I was half-dozing on a Southwestern flight when a stewardess came on the PA system calling for any physician to identify themselves.

I spoke up, and the crew directed me toward the back. They already had this incredible medical kit opened in the aisle. I mean they had everything....ACLS drugs, defibrillator, suction, a complete mini-pharmacy, and what looked like a few plastic-7 wound and/or trauma kits at the least. I mean, I was practically drooling over this high-tech kit.

Of course, it was also at that moment that I started frantically running through cardiac code algorithms in my head, and pondering exactly how long it had been since I'd actually dealt with a code in a hospital, with plenty of trained staff, lab support, etc.

Of course, it wasn't any kind of life-and-death situation at all - a young person very stressed and anxious about relocating and the actual conditions of the flight, who'd been hyperventilating, hadn't eaten or had anything to drink for many hours, near-syncopal, etc etc.

I tried my hardest, but couldn't think of a single thing to use out of the medi-kit. I wanted to use it.

I just sat down next to her and listened, which is 90% of medicine anyway.

Southwest was great - gave me two round-trip tickets to anywhere for taking a few minutes to talk.

A colleague at University of Hawaii wrote a paper about dealing with psychiatric emergencies in the air. One thing that stuck out in the paper was the interesting phenomenon of what he called "honeymoon psychosis", with one of a young newly married couple away from home for the first time, possibly on their first flight, all leading to some interesting disturbances on those long pan-Pacific flights.