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Every single time I fly for the rest of my life, this will be the scenario:
I tell the officer who waves me through the metal detector that I have an artificial hip joint. He ignores, waves me through and of course I set off the detector. He then waves me into a little pen, where I get to stand for 10, 15, 20 minutes until they can locate a female security officer who isn't on a break to wand and pat me down.
The only upside to this is that I've finally convinced my husband that we really do need to arrive at the airport more than five minutes before our plane is schedule to board.
