I Drove a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and he went from peaky to scarcely conscious during the journey.
This individual has long been known as a bigger-than-life character. Witty, unsentimental – and never one to refuse to a further glass. At family parties, he would be the one chatting about the most recent controversy to befall a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of different footballers from Sheffield Wednesday over the past 40 years.
Frequently, we would share the holiday morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. However, one holiday season, about 10 years ago, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, whisky in one hand, suitcase in the other, and sustained broken ribs. He was treated at the hospital and instructed him to avoid flying. Consequently, he ended up back with us, trying to cope, but seeming progressively worse.
The Morning Rolled On
Time passed, yet the humorous tales were absent as they usually were. He was convinced he was OK but he didn’t look it. He endeavored to climb the stairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, carefully, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.
Therefore, before I could even placed a party hat on my head, we resolved to take him to A&E.
We considered summoning an ambulance, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?
A Deteriorating Condition
By the time we got there, his state had progressed from poorly to hardly aware. Other outpatients helped us get him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of institutional meals and air was noticeable.
Different though, was the spirit. There were heroic attempts at holiday cheer in every direction, despite the underlying sterile and miserable mood; tinsel hung from drip stands and portions of holiday pudding went cold on nightstands.
Cheerful nurses, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were working diligently and using that charming colloquial address so particular to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
After our time at the hospital concluded, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, probably Agatha Christie, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a local version of the board game.
The hour was already advanced, and snowing, and I remember experiencing a letdown – was Christmas effectively over for us?
Healing and Reflection
Even though he ultimately healed, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and went on to get a serious circulatory condition. And, even if that particular Christmas does not rank among my favorites, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
Whether that’s strictly true, or involves a degree of exaggeration, I am not in a position to judge, but hearing it told each year certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.