Colleen had come to pick me up from campus and we were driving back towards home; she entered the “suicide lane” to make a turn, and someone in oncoming traffic decided to use that same lane for passing, quickly. The combined speed was probably over 75 mph and both cars were totaled. The other driver and Colleen both suffered predictable neck and back injuries.
The seatbelt in our junkyard-rescued Buick failed to latch. While it kept me from flying completely into the dashboard, it did not prevent my head from smashing the windshield. The only vivid memory I have is a paramedic patiently explaining that I had picked up the wrong glasses and that mine were broken.
I only spent one evening in the hospital for observation, but suffered migraines routinely afterwards. They subsided over time, only reaching the point I would stop panicking about onset signals after several years.