The doctor, surprised by the outcome, declared that I suffered no broken bones or bruises.
I can’t recall the event clearly, but here was how it unfolded.
It must have been late morning. Traffic had started to pick up in the resort city of Vung Tau, Vietnam. Back then this city had a tenth of the current population. Bicycling in the main road as a 10 year-old boy was considered normal.
Gum! Yes, that was the mission of my trip.
As I pedaled on a bike twice the size of what I should have been riding, a truck turned into the street. It blocked my view. I continued to follow the white truck for a few blocks. Impatient, I decided to venture to its side to take a peek at the traffic ahead.
It happened so fast that I can’t remember anything else except finding myself waking up 10 minutes later to my mom’s terrified face.
A motorcycle had swerved onto the side of the road, where I happened to be, and collided with me head on. People said I flew like a Frisbee and landed with a thud. Someone recognized me and ran like the wind to alert my mom of the situation.
I’ve always wondered how my mom could run that fast to the scene of the accident from our house a few blocks away.
Several hours later, I find myself walking out of the doctor’s office, suckling on a lollipop like nothing happened. I have no memory of what happened between the time I woke up and leaving the hospital.
My guardian angel must have been watching over me that day.