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 larger than life character. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and not one to say no to another brandy. During family gatherings, he would be the one chatting about the latest scandal to catch up with a member of parliament, or entertaining us with stories of the outrageous philandering of different footballers from Sheffield Wednesday during the last four decades.

Frequently, we would share Christmas morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. Yet, on a particular Christmas, about 10 years ago, when he was planning to join family abroad, he fell down the stairs, holding a drink in one hand, suitcase in the other, and broke his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and told him not to fly. Consequently, he ended up back with us, trying to cope, but seeming progressively worse.

The Day Progressed

The hours went by, however, the anecdotes weren’t flowing in their typical fashion. He was convinced he was OK but he didn’t look it. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but couldn’t; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.

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

The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?

A Worrying Turn

When we finally reached the hospital, he’d gone from peaky to barely responsive. People in the waiting room aided us get him to a ward, where the characteristic scent of hospital food and wind filled the air.

What was distinct, however, was the mood. There were heroic attempts at festive gaiety in every direction, despite the underlying clinical and somber atmosphere; festive strands were attached to medical equipment and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on nightstands.

Cheerful nurses, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were moving busily and using that lovely local expression so unique to the area: “duck”.

A Quiet Journey Back

When visiting hours were over, we made our way home to cold bread sauce and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, likely a mystery drama, and played something even dafter, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.

By then it was quite late, and snowing, and I remember feeling deflated – had we missed Christmas?

The Aftermath and the Story

Even though he ultimately healed, he had actually punctured a lung and later developed deep vein thrombosis. And, although that holiday does not rank among my favorites, it has gone down in family lore 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”.