🔗 Share this article I Took a Close Friend of the Family to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious during the journey. He has always been a man of a truly outsized personality. Witty, unsentimental – and hardly ever declining to a further glass. During family gatherings, he’s the one chatting about the newest uproar to involve a local MP, or entertaining us with stories of the outrageous philandering of different footballers from Sheffield Wednesday during the last four decades. We would often spend the holiday morning with him and his family, prior to heading off to our own plans. However, one holiday season, roughly a decade past, when he was planning to join family abroad, he tumbled down the staircase, whisky in one hand, a suitcase gripped in the other, and sustained broken ribs. The hospital had patched him up and instructed him to avoid flying. Thus, he found himself 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 insisted he was fine but his appearance suggested otherwise. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, cautiously, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed. Therefore, before I could even 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 Upon our arrival, his state had progressed from peaky to barely responsive. Fellow patients assisted us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of institutional meals and air permeated the space. Different though, was the spirit. People were making brave attempts at holiday cheer in every direction, even with the pervasive clinical and somber atmosphere; decorations dangled from IV poles and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on nightstands. Upbeat nursing staff, who undoubtedly would have preferred to be at home, were moving busily and using that charming colloquial address so unique to the area: “duck”. A Subdued Return Home After our time at the hospital concluded, we made our way home to lukewarm condiments and holiday television. We saw a lighthearted program on television, likely a mystery drama, and took part in a more foolish pastime, such as a regionally-themed property trading game. By then it was quite late, and snow was falling, and I remember feeling deflated – did we lose the holiday? Healing and Reflection While our friend did get better in time, he had actually punctured a lung and subsequently contracted a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas 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 involves a degree of exaggeration, is not for me to definitively say, but hearing it told each year certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.