I Took a Close Friend of the Family to the Emergency Room – and his condition shifted from unwell to barely responsive on the way.
Our family friend has always been a bigger-than-life character. Clever and unemotional – and hardly ever declining to a further glass. Whenever our families celebrated, he would be the one discussing the most recent controversy to befall a local MP, or amusing us with accounts of the notorious womanizing of different footballers from Sheffield Wednesday for forty years.
Frequently, we would share the holiday 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 planning to join family abroad, he fell down the stairs, holding a drink in one hand, a suitcase gripped in the other, and broke his ribs. The hospital had patched him up and advised against air travel. Consequently, he ended up back with us, doing his best to manage, but appearing more and more unwell.
As Time Passed
The morning rolled on but the stories were not coming in their typical fashion. He was convinced he was OK but his appearance suggested otherwise. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.
Thus, prior to me managing to put on a festive hat, we resolved to get him to the hospital.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
Upon our arrival, he’d gone from poorly to hardly aware. People in the waiting room aided us get him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. There were heroic attempts at Christmas spirit all around, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; decorations dangled from IV poles and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on bedside tables.
Positive medical attendants, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were working diligently and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
Once the permitted time ended, we made our way home to lukewarm condiments and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, likely a mystery drama, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
The hour was already advanced, and it had begun to snow, 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 subsequently contracted DVT. And, although that holiday is not my most cherished memory, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
How factual that statement is, or a little bit of dramatic licence, is not for me to definitively say, but its annual retelling has done no damage to my pride. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
