I Drove a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and he went from peaky to barely responsive during the journey.
This individual has long been known as a truly outsized figure. Clever and unemotional – and hardly ever declining to an extra drink. Whenever our families celebrated, he’s the one gossiping about the most recent controversy to involve a regional politician, or amusing us with accounts of the outrageous philandering of assorted players from the local club during the last four decades.
We would often spend the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. However, one holiday season, about 10 years ago, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, holding a drink in one hand, suitcase in the other, and fractured his ribs. The hospital had patched him up and told him not to fly. Thus, he found himself back with us, making the best of it, but appearing more and more unwell.
As Time Passed
Time passed, yet the humorous tales were absent like they normally did. He maintained that he felt alright but his appearance suggested otherwise. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, carefully, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.
So, before I’d so much as put on a festive hat, we resolved to take him to A&E.
We considered summoning an ambulance, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
By the time we got there, he had moved from being unwell to almost unconscious. Other outpatients helped us guide him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of hospital food and wind was noticeable.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. One could see valiant efforts at holiday cheer in every direction, even with the pervasive sterile and miserable mood; tinsel hung from drip stands and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on bedside tables.
Upbeat nursing staff, who no doubt would far rather have been at home, were working diligently and using that lovely local expression so particular to the area: “duck”.
A Quiet Journey Back
Once the permitted time ended, we made our way home to cold bread sauce and Christmas telly. 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.
By then it was quite late, and snowing, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday?
Recovery and Retrospection
Even though he ultimately healed, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and subsequently contracted DVT. And, although that holiday does not rank among my favorites, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
If that is completely accurate, or contains some artistic license, I am not in a position to judge, but the story’s yearly repetition has definitely been good for my self-esteem. True to his favorite phrase: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
