I Drove a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way.
He has always been a man of a larger than life character. Witty, unsentimental – and hardly ever declining to another brandy. Whenever our families celebrated, he’s the one chatting about the newest uproar to catch up with a member of parliament, or entertaining us with stories of the shameless infidelity of various Sheffield Wednesday players during the last four decades.
We would often spend the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. But, one Christmas, some ten years back, when he was planning to join family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, holding a drink in one hand, a suitcase gripped 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, trying to cope, but looking increasingly peaky.
The Day Progressed
The morning rolled on but the anecdotes weren’t flowing in their typical fashion. He insisted he was fine but his appearance suggested otherwise. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.
Thus, prior to me managing to put on a festive hat, my mum and I decided to drive him to the emergency room.
We thought about calling an ambulance, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Deteriorating Condition
By the time we got there, he had moved from being unwell to almost unconscious. Other outpatients helped us help him reach a treatment area, where the distinctive odor of institutional meals and air was noticeable.
What was distinct, however, was the mood. People were making brave attempts at festive gaiety in every direction, despite the underlying clinical and somber atmosphere; decorations dangled from IV poles and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on tables next to the beds.
Upbeat nursing staff, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were bustling about and using that great term of endearment so peculiar to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
When visiting hours were over, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and festive TV programming. We watched something daft on television, perhaps a detective story, and took part in a more foolish pastime, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
The hour was already advanced, and snowing, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and later developed a serious circulatory condition. And, although that holiday 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, is not for me to definitively say, 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”.
