I Drove a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way.
This individual has long been known as a truly outsized character. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and not one to say no to an extra drink. Whenever our families celebrated, he is the person gossiping about the newest uproar to involve a member of parliament, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players for forty years.
It was common for us to pass the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. But, one Christmas, about 10 years ago, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, with a glass of whisky in hand, his luggage in the other, and sustained broken ribs. He was treated at the hospital and told him not to fly. Consequently, he ended up back with us, making the best of it, but appearing more and more unwell.
The Morning Rolled On
The morning rolled on but the humorous tales were absent in their typical fashion. He was convinced he was OK but his condition seemed to contradict this. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, carefully, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.
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 long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Deteriorating Condition
Upon our arrival, his state had progressed from peaky to barely responsive. Other outpatients helped us guide him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of hospital food and wind was noticeable.
Different though, was the spirit. One could see valiant efforts at festive gaiety all around, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; decorations dangled from IV poles and portions of holiday pudding went cold on bedside tables.
Upbeat nursing staff, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were bustling about and using that lovely local expression so peculiar to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
After our time at the hospital concluded, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and festive TV programming. We saw a lighthearted program on television, likely a mystery drama, and took part in a more foolish pastime, such as a local version of the board game.
By then it was quite late, and snowing, and I remember having a sense of anticlimax – did we lose the holiday?
Recovery and Retrospection
Even though he ultimately healed, he had actually punctured a lung and later developed a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas isn’t a personal favourite, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
Whether that’s strictly true, or contains some artistic license, I am not in a position to judge, but its annual retelling has done no damage to my pride. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
