I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and he went from unwell to barely responsive during the journey.
This individual has long been known as a truly outsized figure. Clever and unemotional – and never one to refuse to a further glass. Whenever our families celebrated, he would be the one discussing the newest uproar to befall a member of parliament, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players for forty years.
We would often spend Christmas morning with him and his family, before going our separate ways. But, one Christmas, roughly a decade past, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, whisky in one hand, his luggage in the other, and fractured his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and instructed him to avoid flying. Thus, he found himself back with us, trying to cope, but looking increasingly peaky.
As Time Passed
Time passed, yet the anecdotes weren’t flowing as they usually were. He insisted he was fine but his appearance suggested otherwise. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.
Therefore, before I could even placed a party hat on my head, we resolved to drive him to the emergency room.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
By the time we got there, he had moved from being peaky to barely responsive. Fellow patients assisted us get him to a ward, where the characteristic scent of institutional meals and air was noticeable.
Different though, was the spirit. One could see valiant efforts at festive gaiety in every direction, even with the pervasive depressing and institutional feel; festive strands were attached to medical equipment and portions of holiday pudding went cold on bedside tables.
Cheerful nurses, who no doubt would far rather have been at home, were bustling about and using that lovely local expression so particular to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
When visiting hours were over, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, perhaps a detective story, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
The hour was already advanced, and snow was falling, and I remember feeling deflated – was Christmas effectively over for us?
Recovery and Retrospection
Even though he ultimately healed, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and subsequently contracted a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas does not rank among my favorites, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
If that is completely accurate, or contains some artistic license, I am not in a position to judge, but the story’s yearly repetition has definitely been good for my self-esteem. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.