Feb 25, 2022 3 min read

We were cruising above the clouds, six miles up when it happened.

An elderly gentleman two rows in front of me stood in the aisle and said, to nobody and everyone at once, that he needed help.

“He’s claustrophobic and can’t breathe,” said a young man who stood up next to him. “Can somebody help?”

The man was in trouble – the kind of trouble that’s best relieved by getting out of the tight space and into the fresh open air. But as we hurtled through space in a tin can, that was not going to happen.

Like yawns in church, anxiety and panic are contagious. Watching flight attendants scurry up the aisle toward the passenger, I felt the familiar tightening inside my chest. I, too, can feel anxious in tight spaces, and a middle seat in a crowded airplane is as tight as it gets.

I thought about the tiny pill in the zippered pouch in my handbag, the single Xanax left over from a medical procedure years ago. I’d brought it along just in case I needed it on the flight. As the pilot called for any “trained medical professionals” to step forward, I reached for my bag to get the pill-but not for me, for him. Would the flight attendants allow me to offer it to the passenger?

Probably not.

Two women raced to his side. Were they nurses? Doctors? They calmed the man as a flight attendant brought an oxygen tank and blood pressure cuff. Passengers poked their heads into the aisle to listen as the drama unfolded. That felt intrusive, so I put in my earphones and listened to music. Calming music.

For the rest of the flight, the passenger had helpers around him. I thought about the other kind of drama so common on flights during the pandemic – the hundreds of reported incidents in which drunk and obnoxious passengers attack flight attendants and each other over mask mandates. The crisis on my flight was the opposite of that.

Can there be anything more frightening or helpless than having a physical or mental health crisis on an airplane? That elderly gentlemen was trapped in his panic, and I could relate. I once was trapped on an elevator for five heart-pounding minutes. It felt like five hours.

A recent study estimates about 14% of American workers are health care professionals. Apply that statistic to a plane carrying 150 passengers and there’s a decent chance there will be a doctor or nurse on board. The two women who stepped forward may not have had to save the man’s life, but they saved the day for him and for the rest of us. The flight landed on time. When we got to the gate, paramedics were waiting to board.

After a few minutes, the patient stood up and, with help, walked off the plane. The rest of us clapped and cheered for him. As the flight attendants and the helpers walked down the aisle behind him, we all cheered for them, too, through our masks.

Air travel is not all bad, and most people are good. That poor guy’s terrifying moment was made easier because the flight attendants were trained, and because those two strangers were willing to help.

As I stepped off the jetway into the airport, I saw the man was sitting there, surrounded by family. I hope he went on to have a good and sunny vacation. I knew I would.