Cleaning House

I still need to organize my room. I still have boxes of I don't know what packed in storage. I still have the stuff I shipped home from Carswell in the box. Three weeks home and I've done almost nothing on making my space feel like home. Maybe I'm stuck in a rut.

Best way to get out of a rut?? Make a goal, a reasonable one, and stick with it. For me, that means putting each step into my calendar for the day I am to do it. By the end of July 4th weekend, I will have my room set up how I want it, my things put in their respective places, and all necessary things unpacked (some boxes are just going to stay in storage for a while... three people living in a not-so-big townhouse). This gives me a week to accomplish these tasks. Maybe all I need is to know I'm off home confinement to really get moving.

Today, we have a house cleaner doing some deep cleaning. That will be good motivation for me to get my stuff organized. In fact, I already started, as I needed to clean up for the cleaning lady (isn't that an oxymoron?). I believe a house cleaner should spend their time doing deep cleaning, not moving piles of stuff around to be able to dust.

So, I look forward to accomplishing my home goals. I have a lot to look forward to when I'm off home confinement, I certainly don't want to come home to an unorganized mess. Maybe I should stop this blog post and unpack that box over there...

Furlough

I am sitting at Au Bon Pain at DFW airport eating a toasted bagel with cream cheese. It's the first bagel I've enjoyed in 10 months. I have about an hour until I take off. My morning was full of emotions, and, yet, now I'm here. I'm on furlough to the RRC (halfway house). Legally, I'm still in custody.

Sleep was difficult last night - but I did get 4-5 hours. At 5:30am, I got up and started getting ready - change out of a pair of grey shorts and t-shirt into a different clean and ironed grey shorts and t-shirt. Pack my last minute items - book light, pillow cover, book, water bottle, and attempt to zipper my bag. People came to me and hugged me, wishing me luck. I stood with the Third one, waiting for the announcement that food service is open - announced at 6:05am, which is when we are allowed to leave the unit.

Taz walked with me and Freckles met us outside. I could already tell that Freckles would cry - happy tears. We've literally gotten each other through this experience. She'll be leaving in just over a month - so she's right behind me. Unfortunately, Taz still has a couple years.

Taz stood at the line with my overflowing grey bag, while I went down to the chow hall with Freckles. Two bites of a bad bagel and about 10oz. of mile and I got up to go back to the line - anxiety was hitting me. Taz took off to get some breakfast and I stood in like with Freckles, Red, and the Third one. People kept walking by and at least one of us was being hugged. A lot of "don't come back!" was uttered.

Another wait as the mail line started to form behind us - and then we heard keys. An officer held our files and called us to follow him to R&D. I hugged Freckles and Taz one last time and down the hall I went. It was only my second time in R&D. The lock-up cells lining the left wall. I remembered back to my first day and sitting there with Chi as we were processed in.

As we walked in, the officer opened a cell and told Red to have a seat on the concrete built-in bench. He closed the door and locked it. She has a detainer from her home city and we didn't know if they'd come and pick her up or let her come home first. For months, she's been trying to get an answer. She has young kids at home and is needed there. We prayed she'd be busing out today. She gave me her mother-in-laws (MIL) phone number just in case the Marshall's did come for her.

The Third one and I got processed - another thumb print, signatures, see if my clothes arrived (nope!!), etc. I peaked through the cell window at Red when I could. I hated that she sat in that room alone and no one knew yet if she would be going home or with the Marshalls.

When the Third one was being processed out, the paperwork had a big mistake - she's supposed to be flying out - but in her pocket they'd showed she was busing it - for like 3 days. Even I know that she was supposed to fly - she's a care level 4 (the highest!). She got super mad, had "words" with the officer for a while. I felt powerless. Finally, the officer told us to follow him to the business office. I put my hand on Red's cell window, not knowing if I'd see her again.

About 7:15am, we went to the business office. They talked a long time and wah-lah, they found the Third one's plane ticket! Once again, have they never done their jobs before?

Freckled happened to walk by and so we got one more good hug in. She was waterwords this time. She will always be a good friend - we have South to thank for connecting us!

When I got up to the business office window, they handed me cash for my taxi and meals - $69, and a debit card with my personal balance $3.15! I can't even us and ATM to withdraw that amount. But, hey, it's like almost what I made my first month working in prison. It's valuable to me. The debit card is from the BOP, has my name on it, AND it has my prison photo!! The height chart behind me and all! That's something to be proud of - ha!!

