I Took a Family Friend to the Emergency Room – and his condition shifted from unwell to barely responsive during the journey.
He has always been a man of a truly outsized personality. Witty, unsentimental – and never one to refuse to an extra drink. During family gatherings, he’s the one discussing the newest uproar to catch up with a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the notorious womanizing of assorted players from the local club during the last four decades.
Frequently, we would share Christmas morning with him and his family, before going our separate ways. However, one holiday season, some ten years back, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, with a glass of whisky in hand, suitcase in the other, and broke his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and instructed him to avoid flying. So, here he was back with us, making the best of it, but seeming progressively worse.
The Morning Rolled On
The hours went by, however, the humorous tales were absent as they usually were. He insisted he was fine but his appearance suggested otherwise. He endeavored to climb the stairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.
Therefore, before I could even placed a party hat on my head, my mum and I decided to take him to A&E.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but what would the wait time be on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
When we finally reached the hospital, his state had progressed from poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us guide him to a ward, where the characteristic scent of clinical cuisine and atmosphere permeated the space.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. One could see valiant efforts at festive gaiety everywhere you looked, despite the underlying sterile and miserable mood; decorations dangled from IV poles and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on bedside tables.
Cheerful nurses, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were moving busily and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.
Heading Home for Leftovers
Once the permitted time ended, we returned home to lukewarm condiments and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as Sheffield’s take on Monopoly.
It was already late, and it had begun to snow, and I remember feeling deflated – had we missed Christmas?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and went on to get deep vein thrombosis. And, even if that particular Christmas is not my most cherished memory, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
If that is completely accurate, or contains some artistic license, is not for me to definitively say, but hearing it told each year 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”.