I’m being bad. It’s 3:43 in the morning, and yesterday I was awake for twenty-four hours, but the body keeps the time seven hours later.
I am somehow both really sleepyheaded, and very awake.
We had a medical emergency aboard our last flight yesterday. The patient walked past our row to the back of the plane, I supposed to use the bathroom, and I remember thinking that she didn’t look well: something in the gait. A little while later all our in-flight movies were interrupted by a crewmember requesting assistance from any physicians, nurses, or EMTs who might be on the flight. Three or four people, all women, hurried back, suddenly transformed from rumpled passengers in comfortable clothing to alert professionals; one had the window seat next to Mark, so he and Leo had to quickly get out and let her by.
I’d never noticed before, but there is a secret pair of audio jacks overhead of a seat in the middle of the plane—row 24 in this A220-100—which allows the crew to connect a Medical Headset with a very long yellow cord that can go from there all the way to the back. We were in that row, and the flight attendant enlisted Mark’s help in getting it connected since the jack was right over his head. One of the medically trained passengers took it and put it on with the crew’s help before heading back. The crew member followed, draping the cord over the back of Leo’s seat and into the aisle.
I supposed the Medical Headset allowed the passenger attending the patient to speak directly to the flight deck and maybe even to a paramedic team waiting on the ground, but of course I don’t know.
All this happened when according to our in-flight seatback screens, we were about 45 minutes out from arrival. But the pilot announced that he’d been granted landing priority, and we were on the ground only about 15 minutes later. We all remained in our seats while paramedics came on, and shortly after while they helped the patient, who, I was relieved to see, could walk gingerly, move off the plane. When they let us off a few moments later, and we made our way to the gate exit, we saw that she was seated in an airport wheelchair, being attended to, looking frail but alert. So, let’s hope she’ll be all right.
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Simon and I entertained ourselves on the way to baggage claim by thinking of things we’d be glad to have again back in the States. He’d been very happy to find a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos for his layover snack, and now we listed other things: soft pretzels, yellow mustard, baked macaroni and cheese.
Milo met us at the house and helped us carry in our suitcases. It was around 9 pm, and Simon (who is a child of routine) immediately disappeared upstairs and started getting ready for bed. The rest of us stayed up until a normal bedtime of ten-ish, although I slipped upstairs to change out of the clothes I’d been in for so long: what had been at 6 AM France time a soft and comfy cotton jersey knit set and the relaxed sleep bra were now digging sweatily into my flesh. I put on a flowy sleep dress, came down to get a mango LaCroix, and said my good nights.
Not before watering my two plants (in self-watering pots that last 30 days) and setting up a pot of coffee for the morning.
It will brew in one hour. I guess I’ll stay in bed till then.
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