I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious during the journey.

Our family friend has always been a bigger-than-life figure. Witty, unsentimental – and hardly ever declining to another brandy. At family parties, he’s the one discussing the latest scandal to befall a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players over the past 40 years.

We would often spend Christmas morning with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. However, one holiday season, some ten years back, when he was planning to join family abroad, he fell down the stairs, with a glass of whisky in hand, a suitcase gripped in the other, and sustained broken ribs. The hospital had patched him up and instructed him to avoid flying. Consequently, he ended up back with us, making the best of it, but looking increasingly peaky.

As Time Passed

The morning rolled on but the humorous tales were absent in their typical fashion. He insisted he was fine but he didn’t look it. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.

So, before I’d so much as put on a festive hat, my mum and I decided to take him to A&E.

We considered summoning an ambulance, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?

A Deteriorating Condition

When we finally reached the hospital, his state had progressed from peaky to barely responsive. Fellow patients assisted us get him to a ward, where the characteristic scent of clinical cuisine and atmosphere was noticeable.

What was distinct, however, was the mood. There were heroic attempts at holiday cheer all around, notwithstanding the fundamental sterile and miserable mood; 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 bustling about and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.

A Subdued Return Home

Once the permitted time ended, we headed home to lukewarm condiments and Christmas telly. We saw a lighthearted program on television, likely a mystery drama, and played something even dafter, such as a local version of the board game.

By then it was quite late, and snowing, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday?

Healing and Reflection

Although our friend eventually recovered, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and later developed deep vein thrombosis. And, while that Christmas is not my most cherished memory, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.

If that is completely accurate, or involves a degree of exaggeration, I am not in a position to judge, but the story’s yearly repetition 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”.