My outlook at the Beltway Apartment in The Netherlands for the next couple of days until my wheelchair arrives. :>{
TSA Houston ( less than 24 hours ago)
"Mam, can you walk through this body scanner?"
" Well, yes, with my wooden crutches you just scanned. But it may take me over five minutes to get through there, though. I am really not supposed to put my full weight on my broken foot."
That was the beginning of a frisking that beats all frisking/pat downs.
The young gentleman pushing my United Airlines provided wheelchair was then directed to push me to a glass gate and wait.
A kind young lady with an obviously distracting foreign object in her eye directed my "chauffeur" to an area at the end of the scanning machines. Then she speedily told me the " touchy/ feely" maneuvers she was about to perform on me. She mentioned that we could do this privately, but I said to just go right ahead and do what she had to do. I haven't had such a "massage" as this, ever. Arms, back, waist (feeling inside the waistband of my jeans), under the breasts, under the buttocks,legs, inner thighs, and feet.
Okaaaay!!!
Then she scanned my regular shoe and my correction boot and finally tested them for "dust," I guess. She even "dusted" the armrests of the wheelchair.
The amount of time this investigation took, I could have crawled through the body scanner on all fours! And maybe that would have been less humiliating.
The one place I could have hidden something was the correction boot. That hideous, huge black plastic thing could have been full of whatever they were searching for.
But it only concealed my sore, broken foot!
And she never even asked to see that!