I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and he went from unwell to scarcely conscious on the way.
Our family friend has always been a truly outsized personality. Witty, unsentimental – and not one to say no to another brandy. Whenever our families celebrated, he’s the one discussing the most recent controversy to catch up with a member of parliament, or entertaining us with stories of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players over the past 40 years.
It was common for us to pass Christmas morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. But, one Christmas, some ten years back, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, whisky in one hand, a suitcase gripped in the other, and fractured his ribs. He was treated at the hospital and advised against air travel. So, here he was back with us, trying to cope, but appearing more and more unwell.
The Morning Rolled On
Time passed, yet the stories were not coming like they normally did. He was convinced he was OK but his condition seemed to contradict this. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
Thus, prior to me managing to don any celebratory headwear, my mum and I decided to drive him to the emergency room.
We considered summoning an ambulance, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Deteriorating Condition
Upon our arrival, his state had progressed from poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us help him reach a treatment area, where the characteristic scent of hospital food and wind was noticeable.
What was distinct, however, was the mood. There were heroic attempts at Christmas spirit all around, even with the pervasive sterile and miserable mood; tinsel hung from drip stands and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on bedside tables.
Upbeat nursing staff, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were moving busily and using that lovely local expression so peculiar to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
Once the permitted time ended, we returned home to chilled holiday sides and festive TV programming. 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 snow was falling, and I remember having a sense of anticlimax – did we lose the holiday?
Recovery and Retrospection
Although our friend eventually recovered, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and subsequently contracted deep vein thrombosis. And, even if that particular Christmas does not rank among my favorites, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
Whether that’s strictly true, or involves a degree of exaggeration, is not for me to definitively say, but the story’s yearly repetition certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