Many of my former students came by to hug and thank me. I told them to continue learning, some to go to college. We exchanged warm hugs!

We walked back to R&D, past everyone in line for records, the mail room, and property. They watched us, with our grey bags - we were leaving. Lots of waves and "good luck" and we were back at R&D. Peeking in at Red, she motioned that she's not going home. I also heard the C.O.'s talking about waiting for the Marshalls to arrive. She is going to county to be picked up within 30 days to then be brought back to her home state and stand before a judge. I can only imagine what is going on in her head, but I was very sad. I don't like leaving someone I care about facing the unknown alone. She's strong (much stronger than me), though, and she'll pray and at least she'll be out of Cars-Hell! Good thing I have the number to call her MIL.

The C.O. then processed our medications - I received my seven self-carry meds for 30 days and, later, a large box with my enbryl on ice packs. Now, I had to squeeze the medication into my bag and start carrying the now pretty light but LARGE box, with no handle. The Third one had to help me stuff the medications in my grey bag. I received a cd of my medical records as well :-)

As we walked to the exit gate, Freckles was there once again - waving and screaming goodbye. What a friend!!!

I'm on the plane now - waiting for take-off. I had priority boarding and a window seat. Other than my dark greys, and see through grey bag, you'd never know I was a felon on furlough. Anyway, back to leaving.

We headed to the security office at the prison, received our envelopes with our cash and tickets and I was given my box of medication and we were then brought to a white van. the can is considered a "town car," and is driven by two women inmates from the camp. Nearly every day, their job consists of taking inmates who are leaving to the airport and bus terminals. Quite a different job than those available to us behind the fence.

We dropped a camp inmate who'd been down six years to the front gate first. Her family was supposed to pick her up at 7am. We were there at 8am and there was no sign of them. So, we had to leave her at the visitor's center. I hope she found her family!

We then started our drive out of Fort Worth, past Cowboy's Stadium, past Six Flags and Hurricane Harbor, and finally toward the airport. The Third one and I were each dropped at different terminals to catch our flights. Security is always a nightmare when carrying liquid medication. It can't go through the x-ray, so I have to ask for a hand search. My other stuff went through the x-ray and I go through the fancy machine where I have to put my hands over my head and it puts an image of me on a screen - all clear.

Then I am pulled to the secured area. I'm told I have to be pat down due to my needing a hand check. I say, "I know, no problem, been through that before." They don't know that just recently I learned the correct stand for a pat down. I turn around and put my arms out and she tells me that I should face her - okay, that didn't work at Carswell last week! As she does her pat down, she informs me of how and what she is doing at each step ("the back of my hand will now go under your breast"). Another thing that doesn't happen at Carswell. My body, my medication, and my bag are all cleared and the NTSB guy builds me a handle for my large box out of NTSB tape. Now, I don't have to use two hands to carry it. I thank him and find my way to the gate.

I called Red's MIL, but only get her voicemail. I left a message about the Marshalls, hating that I had to leave a message. I'll try calling again later.

The plane just took off and I'm flying out of Texas. My furlough ends in about five hours. I'll likely sleep through most of it. Thank god I brought my earplugs. Turns out a chatty-Cathy who is on her 2nd flight ever wants to tell her life story to her neighbor right behind me. I'm looking down on clouds.

The Last Night

Okay, I need to admit yet one more thing... going home didn't really hit me. Too many walls up in a place like this. I hoarded things - "what if I'll need this?" I held on to more clothes than needed. I had a bunch of "just in case" thoughts.

It didn't help tonight when I looked at the call-out sheet and I'm not listed for R&D tomorrow morning. None of us are. Someone really failed in their job. We were not on any of the usual "hey, you're leaving" call-outs. I'm only sad about that because across the fence, at the camp, Lola will not see that I'm leaving. The camp and prison share a call-out sheet. That's how I know when Lola and Chi went through camp orientation, that Chi got a job at the power plant, and that Lola is a camp orderly. I can kinda still keep tabs on my friends from afar. I know Lola is looking me up too. She won't know, yet, that I'm leaving.

So, Red, the Third one and I suspect we should be at R&D at 6am. They could come get us earlier or we can stand there for over an hour, no way of knowing. Doesn't matter, we are all leaving here tomorrow - one last line to stand in.

