Back home, I love long weekends. It's great time to take a short road trip, clean up the house, get things off my to-do list, relax, see movies, spend time with friends, catch up on sleep, eat a good breakfast out, and more. Here, a three-day weekend just means more of the same things I do every other weekend day. Usually, by Monday morning, I am so happy to have my job to go back to.
This weekend is President's Day Weekend. I guess on the outside, everyone is reading the newspaper flyers to see what big President's Day sales are going on. In here, it's three days of the same. Luckily, it is warm outside (I'm actually in my grey shorts), so I can spend some time outside in the sun today. The natural vitamin D should do me some good.
Other things I will do this weekend include helping a friend out writing something, starting a new project (intended to make my locker space more usable), watch the Olympics (if it is on any of the televisions), and clean my room. I am responsible for weekend cleaning. All three days will include this.
I dream for the day that I can go out and do something more. It will happen soon enough. There's no word on "when" my paperwork will be done for my transfer to the camp or my halfway house. Everything is waiting on medical to do their exit summary. If they fail to get it done, there is nothing I can do. So, I think I'll have many more weekends of new projects and cleaning my room.
A blog about a woman sentenced to one year and one day in a federal women's prison camp and was sent to FMC Carswell for a crime related to her history of compulsive gambling.
Highlights
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Saturday, February 15, 2014
Friday, February 14, 2014
From Dragonfly: Relationships with the Outside
Everyday I hear stories from people who are struggling with keeping their marriages and romantic relationships strong, while they are in prison. There are many who fear their spouse/partner will have an affair (or are having an affair), will never forgive their crime or the fact that they are imprisoned, or have lost their trust. Since it is Valentine's Day, I thought I would share some of the hints that I have noticed that seem to be keeping some relationships strong or are those things that seem to distance relationships.
Tell the truth: Honesty truly is the best policy. Tell your spouse/partner everything and answer their questions honestly. You can only do this, totally, if you have forgiven yourself and are honest with yourself. If you are unwilling to do the hard work with yourself, then you cannot expect someone else to do it for you. If your spouse/partner was unaware of the behavior that got you in trouble with the law, then you will need to rebuild the trust. Do as much as you can before you come to prison, because once you are here, the ability to have good communication diminishes.
Focus on them: Remember that we cannot be the center of everyone's attention. If we are going to, or are in prison, they are dealing with not having you around. Often, that means increased demands on them: child rearing, bill paying, ... i.e. doing all the things you used to do when you were home. Try to put together a list of everything you do to keep the house going before you go. Leave behind all the passwords, phone numbers, etc that are needed for transition to go smoothly. Try to transition all these things prior to your self-surrender, so that there can be trial runs. If you are unsure of everything you do, then keep a log for a couple weeks, that will come in handy for the lists you need to make. I see a lot of fights over the little things, because there's nothing we can do from in here, but if our family is not sure how to proceed on the outside, it causes frustration for everyone.
Also, remember that they are alone and lonely as well. Sure, they have their friends and other family, but you were their best friend as their spouse/partner. When you write/call them, don't just complain about life in prison, focus some attention on them. Ask them about their day, their work, etc. Let them have a "normal" conversation with you now and then. If all the attention is on you every day, they can end up frustrated.
Communicate often: We know that communication is the most important thing in any relationship. Use the devices available - phone, email, and snail mail, to maintain a consistent presence in each others lives. Make some of the communication caring/romantic, some of it fact-telling, and some of it problem-solving. Consider this a time to once again "woo" each other with kind thoughts and dreams of the future. If you are a "problem-solver" - keep in mind that it is impossible to help solve each others problem's. You need to depend on yourselves for a while. Don't make this an area of broken communication because you feel so powerless.
Visit: It is so important to see the person you love so that you can reconnect the intimacy. I know that you cannot hold each other or have total privacy, but just being able to look into one another's eyes, hug, and just be side by side is so important. Think of the days, early in your relationship, when you were still nervous about kissing the other person or holding their hand. There are rules against touching (except for the kiss/hug hello and goodbye), so that restraint can actually build up the excitement for when your partner/spouse is once again home. You do not need to visit weekly or monthly, most people can't. Also, the incarcerated person cannot be upset if their spouse/partner is unable to visit for some time (remember, life goes on outside of prison), but try to visit at least once every quarter or 6 months. It will be something for you both to look forward to. You can make plans and build the anxiety of seeing each other once again. When the visit occurs, make the conversation about everything, not just the reality of prison-life.
