I recently had a trip to Milan, Italy. My routing was from Salt Lake to Atlanta, and then from Atlanta to Milan.

I was seated in comfort plus on the aisle – a free upgrade with my Platinum status – and it was a pretty non-descriptive flight. Four hours in, though, the cabin suddenly lit up. All the overhead lights snapped on at once. I was still awake (I never sleep on planes) when I noticed movement in the aisles. People were standing, craning their necks, whispering to each other.

When I turned around, I saw someone lying on the floor, surrounded by a small cluster of passengers. I glanced at the flight map—we were somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic. If this guy’s health took a turn, there was nowhere to go.

It was hard to see clearly from my seat since it was happening on the opposite aisle, but after a few tense minutes, someone brought over an oxygen tank. The group stayed huddled there for about twenty minutes before they finally helped the man sit up and walk toward the business-class cabin.

As it turned out, we were on a flight full of nurses and doctors heading to a medical conference in Milan. Apparently, the man had passed out. For a while, it really seemed like we might lose him—there was nowhere to land, and everyone looked anxious.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. About half an hour later, he walked back to his seat.

As we were deplaning, several passengers stopped to thank the nurse who had taken charge. The relief on everyone’s faces was obvious.

It was the first in-flight medical emergency I’ve ever witnessed—and I was grateful it ended the way it did.