I don't remember my first bike crash, but I sure remember parts of the one I had Memorial Day of 2004. I finally started to feel free, the wind blowing around my hair, getting my braces off in two days, I was overjoyed to finally be rid of those things, and it was an absolutely drop dead gorgeous day. There is a high school by my house, and a track right behind it. It leads to a cul-de-sac. The school doesn't want people driving up to the track from the cul-de-sac, so they put 3 large poles in the way. Bikes fit through just great though. I had been riding around there with a few neighborhood friends. The high school was on a hill, so you could go flying down the hill, go on the s-curve and be hidden from view behind the shed before flying past the poles. Well I wanted to show off my new found skill to my parents. We all rode our bikes to the school, and sitting at the top of the hill, I told them to wait until I said they could go. Pedaling away as fast as I could on my little blue bike, I zoomed towards the s-curve and took it like a champion. Then came the poles. No sweat, I've done this dozens of times. Next thing I know, I'm laying on the ground, a shit-ton of pain is coming from my face, and my bike is far away from me. My mom slowly comes through the poles and comes rushing to me. By this time, I am a bloody mess. We get to the house, .25 miles away, and my mom sits me in the sink and starts to wash me off. I ask "what happened, did I fall off my bike?" My mom then starts flipping out, while I, having no idea why, am watching her yelling to my dad to start the car. Off to the hospital. Normally, when you get to a hospital, there's a queue that people have to wait for. Not me! They give me a bucket and a towel. I hold the towel to my face to stop the blood and the bucket under me to catch any blood I miss. A few minutes later, ICU! They lay me down and start scanning me. MRI, CAT scans, the whole shebang. Initially, they thought I was leaking spinal fluid from my nose. Warm up the helicopter. Nope, new guess. This is the maxillary bone. I broke this bone. Kill the helicopter, and put me in an ambulance. Rush me what would normally be an hour long ride in ~30 minutes to a newer, better hospital. By this time, it's midnight, a solid 8 hours after my mishap. They tell my parents, who are still freaking out as my teeth are sort of randomly placed in my mouth being held together by some braces, that a doctor is coming. Three hours later, the guy finally shows up. I've finally stopped crying, and my parents have changed their worry to anger at this guy not showing up for 3 freaking hours. So at 3 AM this guy finally shows up. He shoots my gums with anesthesia, and says he is going to try to push my teeth back in. This works just about as well as you think it would. Not at all. So at 3:30, we get in a car and drive back home. 4:30 AM I can finally sleep. The next day, I go to a doctor who is a professional in this sort of thing. They knock me out and start to work on my mouth. When I wake up a few hours later, I have a splint holding my teeth together. I can't eat solids for 6 weeks, just milkshakes and water. I also can't brush my teeth, I'm only allowed to use mouthwash. Then, I can slowly nurse my mouth to full food through applesauce, mashed potatoes, and the like. My teeth are no longer straight, so we my parents take me back to an orthodontist, but he cannot promise my teeth will stay in. Today, my teeth still have nice gaps, I have had two root canals, and my teeth are expected to die in the next few years. However, they're all still real, I can eat real food, and I still ride my bike (even if it took me a year and a half to build up the courage to actually ride the death trap again.)