Tonight, I had dinner with Nurse. Others joined us at the table. Nurse made a spice noodle tuna soup concoction - sounds different - but I ate my part all up - YUM! Then, I sat with Mama and other friends and played a couple games of Canasta. A perfect wind-down. I, then, took a shower, for the last time in those prison showers, and got comfy.

People shared contact information with me - parents/spouses names and phone numbers, so I can check up on how they are doing. I shared my info as well. We aren't allowed to communicate, but it doesn't stop us from caring about one another.

I had some good talks with friends - Cali, Taz, Red, Bunkie, and others. They know I care. I know they do. Soon, I pray, it will be them going home. I gave my lock, a highlighter, and anything else I had left to give away to a new woman who has no financial support. She was grateful.

So all that, and I still didn't have a big smile on my face. I still didn't believe I'm leaving. Until... I threw away five pairs of cheap, nameless, tearing at the seams, stretch band coming off, white granny underwear!!! That one act got a huge smile on my face. I'm leaving and I can wear my cute hipsters once again! I am still carrying a couple pair with me, since I didn't get my out clothes, but, soon, those will be tossed as well.

So, what got me to fully realize I'm leaving is getting rid of the tighty whities. Who knew it could be so simple??

The Merry-Go-Round

I'm finally able to post, so there will be many blogs uploaded at the same time... hope they are informative and you enjoy the read:

5/27/14
It's the day before I leave Carswell, commonly referred to as "the merry-go-round." If you conjure up an image of happy people riding plastic animals with music and smiles, then you know nothing of the type of merry-go-round I am on. Perhaps if going in circles and up-and-down is the idea - then, yeah, it's a merry-go-round of sorts.

So, typically, my name would have been on the call-out sheet last night informing me to show up to Property today for my "pack-out." As we know, nothing has gone according to process, so why would this be any different - no one was called out, not me, not Red, not the Third woman in my unit also leaving. So, after breakfast with Freckles, I loaded my two boxes onto a card and walked to the property open house at 7am.

It's an open house, but no one was there. Instead, the staff woman was working in the mail room. A line formed - people waiting to pick up their property (transfers to Carswell from other institutions) and the three of us trying to pack out. About 7:45am, the staff member told everyone there would be no open house today due to a heavier need in the mail room (due to yesterday's holiday). I informed her that we need to pack out and she asked if we were on the call-out. We said, "no, but we leave tomorrow." Her eyes got big, "tomorrow?!?!?!?" It's as if no one has ever done their job before. So, she tells us to sit and wait, and wait, and wait.

Red goes to the counselor's office, meanwhile, to pick up our merry-go-round papers, since we were also supposed to be there at 7:45am. The counselor isn't there at 7:45, 8:00, 8:15... So, Red joins back up with us and goes about packing out, finally. It was quick and easy for her. Her clothing from home were here and everything she's taking fit into the backpack her family sent.

For me, of course, nightmare!! The woman takes one look at my two boxes and says, "we don't do that mailing!" Umm, really?!?! She tells me that I needed to send them out through my unit counselor. The same counselor who recently told me that he's not responsible for mailing out my stuff. I have a pocket full of stamps and all I want to do is mail my few things home that I can't carry with me. Okay, I'm a hoarder, slightly more than a few things. The staff member just keeps bitching about the boxes and I inform her that I just got my official date a week ago - I couldn't really take care of this stuff in advance.

So, not wanting to give in, she calls my unit manager to complain that she has to do this mail out. I'm not sure what he said back to her, but then I am told to inventory my stuff - including the stuff I'm carrying out - which I did not know to bring with. There's no manual on this stuff. Ugh.

So, I try my best to remember everything I'm carrying out (forgot a few items), and also inventory my boxes thoroughly as she looks to see I'm not taking anything not allowed home, and I have to fill out some mailing forms. I ask the P.O. Box for here and she literally snarls at me, "how long have you been here?" "Nine months," I reply. "And you don't know the address?" I tell her that I barely ever had to write it. She says, "you never write anyone?" I tell her that our envelopes already have the address. It didn't go well when I had to ask for the zip code a wee bit later.

