I never sit on the front row; it always seems a bit presumptuous, if you know what I mean. It's no good turning back now. I'm soaked to the skin already but it's not as if the rain is exceptionally cold; quite exhilarating really and it can't last long -a summer shower, that's all.

It's not too far to that wooded area ahead, just that these darned ploughed ridges of the field and the mud are making it difficult to walk. And it's wet.
A bit of positivity, that's it; that's all I need: nearly there, and the rain is bound to stop before I turn for home; I will be able to walk around the edge of the field on the way back - maybe scrape this mud off my shoes on the grass. Anyway, anything's better than a claustrophobic operating theatre. I don't feel really comfortable.

I'm physically shaking as the rain the trickles beneath my jumper, pooling cold and wet in the small of my back. Positivity, stay positive.

You hear about these idiots who climb mountains or walk remote moors in the wrong clothing; you, sat cosily besides the hearth in your snug lounge, join the TV experts who nod sagely whilst pronouncing such adventurers' behaviour as foolhardy. So, why am I here? To clear my head, it's been a bad day, that's why.

Must keep going - sadly these poor shoes will never again be paired with my interview suit; ha! I have a pristine pair of Wellingtons in the hallway. Joy said they'd come in handy one day - that's why we separated - darling Joy was never wrong.
She'd not be too pleased about the shoes, either. Ah, well.

Well, I'm here now, at the edge of the woods; I didn't account for this ditch - and the rain has swollen the flow. It's still raining. Still I'm sure I can jump it; I can grab that tree stump as I land. The boys' used to love climbing trees and jumping streams when they were younger; when we all were younger. I did it then, I'll do it now! Here we go: one, two, three . . . and jump. Whoa, this bank is slippery. Mind the tree-stump.

Why am I wet and shivering? I feel sick. I can't move. I must try to climb out of this ditch; my leg really hurts and I have a head ache - I can feel the warmth of the blood running down my cheek.
I daren't lay here in this water much longer; I must get out. Where's my phone. Damn, it's back at the hospital in my scrubs.
I can't see my leg beneath the water but it definitely feels injured - badly, I'd say. Well, now I know how my patients feel when I jerk their damaged limbs about. In future I'll show more empathy.
Oh, this is ludicrous: here I am, an orthopaedic surgeon, and I can't even stand up!

Joy would love to be here now. I wish she was here now. I may not be her favourite human right now but she would help me out of this freezing ditch.
I'm feeling tired - I need to clear my head - my mind feels fuzzy. I'll just have short rest; maybe someone will come along. I'll just close my eyes for a moment.

Thank goodness: someone is coming. It's Joy. "Hello my love. I knew you'd come. Why are you with Darbyshire? I've told you, I don't want that man hanging around you!"
"Right boys, let's try jumping the ditch - shouldn't be difficult."
"What is it, nurse? Can't you see I'm busy." I'm so, so tired, really tired now. I must have a rest. "My leg really hurts; can one of you call an ambulance please?" This is so comfortable laying here, I must rest my legs, they feel numb, but it's getting dark. I'm so sleepy I'll just have little doze.

[THE END]

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