So I Guess I Won't Be Cooking My Scheduled Meals This Week

I had my meals planned and my grocery list ready to go. I got up this morning, fed the BabyGirl, and went for a run. I was all set to drop off library books on my way to work, but that wasn't what God had in store for me.
On this wet and foggy morning I slid off the road coming around a curve and collided with a tree head-on. I was driving the car we just bought last weekend, no less. When I realized the whole situation I was hanging sideways in the driver's seat with my seat belt still on. I saw blood dripping from my head onto my purse sitting in the passenger seat (which was now directly below me). I screamed for a few minutes, then called Beardface (still screaming a little). This was, of course, at 5:30 this morning, so I woke him up and made him drive out to meet his wife who, oh by the way, had just totaled our new vehicle. I then called 9-1-1, in a calmer state, and even calmer yet, I called my office to let them know I wouldn't be coming in this morning.
As I sat dangling sideways in the driver's seat of our newest purchase I began to pray. Why today? Why now? Why this car? Why me? God does everything for a reason; I'm sure of it. What His reason for this accident was, I'm not sure. I know I should drive more carefully, and I have learned my lesson. But I feel that there is more to this situation than that. When praying about buying this car, doors kept opening. Both Beardface and I felt like we really were meant to buy this car. So I'm confused about where God is really going with this event.
Anyway, not to defer from my original topic.
After walking out of the back window of the vehicle and plopping myself on the side of a fire truck, an EMT started to check my vital signs and any injuries. I knew my face was pretty swollen, and my thumb felt a bit painful. Honestly, there were no other complaints I had. After finishing paperwork, Beardface took me to the emergency center (to avoid the long wait in the ER). After a few x-rays and being told over and over again how lucky I am to be alive, the doctor informed me I broke my thumb (and maybe my nose; she didn't want to unnecessarily x-ray my face since there is no treatment for a broken nose).
I know I'm lucky to be alive, and I know God has plans for me. But really, how am I supposed to cook with a broken thumb!?