A Lot Can Happen Between Here and There

We were about half way between here and there, maybe 60 minutes outside of Baltimore flying to West Palm Beach. The flight attendant calmly asked for a doctor or medical person. Chimes dinged in a couple spots. I cranked my neck around to see what was happening.
Seems there was a woman in distress two rows back and across the aisle.
A young woman across the aisle from me, without hesitation, climbs over the two people next to her and gets to the woman in distress about the same time as another young woman from the back of the plane. Turns out the first is a nurse, an EMT, and the second a doctor.
In a case of life-imitating-art (at least what passes for art on television), or maybe it’s the other way around, the doctor had caught my eye while waiting on line for the flight. I think she had captured just about everyone’s eye. About 5’ 10”, blond and fresh off the pages of some fashion magazine. Now she looked like a new character for ER. (Sexist! ((Who said that?)))
The crew of the Southwest flight 881 is incredibly efficient. While a couple of the attendants work to get the aisle clear and the doc to the patient, another opens the first overhead bin and plugs in a special headset to talk with … ? Well, talk with someone, probably the pilot. She also has a diagramed yellow sheet with instructions and procedures to be followed. She gives a running commentary to someone, and now I have the feeling it’s someone with medical experience since she seems to be answering questions.
The doc is making a quick assessment. The nurse helping as they talk things through. The woman in distress is getting more so. The doc tells the flight crew to get the defibrillator handy. Just get it out. And she also says something with her eyes that I can’t understand.
Out comes the red bag and cords.
The doc calls for some orange juice as she tries to communicate with the patient. She doesn’t seem to be giving the doc the answers the doc wants.
Doc calls for oxygen and it’s there faster than I can type the word.
More orange juice. Aspirin? Aspirin.
More oxygen.
Patient’s looking better, but the doc wants everyone to hold their places.
A decision is made to move the woman up a half dozen rows to the front bulkhead seats. More space for the doc to work on her.
Looking better by the minute the doc says. Nurse and doc sit with her and comfort her. Lots of elderly people on this flight paying close attention.
These airplane people are good! No panic. The crew acts like it’s an everyday occurrence. I’ve been flying for 45 years and it’s the first time I’ve seen this.
Crew member writes down how much oxygen was consumed.
Smiles all ‘round. What looks like an exchange of names and addresses is going on! Lots of conversation, like they’re talking with a groggy prizefighter.
Doc stands to let the attendant climb on the seat and put the oxygen bottle back in its cradle. Doc flashes a killer smile to the guy who got on the plane with her.
He returns a knowing smile. Damned proud of you, he’s thinking. All in a day’s work, her eyes say.
Situation under control.
Then the grumbling about slow service starts. And just when I thought the human race might be worth saving …