Southwest Airlines, flight 1168, Las Vegas to Honolulu, Monday, Aug. 2, 2021. We were almost midway home when one of the flight attendants asked for help. “Is there a doctor or nurse on board?”
She sounded calm, but the urgency in her voice had passengers rubbernecking. I was no different. I glanced behind and attendants were tending to a young woman who was on the ground next to the restroom. She was somewhat alert, but had fainted.
A lady across the aisle said her sister is a nurse, and a woman in a white sweater arrived from the middle section of the plan. The young lady in distress was in and out of consciousness.
Soon, a second nurse appeared. A line and headset was connected for an attendant on board and a doctor who was on the other end. The response was deliberate and orderly. Inside, I began to worry more when they said her blood pressure was 80 over 50.
The nurses kept talking to Shelby. She looked very young. They learned she had experienced a similar fainting two weeks earlier. She’d had breakfast and lunch. And that she’d been having throbbing headaches.
Throbbing. I had a throbbing headache roughly a decade ago on a hot summer day. Eventually I could barely function. A friend drove me to the hospital, where I stayed overnight with an IV tube on my arm. Dehydration. The headache stayed with me through the next day and night. When I checked out and walked to my car in the parking garage, I couldn't complete the walk. I literally had to crawl to the car as my head kept throbbing.
But I wasn’t sure about this emergency on the flight from Las Vegas to Honolulu. For sure, temperatures soared today. After a few days in the 80s and 90s, it was 108 degrees in the afternoon while I was in Henderson. Hot enough to overheat my phone as i walked with a Bishop Gorman football coach by the visitors’ bleachers.
Normally, a field in that kind of heat has water mists and portable fountains along the sideline. I didn’t see many if at all on the Gaels’ field. Even in full gear, they were acclimated to the scorching sun.
In the back of our plane, I could only pray. The nurses and attendants took all consideration. They were able to test Shelby’s blood sugar thanks to a mom in the front of the plane whose diabetic daughter was with her.
Word from the doctor was to begin the IV. Shelby was behind me, laid on the seats that had been off limits. “He said to keep her feet up,” they said.
She had their full attention while concerned passengers peered to the back of the plane. Some minutes went by. The man next to me had prayed as we took off from Vegas, making the sign of the cross. Now, he was praying again, silently. So was I.
“110 over 80,” one of the nurses said.
Thank you, Lord. I wasn’t the only one exhaling a good, deep breath. They kept her on IV, and slowly she got better. Talking. even thanking the nurses and attendants.
“I’m gonna write all your names down. You all deserve raises,” she said.
Apparently. Shelby, a senior in high school, has a sense of humor. I almost laughed. I almost cried. Hearing her voice, feeling grateful that two nurses were on board, we all applauded when an attendant announced that Shelby was doing better. When she thanked the nurses, the applause sustained.
Shelby is still behind me. I’ve seen her face only once, when she was on the ground. She’s resting, sleeping now. The nurses are still checking on her. The lights are low once again.
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