life is fragile

Last night, or, rather, very early this morning, I slipped on a cobblestone and fell face forward onto the wooden steps I was about to walk up.
An hour later, a man walking down the stone steps in the same area slipped and fell, face forward, over the iron railing onto the cobblestones below.
My left leg, just below the knee, now has a very large bruise from its contact with the edge of the lowest step. The left side of my face, diagonally from just below the cheekbone to the forehead above the eyebrow, is mildly scraped and bruised from collision with the edge of the penultimate step. I ended up with a slightly bloody scrape on the leftmost part of my eyelid, with bruising and some swelling. Thanks to the quick actions of Martin, Hamil and Jose, three brothers who also happen to be athletic coaches, I'll be a bit sore and colorful for a while, but okay. A young nurse visiting from Tennessee also chanced to be on the porch of the Bayou Cafe; she verified, by close study of my eyes and asking me questions, that I was not concussed and didn't need an ambulance. What a relief to all of us there! And then I just felt embarrassed and stupid while I hung out on the porch in a chair, periodically switching the improvised ice bag from my face to my leg while sipping some water, while the three brothers reassured me and checked on me. The peace guy was checking on me, too, as we both listened to the music for the next hour.
The fallen man's companions rushed to his immobile side, the man face-down and splayed out on the uneven cobblestones of the riverside ramp. A young woman sat beside him, beseeching others to "please get him help. he's a doctor." A young man sat to the other side, holding his right hand and talking to him, trying to get him to squeeze his hand. Another young woman, who had maybe been behind the group, had rushed over to where I was and asked if i could "please do her a favor and call 911. The man over there fell off the stairs." So I did call, walking over to inform the 911 operator of what was going on and where exactly we were. The young man was also on the phone to 911. Meanwhile, the young woman who had come to me had gone back up to Bay Street and managed to flag down a policeman. And the ambulance was there in just another minute.
The man never moved.
I had walked back over to the Bayou's porch, out of the way of the paramedics, hoping the makeshift bandage on my face wouldn't attract their attention. I need not have been concerned about that. The man on the ground had all of their attention.
Then they lifted him into the ambulance and stopped its flashing lights and pulled over to the side for a few minutes. I'm sure they knew life on the porch had stopped, waiting to see what was happening. To belay our fears, they turned the flashing lights and siren back on and raced on up the ramp to the street and away! But I don;t think the man was alive. I had heard the gargling noises and rasping breathing while I was on the phone summoning help. I had seen the rush of fresh blood below his face when the noises stopped.
Two falls, one going up wooden steps, one going down stone stairs.
Life is fragile.