A few brief select words on Dramamine

You are on a small plane with a well-known political figure. Suddenly, motion sickness takes control of the flight and breakfast is threatened. There is no escape.

What do you do?

If you are a journalist you close your eyes, notebook and pen in hand, wishing you could write.

On Aug. 16, I had the rare opportunity to tour the Columbia Basin with the Republican candidate for governor Dino Rossi. I was the only reporter on board the four-seat plane.

As a child, I flew in a small plane once and I had a feeling I probably became sick on the plane. But that was a long time ago.

"I've been on planes before," I rationalized. "This should be no problem."

I met Grant County Republican Party Chair Tom Dent and Quincy-Columbia Basin Irrigation District Secretary-Manager Darvin Fales, and we drove to the Othello Municipal Airport. We boarded the small plane for Pasco, where Rossi would meet us.

During the 10 to 15 minute flight to Pasco, the sideways feeling of motion sickness set in. We hadn't even reached the start of the tour yet and already I was ill. Things were beginning to look down.

Dent provided tips on how to avoid motion sickness, which I hoped would equip me for the flight with Rossi. What I also hoped would equip me for the flight with Rossi was a dose of Dramamine.

While I tried not to look like a needy reporter (after all, this was a big opportunity), I secretly hoped the small airport would carry the medicine. While the airport did have a selection of sorts, none of them belonged in a medicine cabinet.

So, I resigned myself to a glass of water and trip to the restroom.

When Rossi arrived, I felt my composure return. Yes, I was concerned for the flight and its passengers, but I was confident I could make it through this ordeal.

We boarded the plane. At first, everything went smoothly. I photographed Rossi. I was so concerned about getting a picture my editor would want for the newspaper, I forgot about being sick.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I had to ask questions and take notes as well.

Only two questions into the flight, the nausea returned with a vengeance, no doubt fueled by my note-taking. I began to sweat. My hands felt weak. I saw outside that there was no possibility for an emergency landing.

Living a journalist's worst fear, I found myself on an exclusive flight with a political figure, unable to ask questions or take notes.

What's more, I worried that with my eyes closed and leaning against the window, I looked bored. After the flight, Rossi said when he noticed me sitting in the back with my eyes closed, he thought he might need to dodge the trajectories of my breakfast.

It was an embarrassing flight, to say the least. Luckily, Rossi allowed me to conduct an interview after the flight, so I still made my editor happy and provided coverage of an important election.

Chrystal Doucette is the Columbia Basin Herald's health and education reporter. As she covered for a colleague in covering a political story, she received a lesson to remember for future "health" articles on motion sickness.