By a snowplow.
No, I'm not kidding. I got hit by a fucking snowplow.
Fortunately, I didn't break anything. Unfortunately, I had to get stitches in my foot (which were removed yesterday). Also, there's so much fluid collecting in my thigh that the ER doctor I saw yesterday put me on a week of rest. When he saw my leg, he said, "I've never seen that before," which, on the list of Things You Never Want to Hear Your Doctor Say, is second only to "Oops." Hopefully, it'll start going away by itself, so I don't have to have surgery to drain it off.
When I got hit, I freaked the hell out. I screamed my head off for about a minute, then thought, "Well, this isn't helping any," and shut up, pulled out my cell phone, and called 911. I was still shaking and crying, though--I wasn't that much in control.
But, hey, still alive, nothing broken--I got off lucky. Sure, I have to miss a week of work, and I have no idea how I'm going to pay all my bills this month, but I have my life and (relative) health.