It's really difficult to comprehend how the fuck you're still alive. That's one hell of a wreck.
I had my first car crash last year. Not nearly as bad as yours, but I feel you. I wrote my car off, ended up with just a nasty concussion and some bumps and bruises. I feel you on the airbag. I also remember the smell. Just a pungent stench of wrecked engine, smoke and that awful powder. It was an overwhelming smell pouring through the cracked windscreen.
Worst of all, my managing editor asked me to write a first-person feature on it for the paper the following week. And because I write the paper and had missed a few days off work, I was lacking in stories so it ended up on the front page. Which, on the bright side, I had complete freedom to write it and it was well received. I even got interviewed on radio about it.
The "You're supposed to write the news, not make it" jokes got old pretty quickly.