I Drove a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and he went from peaky to scarcely conscious during the journey.
He has always been a man of a bigger-than-life character. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and never one to refuse to an extra drink. During family gatherings, he is the person discussing the latest scandal to catch up with a local MP, or amusing us with accounts of the notorious womanizing of assorted players from the local club during the last four decades.
It was common for us to pass the holiday morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. But, one Christmas, some ten years back, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he fell down the stairs, whisky in one hand, his luggage in the other, and broke his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and advised against air travel. Consequently, he ended up back with us, making the best of it, but appearing more and more unwell.
The Day Progressed
The morning rolled on but the humorous tales were absent in their typical fashion. He insisted he was fine but his appearance suggested otherwise. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.
Thus, prior to me managing to don any celebratory headwear, my mother and I made the choice to take him to A&E.
We thought about calling an ambulance, but what would the wait time be on Christmas Day?
A Worrying Turn
By the time we got there, he’d gone from poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us help him reach a treatment area, where the characteristic scent of institutional meals and air permeated the space.
What was distinct, however, was the mood. One could see valiant efforts at festive gaiety everywhere you looked, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and portions of holiday pudding went cold on nightstands.
Upbeat nursing staff, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were moving busily and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
Once the permitted time ended, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We viewed something silly on television, likely a mystery drama, and played something even dafter, such as Sheffield’s take on Monopoly.
By then it was quite late, and snow was falling, and I remember having a sense of anticlimax – had we missed Christmas?
The Aftermath and the Story
Even though he ultimately healed, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and subsequently contracted deep vein thrombosis. And, although that holiday isn’t a personal favourite, it has entered into our family history as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
If that is completely accurate, or involves a degree of exaggeration, is not for me to definitively say, but its annual retelling 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”.