Then, we walk 20 feet to the mail scale and weigh the boxes - 49 stamps on one, 75 stamps on the other. So, I get to work putting one stamp at a time on the boxes - rows of 10 stamps at first to keep my counting easier. The staff member opens the door to the mail room, and we put my packages in their rightful place. Umm, property is literally attached to the mail room, but she doesn't do mailings??

I ask about my out clothing that Sporty over-nighted to me on Thursday, costing me $40. Not here. Okay, I know it's here, but she does nothing to find it - so, I'm leaving in my greys. Now, they will have to mail my package back to me -- when they actually go and get it.

Finally packed out, I roll the empty card that I need to now return to the housing unit and try to find Red and the Third. I catch them coming off the elevator - still the counselor is out. It's after 9am and we can no nothing without that paper. The paper lists 12 places we need to go to in the institution and have signed - psychology, med records, legal records, R&D, education, safety, business office, laundry, etc. We are told that they throw the sheet out at the end, but I still go about wanting to do it. I mostly follow rules and all three of us do choose to follow this one. So, we sat outside (closed move) to figure out how we go about getting our form if the counselor fails to show.

I'm still pulling the now empty cart and find my way into my housing unit to drop it off, but I get locked inside. My case manager comes by and I tell her about not being able to get the form from the counselor. Wah-lah - she talks with another case worker, who takes about 2 minutes to print out copies of the form for all of us. Yay, we can officially start the process!

The Third and I choose to take our clothes to laundry first, but no one was there to go through it, so a staff member told us to put our bags behind the door and come back later - okay. Then we go to the business office, where we fill out a form with our exit addresses - just in case money comes in for us (not likely in my part). We go to institutional records and get screamed at for knocking on the door, but someone signs the form without even looking to see if we have any detainers - really??? Why do they require this merry-go-round if people don't even look us up?

It's about that time with the Third one says, "let me see your sheet." I show it to her and she crinkles it into a tight ball. I looked at her with a crazy look, "what are you doing???" Turns out there is a superstition here that if your merry-go-round paper is all wrinkles and torn, it means you will not come back. It's well known, as not less than six more people throughout the morning crinkled up my paper. The OCD in me went off the charts - trying to reflatten it out!!

After we finished with records, we went to medical records. The way they are supposed to work is that we fill out a cop-out to get a copy of our med records. Weeks later, we are called in to receive the copy. I have been requesting my records since February and never received them. I brought a copy of my cop-out that showed that they said they would provide them to me, but still, they said, "no." to our getting our records. They gave us an address to write and request them. I explained that I have a doctor appointment this week - required by the BOP, and they need my records. The woman goes into the office (we are forced to have these conversations in the main building hallway), and then a man with even more attitude comes out. He doesn't believe I must have my medical records this week. I tell him that he call call my case manager for confirmation. I show him the cop-out they sent me. Finally, he goes back into the office, and then he comes out and says my file will have a cd with the records for me to take. I pray it's there tomorrow when I leave. Nothing goes easy here - nothing!!

Next step, education. Door is locked, so we have to wait. The Third one needs to talk to the Chaplain next door. We run into Red, who is taking care of her merry-go-round on her own. Meanwhile, we see the entire high rise housing unit being emptied. Is is a shake down? A fire drill? We are told that we need to go outside and join all the other inmates on the lawn - the staff is running an emergency drill. It takes a good 30+ minutes for full drill to happen. We stand in humid 90 degree heat, with the majority of the other inmates.

Once allowed back into the building, we go back to education for their signature. No love lost between me and that place, but I will always be grateful for the experience. 11am, I go back to my housing unit to await being called for lunch. I meet up with Freckles for our last meal together. I am not getting dinner here tonight, I'm having tuna with Nurse. Freckles and I toasted to "lifelong friends" and ate a decent meal of chicken salad, cottage cheese, cold noodle salad, a water beverages.

Freckles decided to join me on the rest of my merry-go-round. We start at laundry, where I am accused of not bringing my pillow earlier, then to psychology, I catch safety in the hallway, and finally we go to the Lieutenants office. For the first time ever, I had to sit and wait on the infamous blue benches (outside the Lieutenants office, where everyone in trouble has to go). We wait about 20 minutes, but finally I get someone to sign my form. My form fully filled out and signed, I bring it back to the case manager about 12:30pm. I was heading to my room to change into my greys and relax when Red reminded me that I have my 1:45pm injection. It's Tuesday, not Monday, so I totally forgot. So grateful she reminded me - stay in my uniform for another hour.

