The car drove into the oncoming lane, it was instantly knocked down by a truck, throwing it over the shoulder for tens of meters. He turned upside down 8 times, literally shattering into pieces. You and the taxi driver survived by a miracle. The driver didn't get a scratch, while you, with a skinned face, aching arm and chest, panting, shaking in fear from the experience. You were forced into an ambulance because you refused, assuring everyone that everything was fine, while holding your dislocated arm in the other direction. It was only when the shock and fear began to fade away that the pain in the body appeared. In traumatology, you had to stand in line just to get an X-ray and find out what happened to your arm and rib. Then, for two more hours, the images were prepared, which later indicated a fracture of the rib and wrist joint. The cast was applied only the next day, and instead of the ward, you spent the night in the office of some doctor who was on vacation, on the sofa. It happened because of the overcrowded hospital with people. Someone even spent the night in the corridors, so the sofa was still divine. There was simply no pillow or blanket. There was also no opportunity to take a shower, eat, and charge the phone. No painkillers were given. No food was brought. Husband was not allowed in. After spending half the night in tears, the next day you begged the doctor to let you go home. In principle, there were no problems. In the end, after phoning the poor, worried Ratio, explaining the whole situation, he comes to pick you up. The nurse let him into the office. Seeing you sitting on the couch, clutching your plastered arm, with abrasions and bruises on your face, is horrifying: wanted to smash everyone here to smithereens.