A sand truck crawled across the highway I was on. I was going 65 miles an hour and two separate thoughts went on in my head. 1.) Oh, my God, I’m going to die. 2.) How can I prevent this. I smashed into him totaling my car, barely scratched the heavy duty truck. I had relaxed noting no way to avoid the impact and survived with a bruised lip and I small gash on my knee. The officer took one look at me and said “I’ve taken dead people out of cars wrecked less than yours.” I was not impressed. I was worried about my Dad being mad at me.
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I am glad you are okay. 
It was many years ago, which is both good and bad. Good because I have had time to get over it. Bad because, at the time, there were no seat belts or power brakes.
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