I Took a Family Friend to the Emergency Room – and he went from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way.
This individual has long been known as a truly outsized personality. Witty, unsentimental – and not one to say no to another brandy. At family parties, he would be the one gossiping about the latest scandal to befall a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the shameless infidelity of assorted players from the local club over the past 40 years.
It was common for us to pass the holiday morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. However, one holiday season, some ten years back, when he was scheduled to meet family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, holding a drink 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 seeming progressively worse.
As Time Passed
The hours went by, however, the anecdotes weren’t flowing like they normally did. 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, carefully, to eat Christmas lunch, and was unsuccessful.
Thus, prior to me managing to placed a party hat on my head, we resolved to get him to the hospital.
The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but how much of a delay would there be on Christmas Day?
A Deteriorating Condition
By the time we got there, his state had progressed from poorly to hardly aware. Other outpatients helped us get him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of clinical cuisine and atmosphere permeated the space.
Different though, was the spirit. People were making brave attempts at Christmas spirit all around, even with the pervasive depressing and institutional feel; tinsel hung from drip stands and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on tables next to the beds.
Upbeat nursing staff, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were working diligently and using that great term of endearment so peculiar to the area: “duck”.
Heading Home for Leftovers
Once the permitted time ended, we returned home to lukewarm condiments and festive TV programming. We saw a lighthearted program on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as a local version of the board game.
The hour was already advanced, and it had begun to snow, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had in fact suffered a punctured lung and later developed a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas isn’t a personal favourite, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
How factual that statement is, or contains some artistic license, I couldn’t possibly comment, but its annual retelling certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. And, as our friend always says: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