I think that it is vitally important to not be angry with your spouse/partner on the outside. If your relationship was unhealthy before you went to prison, I promise that it will be unhealthy while you are in prison. If you lied to your partner for months/years, I can promise you that they will be hurt and untrusting of what you say. It is up to your partner if they want to see a therapist or do anything - we cannot control other people's thoughts, actions, or anything. Stop trying to tell someone else how they should feel or what they should do. A relationship will only be strong through incarceration and beyond if both people are fully committed to making it work - for better or for worse.
Financials: Our crimes put others into financial uncertainty. There's the cost of our defense, our restitution, the government's rights to our assets, etc. Work with a financial expert/attorney to protect the household finances as much as possible - in a legal way. Don't put all the pressure on your partner/spouse to figure it all out. Also, don't get mad if your partner/spouse makes a financial decision you don't agree with. Remember, no one is perfect and everyone gets overwhelmed when it comes to finances. Whatever loss you end up with is not as important as the people in your life. Things can be replaced, people cannot. Put aside your ego and your need to live a certain lifestyle. Once you are out of prison, you will have the opportunity to build a new life with your partner/spouse. There is no way to go back to before your incarceration, so let the "things" go.
Don't "cheat" on your partner/spouse: This is physical or emotional "cheating." For the time that you are apart, find hobbies, education, family members, work, etc. to keep yourself busy. It does not need to be a time of loneliness, if you have each other by communication and other things to occupy your time. Consider relationships that last while one person is in the military overseas or where someone has a very demanding job. What matters is that they trust one another - and that is especially true when it comes to the commitment you have for one another.
Love: The is the most important item. Make sure you tell each other that you "love" them every time you talk. It may be difficult at times, when things are going uneasy or you don't agree with a decision they made, but your love is the number one connection you will have throughout the imprisonment. If you aren't sure you "love" the person, then there is not a lot that can be done to save the relationship while one partner is incarcerated. Absence can either "make the heart grow stronger," or it can lead to "out of sight, out of mind." Whichever way you are going, honesty continues to be the best policy. If you know before the person goes to prison that things aren't working out, don't just pretend out of guilt, it will just make things really bad when the person leaves.
Well, I'm sure there's a lot more advice myself and others can give, but the most important thing is to be your best person every day, even through the hard days. Your strength will bind you together.
Happy Valentine's Day to everyone trying to maintain a healthy relationship while incarcerated! It may be difficult, but most of you will have many more years together on the outside, than the years that separate you for now.
Happy Valentine's Day, also, to all my friends and family. I love you all!
Tell the truth: Honesty truly is the best policy. Tell your spouse/partner everything and answer their questions honestly. You can only do this, totally, if you have forgiven yourself and are honest with yourself. If you are unwilling to do the hard work with yourself, then you cannot expect someone else to do it for you. If your spouse/partner was unaware of the behavior that got you in trouble with the law, then you will need to rebuild the trust. Do as much as you can before you come to prison, because once you are here, the ability to have good communication diminishes.
Focus on them: Remember that we cannot be the center of everyone's attention. If we are going to, or are in prison, they are dealing with not having you around. Often, that means increased demands on them: child rearing, bill paying, ... i.e. doing all the things you used to do when you were home. Try to put together a list of everything you do to keep the house going before you go. Leave behind all the passwords, phone numbers, etc that are needed for transition to go smoothly. Try to transition all these things prior to your self-surrender, so that there can be trial runs. If you are unsure of everything you do, then keep a log for a couple weeks, that will come in handy for the lists you need to make. I see a lot of fights over the little things, because there's nothing we can do from in here, but if our family is not sure how to proceed on the outside, it causes frustration for everyone.
