This is not going to be the most academic view of what it means to be a feminist in prison, but it's time that I reveal some of the thoughts I have about some of the things I see. One who is a feminist may think that a community entirely women-oriented would be a wonderful place for budding feminism. This is certainly not the case here.
I can't remember if I wrote about this before, but one night in my room, my bunkie was talking about how her girlfriend pissed her off and so she hit her. I was not part of the conversation, having been lost in the world of a good book, but I spoke up at that moment and said, "you hit her?" She said, "yes" and that sometimes it is the right thing to do. I then said, "it is never okay to hit a woman." My other two roomies disagreed with me and said that they believe that sometimes, someone deserves to be hit - especially someone we are dating. I spoke up and said, "okay, let's please talk about something else. My little feminist brain can't handle any more of this conversation. It is NEVER okay to hit a woman. It is never okay to hit someone we are dating. I've participated in countless activities to stop this kind of domestic violence." They stopped and moved on to a different topic. I laid in my bed, wondering, where in the world had we all gone wrong that women actually think it's okay to hit their female partners.
The thing is, I've seen too many "couples" get into physical fights here. The next day, after swearing they'll never go back with that person, the person abused goes right back to the relationship. I've seen fat lips, bruised arms, knotted heads, black eyes, as well as heard all the made-up excuses: "my locker did it," "I fell out of bed," "I tripped on the sidewalk." Meanwhile, they cry to their closest friends about how ABC punched them because they accused them of cheating or how they both punched each other in the rage of a fight. This happens so often, that I've become desensitized to the reality.
I'm not exactly sure how to best understand my experience under any feminist pedagogy. So many women, here, do stand up for themselves. In a community where women outnumber the men about 95:5, the women still back down if a male enters the space. They treat male staff differently than female staff. They talk about them differently, too. They respect them differently.
Even when I try to speak up about these observations, people just stare at me. Even those educated around me, would probably not refer to themselves as feminists. If ever there was a place to build the ideals of feminism: such as being independent, standing up for oneself, believing that females and males are equal and deserve equal treatment, demanding for tolerance of diversity, this is the place I would think it possible. But, then again, we are all "broken" and away from our comfort zones. Perhaps, that makes us the women society always said we were. I don't know. Just wanted to share a couple thoughts.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
From Dragonfly: A Public Announcement
Yesterday, our friends were officially "released" from isolation after 4 days of being treated with high security in the SHU because their roommate was suspected of having the flu. Even though they did nothing wrong, they were treated the exact same in the SHU as any other person who has to go there for discipline. Their stories are scary and I'm so glad they are back out in general population. I was told by them that, now, they appreciate the "comforts" of being in general population - going outside, real mattresses, pillows, clothing, private toilets, etc. I shall remain grateful and hopeful that I never have to go through that experience.
However, the flu scare in the U.S. is not over. Two people from medical came to our unit to give a public announcement yesterday afternoon. I guess 12 people have died in Dallas from the current H1N1 flu outbreak. I hope all my loved ones chose to get the flu shot!!! The flu is also inside Carswell, although they admitted that none of the people isolated for having the flu have confirmed cases, they believe they have the flu based on symptomology. I'm not sure if they have to send out samples to the CDC or some health department.
As part of the announcement, they informed us that if we have not yet been vaccinated, that we can submit a "cop-out" to the clinic to get ourselves the flu vaccine. They had offered it to everyone in the Fall, but I think like 1/3 of the inmates refused the vaccine for various reasons. For me, I asked the nurse if I could take the vaccine based on my medication restrictions (including no live vaccines) and she handed me the "refusal" papers. From what I have heard, the flu vaccine is a "dead" vaccine and has no live cultures. But, I want someone here to tell me that it's okay for me to take it. So, when they opened for questions, I asked, "can I take the vaccine if I am not allowed any live vaccines?" The response, "send a cop-out to your doctor." Meaning, 'we will not make that decision.' I'm supposed to send a cop-out to my doctor, even though I have two other cop-outs to the same doctor and neither has been responded to... Being immunocompromised, I really, really can't fight off the flu, so if I am allowed the vaccine, I need to take it!!!
In other news, I know several people going home today. Two of them were roommates of mine in the bus stop. I remember my first days here, hearing that they had about six months left, and now they are headed to their halfway houses. I pray that I do not see them ever again - meaning they do not come back! Too many people are back here on parole violations. Just the other day, my roommate who has been incarcerated for 12 years, since she was 19 years old, told me that she only knows life inside prisons. She's a hustler. How will she be able to live a "clean" life on the outside? I pray that those walking out of prison today, never come back!
