I Took a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and he went from peaky to scarcely conscious during the journey.
Our family friend has always been a bigger-than-life personality. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and never one to refuse to another brandy. During family gatherings, he would be the one discussing the latest scandal to catch up with a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players over the past 40 years.
We would often spend the holiday morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. But, one Christmas, roughly a decade past, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he fell down the stairs, whisky in one hand, his luggage in the other, and fractured his ribs. He was treated at the hospital and instructed him to avoid flying. Thus, he found himself back with us, doing his best to manage, but looking increasingly peaky.
The Day Progressed
The morning rolled on but the humorous tales were absent like they normally did. He insisted he was fine but he didn’t look it. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
Thus, prior to me managing to put on a festive hat, we resolved to take him to A&E.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?
A Worrying Turn
Upon our arrival, his state had progressed from peaky to barely responsive. People in the waiting room aided us get him to a ward, where the generic smell of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. People were making brave attempts at holiday cheer in every direction, even with the pervasive depressing and institutional feel; tinsel hung from drip stands and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on tables next to the beds.
Cheerful nurses, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were working diligently and using that charming colloquial address so peculiar to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
When visiting hours were over, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We watched something daft on television, probably Agatha Christie, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
It was already late, and snowing, and I remember experiencing a letdown – had we missed Christmas?
Healing and Reflection
Even though he ultimately healed, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and subsequently contracted deep vein thrombosis. And, while that Christmas is not my most cherished memory, it has entered into our family history as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
How factual that statement is, or contains some artistic license, I am not in a position to judge, but hearing it told each year has definitely been good for my self-esteem. True to his favorite phrase: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