Also, remember that they are alone and lonely as well. Sure, they have their friends and other family, but you were their best friend as their spouse/partner. When you write/call them, don't just complain about life in prison, focus some attention on them. Ask them about their day, their work, etc. Let them have a "normal" conversation with you now and then. If all the attention is on you every day, they can end up frustrated.
Communicate often: We know that communication is the most important thing in any relationship. Use the devices available - phone, email, and snail mail, to maintain a consistent presence in each others lives. Make some of the communication caring/romantic, some of it fact-telling, and some of it problem-solving. Consider this a time to once again "woo" each other with kind thoughts and dreams of the future. If you are a "problem-solver" - keep in mind that it is impossible to help solve each others problem's. You need to depend on yourselves for a while. Don't make this an area of broken communication because you feel so powerless.
Visit: It is so important to see the person you love so that you can reconnect the intimacy. I know that you cannot hold each other or have total privacy, but just being able to look into one another's eyes, hug, and just be side by side is so important. Think of the days, early in your relationship, when you were still nervous about kissing the other person or holding their hand. There are rules against touching (except for the kiss/hug hello and goodbye), so that restraint can actually build up the excitement for when your partner/spouse is once again home. You do not need to visit weekly or monthly, most people can't. Also, the incarcerated person cannot be upset if their spouse/partner is unable to visit for some time (remember, life goes on outside of prison), but try to visit at least once every quarter or 6 months. It will be something for you both to look forward to. You can make plans and build the anxiety of seeing each other once again. When the visit occurs, make the conversation about everything, not just the reality of prison-life.
I think that it is vitally important to not be angry with your spouse/partner on the outside. If your relationship was unhealthy before you went to prison, I promise that it will be unhealthy while you are in prison. If you lied to your partner for months/years, I can promise you that they will be hurt and untrusting of what you say. It is up to your partner if they want to see a therapist or do anything - we cannot control other people's thoughts, actions, or anything. Stop trying to tell someone else how they should feel or what they should do. A relationship will only be strong through incarceration and beyond if both people are fully committed to making it work - for better or for worse.
Financials: Our crimes put others into financial uncertainty. There's the cost of our defense, our restitution, the government's rights to our assets, etc. Work with a financial expert/attorney to protect the household finances as much as possible - in a legal way. Don't put all the pressure on your partner/spouse to figure it all out. Also, don't get mad if your partner/spouse makes a financial decision you don't agree with. Remember, no one is perfect and everyone gets overwhelmed when it comes to finances. Whatever loss you end up with is not as important as the people in your life. Things can be replaced, people cannot. Put aside your ego and your need to live a certain lifestyle. Once you are out of prison, you will have the opportunity to build a new life with your partner/spouse. There is no way to go back to before your incarceration, so let the "things" go.
Don't "cheat" on your partner/spouse: This is physical or emotional "cheating." For the time that you are apart, find hobbies, education, family members, work, etc. to keep yourself busy. It does not need to be a time of loneliness, if you have each other by communication and other things to occupy your time. Consider relationships that last while one person is in the military overseas or where someone has a very demanding job. What matters is that they trust one another - and that is especially true when it comes to the commitment you have for one another.
Love: The is the most important item. Make sure you tell each other that you "love" them every time you talk. It may be difficult at times, when things are going uneasy or you don't agree with a decision they made, but your love is the number one connection you will have throughout the imprisonment. If you aren't sure you "love" the person, then there is not a lot that can be done to save the relationship while one partner is incarcerated. Absence can either "make the heart grow stronger," or it can lead to "out of sight, out of mind." Whichever way you are going, honesty continues to be the best policy. If you know before the person goes to prison that things aren't working out, don't just pretend out of guilt, it will just make things really bad when the person leaves.
Well, I'm sure there's a lot more advice myself and others can give, but the most important thing is to be your best person every day, even through the hard days. Your strength will bind you together.
Happy Valentine's Day to everyone trying to maintain a healthy relationship while incarcerated! It may be difficult, but most of you will have many more years together on the outside, than the years that separate you for now.
Happy Valentine's Day, also, to all my friends and family. I love you all!