South learned, officially, that she will not be going home on her home confinement date, but rather she will have to max out. That makes her out date exactly one month from today. I'm frustrated that we are given all these dates, but in reality, so many people are forced to max out their time. I don't know why no one made the arrangements for her to be able to go home, but she still has to see someone about her travel arrangements, even though they are currently doing travel for people not leaving until March. Somehow, since her case worker left late last year, someone seems to have dropped the ball on her paperwork. The one good thing, though, is that they cannot keep her a day after February 10th. I will be counting down with her! Right now, 30 days and a wake-up!!
However, the flu scare in the U.S. is not over. Two people from medical came to our unit to give a public announcement yesterday afternoon. I guess 12 people have died in Dallas from the current H1N1 flu outbreak. I hope all my loved ones chose to get the flu shot!!! The flu is also inside Carswell, although they admitted that none of the people isolated for having the flu have confirmed cases, they believe they have the flu based on symptomology. I'm not sure if they have to send out samples to the CDC or some health department.
As part of the announcement, they informed us that if we have not yet been vaccinated, that we can submit a "cop-out" to the clinic to get ourselves the flu vaccine. They had offered it to everyone in the Fall, but I think like 1/3 of the inmates refused the vaccine for various reasons. For me, I asked the nurse if I could take the vaccine based on my medication restrictions (including no live vaccines) and she handed me the "refusal" papers. From what I have heard, the flu vaccine is a "dead" vaccine and has no live cultures. But, I want someone here to tell me that it's okay for me to take it. So, when they opened for questions, I asked, "can I take the vaccine if I am not allowed any live vaccines?" The response, "send a cop-out to your doctor." Meaning, 'we will not make that decision.' I'm supposed to send a cop-out to my doctor, even though I have two other cop-outs to the same doctor and neither has been responded to... Being immunocompromised, I really, really can't fight off the flu, so if I am allowed the vaccine, I need to take it!!!
In other news, I know several people going home today. Two of them were roommates of mine in the bus stop. I remember my first days here, hearing that they had about six months left, and now they are headed to their halfway houses. I pray that I do not see them ever again - meaning they do not come back! Too many people are back here on parole violations. Just the other day, my roommate who has been incarcerated for 12 years, since she was 19 years old, told me that she only knows life inside prisons. She's a hustler. How will she be able to live a "clean" life on the outside? I pray that those walking out of prison today, never come back!
South learned, officially, that she will not be going home on her home confinement date, but rather she will have to max out. That makes her out date exactly one month from today. I'm frustrated that we are given all these dates, but in reality, so many people are forced to max out their time. I don't know why no one made the arrangements for her to be able to go home, but she still has to see someone about her travel arrangements, even though they are currently doing travel for people not leaving until March. Somehow, since her case worker left late last year, someone seems to have dropped the ball on her paperwork. The one good thing, though, is that they cannot keep her a day after February 10th. I will be counting down with her! Right now, 30 days and a wake-up!!
Thursday, January 9, 2014
From Dragonfly: Can You Smell That?
There's a constant noise every morning at breakfast, "can you smell this for me?" Why? Because our milk comes in small, clear plastic pouches, that we use our teeth to open at a corner. Yes, it sounds weird, but it's a lot like a clear "Capri-sun" without the straw. The one problem, though, is that "often" the milk is spoiled.
We have to smell the milk to ensure that we are not about to drink spoiled milk. But, often, I have to have "back up" to ensure my smell is working well. Less frequently, the plastic of the pouch will actually have hardened milk on it - that's a sure sign that something is wrong!!! This happened to me with two pouches in a row this morning - ew!!! Then, the third pouch I received smelled rotten. Finally, on a fourth try, I got a nice, healthy pouch of unspoiled milk. I used more than half on my cereal and the little bit left in my cup. Most days, I try to have two pouches of milk (getting milk/dairy is the primary reason Freckles and I go to breakfast most mornings!), but with my bad-milk-luck this a.m., I didn't try to find another unspoiled milk.
Okay, I do admit that I am a bit compulsive about the freshness of my milk. There are many people who will drink milk well past the date on a carton back home. Not me, once the date hits, my milk is going down the drain, even if it doesn't smell bad. Now, after the experience of so much bad milk, here, I think I will be even more adamant to "smell" my milk before each use. That will probably be a bit "weird" at a restaurant or a friend's house (ha).
