Here's entry 3! Please review if you can and don't forget- keep a note of the "P.S"'s at the bottom of each entry! -Sophie x

3.10.14

Dear diary,

It's fair to say I have had the worst couple of days of my life so far.

Yesterday we had a serious crash on the M40, resulting in us all being injured in one way or another.

I was sat up front with Ethan, then it was Lily and Tess, then Ash at the back. A large range river came out of no-where, and before Ethan had the time to do anything, it smashed into the left side of us. We were taken completely off the road and flipped onto our side. I lost consciousness for those few minutes, whisked away by another force so I didn't have to experience the horror of the impact.

Unfortunately I had to wake up. I found myself hand off the side of my seat, with blood trickling down the side of my face. My hand was probably fractured as it killed whenever I moved it. I tried to ask how everyone was, but my voice came out no stronger than a hoarse whisper.

Tess was fine, thank God, or Charlie would have never, ever forgiven me. Lily was screaming in pain; she had lost all feeling in her shoulder and was absolutely petrified. Ash was trapped right at the back, a large piece of metal where the seat had snapped was digging into the back of his leg. He was floating in and out of consciousness, like Ethan who was trapped next to me. I felt for his pulse but it was very weak, and he didn't wake until the paramedics got there. I phones for them, injuring my arm further trying to get it, but it was a risk I was willing to take to save my team.

Jeff appeared first, running over to us.

"It's our lot!" he'd shouted, dread filling his voice, "it's our lot Dix!"

I was the only one able to get out, so I gingerly climbed out of my open (or rather smashed) window, trying not to cry out as pain shot up my arm.

I climbed down and into Jeff's arms, and very nearly broke down in front of him. He soothed me though and I managed to keep a straight face for the time being; I broke down later on.

Trying to hide my arm, I talked Jeff through everyone's conditions, and stayed at the crash until Lily and Tess were both freed. I wanted to stay until everyone was out; I was worried, you couldn't blame me, but I was more use back at the hospital, and deep down I knew it. I went back with Tess and Lily, trying to calm her down. All the way back she was screaming what tests she needed to have done, as if we were just passers-by rather than her colleagues. They always say that doctors make the worst patients, and now I see why.

Charlie cornered me when I walked in and immediately started fussing over my arm. I resisted him at first but then I gave in. I was exhausted.

With my wrist diagnosed and strapped up, I was able to start treating again- my first patient being the driver of the Landover that was brought in with Big Mac and Tamzin. I was unnecessarily sharp with him, I realise that now, but I was angry. Angry that it wasn't him who was fighting for his life rather than our driver. Charlie cornered me after, but I couldn't take it. I walked off to my office, the only place I feel remotely safe in that hospital.

As soon as I shut the door, the tears came; fast and furious, spilling down my cheeks. Placing my back against the cool wall, my legs gave way and I slid to the floor, on the verge of a panic attack. I stayed like that for about half an hour, just going over and over what had happened that morning. I gave myself enough time for my eyes to lose their puffy-ness before emerging from my office.

But it was about to get so much worse. I got a call from Dixie to say there had been an explosion and they were coming in with Ash, but it sounded like she'd been crying too.

They brought Ash in and Dixie followed behind, but there was no Jeff. I quickly realised what had happened and froze- both mentally and physically. My vision slowed and Tamzin's voice was like a foghorn in my head: "bring him back Dixie, please".

It turns out he was planning to go down on one knee when he returned, and poor Tamzin was heartbroken.

Everyone went for a drink for Jeff in the pub after their shift, but I just couldn't face it.

All this happened yesterday, but I can still see it as clear as day: the looks on people's faces when they saw Ethan, the state of the car, the deathly stillness after the immediate crash, but most of all- the heartbroken faces of my team when they left the building, and the fact they didn't even try come to me for comfort.

I feel like it was my fault. If I hadn't have suggested the wretched trip out, none of this would have happened. Ethan wouldn't be bed ridden, Ash wouldn't have a limp, Cal wouldn't have had to operate on his own brother, and Dixie wouldn't be a widow.

It's my fault, it is, and no-one can convince me otherwise. Not that anyone would care enough to ask me how I was anyway.

Yours,

Connie.

(P.S- made a list of names for you)