I love all things British.

That includes TV series, movies, the late awesome Queen Elizabeth and Maggie Smith, and the entertaining historian Lucy Worsley.

So, when my husband booked a Cunard cruise, the British shipping and cruise line, on the Queen Mary 2, to Quebec City and back, it was woo! hoo! Here I come!

We left out of the Red Hook, Brooklyn, port. The Queen Mary 2 is big—2,600 people—and while we were used to river boats, this was a change. (I did get lost a lot.)

But it was 12 days of interesting conversations from people all over the world, like the archeologist in the ship’s beautiful library who was talking to a couple about King Richard III’s burial ground. I asked to join in and pointed out the movie “The Lost King,” about Philippa Langley, who initiated the search for his grave (amazingly, under a car parking space labeled “R”). Our waitress from Romania with a law degree spoke five languages. When jobs were scarce, she signed on with Cunard for her position; she would travel, meet people, then eventually relocate to Australia. My manicurist from Mumbai was very grateful for his position. We had lively discussions with a lot of British folks, two couples we ate with a couple of nights, one from Tennessee, one from New Jersey. It kind of went on from there.

The Champagne Bar was a delight, with a pianist, Emmanuel Vass, who played lovely songs including Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”; a German woman looked over at me at that one and we nodded.

We caught a Maggie Smith movie, “The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie,” in one of the gorgeous auditoriums, and finally got a three-hour tour of Quebec City and its neighboring island with our great tour guide Remy, as well as a stop in Halifax.

Bless the ship for traveling 10 knots along whale routes—a federal law. There were tours available and lots of entertainment, with several restaurants you could dine at as well as lectures by female astronauts and historians, and there were several lovely ports we stopped at, including Halifax. But I read a lot on this trip—two and a half books, exactly—between walks around the deck.

And that’s because before Quebec City, after a few days of feeling ill with blood tests and meds, I had to be wheeled off the ship to a local hospital in Sept-Iles, Canada, for a CAT scan as the ship’s doctor was concerned when my stats became somewhat elevated. If I didn’t get an okay from the hospital to return, we would have to haul all our luggage with us to a bus or train to Quebec City and take a plane back.

Mon deux!

Medical staff to the port master couldn’t have been kinder. One medic who took my arm was from St. Andrews, Scotland, and I told him about my Celtic trip to his country. Then it was down a gangplank in a wheelchair (I wanted to walk; they wouldn’t let me) to a waiting ambulance for a short trip to the hospital.

My nice ambulance driver stayed with me, speaking French to the triage nurse. The front-desk attendant was very sweet and got me in quickly. Talk about calm and clean! I read a good book and looked out the window at trees, praying the doc would give me the okay to return to the ship. He did.

He found a small kidney stone close to exiting; meds were prescribed, a cab was called, my lovely ambulance driver and her colleague met us out front to cheer us on later, and we made it back to the ship with an hour to spare.

I’m glad for the cruise experience, even with the hospital visit. Cunard does a great job, the hospital was a happy revelation, and there is a lot we will remember.

Only next time, no health drama.