Splitting hairs

I've always been a little accident prone and slightly off balance (I often hit the door jamb when walking through doorways and seldom walk in a straight line), but today took the cake.  I took a friend to the Norval Foundation gallery for a birthday lunch and to see the exhibitions which she hadn't seen on a previous visit. After first arranging a table for later at the Skotnes restaurant, we proceeded to the reception area of the main building, via the automatic revolving door.
It is no exaggeration to say that this door resembles an ice-cream maker, with the three paddles revolving at a fair pace to churn the creamy ingredients. Well, it churned me out at a pace that caused me to exit the inside before quite reaching the open space on the other side and I hit my face against the glass with a force that bent my glasses, jarred my brain and nearly gave me whiplash. I stumbled towards a pillar and leaned against it, pressing my palm to my eye where the pain was. The lady behind the counter in the shop rushed over (as did my friend) to see if I was alright and I took my hand away to see that it was covered in blood. I had split my eyebrow along the socket. I looked and felt as though I had done a bout in the ring with Manny Pacquiao.
My first concern was whether I would have a black eye! Not being able to see myself, and with two concerned faces peering into mine going ooh and aah, I had no idea of the severity. The words 'stitches' and 'claims' were bandied about as I was led to a seat and another person arrived with first aid to clean up and staunch the bleeding (which was not severe). I assured them I was fine and didn't have a headache or double vision (although it was blurred due to not having my glasses on). Security management arrived to take my details, record a photograph of the damage and advise that I should let them know of any medical expenses I might incur.
By now it was clear that I was going to survive perfectly well and continue with lunch and the exhibitions, but was very appreciative of the attention and handling of the event. It was also clear that no black eye was developing and the wound was almost unnoticeable, so I was very happy to carry on as normal. I must tell you that the first thing they asked was whether I wanted an ambulance! I have a very high pain threshold and this sometimes prevents me from seeing injuries in the same way as the medical person attending to me, but it certainly helps a quick recovery. Interestingly, the wound is exactly the same as one I have had since early childhood, in the same place but a millimetre lower. I obviously am in the habit of letting my head precede my feet when taking a gap.
The exhibition of photographs by David Goldblatt of the mines and mineworkers in the 60s was just as evocative the second time, and the lunch was excellent!