I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and he went from unwell to barely responsive during the journey.
He has always been a man of a bigger-than-life figure. Clever and unemotional – and hardly ever declining to another brandy. During family gatherings, he’s the one gossiping about the latest scandal to involve a local MP, or amusing us with accounts of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players for forty years.
Frequently, we would share Christmas morning with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. But, one Christmas, some ten years back, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, whisky in one hand, suitcase in the other, and fractured his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and advised against air travel. Thus, he found himself back with us, doing his best to manage, but appearing more and more unwell.
The Day Progressed
The morning rolled on but the stories were not coming in their typical fashion. He maintained that he felt alright but his appearance suggested otherwise. He endeavored to climb the stairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, carefully, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
So, before I’d so much as put on a festive hat, my mother and I made the choice to get him to the hospital.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
When we finally reached the hospital, he’d gone from unwell to almost unconscious. Other outpatients helped us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. There were heroic attempts at festive gaiety everywhere you looked, even with the pervasive depressing and institutional feel; decorations dangled from IV poles and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on bedside tables.
Cheerful nurses, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were bustling about and using that lovely local expression so peculiar to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
Once the permitted time ended, we returned home to chilled holiday sides and Christmas telly. We viewed something silly on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as a local version of the board game.
It was already late, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – had we missed Christmas?
Recovery and Retrospection
While our friend did get better in time, he had actually punctured a lung and later developed a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas does not rank among my favorites, it has entered into our family history as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
How factual that statement is, or a little bit of dramatic licence, I am not in a position to judge, but the story’s yearly repetition certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
