I Drove a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from unwell to scarcely conscious on the way.
This individual has long been known as a larger than life character. Witty, unsentimental – and never one to refuse to an extra drink. During family gatherings, he would be the one chatting about the latest scandal to befall a local MP, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players for forty years.
We would often spend the holiday 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 scheduled to meet family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, with a glass of whisky in hand, his luggage in the other, and broke his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and instructed him to avoid flying. Thus, he found himself back with us, doing his best to manage, but seeming progressively worse.
As Time Passed
The morning rolled on but the anecdotes weren’t flowing like they normally did. He was convinced he was OK but his appearance suggested otherwise. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
Therefore, before I could even don any celebratory headwear, we resolved 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
Upon our arrival, he’d gone from peaky to barely responsive. Other outpatients helped us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of institutional meals and air permeated the space.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. People were making brave attempts at festive gaiety everywhere you looked, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on nightstands.
Cheerful nurses, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were moving busily and using that charming colloquial address so particular to the area: “duck”.
Heading Home for Leftovers
After our time at the hospital concluded, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and festive TV programming. We viewed something silly on television, probably Agatha Christie, and took part in a more foolish pastime, such as a local version of the board game.
The hour was already advanced, and snowing, 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 later developed a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas isn’t a personal favourite, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
If that is completely accurate, or involves a degree of exaggeration, I couldn’t possibly comment, but its annual retelling has done no damage to my pride. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
