I spent the last five days in Charleston, South Carolina with my mom, grandmother, and cousin celebrating birthdays, life, and good news. We had an amazing trip filled with lots of seafood, sight-seeing, and girl talk. I haven't been able to spend that much time with my mom or my family in awhile and it was much needed.

But travel these days isn't all it's cracked up to be. We've always been a family that traveled so I remember days when you could carry on gallons of shampoo and nobody cared. I remember when you walked through a metal detector and people barely noticed you. Post 9/11 has changed travel though. And recent years have brought about even higher security in airports.

So when I left Tuesday morning with a roll aboard suitcase filled with tiny bottles of liquid and all the other necessities for a 5 day trip in the South, I knew how the airport trip might turn out. But I didn't exactly expect what I received, which was a stressful travel day to say the least.

I arrived at the airport with just enough time to get to my flight. It was early morning and I wasn't feeling the TSA's scrutiny to begin with. As I took off my shoes, my jacket, and pulled out my entire life to be sent through the X-ray machine, I proceeded to the metal detector. Suddenly, I was redirected to the new security scanners, which I posted my own opinion of here.

As I've mentioned, I choose to opt out of these scanners. One, because I refuse to subject myself to even more radiation considering how much we are put through every day just walking around. Two, because I'm exercising my right to refuse to be screened so invasively. The images that are seen (even if they do claim to have changed to be less descript) are not what I feel comfortable with. I would rather be touched in private areas than seen through an X-ray machine outside my doctor's office.

Which is exactly what happened on Tuesday as I opted out (and was rudely treated, I might add). After being assaulted in the middle of the airport, I made my way to the correct gate to board my flight. I boarded last since I always choose seats towards the front of the plane (I like to exit as soon as possible). That apparently got me in trouble since I opted to bring a rolling suitcase instead of checking for $25 (per trip) and to save myself time at baggage claim.

The airline attendant ordered those with larger bags to come forward and check your suitcase. I did as told thinking that I could gate check my bag and have it waiting for me outside the door of the plane (instead of going to baggage claim). To my surprise, they insisted that there was no room and I had to check it through all the way to my final destination into baggage claim.

I told the attendant that I had diabetes supplies in my bag and asked to gate check. He refused. So I removed my diabetes supplies begrudgingly and resorted my bags to make sure I could easily make it over my layover and into Charleston. He assured me that my bag would meet me in Charleston, probably before I even got there (whatever that means).

But when I landed in Charleston and met my family, my bag wasn't there to greet me. After a conversation with the baggage specialist, I learned that my bag would "probably" be on the next flight, but they couldn't guarantee anything since the bag hadn't been scanned into the computer at all. In short, they had no idea where my bag could be or would be. I asked them to call before delivering my bag to the hotel (wanting as few people to move my bag as possible) if it did arrive on the next flight.

We went to enjoy dinner at Bubba Gump's restaurant (amazing, try it if you haven't already!). I spent awhile on the phone trying to find out where my bag was only to be told the same exact thing as before. I left another message for them to call before it was delivered since we planned to drive back to the airport following dinner.

And after dinner, we drove back to the airport. I was told that my bag was already delivered and they'd tried to call (my phone never rang, although I called them multiple times with no answer). It did turn out that my bag was delivered in one piece with all my belongings. I can't express how grateful I was to see my things, but I also can't express how grateful I was that I never check my diabetes supplies.

The moral of this story is to always think when you travel with the D. You can never be too safe when it comes to your supplies. Always bring extra. Always carry it on. Always keep it close by. And never let the TSA take away your dignity.