I Took a Close Friend of the Family to the Emergency Room – and he went from peaky to scarcely conscious 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. Whenever our families celebrated, he would be the one discussing the most recent controversy to catch up with a member of parliament, or entertaining us with stories of the shameless infidelity of assorted players from the local club during the last four decades.
Frequently, we would share 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 fell down the stairs, holding a drink in one hand, suitcase in the other, and sustained broken 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 appearing more and more unwell.
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 attempted to go upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
So, before I’d so much as put on a festive hat, we resolved to take him to A&E.
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 poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of clinical cuisine and atmosphere permeated the space.
What was distinct, however, was the mood. One could see valiant efforts at holiday cheer all around, despite the underlying depressing and institutional feel; festive strands were attached to medical equipment and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on tables next to the beds.
Cheerful nurses, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were bustling about and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
Once the permitted time ended, we headed home to lukewarm condiments and festive TV programming. We viewed something silly on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as a local version of the board game.
The hour was already advanced, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – had we missed Christmas?
The Aftermath and the Story
While our friend did get better in time, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and later developed a serious circulatory condition. 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 contains some artistic license, I couldn’t possibly comment, but hearing it told each year has done no damage to my pride. True to his favorite phrase: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.