From Dragonfly: 4 1/2 Hours
There are many ways to spend 4 1/2 hours here. I could be reading a book. I could be helping students with their studies. I could be making a new locker organizer. I could be sleeping. The one way I do not like spending 4 1/2 hours is sitting in the clinic waiting room to be called.
I woke up early today to go to sick call. I had three reasons: 1) I wanted to get the results of my labs from January; 2) I wanted to see if my restrictions are updated from my trip to the rheumatologist; and 3) I had to renew most of my prescriptions. So, I had to be at the clinic around 6 a.m. My blood pressure was taken at 6:45 a.m. My name was called to see the Physicians Assistant at 10:30 a.m. I missed the entire morning of work. I spent my time in the clinic reading a "Reader's Digest." Then I did some crosswords. I also read several chapters of a book of fiction that a fellow inmate wants edited. Finally, I just closed my eyes and tried to relax.
The sights and sounds of the clinic are nothing great. The sounds are mostly people speaking quick spanish to one another. There are a couple posters on the wall about flu v. cold and protecting yourself against HIV/AIDS. I've read them more times than I can remember. There's also a display about the inmate co-pay program. Since I was attending sick call, I would be responsible for paying $2. It was deducted from my account before I was even seen.
My $2 got me 5 minutes with my assigned P.A. who would not give me the results of my labs, would not update my restrictions, but was more than willing to renew my medications (without asking me any questions about how I'm feeling or if they are working). In fact, my methotraxate labs were low, which is weird because I've been on methotrexate for over a year now, but no adjustments were made. The PA informed me that the rheumatologist has not yet sent over any detailed notes of our appointment. After nearly a month, something tells me that she may not. So, after 4 1/2 hours, I left the clinic with no new answers and just a sore butt from the blue uncomfortable benches.
It was only my second full sick-call, and I think I will make it my last. My last time there was no more successful than today's. Yet, it is the only way to be seen by a medical provider. I dear not mention that I'm having increased fatigue, or that my right hand hurts in a new way, or that my back has been hurting. I know these things only make things worse here for inmates. I can handle the pain. I just want to get out. I just want to go home. I know, once I am home, I will NEVER complain again about the wait to see a medical provider. At least I know, the wait will provide me with something of value.
I woke up early today to go to sick call. I had three reasons: 1) I wanted to get the results of my labs from January; 2) I wanted to see if my restrictions are updated from my trip to the rheumatologist; and 3) I had to renew most of my prescriptions. So, I had to be at the clinic around 6 a.m. My blood pressure was taken at 6:45 a.m. My name was called to see the Physicians Assistant at 10:30 a.m. I missed the entire morning of work. I spent my time in the clinic reading a "Reader's Digest." Then I did some crosswords. I also read several chapters of a book of fiction that a fellow inmate wants edited. Finally, I just closed my eyes and tried to relax.
The sights and sounds of the clinic are nothing great. The sounds are mostly people speaking quick spanish to one another. There are a couple posters on the wall about flu v. cold and protecting yourself against HIV/AIDS. I've read them more times than I can remember. There's also a display about the inmate co-pay program. Since I was attending sick call, I would be responsible for paying $2. It was deducted from my account before I was even seen.
My $2 got me 5 minutes with my assigned P.A. who would not give me the results of my labs, would not update my restrictions, but was more than willing to renew my medications (without asking me any questions about how I'm feeling or if they are working). In fact, my methotraxate labs were low, which is weird because I've been on methotrexate for over a year now, but no adjustments were made. The PA informed me that the rheumatologist has not yet sent over any detailed notes of our appointment. After nearly a month, something tells me that she may not. So, after 4 1/2 hours, I left the clinic with no new answers and just a sore butt from the blue uncomfortable benches.
It was only my second full sick-call, and I think I will make it my last. My last time there was no more successful than today's. Yet, it is the only way to be seen by a medical provider. I dear not mention that I'm having increased fatigue, or that my right hand hurts in a new way, or that my back has been hurting. I know these things only make things worse here for inmates. I can handle the pain. I just want to get out. I just want to go home. I know, once I am home, I will NEVER complain again about the wait to see a medical provider. At least I know, the wait will provide me with something of value.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
From Dragonfly: Seeing the Differences
Yesterday, I received several pieces of mail. Some were Valentine's cards, others were letters. I continue to be so grateful to everyone back home who continues the regular communication with me. One friend writes me at least weekly and tells me the tales about her life and watching her baby grow. Another, sends me cards nearly every week that are funny and bring a smile not just to my face, but to those around me. Some friends include stickers on their letters/envelopes. Some want me to write back (I will try). Mail call continues to be a highlight of my days.
