A TV Doctor Who Travels Into Trouble

MY television series and work with various humanitarian organizations takes me to some of the world’s most remote and hazardous locations.

Dr. Bob Arnot, the host of the television show “Dr. Danger” on Mojo HD, with a policeman on the border of Chad and Darfur.

But some of the riskiest aspects of my job occur in the air, not on the ground.

While shooting the second season of “Dr. Danger,” I flew Emirates Airlines twice a month. Most of the time it was uneventful.

But on one return trip to New York a flight attendant woke me up from a rather deep sleep, asking me if I was a medical doctor. Once she was assured I was indeed a doctor and had not been drinking, she took me to see a fellow passenger who she believed was having a heart attack.

This poor fellow, who was only 38, was hunched in his seat with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He was sweating and holding his chest. I helped him to the rear galley and told him to lie on the floor so I could examine him.

Fortunately, the plane had an electrocardiogram device on board and some nitroglycerin tablets. The electrocardiogram showed a trace of ischemia, but no frank heart attack — yet. I gave the gentleman some nitro and hoped for the best.

I told the captain that if this man’s pain increased or his electrocardiogram showed signs of a heart attack we would have to put down somewhere. “There’s Iran,” the captain said, pointing out the window. Unfortunately, few airports can accommodate the Airbus A340. And I was worried that we could land in a place where medical care might be less than what he was getting on the plane.

I returned to my patient who was showing some signs of improvement. We moved him to first class and continued to monitor him. After conferring with the Emirates medical team on the ground, we agreed to continue the flight.

We landed in New York where paramedics were waiting for us. They took this gentleman to an ambulance. And I never heard from him or the airline again. I wish him well.

In Afghanistan, my crew and I had to take a helicopter flight to Forward Operating Base Ghazni. My cameraman and I sat on the rear platform of the CH-47 helicopter as it skimmed the terrain. A gunner was sitting between us at a machine gun. An Apache gunship was behind us.

It was a beautiful day for flying. But it was interrupted by white hot flares rocketing off the rear of the helicopter, inches from my head. With the camera rolling, we watched what appeared to be the plume of a surface-to-air missile in the distance. Then we saw tracers come up from the ground and our gunner opened up return fire.

On the ground, the scene was sober. A paratrooper had just been killed by an improvised explosive device. We traveled each day in Humvees looking for signs of I.E.D.’s. It was hard not to think about how quickly it would be over if we hit one. It was difficult then, and especially difficult now during this holiday season, to think of the poor paratrooper’s young wife — and the ultimate sacrifice that this soldier made.

By Dr. Bob Arnot, as told to Joan Raymond. E-mail: joan.raymond@nytimes.com

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