Updated: Mar 18
I was living in Rugby at the time. I cycled home after playing volleyball and woke up in casualty, with a doctor stitching up my face. The nurse told doctor that my face needed darning, not stitching.
My memory was affected and I could not remember any personal details. I could not tell the medical staff where I lived, my name or my telephone number. Part of my brain was puzzled by this as I knew I was in a hospital and knew that I was in room with walls and floor.
As I gradually regained my senses, I discovered that I had broken a tooth. Two days later, a doctor recovered the missing half of the the tooth from inside my upper lip.
I never did find out what had happened. I had been taken to hospital by a van driver who had seen me pushing my bicycle in a big circle in the middle of the road, my face covered in blood.
My doctor kept me in hospital for three days and only let me go home when I was able to convince him that my memory had returned. My scars healed eventually. I eventually decided that after losing myself for a few days, I was ready to started a new phase in my life.