panic, but not at the disco

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If I am ever unfortunate enough to witness a multiple casualty accident I will probably burst with panic. I know this is true because I know me. It won't be a headless chicken running around the yard type of panic. There won't be flapping of hands and people slapping my cheek, telling me to get a grip, girl! No. I have mastered the other kind of panic, the sort of panic whereby I see something happen and I freeze. Instead of going into overdrive, flapping and squawking, my brain seems to slow down to such an extent that it may as well have ceased to function completely. I have thoughts, but they can't form themselves into actions or words. Panic paralysis. Take today. I was merrily leaving work, and had just crossed the road, when my peripheral vision spied a spillage of girl off bike. Big crunch. Loud yell. Oopsy. Did I rush to offer her a helping hand? Did I gush with sympathy? No. I picked up her bike and then stood there like an imbecile whilst she howled for a little bit and then stood up. All the while I was thinking about how I needed to keep walking or I would miss my bus. Honestly! I think I must be missing an important part of my brain. I know her as she's a mature student in a class I support in. I walked with her for ten minutes, made sure she was steady on her feet and okay to cycle, and we chatted about this and that and the other. Maybe in the case of accidents my strongest role would be as calmer-downer after the shock of the event has subsided? The same thing happened with Mumsy two or three years ago. One second we're chatting as we walk along the street, the next second she's face down on the pavement. I suffered panic paralysis then too, whilst complete strangers helped my Mumsy back onto her feet. What must people think of me?!