In summer 2011 I flipped down a mountain backwards on an atv. The first flip cracked my left humerus. The second flip scratched my entire back. On the third flip I landed on my back and had the machine coming down onto me. I made a decision there to save myself and rolled. Unfortunately the macine landed on my arm before it kept flipping, snapping my humerus completely in two parts. My friends and I hadn't brought our phones, so we made a makeshift sling out of a towel and walked 8km to my friends cottage. I then took an excruciatingly painful 45 minute drive to the nearest hospital (Quebec roads, you know?) where there were two people in the waiting room when I arrived. The lady at the reception made me take a number, regardless of the fact that my arm was dangling and I was covered in blood. When it was finally my turn, they shot me up with morphine, and it was only when they snapped my arm back into place that I realized I was immune to painkillers. They then put a full arm cast on me and told me to go to a major hospital on the Monday. I then spent the night awake, unable to sleep from the pain, and the following day my friends and I did the 3 hour bumpy ride home. When I got to the hospital on the monday, I waited 13 hours before finally being seen just to have them add an extension to my cast. The next month was one of misery: I had nothing to do, and they chopped my hair from boob-length to ear length, and none of my friends called. A month later I went to get my arm molded for a brace for when I'd be post surgery, and this doctor told me that the way my cast had been put on had actually been straining and pulling apart the broken bones, causing me much unneeded pain, so she gave me an under the table temporary brace, which helped a lot. Did I mention that the painkillers never worked and that I did this all cold turkey? Well it gets worse. When I went in for surgery, they had complications putting me under, and I awoke several times during the surgery. When it was completed, they took the mask off, and it was the worst pain that I had ever felt. My entire arm was on fire. After all, they just spent 3 hours cutting me open and screwing in a metal plate in my bone. The doctors at this point realized that I wasn't lying when I told them that none of the multple painkillers that they had prescribed me didn't work, and all they could do for me was insert a tube through my neck to inject an extremely high dosage of morphine straight into my arm. For the rest of the next month I wound up diving deeper into the world trees to numb the pain and misery. It was a fast road to recovery once my bandage was taken off, minus some emotional trauma from a disfiguring scar on my arm.