The in-flight heart attack of a United Airlines pilot in late September brought up two issues that surprised me—a plane has no space to handle a medical emergency, and staff still asks for help from doctors on board.
My own experience seems insignificant in comparison. With three hours remaining in our transatlantic flight, I doubled over with severe cramps, back pain, sweating and nausea. Food poisoning? Getting to the bathroom was foremost in my mind. The stewardess, absorbed with her food cart, did not understand. Or maybe too many passengers faked an illness in hopes of snaring a better seat for the remainder of the flight and a wheelchair for immigration and customs. Passengers helped me down the stairs to the bathrooms.
No, it wasn’t food poisoning but kidney stones, I later learned. I got through the flight with ice packs and a cold, wet scarf around my neck, while scrunched in my economy seat. My condition was just painful, not fatal, and relatively insignificant when compared with other medical emergencies that occur at 30,000 feet.
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