Crisis in the air

I was flying across the ocean in a big metal box, quietly dozing in business class by courtesy of accumulated frequent flyer points and one of those wine glasses that automatically refill themselves, when my Oslerian aequanimitas was rudely shattered by a voice over the loudspeaker calling for a doctor.

Making my way through countless cabins of fellow travellers sleeping in various distorted positions, I reached a small lounge at the back of the plane bustling with agitated people, …