My body has been struck by a boat, a car and a truck. All I need for the royal flush is to be struck by a train and a plane.
We use the figurative expression "I was struck by...", but when something big, heavy and fast hits your body it feels nothing like an insight. Getting struck by a heavy, fast-moving vehicle feels like watching terrorists fly planes into a building or learning of a loved one's death.
Except the world doesn't stop. In fact, people hate it that you are lying in the middle of the road holding up traffic. Places to go and this damned cyclist is lying on his back waiting for the body board. People feel sorry for you, sure, but the accident is something that happened to you, and no one else.
And this makes it a self-centered event. When it happens to me, I move somewhere toward Mel Gibson on the narcissist - saint scale and starting thinking Gibson type thoughts:
It's easy to feel you've been singled out by God, or chance, or whatever for special misfortune, but you know this is idiotic, since you're still better off than 99% of human beings who've ever lived.
It helps to remember who you are. For example, that you once did this to yourself voluntarily:
And it helps to remember what you did to yourself before you raced a bike:
And thinking about this leads you to maybe realize that, for participating in that kind of nonsense you deserved to get struck by several fast-moving and heavy objects, and to stop whining and Mel Gibson-ing, and get back on the bike and forget about getting struck at all.