I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way.
Our family friend has always been a larger than life character. Witty, unsentimental – and not one to say no to an extra drink. At family parties, he would be the one gossiping about the latest scandal to involve a local MP, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of different footballers from Sheffield Wednesday over the past 40 years.
It was common for us to pass the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, before going our separate ways. Yet, on a particular Christmas, roughly a decade past, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, holding a drink in one hand, suitcase in the other, and sustained broken ribs. The hospital had patched him up and instructed him to avoid flying. Consequently, he ended up back with us, trying to cope, but appearing more and more unwell.
The Day Progressed
The morning rolled on but the stories were not coming in their typical fashion. He insisted he was fine but his condition seemed to contradict this. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.
Therefore, before I could even 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 what would the wait time be on Christmas Day?
A Worrying Turn
When we finally reached the hospital, his state had progressed from poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us get him to a ward, where the generic smell of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.
Different though, was the spirit. People were making brave attempts at holiday cheer everywhere you looked, despite the underlying sterile and miserable mood; tinsel hung from drip stands and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on bedside tables.
Cheerful nurses, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were working diligently and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
After our time at the hospital concluded, we headed home to lukewarm condiments and holiday television. We viewed something silly on television, likely a mystery drama, and played something even dafter, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
It was already late, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – did we lose the holiday?
Healing and Reflection
Even though he ultimately healed, he had actually punctured a lung and subsequently contracted deep vein thrombosis. 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 couldn’t possibly comment, but hearing it told each year 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”.