I started writing this in my unit at 12:30pm, but now it's 2:10 pm and I'm sitting in the clinic waiting for my name to be called for my last injection at Carswell - the only kind of "shot" I received. It really is possible to stay out of real trouble while locked up!

The clinic is pretty packed for an afternoon. As always, people are talking about when they will leave - November, next year, 5 more years, I hear. People talk to loud, it's impossible not to eavesdrop. A woman I know with a life sentence for murder, sits nearby. She likes me and hopes I have a good life. Some say she's confessed to her crime - she told me an hour long story, recently, about her innocence. I don't pretend to know the truth - she's considered a "famous" inmate - books/tv shows about her. To me, she's just a very sad and bitter older woman. Her biggest worry, she tells me constantly, is that her 40 year old son is not yet married. She has asked me if I will play 'matchmaker' for him on the outside.

My injection is now down and I'm outside sitting on "lovers row." Twenty-four blue benches next to one another on either side of a wide sidewalk. I guess early mornings and nights, couples make-out and try to get away with hidden touches here. It's 2:30pm right now and about 40 women are sitting here waiting for the next open move. No kissing or touching that I can see. Some are sitting along, some having conversations with friends - 18 to 80 year olds sharing the same benches. Some people in wheelchairs, some walkers, come canes. Officers are all over, getting fresh air and enjoying the cooler breeze that has come over the compound.

There's a landscaping inmate employee weeding the small flower gardens by the units. She seems perfectly happy working by herself, her hands getting dirty, adding beauty to this place. Another inmate is sweeping the sidewalk in a unit doorway. The sidewalks need to be cleaned many times per day. The pigeons sit above and their droppings cover that area. Just two days ago, I watched a woman get slammed on her shirt with pigeon droppings. Well, that's good luck for her, I suppose.

The officer in charge of my unit is outside, getting off on catching people trying to go toward the units early or exit out the door he left unlocked. While he is at one set of doors, women take a run for trying to get to other doors without being caught. This game the C.O. is playing is of his own making - usually, we stand by the doors until open move. Today, you can get in trouble for doing so. The rules change based on C.O. and people left to try to figure out the rules of the day. We are all set up to fail.

I'm going to spend most of tonight just relaxing. I didn't sleep well last night. My head is full of thoughts. I may be done with the institutional merry-go-round, but the circles of thought will stay going in circles in my head.

From Dragonfly: A Last Hurrah

Well, my friends didn't listen, so they are still going full speed ahead with a party for me tonight. We are starting with pictures at 6:45pm, followed by a cheesecake. I think Freckles is bringing me a fruit salad, because she knows it's what I want. ha. I'm not really going to say "goodbye" to anyone, I still have two more days and a wake-up, but we will just sit and enjoy each other's company, perhaps watch the big kickball game happening on the field (until the humidity says I should go inside).

Tomorrow will be my last day of having email and phone. They turn them off as part of the merry-go-round I'll have to do on Tuesday. I'll dress in my khaki's for one last time and go around with a slip of paper to every major office on the compound, getting signatures, saying I'm "released" to go. I hear they just throw away the forms, so I don't know why the ritual is so important, but I'll do it. Others tell me they won't. I'm still a rule follower - at least most of the time!!!

I just had my last "laundry war," as I did my last load while I'm here. Someone moved my clothes to the dryer early and then tried to take my stuff out of the dryer before they were dry. Luckily, I caught them in the act, and my clothes stayed in. Someone I know will wash my dark greys on Tuesday, so I can wear them to R&D on Wednesday and also have them for pj's on Wednesday night in the halfway house. I literally used my very last scoop of Tide. At least my pillow case will smell fresh for my last couple of days here.

I'm about to go to the rec center and meet up with Freckles. We will do a Jillian Michael's workout. We did a beginner step workout yesterday - I prefer the Michael's workouts more. I may also do "Pilate's for Dummies," which is a good stretch and shape as well. There are like 194 videos to choose from - a good amount of different types of workouts. For me, I stick to the beginner and low intensity level, I can't jump, run, hop, etc.

So, it'll be a good day. I am still smiling. My last weekend day in prison. I hope everyone I hurt can see that I've paid my consequences. They wanted me in prison. I did prison. I hope everyone lets the past go and moves forward with their lives.