I Took a Close Friend of the Family to the Emergency Room – and his condition shifted from unwell to scarcely conscious on the way.
Our family friend has always been a bigger-than-life character. Clever and unemotional – and hardly ever declining to another brandy. Whenever our families celebrated, he’s the one discussing the newest uproar to involve a local MP, or regaling us with tales of the shameless infidelity of assorted players from the local club during the last four decades.
It was common for us to pass Christmas morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. Yet, on a particular Christmas, some ten years back, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he fell down the stairs, holding a drink in one hand, a suitcase gripped in the other, and sustained broken ribs. Medical staff had treated him and instructed him to avoid flying. Consequently, he ended up back with us, doing his best to manage, but seeming progressively worse.
The Day Progressed
The hours went by, however, the humorous tales were absent like they normally did. He was convinced he was OK but his appearance suggested otherwise. He endeavored to climb the stairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, carefully, 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 Deteriorating Condition
By the time we got there, he’d gone from unwell to almost unconscious. Fellow patients assisted us help him reach a treatment area, where the distinctive odor of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.
Different though, was the spirit. People were making brave attempts at festive gaiety all around, notwithstanding the fundamental clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and portions of holiday pudding went cold on tables next to the beds.
Upbeat nursing staff, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were working diligently and using that charming colloquial address so particular to the area: “duck”.
A Subdued Return Home
Once the permitted time ended, we made our way home to lukewarm condiments and Christmas telly. We viewed something silly on television, likely a mystery drama, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
By then it was quite late, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – had we missed Christmas?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and later developed DVT. And, while that Christmas isn’t a personal favourite, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
Whether that’s strictly true, or a little bit of dramatic licence, I couldn’t possibly comment, but its annual retelling 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”.
