Intercontinental Incident

It must have been fall 2006, we had spent our vacation in the Pacific Northwest, the highlight being our whale watching tour on Vancouver Island.

 And of course meeting up with friends in the Seattle area.

Nobody likes the end of a good time. Packing up and getting to the airport has been causing trouble on several occasions. This time, however, things went smoothly. This should have tipped me off. Something was brewing, and soon enough we were going to find out what it was.

Check-in, passport control, security, everything went well. 

We arrived at the gate early enough to find two seats next to each other, and we spent the time reading and watching the other passengers. As always, even if we managed to never run into fellow Swiss people for two weeks, the airport is the place you can't avoid hearing Swiss German. It's only natural on a flight from Vancouver International Airport to Zurich, Switzerland.

Why do people think it's OK to arrive at the gate with a trolley, a laptop case, a large leather bag, a purse, a pillow and two shopping bags? Which part of "one carry-on and one personal item" do they not understand? They're taking up other people's overhead bin space! Inconsiderate folks.

There was a young couple with a baby. Here's to hoping the little one was going to sleep during most of the flight. It seems to me that in an airplane that holds about 200 passengers, the screaming children always sit in the row in front or behind me.

Oh! This guy! 

If I have a choice between a dozen crying babies and this guy, I'll pick the kids!

This guy was taking a seat, actually two seats, about 10 yards away, and even though there were other people between us, I could smell him. Cigarette smoke and old sweat. Very unpleasant. He was overweight and looked very unkempt. His hair and his clothes, both needed a good wash, preferably before boarding an eleven hours' flight.

Please, please, have him sit far away from us! Please?

My pleas had been answered.

Upon boarding, I noticed we were sitting close to the baby but considerably far away from the ugly guy. I was OK with that. The baby managed to remain calm during take-off. Good kid!

Beverages, check.

Chicken or pasta, check.

Soon enough the lights went out, and people who were hoping to catch some sleep, put on their eye masks and snuggled into their woolen blankets.

Others kept watching movies or reading a book.

Either way, it was pleasantly quiet. 

I had almost dozed off when a constant coughing from far back began. It wasn't just your average cough, it sounded more like the person (a man) was close to vomiting. It sounded unappetizing, repulsive even.

After a few minutes I couldn't help but try to spy who it was. 

Surprise! The ugly guy. What did he do, eat his cigarettes?

His row neighbors must have called for the flight attendant. It didn't take long, and she called for her teammates. Several crew members were rushing back and forth, until one grabbed the intercom and said:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may we ask that any doctor who may be among our esteemed passsengers please come forward, we have a medical emergency and need your assistance."

Nobody got up.

Another announcement:

"Once again, please, if you're a doctor, please make yourself known. A fellow passenger is not doing well. Please help!"

Nobody got up. The cough did not subside.

They helped the guy to get up from his seat(s) - he occupied two of them - and lie down on the floor in his aisle. 

This time the captain spoke to us:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have 200+ passengers on board. Statistically there must be up to three physicians. Please help a fellow passenger out. He's in distress. As a precautionary measure we're requesting landing permission as we approach Iceland. Thank you for your cooperation."

Nobody got up.

Another announcement, again, by the maître de cabine:

"It looks like there's in fact no doctor on board. Do we have any other medical personnel, please? Nurses, physician assistants, medical students, ANYBODY?"

A lady not far from our row got up, and I could tell she was shaking. 

She made her way to the patient, and I don't know what she did, but soon after, the coughing stopped. Oh my goodness. Either he was dead, or she saved him!

Another announcment:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, for the time being, our patient is stable. May we ask any passenger from First or Business Class to make their seat available. Of course your costs will be refunded."

Nobody made themselves known. 

The cabin crew had to actively hustle for a comfortable seat for the guy. Finally they accompanied him to his new row.

The lady who had helped him, returned to her own seat. Now we're Swiss, and we don't think it's appropriate to ask her questions, so everybody respected her privacy.

Later, a flight attendant approached the lady with a bottle of champagne and thanked her profusely. 

"I'm pretty sure there was a physician on board, but given the insurance and liability issues that may follow in the event of a fatal outcome, people don't want to risk their career. You're a hero, I can't thank you enough!"

As we were approaching Zurich, we were asked to remain seated as the patient needed to get off the plane first. 

We are never among the flight guests who rush to the exit as soon as  (or even before) the seat belt sign gets turned off. We tell ourselves we'll all meet again at baggage claim, so unless you need to pee, there's no reason to hurry.

So we were actually almost the last ones to exit, and whom did we spot at the end of the finger dock, sitting in a wheelchair, smiling happily?

The ugly guy.

"I insisted that I be taken to the smoking lounge before being shipped to the ambulance. Geez, it's hard enough not to be allowed to smoke during the entire flight. They have to give me my two minutes."

So how are you feeling?

We asked, pretty stunned. 

"Oh, you know, this wasn't my first rodeo. I always survive. Not to worry."

OK, let me get this straight. 

A person who has had several cardiac incidents, boards a long-haul flight, terrifies 200 passengers plus an entire cabin crew, a first class passenger has to give him their seat, a probably untrained but courageous former physician's assistant saves his sorry a**, and his only concern is to smoke his next cigarette?

Wow.

Just wow.

Have you ever experienced a medical emergency during a flight? Was there a doctor available?