I'd never really considered myself lucky per se, though I have been in quite a few scrapes along the way and typically come out the other side intact, or mostly intact. Case in point, as the wall fell I acted on instinct and dove to the right, the canister still clutched against me. I aimed for a pile of stacked chairs that normally graced the dining room. I just managed to slide under them, head and shoulders protected, as the crashing set landed on my legs, pinning me a moment while I coughed from the dust raised by the collapse.
Panting and jerking on my boots that caught on the top edge, I finally wriggled my way out from under the stack, shaking from the adrenaline surge but happy to be intact. I'd be a bit bruised later, and likely sore in places I wasn't feeling yet past the rush of tingling that told me I was alive despite myself. At least this time I didn't end up with a concussion or in the hospital. I'd take it.