I Took a Family Friend to the Emergency Room – and his condition shifted from unwell to scarcely conscious during the journey.
Our family friend has always been a larger than life character. Clever and unemotional – and not one to say no to another brandy. During family gatherings, he is the person discussing the latest scandal to catch up with a regional politician, or entertaining us with stories of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players during the last four decades.
We would often spend the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, before going our separate ways. But, one Christmas, about 10 years ago, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, holding a drink in one hand, his luggage in the other, and broke his ribs. He was treated at the hospital and told him not to fly. So, here he was back with us, trying to cope, but seeming progressively worse.
The Day Progressed
The hours went by, however, the stories were not coming in their typical fashion. He was convinced he was OK but he didn’t look it. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, cautiously, 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.
We considered summoning an ambulance, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
Upon our arrival, he’d gone from unwell to almost unconscious. Other outpatients helped us guide him to a ward, where the characteristic scent of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. There were heroic attempts at holiday cheer all around, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on nightstands.
Upbeat nursing staff, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were working diligently and using that charming colloquial address so particular to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
When visiting hours were over, we made our way home to chilled holiday sides and Christmas telly. We saw a lighthearted program on television, perhaps a detective story, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a local version of the board game.
It was already late, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – was Christmas effectively over for us?
Healing and Reflection
Although our friend eventually recovered, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and subsequently contracted DVT. And, while that Christmas does not rank among my favorites, it has become part of family legend 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 the story’s yearly repetition 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”.
