It's a Hard Knock Life

Okay, I obviously wrote too much, while I was offline... back to what I'd written longhand...

My large medicine box could not fit in the overhead compartment or under my seat on the smaller plane. Luckily, the flight attendant could move me to the back of the plane, where there was more space...

Arrive at the small town "international" airport (they must go to Canada or something for it to be considered international) and follow signs to ground transportation. I found a counter with taxi/sedan/limo on a sign. I'm told that all transportation must be arranged through them. I give my HWH address and they have me pre-pay $29 for the trip. I was given $55, so I'm not complaining. Meanwhile, an older lady comes to the counter to get a taxi home. She's charged $39 and is pissed, "it used to be only $19!" She gives in, of course, we all need to get to where we need to go... but lo and behold, they have only one car available - we are asked if we would mind sharing the taxi. I ask for a discount. We are each given $5 off our trip and we then agree. Poor lady didn't yet realize I was going to the absolute opposite side of the town than she was, so her ride would be twice as long. It's a small city, though, so we are talking the difference between 10 minutes and 20 minutes. So be it.

We go to the "taxi" and it's actually a sedan. Okay, we can travel in style. The lady asks me a bunch of questions. Picture her - very trendy dresser, fancy earrings, late 60's, grandmother for sure... Discretion definitely came in handy. She asked where I was traveling from, how long I was there, why I have such a big box of medication, what's medically wrong with me, etc.

So, what I did not say is, "I just got out of prison this morning, where I spent nearly a year, got no medical care except for my medication (well, most of my medications), and I have serenegative spondyloarthropathy... you are about to drop me off an an unnamed/unsigned large building in a bad neighborhood where I will spend more time with other felons, drug abusers, and other needing a hand up..." Nope, I didn't say that. I could just see her eyes bulge out of their socket. Instead, I just said, "I was in the Dallas/Fort Worth area for several months. I have to travel with my medication for an autoimmune condition. I'm going to a place to see someone." Enough said.

So, I'm dropped off at the front door of the RRC/HWH - it looks like a business office. I go to the main door, oops - men's side - I need to carry my stuff - big box included (tape handles broke off) - and make my way around the building and along a path to the women's side. I find the right number door, and go inside.

You know the look of old seedy motels, well, that's the feel when you walk into the women's side of this place. The men's side has a stained glass window and looks nicer, but you walk in here and there's a desk called the "bubble," where the staff members sit behind a plexiglass with a slot open at the bottom like a bank, and a talking hole too high for my height. Women were everywhere, doing a million things - going in/out of lockers, getting cigarettes, cleaning floors, going to meetings, sitting in a small courtyard, on the phone, asking for mail, asking for laundry soap, buying snacks, coming in from school/work, taking urine tests, getting alcohol breath checked, etc.

I stood at the bubble to be processed in. The young woman is new, never processed anyone before, and didn't know where to begin. It was 5:15pm. I just stood there, taking in the grittiness of the place - everything is old and warn down.

It became quickly apparent that the BOP inmate is the exception to what they usually have here. Most are here for drug/alcohol issues - there are a number of programs - rehab, drug court, swift and sure, and others that they do while in there. It is not a real halfway house, it is a locked down community correctional place. Only four other federal inmates are here on their "halfway house" time. I met one, she knew Danbury. She was supposed to be on home confinement weeks ago, but she's still here.

Anyway, a male staff member from the men's side comes to finally help me get processed in. I answer questions - out address, past drug/alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies, medical issues, etc. There's not enough room on the form to list all my medications or medical issues. Meanwhile, I am still standing and I have to use the restroom. So, this gives us the time to do my urinalysis and my strip search. Squat, spread 'em, cough - yep, once again. My breath is checked for alcohol "0.0." I'm back standing at the bubble for a while longer. It's after 6pm, so I ask for a chair, and they allow me to bring one up to the bubble. So, I sit down, lower than any openings in the plexiglass and attempt to hear their questions and provide answers. A ton of people continue to need the young staff woman's attention and the guy has to go back to his side of the facility, so, she gets pretty flusterred. Meanwhile, my box of medication is still sitting there - along with all my belongings - for her to sift through. At 6:35 pm, I ask if there's any way I can get something to eat. I know she is still processing me in, but I'm getting hungry and she keeps getting pulled away. She disappears to the kitchen and comes out with a sack lunch. Two peanut butter sandwiches on white break, packaged grape jelly (the same jelly we had at Carswell!!), pretzels, and bright blue sugar drink. I made a sandwich , ate a couple pretzels, took a swig of the blue juice (dumped the rest - too sweet), and at least felt satisfied.

Back to the bubble. I'm taken on a quick orientation walk by another resident and she quickly goes through lockers, laundry, tv, phones, meal times, count, smoking, schedule, showers, etc. I remember about two things she said. However, I won't forget the showers - thing gym class with one open room with five shower heads - no dividers, no curtains - just open - UGH! I also learn that I'm allowed no shorts, no t-shirts, no hoodies --- okay, there goes my entire wardrobe!

