I Took a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and his condition shifted from unwell to barely responsive on the way.
He has always been a man of a bigger-than-life figure. Clever and unemotional – and never one to refuse to a further glass. At family parties, he is the person chatting about the most recent controversy to befall a member of parliament, or amusing us with accounts of the shameless infidelity of assorted players from the local club over the past 40 years.
It was common for us to pass Christmas morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. However, one holiday season, some ten years back, when he was planning to join family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, with a glass of whisky in hand, a suitcase gripped in the other, and fractured his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and advised against air travel. Consequently, he ended up back with us, doing his best to manage, but looking increasingly peaky.
As Time Passed
Time passed, yet the stories were not coming in their typical fashion. He was convinced he was OK 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 did not manage.
Therefore, before I could even put on a festive hat, my mother and I made the choice to drive him to the emergency room.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but what would the wait time be on Christmas Day?
A Deteriorating Condition
When we finally reached the hospital, he had moved from being poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us help him reach a treatment area, where the characteristic scent of hospital food and wind permeated the space.
Different though, was the spirit. People were making brave attempts at Christmas spirit in every direction, despite the underlying sterile and miserable mood; decorations dangled from IV poles and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on nightstands.
Positive medical attendants, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were moving busily and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
After our time at the hospital concluded, we made our way home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as a local version of the board game.
The hour was already advanced, and it had begun to snow, and I remember feeling deflated – had we missed Christmas?
Healing and Reflection
Although our friend eventually recovered, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and later developed a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas isn’t a personal favourite, it has entered into our family history as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
How factual that statement is, or a little bit of dramatic licence, is not for me to definitively say, but its annual retelling 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”.
