by Timothy Rutt
We're trying to get back in the saddle this week after a busy weekend. It's public knowledge that our son Jacob has Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, part of the interesting genetic mix that is our family. Jake recently qualified for a trial for a promising new drug treatment, and one parent or another has been escorting him to UC-Davis for testing -- the actual treatment is to start this week (altho' we may just get the placebo -- we won't know until it's over).
Anyway, this week was critical and stressful as he had to have a muscle biopsy, which is an outpatient surgery -- they take a sample of his muscle tissue pre-treatment so they can compare the results at the end of the drug trial. This involved flying to Sacramento on Sunday night so he could be well-rested for a final round of physical testing and the actual surgery on Monday.
It was our turn to take the trip, and Jake is a real trooper about these things. He couldn't eat anything after midnight, so he was real hungry Monday morning, even as surgery was delayed two hours because the kid ahead of him was more complex than they thought.
Jake came through it like a champ, and, with his leg freshly stitched and heavily-bandaged where they'd taken the tissue sample, we took a taxi to the airport and scored a wheelchair from Southwest Airlines Monday afternoon.
Then we faced airport security, and there's where it got interesting.
We got pulled out of the line for special scrutiny. Actually, Jake got pulled out of the line for special scrutiny.
In TSA's wisdom, a small ten year old boy in a wheelchair with a fresh post-surgical packing was considered a possible threat to the Republic. The TSA officers said they could search him publicly or in a private area. I asked Jake what he preferred, and he said he'd rather be searched away from people, so we were wheeled into a small room.
That may have been a mistake. As I pulled out my camera phone to document the search, the TSA officers said I was not allowed to do that in the private area. Rather than make a scene about it, I complied but watched very carefully. The search involved making him half-stand so they could feel around his buttocks, and it involved touching around his genitals with the back of a gloved hand. There was some discussion of removing him from the wheelchair to inspect that, but they decided not to because it was airline property.
(It said "Southwest: Spirit of Freedom" on the side. Make your own comment here).
To the officers' credit, they were very polite and professional for men who grope ten year olds for a living. Jake passed inspection, and we went on.
Of course, he was on heavy painkillers at the time, and he seems unperturbed by it. But I'm not.
