Sydney, July 1982. I was hit by a car and critically injured. I died on the operating table.
I never thought about anyone but myself. I was puffed up by pride and never knew the word humility.
Faith? The only faith I had was in myself. A wild child who was bulletproof until, until my life changed forever.

Riding my motorcycle home from work, I was hit by a car that came out from a stop sign. The force of the collision threw me over the car into the path of oncoming traffic.
Luckily for me a truck driver saw my body fly through the air and land on the opposite side of the road.
Instinct or faith told me to tourniquet my left femoral artery. I screwed up my wet-weather pants and applied pressure to that artery.

After the ambulance man had stabilised me, he said, "You saved your own life, you would have bled to death."
Someone removed my helmet. I was blind.
People gathered around and I could hear muffled talking, like being underwater.

The ambulance sped off to the hospital. I lay on a gurney in the corridor.
My vision was slowly returning.

"Can you sign a form?" A red-headed anesthetist smiled.
"What's it for?"
"Amputation."

I passed out. When I awoke, I was in ICU . For some reason (apart from morphine) I felt a different person.
When I died on the operating table, I believe God had spoken to me.
"Have faith in Me. Be my hands."

The months passed and a Priest visited whenever he was on my floor.
Instead of pride, I had gained faith and humility.
We read the Bible and I remembered the words. "Without faith it is impossible to please God."

Yes, I had my left leg amputated. After three months I walked in a temporary leg. Praise the Lord.