After being asked for the fifth time, I clenched my teeth and explained again: "She's on a medical diet. She has epilepsy. It's a high-fat diet called the ketogenic diet. We use it to control her seizures. Everything she eats needs to be precisely measured. I have a doctor's letter. Would you like to see the letter?"
Once again, nobody cared to see the letter. They had bags to tear into.
As one woman pulled apart a bag, yanking out vitamins and pill crushers and the electronic scale, she grilled me on the contents and their purpose. Another man peered intently at an image of the cooler filled with chilled, pre-measured keto meals on his x-ray machine monitor. A third security person was waving a can of coconut milk he had taken from my bag, asking me for the fifth time why it was part of Jade's medical diet. He stared at it like it was the most dangerous object in the world and called his supervisor over to ask if he should confiscate it.
I should have felt honoured to have had three security people taking such an interest in the contents of our baggage. Knowing how seriously they take their jobs should have provided me, and everyone else in the rapidly-lengthening line behind me feelings of safety and comfort. Instead, I had a frustrated scowl on my face. As did everyone else in the line on the other side of the metal detector. Terrorists posing as dads with four-year-old girls on medical diets must be more common than I realized.
Finally, after they had been through all of my bags, the woman finally asked me for the letter. Finally satisfied, she gave me the all-clear. I scrambled to pack everything back together and realized I hadn't been given back the can of coconut milk. I put my hand out toward the man who was still holding the can, using the international gesture of "give it to me now". The man looked at the can again, perhaps weighing in his mind the potential damage that could be caused by such an item. After another glance at his boss, he reluctantly handed it to me. A can of coconut milk isn't an expensive thing but I had already decided that I wasn't going to leave without it.
Luckily, we made it to our gate on time, but the look on the airport security guy's face caused me to wonder, what could possibly be so dangerous about a can of coconut milk? Was he afraid that I would somehow turn the coconut milk into an explosive device? Because that would take some serious MacGuver-like skills. Was he afraid that I would somehow get ahold of a can opener and turn the lid and base of the can into throwing stars, using them to hijack the plane? Maybe he suspected that I was a MacGuyver-like ninja. Who knows?
What I do know for sure is that I'm glad that I brought that can of coconut milk home. Fawn went shopping for coconut milk two days ago and it would appear that the particular brand we use for Jade's diet momentarily disappeared from the shelves in Whitehorse.
We would have been hooped without it.
Aroy-D Coconut Milk - Preferred by ninja terrorists with MacGuyver-like skills posing as dads with four-year-old girls on medical diets.