokings and proddings have produced this summation:  a dislocated finger now "reduced" into place (with a lingering troublesome bone fragment to be examined later), a nasty bump on the head that bled a lot but looks all right now that it's been cleaned up, and a left knee aching with enough pain that walking is out and crutches were being fitted as I left.

I have now stress-eaten a cookie I immediately regretted (pretty much, "chomp" *swallow*, "Oh-I-shouldn't-have-done-that...") and am battling the guilt (cookie guilt and accident guilt).

I am perfectly aware I didn't hit him with a car.

But if he hadn't been there about to meet me...

Also, timing-wise, I probably got there right as it was happening, and somehow didn't see it at all.  At. All.  Either I'm exceptionally unobservant or I just missed it.  Either way it feels wrong.

Lastly, no matter if none of it were my fault, I strongly dislike having a friend in pain and being powerless to help.  Though I have a feeling that as everyone I know ages, that's a feeling I'm going to get far more familiar with as time goes on.

Feel better, M.  I guess it could have been a lot worse, but that's small comfort when your knee hurts like hell.  Hopefully your settlement will be large and plentiful.

Everyone else, watch out for the unexpected.  Though I suppose that's impossible.