I’m getting ready to head to the airport for a business trip to Washington, DC. It’s my first time flying since the fateful “Shits on a Plane” incident, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Not about frantic sprints for the bathroom and uncooperative flight attendants (I’m my own self-contained lavatory these days), but about TSA and the security line and the creepy 3-D X-ray machine and a pat-down and questions about my ostomy supply kit and . . . . But I’m sure I’ll manage. So far, I always have.
UPDATE: Trip #2, with bonus full TSA pat-down, discussed here.