The thing is, though, that my daily highlights used to be SO much bigger. I used to present important research and ideas to academics. I used to help students through a syllabus they helped build. I used to write research papers, conduct qualitative and quantitative research projects, and travel. I used to be an academic and my highlights were finding out that something was accepted to a conference or a journal. My highlights were learning a new concept that just made so much sense. My highlights were figuring out a statistical idea that had confused me. My highlights were spending time with top academics from their fields and learning amazing things and listening to amazing stories.
My days used to consist of reading, writing, asking questions, and being professional. My days, here, consist of smelling spoiled milk, trying to get a nap in during lunch time, getting a banana, and stitching yarn into a plastic canvas. I know there's still good I do - including my work with the GED students and teaching ACE classes, however, it is not the atmosphere I grew used to at school and, specifically, at a research university.
Yesterday's mail included a letter from one of my good friends back home. I asked all my friends to keep me updated about their lives; even though I am here, I want them to share life out there. I am so glad she wrote the truth, because the letter was all about the juggling she is doing with classes, academic and research projects, work, fellowship, and more. She is in the final academic year before she is on her dissertation full time. It's the life I would have been living this year, had I not been incarcerated. I read the paragraph three times, and then I read it to my friends. So much of the language is distant to me while I'm incarcerated, "pedagogy," "research," "fellowship," "dissertation," "professor," "guidance committee," "advisor," etc. I read it out loud because for the moment, I was just amazed at how fast my life can change. My words here consist of: "banana," "toilet paper," "cleaning," "bull dagger," "baby daddy," "family," "ice," "transfer," "home," "camp," "cheese cake," and "mail." There is not much academic about my current experience, except for the observations of living it.
I hope my friends continue to write me about the reality of their lives. Until yesterday, I'd almost forgotten what it was like being a PhD student. I'm glad my friend brought me back into it, because it gives me increased motivation to find my way back into it. I've been studying from a GRE study guide, in preparation for taking a new GRE upon my release. I will watch all my cohort friends graduate, likely, while I may be still trying to get back into school. I'm proud of them and it will just motivate me that much more. I, also, know, that this experience will make me an even better student and a stronger person.
The thing is, though, that my daily highlights used to be SO much bigger. I used to present important research and ideas to academics. I used to help students through a syllabus they helped build. I used to write research papers, conduct qualitative and quantitative research projects, and travel. I used to be an academic and my highlights were finding out that something was accepted to a conference or a journal. My highlights were learning a new concept that just made so much sense. My highlights were figuring out a statistical idea that had confused me. My highlights were spending time with top academics from their fields and learning amazing things and listening to amazing stories.
My days used to consist of reading, writing, asking questions, and being professional. My days, here, consist of smelling spoiled milk, trying to get a nap in during lunch time, getting a banana, and stitching yarn into a plastic canvas. I know there's still good I do - including my work with the GED students and teaching ACE classes, however, it is not the atmosphere I grew used to at school and, specifically, at a research university.
Yesterday's mail included a letter from one of my good friends back home. I asked all my friends to keep me updated about their lives; even though I am here, I want them to share life out there. I am so glad she wrote the truth, because the letter was all about the juggling she is doing with classes, academic and research projects, work, fellowship, and more. She is in the final academic year before she is on her dissertation full time. It's the life I would have been living this year, had I not been incarcerated. I read the paragraph three times, and then I read it to my friends. So much of the language is distant to me while I'm incarcerated, "pedagogy," "research," "fellowship," "dissertation," "professor," "guidance committee," "advisor," etc. I read it out loud because for the moment, I was just amazed at how fast my life can change. My words here consist of: "banana," "toilet paper," "cleaning," "bull dagger," "baby daddy," "family," "ice," "transfer," "home," "camp," "cheese cake," and "mail." There is not much academic about my current experience, except for the observations of living it.
