I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to barely responsive during the journey.
This individual has long been known as a bigger-than-life character. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and hardly ever declining to another brandy. Whenever our families celebrated, he is the person gossiping about the latest scandal to involve a member of parliament, or amusing us with accounts of the outrageous philandering of assorted players from the local club over the past 40 years.
We would often spend the holiday morning with him and his family, before going our separate ways. Yet, on a particular Christmas, roughly a decade past, when he was planning to join family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, with a glass of whisky in hand, his luggage in the other, and broke his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and told him not to fly. So, here he was back with us, trying to cope, but seeming progressively worse.
The Day Progressed
The morning rolled on but the stories were not coming as they usually were. He was convinced he was OK but his condition seemed to contradict this. He endeavored to climb the stairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
Therefore, before I could even don any celebratory headwear, 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
Upon our arrival, his state had progressed from unwell to almost unconscious. Other outpatients helped us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of hospital food and wind permeated the space.
What was distinct, however, was the mood. One could see valiant efforts at holiday cheer all around, despite the underlying clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on nightstands.
Positive medical attendants, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were moving busily and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.
Heading Home for Leftovers
After our time at the hospital concluded, we returned home to lukewarm condiments and festive TV programming. We viewed something silly on television, likely a mystery drama, and took part in a more foolish pastime, such as a local version of the board game.
The hour was already advanced, and it had begun to snow, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and later developed deep vein thrombosis. And, while that Christmas isn’t a personal favourite, it has entered into our family history 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 has definitely been good for my self-esteem. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
