When I was knocked off I wasn't hurt beyond minor scratches and bruises, but if I had been I'd have been wanting proper legal advice.
The driver was fine at the roadside, but when I didn't get any response to the letter with the bill for repairs that I put through his door, I went back round to the house to find that he'd moved out, leaving the place empty, with a pile of unopened mail on the doormat. "They're nice people, they're not like that!" said the neighbour who seemed to think I was a mad axe murderer as she peered timidly through her door chain. When I checked the electoral roll at the council office, it turned out he'd given me a false name.
Eventually, the police reluctantly gave me his insurance details, and they paid up without quibble.