From Dragonfly: Signs of Compassion

It is easy to walk around prison with a negative attitude, be selfish, and not notice the little things. However, I try to be an observer, and there are always people doing for others - to me, these are signs that these people still have compassion, the ability to care for another human being, even as they are put into the impossibility of living here. I want to share some of the things that bring a smile to my face.

I see young women who will walk up to a wheel chair of a total stranger and offer to push them across campus or just to the next room (it all counts). Yesterday, I saw an African American older woman fixing the hair of a Caucasian older woman sitting next to her in the clinic. She had made her hair into a fancy bun and kept doing it until it was perfect with a smile on her face the entire time. I see women show concern for people who faint, have a seizure, or have an emergency sending them to the medical unit. I see women cry when someone else dies, loses a limb, has a still born, attempts suicide, or loses a family member back home. Empathy and sympathy exists in prison. I don't see this behavior by the staff - as they have to keep a professional distance - but I see it from inmate to inmate to inmate to inmate.

There is compassion for the women who have to shave their heads because it is falling out from chemo and compassion for the women who suddenly have to be on oxygen or a walker after being well just before. I see compassion for students who fail their GED, cosmetology, or apprenticeship tests. I see people helping others who are here for so long, they haven't seen family in more than 10 years. They become their family and help take care of them. I'm sure the compassion I see here is entirely different from what one would find at a men's prison. Gender roles would forbid the "touch" or gentleness.

I wanted to write all that, because I wanted to start with something positive, as today is a tough day for me. I had a bad migraine last night and with no ability to be in darkness or quiet, it was a very long night. So today, I have the migraine hangover that comes when the migraine lessens. With my migraine medication, I would have been able to start getting better last night, but since that medication was denied to me, I just have to wait it out or, if it I am desperate, I can get some i.v. medication. I wasn't quite that desperate last night - although, I did consider it. When I have the migraine hangover, I am usually more sensitive than usual, and that is certainly true today. Every little thing is getting to me. Things people say, or names people call me. Throughout my life I've found myself the brunt of many jokes, the same is true in prison. I can be neurotic, I know this. So, today, a coworker is calling me "Garfield" and laughing and I know not to care, but I don't like it. I didn't sit with her and the others from education at lunch because I was feeling sensitive. After lunch, I walked to their table and apologized for not sitting with them. I told them I was being sensitive. As with recovery, we apologize when we are in the wrong - always cleaning up our side of the street - but when they didn't apologize back, I don't care - because they are the ones needing to clean up their side of the street. I am an easy target, always have been, and I need not care what anyone else thinks of me - it is about them, not me.

I also went to the clinic today (again) because I wanted to know for sure if I was being released to the camp. Anyone medical, such as myself, needs 413 release to be transferred out of the medical facility. Don't ask what that all means, because I am not specifically certain, but it has to do with medical clearance. Turns out, after another 2 1/2 hours waiting to see the right person (and they only do this 1 time per month), that I was never being sent to the camp. My case worker must have confused me with someone else. The paperwork would have needed to start at the clinic, and it did not. So, they are now seeing if it was even possible to move me - do to my medication "methotrexate." They did confirm, once again, that I can ONLY be transferred to the camp across the street - no other camp in the federal system can take female prisoners at a care level 3 and I cannot have my care level decreased because of my medications and condition. I guess I'm going to be in the medical facility a bit longer. I'll update if I hear anything else.

So, that made me even more frustrated. Weeks ago I was told that I am being transferred. There were a bunch of emotions (bad and good) connected with that prospect. Today I find out that it was all a mistake. My case worker is on vacation until mid-January (yes, that long), so I can't even go to her and ask her about the mistake. Guess I need to get comfortable for a while. Good thing is, some of my friends are glad to hear I'm not moving right away. They certainly are showing compassion for my situation, but they are glad I'll be here with them through the holidays. Guess I can hold onto that.