I hope my friends continue to write me about the reality of their lives. Until yesterday, I'd almost forgotten what it was like being a PhD student. I'm glad my friend brought me back into it, because it gives me increased motivation to find my way back into it. I've been studying from a GRE study guide, in preparation for taking a new GRE upon my release. I will watch all my cohort friends graduate, likely, while I may be still trying to get back into school. I'm proud of them and it will just motivate me that much more. I, also, know, that this experience will make me an even better student and a stronger person.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
From Dragonfly: Sleeping In
At home, if we sleep through our alarm clocks, we wake up slowly, look at the time and suddenly jump to our feet knowing we are late for something. Well, the same is certainly true here in prison.
Tuesday mornings, this quarter, is my commissary shopping day. Due to my job in education, I am required to shop between 6-7am, and must be there by 6:10am in order for my sheet to be taken on the "work detail" side of the line. Work detail has their shopping first, so that we can be at work on time at 7:30am.
Last night I set my watch alarm for 5:35am. I had my clothing already out at the end of my bed. I had my full commissary sheet filled out and my grey shoulder bag ready to carry my commissary back to the unit. When 6am hit, I would be out the doors of my unit and by 6:07, I would be standing in the work detail line. I would have time to spare.
Well, today I must have turned off my alarm in my sleep, because I jumped up at the sound of the morning announcement, "attention housing inmates, male and female staff routinely work in and visit inmate housing areas." Well, that meant it was 6am. I probably slurred something bad under my breath, as I threw off my shorts and on my work pants, grabbed a hair band, my sweatshirt, my i.d., and my commissary sheet and bag, and headed for the door. It was 6:07am when I left and I was already running late.
Commissary is down in the basement of the medical/main building, next to our chow hall. It is located either at or close to where the morgue was when this was officially a military hospital. The way commissary works is that we each get a "commissary sheet." It lists all the items for sale with their prices (although prices change much more often than the sheet is updated). In advance, we sit down with a pencil and highlighter, and start putting "1," "2," "3," or "4" next to the items we wish to purchase. A rare item, like packets of ranch dressing, allows us to put a "10" next to it. That's how many we wish to purchase. All items have some limit on how many you can purchase at a time. Once we feel good about our list, we have to go through and highlight the items that we are purchasing, or the actual "shoppers" may miss that item on the long list - that is 3 pages in total.
We stand in line to hand in our lists. The guard comes by at 6:10/6:15 for the first pick-up. Then he picks up again about 20-30 minutes later and then again at 7am. The same routine occurs at lunch time, but being work detail, I am not allowed to do my commissary over my lunch. Once our sheet is picked up, and they've looked at our i.d. to see that we are giving our own sheet AND that it is our proper day to shop (1/4 of the people go each day), then we are left to sit against the walls in the hallway and wait for our name to be called. Most people sit on these really uncomfortable guard rails that are way too low to the ground and too close to the wall to ever be comfortable. My knees don't bend enough for the rail, so I sit my butt right down on the tiled ground and lean in to the rail. It works.
As work detail, they take our sheets only during the first round and we are called on first. I was about 20 people back in the work detail line and my name of called to go to the window at 6:30am. If I were forced to be in the regular line, I would have likely been over 100 people back and my name would not be called until after 7am, sometimes after 7:30am. Those folks give their lists and then head on to breakfast, but if you miss your name being called, you get no commissary for the week.
My commissary list included some of my staples: rice crackers (for peanut butter and jelly), a packet of tuna, a package of m&m's, relish (for the tuna), cheese crackers (for snacking), a 6-pack of Sprite, a bar of olive soap, three sheets of plastic canvas, batteries (for my book light), a pint of ice cream for me and Lola later, etc. I had about $40 in commissary purchases on my list. At the window, I received about $30 of the purchases. They gave me no batteries, no soap, no plastic canvas, and were out of other things as well. That's how it goes. You write what you want, but they are out of many of the items you write in.
