Airplanes and Food Poisoning

I had almost drifted to sleep when I heard across the loudspeaker, “We're sorry to bother you. There's a medical emergency on the flight. We are asking any doctors or nurses to come to the back of the plane.” I hadn't expected to go into training so soon.

I followed an ENT doctor down the narrow isle of the flight, where we stopped by an elderly man and his wife. He was perfusly sweating and had vomit down the front of his white collard shirt, yet his face was surprisingly calm. His wife explained - this was the second time he had vomited  and he didn't usually have sickness on flights. He had been feeling nauseas for a while.

On assessment, the man was oriented to name, place and person, and his pulse and respirations were in regular rate and rythmn. He had no allergies and not much of a past medical history. He was currently on no medications, was no longer feeling nauseas, and he had no dizziness or headache. His pupillary reactions were equal and his when tested, his sensory motor was in place.

“What and when did you last eat?”

“We had fish two hours ago”

“Fish?” The only meals that had been served on the flight were chicken and pasta. The doctor and I looked at eachother, confused, and turned back to him.

“Fish? On this flight?” At that point, the flight attendant spoke up and said yes, they had received fish upon special request.

“I had it too.” His wife chimed in. “I'm feeling a little queezy myself.”

I had an immediate rendez-vous of an old film called “Airplanes”. I didn't think it was a real-life story.

Thankfully, the wife's feelings of sickness never progressed and the elderly gentlemen was feeling better by the time we disembarked in Amsterdam. Upon boarding my next flight to Entebbe, I'd been bumped to a comfort class, with more leg room than I could use.

“Are you Maranatha - the one who helped the elderly gentlemen on our last flight?”. (We'd done nothing but ask a few questions and it was more the ENT than myself).

“Yes...a little”.

“And here is why I have moved you up! Enjoy!” The flight worker smiled and moved on down the aisle.

I was really grateful for the seat – and the potential of extra sleep. With Entebbe eight hours away, I dozed off.

So much leg room! :)