Traditionally, this didn't happen today. Actually, this happened 14 years ago, but as you'll see, this is probably the biggest FU of my life.
I'll set the scene. I'm 15 years old, and in Germany as part of my school exchange visit. It's two days into the two week visit trip, and some bright spark suggests we take to the road and go go-karting. Prior to this, I'd considered myself damn good on the track, and in past experiences, managed to beat all of my friends on the local circuit.
Anyway, we're 4 laps into a 6-lap race, I'm fighting hard to hold 2nd place, against the locals. I'm coming up the inside of the guy holding first place, about half-way along a 50 meter straight section before a chicane.
I figure I've got enough time to speed up, nip past the guy leading as we go into the first corner, and take pole position for the next race.
A nice plan, however, one guy, about 3 cars behind me decides he wants the victory for himself, and as I pull out to overtake, slams into my kart on the back left wheel, which is enough to push the whole thing off the track and into the tyre wall.
These things don't (but probably should) have seatbelts. I fly. Literally flying for a split second, leaving the kart behind, and ending up with my head and one shoulder inside a stack of tyres, in the manner of an errant lawn dart, embedded in the soft part of the skull of a neighbourhood kid.
In the process of leaving the car, my testicles decided they'd like a closer look at the steering column, my right knee smashed into the steering wheel, and my left shoulder dislocated whilst trying to force the rest of my body into the tyre, to follow my head.
It took 5 guys to free me. One of them had to cut the tyre I was wedged into to get me out.
The father of my German Exchange partner was nearby, in the adjoining bar (drink-gokart-driving? - what could go wrong?). He claimed, at the time to be a doctor, and would take me back to the family home, rather than a trip to the Emergency Room. -- Turns out, he was actually a veterinary surgeon, rather than a human doctor.
So, with my arm in a sling, and the help of my friend and my german exchange partner, I'm taken back to their house, where fortunately they've got painkillers and beer. Not quite as good as emergency medicine, but given they evidently had no intention of taking me to a doctor, and my German language skills weren't good enough to demand that myself, it'd have to do.
The next day, I wake up from a deeply painful night in bed, with testicles that've taken on the shape and colour of a large pomegranate. I can't walk, and I can't move my arm. Fuck.
I spent 2 days in bed, dosed up on painkillers, trying to recover. Finally manage to take a few very painful steps after that, wasn't sure what hurt more, my dislocated knee, or purple bollocks.
Recovery was Slow. I managed to re-dislocate both my shoulder and knee 3 times that year.
About 6 months after the accident, it transpires that whilst most UK gokarts i was used to have a top speed of about 20mph, these ones we'd been racing on, had been illegally derestricted, and I was probably doing 40 mph, and the guy who crashed into me was doing probably 10mph faster at the time of the crash.
-- Time passes -- (10 years or more) In the 10 years since the accident, I've had a permanently weakened shoulder and knee. I've been hit by a car, which exacerbated and caused both old injuries to resurface. I've had an MRI scan on both joints which shows irreparable damage.
So yeah, I permanently fucked up my knee and shoulder by going gokarting.
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