Locked Up

12pm I spent the morning in my room, because everyone here is working on some programming, except me. Of course, I fell asleep. It's still way uncomfortable on my bunk, but it's better - I'll take better! I used my exercise band and did what I could. Then, I went to see when my intake would be. I was told they'd get me, and it was supposed to be this morning. When I found the staff that does the intake, she said, "gather everyone that's new and we'll do it now...," but everyone that's new is in a meeting, so now it's rescheduled for later this afternoon.

I, also, inquired on whether I am leaving today. My CW already left for the day. The other CW said she'd look into my file. I'll be here, locked inside, for the weekend if I am not given the approval to head home. I'm building anxiety, but the serenity prayer is a constant chant in my head. I wish I could go for a walk, get some sun, or be doing something productive. At least lunch was good - chicken patties, broccoli, and chips. They use these plastic adobe looking round plates, so every meal feels southwestern - ha! In this meal, I used my handy dandy spork for the broccoli and to spread my mayo. It really is the all go to tool. I will never down the spork again!

They haven't placed me on a house job, because I am leaving so soon. CW didn't approve my visitors for the weekend - I really think she thought I wouldn't be here. I hope the other CW can help make it happen!

1pm. I met with the nurse. He was a nice guy. We talked about medical care in the BOP and later, as he did my assessment, he told me I was medically knowledgeable. Yeah, I have some background on the stuff. All vitals were good - no follow up necessary.

I am not going home today... There are no notes from my CW, so there's nothing they can do until Monday. Seems the workers here are as capable as those at Carswell. Tell you one thing, drop the ball, and you are left with staying longer.

Intake was filling out a bunch of forms. The CW kept telling me that they were not relevant to me because I'm not programming, so just skip it or sign my name at the bottom. Since I'm here more than 24 hours, they need to have the paperwork in my folder. Glad it'll look to their bosses that they are dotting their i's and crossing their t's. There's a packet of papers about programming that I have to complete this weekend. One was a drug/alcohol assessment. For every question my honest answer was "no" or "n/a."

When I start my organization in the future, no one will be told that there is no programming for them. Every resident will receive their own plan to follow - individual and group opportunities. For this weekend, I was told to just get used to this place and the many rules. I believe a different/real HWH would have been more appropriate for me...

LAUNDRY WARS???
3:30pm The laundry room contains two front loader washers and dryers. Too bad, one of them is broke. The procedure is that we sign up in advance for a laundry machine. Since no one was signing up for one of them, I correctly deduced something must be wrong with it. Even so, there are plenty of open times for the working one. I chose 3:15pm. My short stay seemingly longer and lack of clothing choices (T.S. brought me plenty of undergarments, but not much in terms of shirts/pants and no pj's), I really need to wash.

So, at 3:15pm, I get whatever blah powder laundry soap the staff in the bubble gives me and go to the laundry room. The washer still had a good 30 minutes left. In Carswell, this would be war. So, I go back to the bubble and inquire about procedure if laundry is running late. I don't want trouble. No trouble, here, just go in when it's empty - oh, how the real world works... No screaming down the hall, "Washer #2!!"

IRONY
5:30pm I write about laundry, go to eat dinner, and as I'm exiting, I'm told I'm officially on laundry detail as my house job. Ummm, okay.

This is institutional laundry - sheets, blankets, towels, etc. Wash, dry, fold, repeat. Plus, make sure we have five sets ready at all times - impossible, because we only had two towels, 1 wash cloth, and 2 pillow cases, so anyone who gets a set will be missing one or more things. No wonder it took me so long to get a pillow case!

It's downtime after house jobs, so I folded, swept the floor, and went to my room. All I have for the rest of the night is the phone at 7pm and pill line at 9pm. #2 is in her bed grunting, but doesn't appear to be doing anything to herself this time. #1 is in her usual pissy mood. She keeps the room door wide open, #2 wants it closed. I'm just minding my own business.

I walked some hallway laps before dinner. The two hallways we can use make an "L" shape (with the bubble at their intersection). One hallway is about 50 yards, and other about 100, so back and forth, back and forth.

I learned this building used to be a nursing home. I can see it - the doors are extra wide, bathrooms without showers, etc. Based on it's look, though, it was probably never a "nice" nursing home. It's very institutional - cinder block walls, ugly linoleum floors. On the room ceilings, the rails are still there for the separator curtains that once separated the two residents in each room for privacy. Now, I know why there are so many hospital beds - they must've come with the building! Also, these old sheets and blankets - wow, it must have been a foreclosure!

You Don't Look Like a Felon
8:30pm For the umpteenth time since my arrival two days ago, I was told, "You don't look like a felon... what'd you do?" I answer honestly and no one can figure out why I was prosecuted. They don't understand what fraud means. I've had a lot of time since my crime, but it doesn't make me any less guilty of it.

Today, two different young staff members made the comment, including the young women who first processed me. They are new grads with bachelors in Criminal Justice. I used to teach their courses at a community college. In another life, these young women could have been my students. One talked to me about law school. A resident also talked to me about law school. She is also a fed case and she's applying to my same university. She did her undergrad there, too. I'm glad she doesn't see her felony as the end of her career goals - just like I don't. I pray she's successful!

There have been tears here today - people dealing with family issues, inability to take their narcotic drugs (not allowed at all), a woman discharged saying goodbye, a funeral of a friend, and more. Most are fairly new to being sober and don't yet know how to deal with emotions or handling difficulty. They just smoke, smoke, smoke. I feel sad for their struggles. 

I finished all the paperwork I was told to fill out this weekend. One question I found specifically interesting is "what is a victim?" I answered, "someone who believes life is happening "to" them, rather than an opportunity to learn and grow. My answer hadn't prepared me for the next question - very fitting based on my writing over the last 24 hours, "who were my victims?" This time I answered incredibly different - again listing all the people my actions hurt. Life didn't happen "to" them. They still hold anger and resentment, years later. Yet, I don't like the term "victim," I prefer "survivor." I guess they are the survivors of my addictive behavior. Are they victims or survivors? I don't know. Perhaps because of this time of the year - May 5th, 2008 my last gamble, May 11th, my unintentional intervention, June 9th, my first GA meeting (my clean date) makes this a good time to reflect on all the people I hurt, the community, the staff, friends, family, and myself. I must live in the present, though, and right now I must just keep moving forward and do good in this world. I may never make my victims/survivors whole or happy, but maybe I can help enough other people to make up for my past and my addiction.

FIRE DRILL
11pm Laying in bed, reading a 1990's book by Tami Hoag - "beep, beep, beep... beep, beep, beep..." Fire alarm. #2 runs out - she immediately falls to the ground outside, covering her ears. At Carswell, the flashing lights caused several seizures during each drill, for #2, it's the sound that causes her seizures. She didn't have a seizure tonight, though. UGH, the alarm just started going off again... #2 just made another run for it out the door. We were told not to go, but she was already out. They are saying she's AWOL, but she's just outside the door, covering her ears. It's still going off 5 minutes later, my ear plugs help a little.

Anyway, during the first fire alarm at 11pm, we exit the building and they do roll call - 40 men and about 50 yds away are the 40 women. There's a big racial difference between the men and the women. 90% of the men are African American, only 3 of the women are. Not sure why. Two men didn't get up, so we are warned - fire alarm again tomorrow night at 11pm. Something to look forward to.

It's past lights out, but #2 is still not back and the fire alarm finally shut off. Conversations are still loud in the hall. It may be a long night!