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I Drove a Family Friend to A&E – and he went from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way.
Our family friend has always been a larger than life personality. Clever and unemotional – and not one to say no to an extra drink. During family gatherings, he would be the one discussing the latest scandal to befall a local MP, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players for forty years.
It was common for us to pass the holiday morning with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. However, one holiday season, roughly a decade past, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, holding a drink in one hand, his luggage in the other, and fractured his ribs. The hospital had patched him up and told him not to fly. So, here he was back with us, making the best of it, but looking increasingly peaky.
The Day Progressed
The hours went by, however, the humorous tales were absent like they normally did. He insisted he was fine but his appearance suggested otherwise. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, carefully, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.
Thus, prior to me managing to put on a festive hat, we resolved to drive him to the emergency room.
We thought about calling an ambulance, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
Upon our arrival, he had moved from being peaky to barely responsive. People in the waiting room aided us help him reach a treatment area, where the characteristic scent of hospital food and wind filled the air.
The atmosphere, however, was unique. One could see valiant efforts at holiday cheer everywhere you looked, despite the underlying sterile and miserable mood; festive strands were attached to medical equipment and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on tables next to the beds.
Cheerful nurses, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were bustling about and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”.
Heading Home for Leftovers
Once the permitted time ended, we made our way home to cold bread sauce and festive TV programming. 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.
It was already late, and it had begun to snow, and I remember experiencing a letdown – did we lose the holiday?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and went on to get deep vein thrombosis. And, although that holiday isn’t a personal favourite, 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 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”.
Carl Goodwin
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