I FEEL SO VIOLATED. I AM LIVING ON THE EDGE OF A PANIC ATTACK. I AM SO AFRAID. I WILL NEVER GET NEAR AN AIRPORT AGAIN. PLEASE PRAY FOR ME.

I so need to feel your prayers as I struggle to take back my heart, soul, and mind because I feel like I am at the bottom of the heap right now.

As you may know, I just spent a week “Writing at the Red House” with Kathi Lipp, three fabulous teachers, and six other awesome women writers. We were so well fed, loved on, taught amazing writing tips and groomed to be social media baby gurus. I left our mountain retreat so encouraged and enthusiastic to finish writing my memoir: BONKED! Life, Love, and Laughter with Traumatic Brain Injury.

Life was so wonderful as God propelled me along his chosen path to share experiences, encourage hearts, and teach coping strategies to the TBI/PTSD Community and others struggling through life. 

At the Sacramento Airport, I rode in a wheelchair, due to my fused neck pain, up to the TSA checkpoint. I got out of the wheelchair, unloaded my iPad and brand new Mac Pro laptop, quart bag of liquids, snacks, shoes, jacket, backpack, and small carry-on. Next, I walked through the metal detector after raising my arms, and then was patted down on my shoulders. NO set-off of any alarms as the lady motioned me to continue walking to pick up my stuff. Great! I was done with TSA. 

Immediately, two women TSA officers approached me and informed me they were EACH going to do a 5-minute complete body pat-down by touching all over my body, breasts, groin area, and put their hands down my pants around the waistband. They moved forward to do these “2  
intimate pat-downs” in front of all the passing passengers and TSA Personnel. They did not tell me why.

Surprised and scared (remember I live with TBI and PTSD), I requested them to take me to a private room for the pat-downs. They did not like that, but took me off to room where they left the door open, made me spread my legs open, touched me very slowly all over my body, while three men looked on in the doorway, the two young men pushing the wheelchair, and a TSA officer.

After the first exam, I was shaking, crying, and told them I was a TBI Survivor. I asked them why they were doing this?? The male supervisor said they detected explosive residue on the wheelchair. They never detected anything on me. They did not acknowledge what I said. All with “stone faces”, the other woman did another complete, intimate “pat-down” for 5 minutes. I again told them I was a TBI survivor. No answer back. 

Traumatized, shaking, crying in the room, one of the wheelchair assistants asked if I wanted to speak with a supervisor. I said yes, and asked him why I needed to be examined two times if the explosive residue was not found on me. He yelled back “You are being rude to my staff”, and then asked what he could do for me. I said nothing. Then everyone left the room except the two wheelchair assistants who tried to comfort me, gathered up my belongings strewn on a corner table, and wheeled me to the Alaska Airlines gate with only 15 minutes to spare before take-off. I sat in the chair sobbing and shaking with my head down. Embarrassed and traumatized. They assisted me by buying a turkey sandwich while the other filled my water bottle. So kind and considerate-Angels from God. ?

My new friend and “angel”- a writing retreat peep, Kelly, had been waiting for me as both were on the flight to Seattle. Immediately aware of my state of mind, she requested the seat next to me, and the Alaska Airlines Flight attendants took care of it all-no questions asked.

The aftermath of the incident: I filed a report with Alaska Airlines-kudos to flight attendants and wheelchair assistants. Informed them I will not fly again. We always fly Alaska.

I canceled our flight to California to visit our children and grandchildren. I filed a report with TSA. I visited my pastor. I asked to be showered with prayers. Cliff is looking for a trauma specialist therapist. I am crying, sleeping, curling up under a blanket, eating healthy foods, watching TV. I can’t even read from my pile of books.

I reached down to the bottom of my feet and heart to tell you my TSA story. Beware when you go through the TSA line. Be prepared as you may be the next one.

Cliff and I are now converted Amtrak train travelers. Well, at least I am. Blessings. ??