From Dragonfly: Sightseeing

This morning started pretty much like most mornings... shower, dressed, meeting Freckles for breakfast, and then checking my email. It was a fine morning. At 7:15 am, I decided to check-in to education/work early, because I needed to grab some tissue to use the restroom. As I was checking-in, an officer, carrying a well known "med trip bag" with her, started down the hall. I asked her if she were looking for someone and she said my last name. She said it wrong, like everyone here does, but it was mine! I held my arms out wide and said, "that's me!" I have never been more excited for a doctor appointment, but this trip is my chance to reduce my care level, ensure my halfway house papers can be done, and possibly get home a little bit earlier than my "out" date in July.

The officer who was my security (or secured me from the world) was a young woman about my age. She was incredibly kind, even through the process of walking into the "strip search room" in order to process me for my trip away. I had to go through the typical strip search, although, I was able to keep my bra, underwear, and socks on. She did make me lift, drop, squat, cough, like usual, but I only had to hold them down, not take them entirely off.

After my search, I was given R&D pants, shirt, and jacket. The R&D clothing are those clothes we receive when we first get here... pants and shirt that say our size about 20x on them in black marker and nothing fits just right. I was also given R&D shoes. I have to say, I did not miss those faded, flat, used to be blue, shoes. They didn't have my size, so I had to wear a pair a size too big. They didn't match. It reminded me of my early days when I had those shoes and one was blue and the other white. This pair was about the same shade, but they had subtle differences between them... must have been received in different shipments. NO doubt, they've been warn by many, many other inmates. Good thing I had on thick socks!

After I was dressed and the officer filled out some paperwork, she brought me to the dental benches to wait. I felt kind of bad sitting there, as the people waiting for dental were told to go and sit in the hall. Not sure why I would get the priority than them. Also, we are all always together, but now that I'm in R&D clothing and have been searched, I can have no contact with another inmate. I get that, I guess. The officer called the lieutenant for a signature on my paperwork.

After 20 minutes, the officer called the lieutenant for a second time, because he hadn't signed me out yet. We waited another 15 minutes. I heard the dental patients ask the officer if they can at least sit in the hall. They were permitted. Only myself was sitting on the uncomfortable blue benches in the dental waiting room... enough sitting for at least 15 people. We continued to wait.

About 5 minutes later, the officer got a little restless and started to walk me toward the lieutenant's office. The lieutenant, instead, met us on the way. He asked my name and id number and then signed the paperwork. Finally, we were off.

We walked from the R&D office to the compound exit. It has two barred doors that we must pass, and a guard asked me my identification again in order to open those gates. Then, we just walked out of the building. For the first time in over 5 months, I was on the other side of the prison fences. Words can't express all the emotions - it even seemed sunnier. I was placed in the back seat of a rundown Chevy Malibu, which had the child protective locks so I couldn't try anything (not that I would), and sat there for a couple minutes. I stared at the prison camp, just across the street. I could see inmates playing with puppies, others working. It's a totally different environment there - and there's no barbed wire.

As we started to drive, we drove through the base. It was the same trip the guard took who brought me from the front gates of the naval base to the prison. I saw family housing, barracks, stores, a gas station, a kids park, sample jets, and lots of people. So many things I haven't seen in SOOOO long. It was even weird riding in the car - I haven't been on a speed bump, on a highway, moving more than my slow walking pace, for almost half a year. The grass looks greener. The restaurants look more appealing. The sky looks clearer. Oh yeah, this is how the rest of the people live.

It took just less than a half an hour to get to the building for my appointment. It was a large building with many different doctor offices in it. The officer and I stepped into the elevator. Other's were on it too. I kept my eyes on the officer. I didn't dare say anything to anyone. No one had to tell me that I couldn't. Instinctively, I knew. Once we got to the right floor, my officer picked up a special phone. A woman came down the hall, unlocked a door, and led me into a special "holding" medical office. It is literally an exam room, a locked holding cell, a waiting room, and a bathroom all meant for people from the area prisons. I had no idea anything like this existed in the world. I was allowed to sit in the waiting room, while we waiting for the nurse to arrive. When she did, I was brought into the exam room and my vitals were taken. She did an initial intake - with quite a reaction when I said, "seronegative spondyloarthropathy." She said, "I'm sorry." I don't know if the sorry was because she couldn't spell it, had never heard of it, or knew what it causes. She went through all my meds and then went to get the doctor.

The doctor was a woman, of Indian descent, who reminds me a lot of my rheumatologist in the outside world. She agreed that my condition is mimicking rheumatoid arthritis and lupus and that my enthesitis definitely connects it to spondyloarthropathy. She was starting to say that she wants to see me in two months, when I told her, "no, you don't." I explained that nothing happens in two months... it would be more like 5 (again) and I would not be allowed to be released from my medical hold at Carswell. I explained that I will follow up with my rheumatologist back home. The officer with me verified what I was saying. So, the doctor ordered some labs and wrote that I am to follow up with my rheumatologist back at home upon release. Perfect, now, I pray, that will release my medical hold. She also wrote the recommendation of limited climbing, which will ensure me a first floor, lower bunk. That is the one accommodation I must have. I can live with a lot of pain, but climbing is really, really difficult.

The doctor ordered my labs, wished me well, and left me in the room while she got the paperwork together. Meanwhile, a male inmate from a men's federal prison was brought into the holding room. He was wearing a bright orange jumpsuit, orange shoes, and had on shackles. They put him in the locked holding cell. However, since I was done with the doctor, when the nurse came in for his vitals, I was switched with him. Now, I was locked in the holding cell. It's a huge window, so I could see and hear my officer talking with the man's officer. Surreal, yes.

Once my officer had my paperwork, we were heading back out to our car. Just walking along a sidewalk, with cars driving next to us, was odd. We passed several nice houses as we drove back to the prison. Definitely, two extremes of life in the U.S. As I saw us heading back onto the naval base, I knew my tour was just about over. I immediately became sad. At just about half time to my stay here, I got a short piece of viewing the world beyond. Now, I have to spend my time again behind the barbed wire and fences. It's hamburger day, so that's the only thing to look forward to for the rest of the day.

The officer came and got me at 8am. I was back at 11am. I was with the doctor 15 minutes and at the medical office there about 45. That was my medical trip. The trip I've been waiting for, for more than 5 months. Upon my return, I had to go to the clinic, have my vitals taken here, and then I was released to lunch. Now, I will pay forward as much knowledge as I have to everyone I know here, waiting for a med-trip. It's how we learn what to expect. Of course, it is always different. But, it helps with anxiety of unknown. I was allowed a short sightseeing trip today. That's a good day.