I Took a Close Friend of the Family to the Emergency Room – and his condition shifted from peaky to barely responsive during the journey.

He has always been a man of a larger than life personality. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and never one to refuse to a further glass. At family parties, he would be the one chatting about the latest scandal to catch up with a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players for forty years.

Frequently, we would share the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, before going our separate ways. Yet, on a particular Christmas, some ten years back, when he was planning to join family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, whisky in one hand, his luggage in the other, and fractured his ribs. He was treated at the hospital and advised against air travel. Thus, he found himself back with us, doing his best to manage, but looking increasingly peaky.

The Morning Rolled On

Time passed, yet the humorous tales were absent as they usually were. He maintained that he felt alright but his condition seemed to contradict this. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.

Thus, prior to me managing to don any celebratory headwear, we resolved to drive him to the emergency room.

We considered summoning an ambulance, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?

A Worrying Turn

Upon our arrival, he’d gone from peaky to barely responsive. Fellow patients assisted us guide him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of institutional meals and air filled the air.

The atmosphere, however, was unique. One could see valiant efforts at festive gaiety everywhere you looked, despite the underlying clinical and somber atmosphere; decorations dangled from IV poles and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on tables next to the beds.

Upbeat nursing staff, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were working diligently and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.

Heading Home for Leftovers

Once the permitted time ended, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and festive TV programming. We saw a lighthearted program on television, probably Agatha Christie, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.

The hour was already advanced, and snow was falling, and I remember having a sense of anticlimax – had we missed Christmas?

Healing and Reflection

Even though he ultimately healed, he had actually punctured a lung and went on to get DVT. And, even if that particular Christmas does not rank among my favorites, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.

Whether that’s strictly true, or contains some artistic license, is not for me to definitively say, but its annual retelling has definitely been good for my self-esteem. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.