I had one. I was little and were out with my friends. We were at a hospitals back entrance and there was a ramp.
We had bicycles and drove down the ramp. On my turn my right handle got louse and myeft hand didn't get it and drove me in a bike stand. I got a bad concoction a d my friends made the split. I was alone and bleeding.
I remembered vividly how I managed to go back home.
I rang the door bell, but my brother didn't let me in. So I had to go to a neighbor who phoned an ambulance.
In the hospital Afro-American doctor tried to set an iv, but didn't managed to do it right. Later, based on this events I feared everything what had to do with needles.
I never had a doubt about this memory till I started to make a total recapitalization of my life. In connection with this endeavor I made interviews with all family members and found out that I never was in any kind of hospital.
So I learned a lot about false memories and visited a shaman woman which found a little boy. She made him understand that he wasn't at the right place and he left finally.
After that it was only a memory of a memory. I could replay it, but it wasn't my memory anymore. Like I had read a story and remembered it, but it wasn't vivid anymore.
Today my fear of needles is gone. I visited the places of the story, but it wasn't there anymore. Only the hospital still stands like I remembered it.