Back to the bubble. I'm assigned a room - they seem reluctant to have to place me there, but it's the only lower bunk available. I'm put on a bunk with a mattress thinner than anything at Carswell on a metal frame. The bunk above it is really low, I can't sit on the bunk without hitting my head. I can't swing my arm to pull up a blanket without hitting the top bunk by accident. This place has hospital beds - about 50% of the residents are sleeping on decent medical beds. They don't have medical issues, they just were in the rooms first. I'm given a sheet and a blanket. Pink (Danbury's friend) comes by as I'm making my bed. I ask about a pillow, a set of drawers, some hygiene products, and a towel - all stuff that is supposed to be supplied. It's now after 7pm, and I'm still not fully checked in.

I am given a locker, a lock, and pretty much everything I brought from Carswell is in that locker now (the locker sits by the bubble and we have to ask permission to go in/out of it every time). My roommates both have the same first name. So, I refer to them as #1 and #2. They provided me with 3 shelves, of the 12 available in the closet. I don't have many clothes yet, but not sure that will work in the long run... they also take up 100% of the hanging closet space.

I am given 15 minutes to make a call. We can use the phone for $1 for 15 minutes - one or more calls - but 15 min total. We must sign up and pay in advance. There's only one phone available for long-distance calls. I try calling Red's MIL quickly - still no answer. I call Sporty. She's been worried sick about me. Everyone is texting each other asking if I'm out, if I got here, etc. I'm out, but I am not free. I'm still locked in a secured environment. I need permission for everything. I am still wearing my prison greys. I was self-carrying my meds, here, I have to wait in a pill line for all my meds. I will do my best to get acclimated - this is not forever.

#2 has already tried to sell me a pair of sneakers and to borrow 50 cents. I showed no interest in the shoes and I have no change. At about 8pm, I'm back at the bubble. It appears my intake is over (3 hours), but I have no pillow case or towel. The pillow I am given has no stuffing at all. it just lies flat. I also still need some hygiene products to wash up with. I go to my room to lie down, write and hope that some of the things will be provided at some point.

The pillow case arrives thirty minutes later. It smells, but so does the blanket and sheets. All appear to be like 20 years old and yellowing. It takes me minutes to get up from the flatness of the mattress on my bed. I will talk to them tomorrow about finding me something better. This place is not set up for accommodating medical needs. In fact, it's pill line time and since they haven't put my pills in the computer yet, they won't provide me with any of them. At 9pm, the box of my enbryl is even still sitting there, rather than the medication going into a fridge like it has to.

An unfortunate thought hits me at that moment - I would rather be back at Carswell. I want to take a shower and put on clean clothes. It feels like I am laying on a metal slab on the bed I'm provided. I'm all of HALT - hungry, angry, lonely and tired.

The room I am in is a suite- like at a college dorm, with a bathroom between two rooms. Everything here is old and dirty. It's my home confinement date, I don't understand why I am not going to my home confinement and instead have a new lock-up experience. I kind of feel like I'm at an orphanage right now - "It's a Hard Knock Life" (from Annie) keeps playing in my head.

I say the serenity prayer over and over again. I have a lot to be grateful for. I think about Red, possibly locked up at county, and I know I have nothing to complain about. I am even better off than the poor new young woman who is working at the bubble. She seems so overwhelmed and looks totally dazed. There are about 40 women here, but the chaos and drama already matches Carswell - except I hear no real fighting. It's loud, though, very, very loud. Music, talking, laughing, doors slamming, water running, shoes sliding, etc.

Whoa, #2 just got naked facing me - with leapard print undies on and I really did NOT want to see her naked. I'm actually glad my glasses are off, so I'm really only able to see a blur. It's a big enough room that she did not need to do that right next to my bed!

My suite mates are gossiping and talking about guys and drugs. I'm still in prison. It's just a smaller, older, less organized one. I should have brought my crochet blanket to work on!

10:15pm. I'm laying on metal. I am using my prison swearshirt to prop up my head. My back and neck are aching and I'm soooooo tired. My meds are still not in the computer, so I was not allowed to take any of my nighttime medications. I just received my hygiene pack - a plastic cup, same body soap/shampoo we had at Carswell, prison deodorant, a mini-toothbrush, scary toothpaste, and a mini-razor. Oh, and a spork. A plastic orange sport. I am hoping to get a towel still.

I never thought anything could be less organized than Carswell, but I was wrong. I hope I get my meds soon. I look forward to seeing T.S. in the morning. It'll be a better day!! I'm sure this place will get better as well. I'm not behind a fence anymore. I can wear my own clothes, and I'm much closer to friends and family!!