Padded Pat Down-- Courtesy of TSA

Last week I had the opportunity to travel to Columbia, South Carolina. Although I hated to leave Robby, the brief respite from the family stresses was welcome. After one night in the hotel and a successful event, I was feeling refreshed and ready to return home. Only one thing stood in my way--TSA.

I've written numerous times about my experiences with TSA. Although I understand their importance and I appreciate their efforts, I remain resolved that there has to be a better way to screen individuals with disabilities. Dealing with these agents has been a crap shoot as I never know if I am going to have a positive or a nightmare experience.

I conducted all of my standard preparations as I readied to fly home from Columbia: I arrived at the airport in plenty of time; my prosthetic was clearly visible; I made sure that my clothes were rivet and buckle free. I put a friendly and engaging smile on my face as I approached the agents.

As expected, I was directed to the small plexiglass screening area. The female agent went through the normal script, explaining the procedure and offering me a private screening. I declined the private room, feeling that my fellow travelers should witness the security measures.

Almost immediately I knew that this agent was going to take "thorough" to a whole new level. She slipped her hand up the bottom of my skirt as she stroked my thighs to check for contraband. I have had the agents check my legs when I was wearing pants, but this was the first time I've flown in a skirt. I won't make that mistake again!

After my leg rub, I had to explain to her that I was wearing Spanx (basically a girdle) under my skirt. I tried to explain that the garment was form fitting to stop my bum and thighs from jiggling, but that did not deter her examination. She pulled down the waistband and felt inside both the skirt and the Spanx. She remarked that it was certainly a "tight squeeze" as she tried to feel the inside of the form-fitting lycra.

Typically I fly wearing a sports bra to avoid attracting undo attention from the metal detecting wand. Unfortunately I was traveling directly from the event, and I did not have time to change my clothes. I arrived at the airport in my "professional" outfit, including my Miracle bra.

When the agent finished with my bottom half, I immediately began to dread the pat down of my chest. I knew that I was wearing a padded bra, and, from the amount of contact I received on my lower portion, I anticipated her discovering this secret as well. With the growing swarm of travelers passing through the screening area, I only hoped that she would be discrete.

My hopes were immediately dashed. "My goodness Dear, you have a lot of padding up here." She continued to press along my breasts, with each hand movement remarking about the amount of "cushioning and extra fabric stored in the bra." Another screener walked by and was informed, in a casual tone, that "this one (referring to me) has a LOT of padding in her bra."

Embarrassed, I stood still and continued to listen her complain about my brassiere. I tried telling her that it was a push-up bra that I was wearing to flatter my figure in the V-Neck shirt. I tried joking about the price of beauty to lighten the mood. She remained obtuse to my embarrassment as she continued to chatter about the amount of padding I was sporting.

She eventually told me that she was going to "brace my back with her other hand because I have to press hard to feel through all of that padding that you have in your bra." Suddenly, my Miracle Bra was not feeling nearly as miraculous!

Finally, I just said "Yes, I am wearing a padded bra." I was frustrated and apparently made my statement louder than I realized. The suited man trying to put on his shoes nearly lost his balance and almost fell over. An elderly woman looked shocked and the teenage boy coming through the detector suddenly seemed very interested in exploring a career in TSA.

After an unusually intimate pat down and a public commentary on my undergarments, I was finally cleared to fly. I held my head high (nearly as high as my heavily padded breasts) and continued towards my gate. I couldn't wait to get home, strip off my Miracle Bra and Spanx, and take a shower. I don't regret denying the private screening area. After experiencing what the agent did in public, I wouldn't begin to venture what would occur behind closed doors!