When my name is called to the window, it is a small room like at a Western Union, with plastic glass windows and a small hole to speak through. There is also a conveyor belt that drops things in front of you on a small platform. Once my thumb print is accepted, the purchases start coming down the conveyor and I have to pick them up quickly and put them in the bag I brought. It is not until I am back at my unit that I actually have time to look and see what I was and wasn't given. A new commissary sheet is always in the pile, so we have a clean one to use next week.
Since I slept in today, I had to squish the purchases into my already overflowing 3' locker and then get ready for work. I made my bed. Got myself dressed in real work clothing. But still ran out the door, buttoning up my shirt, and throwing on my sweatshirt, so I could have a couple minutes to email before work. Sleeping in on commissary day is not the best way to start my day!
Tuesday mornings, this quarter, is my commissary shopping day. Due to my job in education, I am required to shop between 6-7am, and must be there by 6:10am in order for my sheet to be taken on the "work detail" side of the line. Work detail has their shopping first, so that we can be at work on time at 7:30am.
Last night I set my watch alarm for 5:35am. I had my clothing already out at the end of my bed. I had my full commissary sheet filled out and my grey shoulder bag ready to carry my commissary back to the unit. When 6am hit, I would be out the doors of my unit and by 6:07, I would be standing in the work detail line. I would have time to spare.
Well, today I must have turned off my alarm in my sleep, because I jumped up at the sound of the morning announcement, "attention housing inmates, male and female staff routinely work in and visit inmate housing areas." Well, that meant it was 6am. I probably slurred something bad under my breath, as I threw off my shorts and on my work pants, grabbed a hair band, my sweatshirt, my i.d., and my commissary sheet and bag, and headed for the door. It was 6:07am when I left and I was already running late.
Commissary is down in the basement of the medical/main building, next to our chow hall. It is located either at or close to where the morgue was when this was officially a military hospital. The way commissary works is that we each get a "commissary sheet." It lists all the items for sale with their prices (although prices change much more often than the sheet is updated). In advance, we sit down with a pencil and highlighter, and start putting "1," "2," "3," or "4" next to the items we wish to purchase. A rare item, like packets of ranch dressing, allows us to put a "10" next to it. That's how many we wish to purchase. All items have some limit on how many you can purchase at a time. Once we feel good about our list, we have to go through and highlight the items that we are purchasing, or the actual "shoppers" may miss that item on the long list - that is 3 pages in total.
We stand in line to hand in our lists. The guard comes by at 6:10/6:15 for the first pick-up. Then he picks up again about 20-30 minutes later and then again at 7am. The same routine occurs at lunch time, but being work detail, I am not allowed to do my commissary over my lunch. Once our sheet is picked up, and they've looked at our i.d. to see that we are giving our own sheet AND that it is our proper day to shop (1/4 of the people go each day), then we are left to sit against the walls in the hallway and wait for our name to be called. Most people sit on these really uncomfortable guard rails that are way too low to the ground and too close to the wall to ever be comfortable. My knees don't bend enough for the rail, so I sit my butt right down on the tiled ground and lean in to the rail. It works.
As work detail, they take our sheets only during the first round and we are called on first. I was about 20 people back in the work detail line and my name of called to go to the window at 6:30am. If I were forced to be in the regular line, I would have likely been over 100 people back and my name would not be called until after 7am, sometimes after 7:30am. Those folks give their lists and then head on to breakfast, but if you miss your name being called, you get no commissary for the week.
My commissary list included some of my staples: rice crackers (for peanut butter and jelly), a packet of tuna, a package of m&m's, relish (for the tuna), cheese crackers (for snacking), a 6-pack of Sprite, a bar of olive soap, three sheets of plastic canvas, batteries (for my book light), a pint of ice cream for me and Lola later, etc. I had about $40 in commissary purchases on my list. At the window, I received about $30 of the purchases. They gave me no batteries, no soap, no plastic canvas, and were out of other things as well. That's how it goes. You write what you want, but they are out of many of the items you write in.
