I Took a Family Friend to the Emergency Room – and he went from unwell to scarcely conscious on the way.

This individual has long been known as a bigger-than-life personality. Clever and unemotional – and not one to say no to a further glass. During family gatherings, he’s the one discussing the most recent controversy to befall a local MP, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of various Sheffield Wednesday players during the last four decades.

We would often spend 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 tumbled down the staircase, holding a drink in one hand, suitcase in the other, and sustained broken ribs. The hospital had patched him up and advised against air travel. Thus, he found himself back with us, making the best of it, but appearing more and more unwell.

The Day Progressed

The morning rolled on but 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, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and did not manage.

Thus, prior to me managing to put on a festive hat, my mum and I decided to take him to A&E.

We considered summoning an ambulance, but what would the wait time be on Christmas Day?

A Worrying Turn

When we finally reached the hospital, he’d gone from unwell to almost unconscious. Other outpatients helped us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of institutional meals and air permeated the space.

The atmosphere, however, was unique. There were heroic attempts at holiday cheer all around, notwithstanding the fundamental clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and portions of holiday pudding went cold on bedside tables.

Cheerful nurses, who no doubt would far rather have been at home, were working diligently and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”.

Heading Home for Leftovers

Once the permitted time ended, we returned home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We watched something daft on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.

It was already late, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – did we lose the holiday?

Healing and Reflection

Even though he ultimately healed, he had actually punctured a lung and later developed deep vein thrombosis. And, even if that particular Christmas is not my most cherished memory, it has gone down in family lore as “the Christmas I saved a life”.

Whether that’s strictly true, or a little bit of dramatic licence, I am not in a position to judge, but hearing it told each year has done no damage to my pride. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.