24 Hours in A&E

94-year-old Douglas is a highly decorated Second World War veteran who served in an elite commando unit. He’s been brought in to A&E by his youngest daughter Sylvie because his breathing has deteriorated. Sylvie, who’s an amputee herself, has been his full-time carer for the last twenty years. Douglas has four children, seventeen grandchildren, nineteen great grandchildren and a cheeky sense of humour. “He’d do silly things,” says Sylvie. “We couldn’t go on holiday, we didn’t have the money for that, so he’d take us on a long bus ride and we’d literally be going round in circles. But we really thought we’d been on a good trip!” Sylvie’s sister agrees: “Dad’s a very brave man and, as they get older, they go to the garden party at Buckingham Palace. He had a good old conversation with the Princess Royal when he went and I just think to myself ‘Oh gosh, I hope he didn’t tell her any jokes!’.” Laura, the nurse in charge of Resus today, is looking after Douglas as well as another nonagenarian, Hector. The 97-year-old has been brought in by ambulance with life-threatening problems - his airway is in danger of collapsing and his blood pressure is dangerously high. Hector is on his own and keeps asking for his grandson, Glen – his only living relative. “He reckons that the key to long life was to live a decent life and make sure you eat your porridge,” says Glen. “If my sons are half the man he was I’d still be happy.” Meanwhile 69-year-old Steve has fallen off a chair and fractured his shoulder. He worked as a plumber until four years ago, when he was hit by a motorbike while crossing the road. “The accident took everything away from him. He’s only a shell of the man he used to be. On top of that he’s got dementia,” says his partner Una. But she still remembers the good times. “He used to dress really well, he stood out. He was a right old charmer – charm the birds off the trees, he would.” Nurse Laura takes just as much care of patients at the end of life as she does those at the beginning. “There is a massive spectrum in the way you can die. It can be very peaceful and comfortable. I think that’s the nicest way you can go - and that’s very difficult to recreate in an A&E department.”