An awfully big adventure.

So the conclusion to the car problems was the return of the hire car to Durban this weekend and a debauched night out with some friends.
We then piled in to a car for the 5 hour drive home. 2 hours outside of Durban we came upon a mini-bus crash.
Mini-buses are the transport system used by most locals and some more foolhardy doctors. They charge very reasonable prices by packing themselves full (I've heard tales of being squished between a Zulu-mama and her chickens). And they don't have seatbelts.
It was unclear what had happened but this one was lying on it's roof, with passengers in pools of blood around it. One ambulance had arrived but it was clear that the number of casualties was more than they could handle alone.
With three doctors in the car none of us thought twice as we pulled up and jumped out; it really is a legal and moral obligation. However, we were all quite relieved when one of the boys pulled gloves out of his bag for us.
In trauma speak the crash had 3 reds (severe cases), 5 yellows (moderate) and 9 greens (the walking wounded). There was also a baby without a scratch on it. We spent an hour at the scene, working alongside the paramedics to stabilise patients. At one point a patient's airway was obviously compromised and as he had smashed his face to pieces, the only way to secure his airway was to insert a tube through his neck. The other doctor and I faced each other; I knew the theory from a book and he had done it on a pig. Bravely he picked up the knife. And did an excellent job. Sadly despite all of this, the patient died in the ambulance on the way to hospital.

For non-doctors this would probably seem something we as medical professionals are equipped to deal with however, there is a big difference between being at work and being on a motorway, both in terms of available resources and emotions.
The experience has left us all quite shaken.