Today I witnessed my first crash call.  To be honest I did not actually realise what was happening till I saw nurses running around shouting ‘where is it?’.  I followed the general stampede, and with a move worthy of a rugby forward about to score a try, dodged past two health care assistants trying to stop me adding to the numbers in the already crowded room.  I was not going to miss this, perhaps my one opportunity to attend a crash call during my training.  Doctors and nurses swarmed around the unfortunate patient who had suffered a massive MI on returning from surgery.  I was alarmed at how disturbed I felt about the experience.  This was real exciting medicine, but somehow it did not feel like that.  I felt sad for the old man in obvious pain and distress amongst a room of strangers who did not even know his name.  They fought to save his life, but in a strange way he, the man, was forgotten in the process.  I knew it was important for my training, but I felt slightly ashamed to be a spectator intruding on this private tragedy.