Knowing you're not safe anywhere if people can find you, you crawl off and hide, tending your own wounds without the benefit of modern medical science. For the first couple days, you suffer through it, digging out the slugs and packing your wound with fresh earth and clay. You're starting to heal...sort of. Well, you're not dying from the injuries, anyway...not directly. You do have a pretty nasty infection, though, and you might have to get that amputated. You're thinking about all of this, moaning in agony, when the world starts to go dark. Wait, why is the world going dark? Oh, you're dying.