When my name is called to the window, it is a small room like at a Western Union, with plastic glass windows and a small hole to speak through. There is also a conveyor belt that drops things in front of you on a small platform. Once my thumb print is accepted, the purchases start coming down the conveyor and I have to pick them up quickly and put them in the bag I brought. It is not until I am back at my unit that I actually have time to look and see what I was and wasn't given. A new commissary sheet is always in the pile, so we have a clean one to use next week.
Since I slept in today, I had to squish the purchases into my already overflowing 3' locker and then get ready for work. I made my bed. Got myself dressed in real work clothing. But still ran out the door, buttoning up my shirt, and throwing on my sweatshirt, so I could have a couple minutes to email before work. Sleeping in on commissary day is not the best way to start my day!
From Dragonfly: Goodbye South
South is currently in R&D, getting her DNA and thumbprint taken, and then she will walk out of the prison fences for the last time. She has a smile on her face, a small bag of everything she is taking home with her, and will be on a bus sometime later this morning. She promised that if the bus ride is bad, she will take a cab to the nearest airport and buy a ticket home. She is free!!!
South has been my number one support since I arrived here a week after her. She understood me, and I understood her. She is sarcastic, fun, interesting, strong, intelligent, capable, and sincere. She was someone many people, here, called "grandma," due to her grey/silver hair. She stands at about 100 lbs and 5 ft tall. She always called me "little one," but in reality, she is the 'little one.' We have a special bond, having gotten each other through the hardest of days here, and it's one that does not sever just because she is leaving. I know we will see one another again in the future. I will not say that about too many folks here.
I guess this makes today another landmark. It is South's and Freckle's 6 month anniversary of their arrival. Freckles will leave late this year, after she finishes the RDAP program (which got her an extra 9 months of halfway house post-program). My 6 months will be a week from today. We were talking about whether it goes slow or fast. I put it in these words, "each day feels like forever, and each week an eternity, but when we look back, it's all gone by so fast. It's the living of each day that is difficult." They all agreed. South will be walking back into her life at home just 6 months after she left it. I told her to tell everyone that she was at "fat camp" (she's never been more than 102 lbs.) and say it worked!
South didn't belong here. Her supposed 'crime' should have been handled civilly. But, in a very selfish way, I am so grateful to have served my time along with her. I hope that I can be as strong as she is when I grow older. She has taught me a lot, things that I will carry forward with me throughout my life. Perhaps one day I will make a quilt (her favorite hobby), and I will know it is because of the passion for quilting she brought into my life. That's just the way she is - she can talk about things she loves and suddenly you feel like you love them too. South is a very special woman. As so many people said to her this morning, as we walked to the R&D doors, "god-speed" my friend, god-speed!
South has been my number one support since I arrived here a week after her. She understood me, and I understood her. She is sarcastic, fun, interesting, strong, intelligent, capable, and sincere. She was someone many people, here, called "grandma," due to her grey/silver hair. She stands at about 100 lbs and 5 ft tall. She always called me "little one," but in reality, she is the 'little one.' We have a special bond, having gotten each other through the hardest of days here, and it's one that does not sever just because she is leaving. I know we will see one another again in the future. I will not say that about too many folks here.
I guess this makes today another landmark. It is South's and Freckle's 6 month anniversary of their arrival. Freckles will leave late this year, after she finishes the RDAP program (which got her an extra 9 months of halfway house post-program). My 6 months will be a week from today. We were talking about whether it goes slow or fast. I put it in these words, "each day feels like forever, and each week an eternity, but when we look back, it's all gone by so fast. It's the living of each day that is difficult." They all agreed. South will be walking back into her life at home just 6 months after she left it. I told her to tell everyone that she was at "fat camp" (she's never been more than 102 lbs.) and say it worked!
South didn't belong here. Her supposed 'crime' should have been handled civilly. But, in a very selfish way, I am so grateful to have served my time along with her. I hope that I can be as strong as she is when I grow older. She has taught me a lot, things that I will carry forward with me throughout my life. Perhaps one day I will make a quilt (her favorite hobby), and I will know it is because of the passion for quilting she brought into my life. That's just the way she is - she can talk about things she loves and suddenly you feel like you love them too. South is a very special woman. As so many people said to her this morning, as we walked to the R&D doors, "god-speed" my friend, god-speed!