 When we turn up, we see the end result. You can prepare yourself as much as you think you can, but when you go to the scene and actually see what bodies can go through, you know, they're a real person just like us that have had something absolutely tragic happen to them. I reckon 90% of what we're walking into, you can deal with straight away and I've seen it before, but when you first go there, it's quite confronting. Just lots of screaming. You can smell the blood in the air. No one thinks it's going to happen to them and then it happens and that's when we meet them. We're basically meeting them when they're having the worst day of their life. Everyone will present a little bit differently. They all have their own presentations and ways of dealing with the situation and the pain, but they won't always be screaming or shouting and sometimes those patients that are quiet are just doing all they can to focus on dealing with the situation. And you can't get out. You are physically trapped. You have got bits of glass and metal stuck in your legs and you're broken. It doesn't look like it looks on the television. Trauma medicine is really battlefield medicine. It's not elegant. It's not subtle. It's brutal. You could argue that the worst-case scenario is not actually that you die. The worst-case scenario is that you don't die and we manage to save your life, but you don't return to any kind of meaningful existence. If only you had stopped at the red light. If only you had put your mobile phone down. You know, if only you'd taken more care and approached that stop sign. It can be a real waste of a life. A really quick, quickly made decision that has really lasting consequences. It's hard not to connect with that person as a human being in that situation because everybody has somebody who loves them. It's actually the worst bit of the whole experience. You know that you're going to go into this room and everybody's going to look up at you with fear and hope and you're just going to crush that hope.