I Took a Close Friend of the Family to the Emergency Room – and he went from unwell to barely responsive on the way.

Our family friend has always been a larger than life figure. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and not one to say no to a further glass. During family gatherings, he would be the one gossiping about the newest uproar to involve a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the notorious womanizing of various Sheffield Wednesday players over the past 40 years.

It was common for us to pass the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. However, one holiday season, some ten years back, when he was supposed to be meeting family abroad, he fell down the stairs, whisky in one hand, suitcase in the other, and fractured his ribs. The hospital had patched him up and instructed him to avoid flying. So, here he was back with us, trying to cope, but appearing more and more unwell.

The Day Progressed

The hours went by, however, the humorous tales were absent as they usually were. He was convinced he was OK but he didn’t look it. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.

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

We thought about calling an ambulance, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?

A Rapid Decline

When we finally reached the hospital, he’d gone from poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us get him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of institutional meals and air filled the air.

The atmosphere, however, was unique. People were making brave attempts at Christmas spirit in every direction, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on nightstands.

Upbeat nursing staff, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were bustling about and using that great term of endearment so particular to the area: “duck”.

Heading Home for Leftovers

After our time at the hospital concluded, we headed home to chilled holiday sides and festive TV programming. We saw a lighthearted program on television, likely a mystery drama, and played something even dafter, such as Sheffield’s take on Monopoly.

It was already late, and it had begun to snow, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday?

Recovery and Retrospection

While our friend did get better in time, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and went on to get DVT. And, while that Christmas is not my most cherished memory, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.

How factual that statement is, or involves a degree of exaggeration, is not for me to definitively say, but the story’s yearly repetition certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. True to his favorite phrase: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.