🔗 Share this article I Drove a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way. This individual has long been known as a larger than life character. Sharp and not prone to sentiment – and hardly ever declining to a further glass. At family parties, he would be the one discussing the newest uproar to befall a regional politician, or regaling us with tales of the outrageous philandering of assorted players from the local club over the past 40 years. We would often spend Christmas morning with him and his family, then departing for our own celebrations. But, one Christmas, about 10 years ago, when he was planning to join family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, whisky in one hand, his luggage in the other, and fractured his ribs. Medical staff had treated him and instructed him to avoid flying. So, here he was back with us, doing his best to manage, but appearing more and more unwell. As Time Passed The hours went by, however, the stories were not coming like they normally did. 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, cautiously, 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. We thought about calling an ambulance, but how long would that take on Christmas Day? A Deteriorating Condition Upon our arrival, he’d gone from poorly to hardly aware. Fellow patients assisted us guide him to a ward, where the distinctive odor of hospital food and wind permeated the space. The atmosphere, however, was unique. People were making brave attempts at festive gaiety all around, even with the pervasive sterile and miserable mood; festive strands were attached to medical equipment and portions of holiday pudding went cold on nightstands. Positive medical attendants, who no doubt would far rather have been at home, were moving busily and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”. Heading Home for Leftovers When visiting hours were over, we made our way home to lukewarm condiments and Christmas telly. We viewed something silly on television, perhaps a detective story, and engaged in an even sillier game, such as a regionally-themed property trading game. The hour was already advanced, and snowing, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday? Healing and Reflection Even though he ultimately healed, he had actually punctured a lung and subsequently contracted a serious circulatory condition. And, although that holiday does not rank among my favorites, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”. If that is completely accurate, or a little bit of dramatic licence, I couldn’t possibly comment, but its annual retelling has done no damage to my pride. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.