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| Barb Polan Barb's Recovery |
We - my husband, daughter and I - are going to California (Santa Monica) to visit our son and his fiancee for Christmas. Another trip through security holding my left hand as far as my right hand can raise it in the Xray machine; having my entire body (all my clothing, really) and electronic gear swabbed and tested for explosives; giving up my cane to walk through the metal detector; standing on a two-foot square for a search. On our last flight,a security person chided me for leaving a tissue in my back pocket that was revealed by the search even though she had TOLD me to empty my pockets; I pulled it out and handed it to her, and she went to get a trash can, watching me the whole time. Seriously? What was I going to do with a used tissue if she turned her back to me? I can understand why she didn't want to touch it, but watching me while she walked sideways to get the can and carry it to me? What happened to profiling? I am doing something a little differently this time, compared to our last flight (to Boulder): I am going to cooperate with my husband and use a WHEELCHAIR. He always frets because I walk so slowly, but I hate taking the easy way out. My recovery is all about challenging myself, so why wouldn't I walk? To please Tom. He puts up with enough annoyance caused by me; it's the least I can do, I think. And in February, I'm going BY MYSELF to visit a friend who spends the winter in Florida. Tom will accompany me to the airport and ensure I get through security okay, and Lisa will pick me up at the other end. Wheelchairs at both ends; one good thing about wheelchairs at the airport is that they come with a driver, someone to push and steer, and knows what line to go to. In fact, when Tom once took over for a driver at Logan, he had to go through a 50-point check before I was handed over. I am afraid to travel by air all alone. I know I'll be well taken care of, but I'm still nervous about it.
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