It's funny how you can't really trust memories.
When I was a kid my uncle was shot while I was riding with him. I remember there being a gusher of blood coming out of this thigh and him driving hella fast, turning into a Hardee's parking lot and knocking the sign down.
What actually happened was he got hit, drove a few blocks, and hit a couple of corners to get away, and then lost consciousness, and crept to a stop in a Hardee's parking lot and wasn't close to hitting the sign.
I know the latter is what really happened, but I see the other story so vividly it's fukking crazy.