🔗 Share this article I Took a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from unwell to barely responsive during the journey. Our family friend has always been a larger than life character. Clever and unemotional – and not one to say no to an extra drink. Whenever our families celebrated, he’s the one chatting about the most recent controversy to befall a local MP, or amusing us with accounts of the shameless infidelity of assorted players from the local club over the past 40 years. We would often spend Christmas morning with him and his family, before going our separate ways. However, one holiday season, about 10 years ago, when he was planning to join family abroad, he took a fall on the steps, whisky in one hand, suitcase in the other, and sustained broken ribs. He was treated at the hospital and told him not to fly. Consequently, he ended up back with us, trying to cope, but looking increasingly peaky. The Day Progressed Time passed, yet the anecdotes weren’t flowing as they usually were. He was convinced he was OK but his appearance suggested otherwise. He tried to make it upstairs for a nap but was unable to; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed. Thus, prior to me managing to placed a party hat on my head, we resolved to drive him to the emergency room. The idea of calling for an ambulance crossed our minds, but what would the wait time be on Christmas Day? A Rapid Decline Upon our arrival, he had moved from being poorly to hardly aware. People in the waiting room aided us help him reach a treatment area, where the generic smell of institutional meals and air was noticeable. The atmosphere, however, was unique. One could see valiant efforts at Christmas spirit everywhere you looked, notwithstanding the fundamental clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and bowls of Christmas pudding congealed on tables next to the beds. Upbeat nursing staff, who no doubt would far rather have been at home, were bustling about and using that lovely local expression so particular to the area: “duck”. Heading Home for Leftovers Once the permitted time ended, we made our way home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We viewed something silly on television, perhaps a detective story, and played something even dafter, such as a local version of the board game. By then it was quite late, and snow was falling, and I remember experiencing a letdown – was Christmas effectively over for us? Healing and Reflection Although our friend eventually recovered, he had actually punctured a lung and subsequently contracted a serious circulatory condition. And, although that holiday is not my most cherished memory, it has become part of family legend as “the Christmas I saved a life”. Whether that’s strictly true, or contains some artistic license, I am not in a position to judge, but hearing it told each year 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”.