I can honestly say that I do not know why some of the milk is always bad and other milk is wonderfully fresh, here, when they seem to come out of the same batch from the kitchen. Perhaps the "pouches" are not as air tight as they need to be. Maybe the freshness date has long passed. Maybe it has sat outside the refrigerator for just a little too long. I don't know. But, I will always check my milk carefully, as drinking spoiled milk will not be a very good start to my day.
We have to smell the milk to ensure that we are not about to drink spoiled milk. But, often, I have to have "back up" to ensure my smell is working well. Less frequently, the plastic of the pouch will actually have hardened milk on it - that's a sure sign that something is wrong!!! This happened to me with two pouches in a row this morning - ew!!! Then, the third pouch I received smelled rotten. Finally, on a fourth try, I got a nice, healthy pouch of unspoiled milk. I used more than half on my cereal and the little bit left in my cup. Most days, I try to have two pouches of milk (getting milk/dairy is the primary reason Freckles and I go to breakfast most mornings!), but with my bad-milk-luck this a.m., I didn't try to find another unspoiled milk.
Okay, I do admit that I am a bit compulsive about the freshness of my milk. There are many people who will drink milk well past the date on a carton back home. Not me, once the date hits, my milk is going down the drain, even if it doesn't smell bad. Now, after the experience of so much bad milk, here, I think I will be even more adamant to "smell" my milk before each use. That will probably be a bit "weird" at a restaurant or a friend's house (ha).
I can honestly say that I do not know why some of the milk is always bad and other milk is wonderfully fresh, here, when they seem to come out of the same batch from the kitchen. Perhaps the "pouches" are not as air tight as they need to be. Maybe the freshness date has long passed. Maybe it has sat outside the refrigerator for just a little too long. I don't know. But, I will always check my milk carefully, as drinking spoiled milk will not be a very good start to my day.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
From Dragonfly: The Long and Short of It
It's been a good couple days at work. After not having a co-tutor since I was reassigned to a new teacher and classroom, a new woman started this week in her probationary period. When I was tutoring alone, it was nearly impossible to adequately meet the needs of all the students and to effectively get grading done and tracked timely. Putting the student's needs first often meant taking work back to my unit to grade or going several days with piles of assignments needing grading. But now, for two whole days, there are two of us helping students AND getting the grading done. At the end of each day, the "in" boxes are empty and the trays with graded assignments to go back to students are full. It is such satisfaction to see this change.
Plus, my new co-tutor is really nice, interesting, and intelligent. I'm going to call her Tall, because she is tall, like really, really tall. She is also thin. We make quite the team, with me at a mere 5' tall and overweight, and her tall, skinny body. I joked that we are the "long and short of it." It's true. Tall has wonderful ideas for the class and is really interested in helping the students succeed.
Tall was diagnosed with breast cancer, and had to come to Carswell to undergo treatment. I learned that, when it was discovered, she was at a stage 3. How absolutely frightening to have to face that while incarcerated. The good news, though, is that she is done with all her chemo/radiation and her outlook looks good. I mentioned to Tall that it seems that this place does a good job with people with breast cancer. She told me that she saw all her doctors on med-trips outside of Carswell and that she was seen by a true cancer specialist. If for some reason an appointment was missed, the doctor would be on the phone to Carswell telling them that they need to bring Tall right away. I'm so grateful for their medical miracles!
I am looking forward to developing a great teamwork environment with Tall and she seems open to it. She will be here longer than I will, so I'm trying to give her all the ins and outs, because when I leave, she may be the only tutor for a while and then it will be her responsibility to train the next one. It's all about "paying it forward." It's a good, rewarding, job. I am so grateful to have this job and I'm glad that Tall is now able to be part of the team!
Plus, my new co-tutor is really nice, interesting, and intelligent. I'm going to call her Tall, because she is tall, like really, really tall. She is also thin. We make quite the team, with me at a mere 5' tall and overweight, and her tall, skinny body. I joked that we are the "long and short of it." It's true. Tall has wonderful ideas for the class and is really interested in helping the students succeed.
Tall was diagnosed with breast cancer, and had to come to Carswell to undergo treatment. I learned that, when it was discovered, she was at a stage 3. How absolutely frightening to have to face that while incarcerated. The good news, though, is that she is done with all her chemo/radiation and her outlook looks good. I mentioned to Tall that it seems that this place does a good job with people with breast cancer. She told me that she saw all her doctors on med-trips outside of Carswell and that she was seen by a true cancer specialist. If for some reason an appointment was missed, the doctor would be on the phone to Carswell telling them that they need to bring Tall right away. I'm so grateful for their medical miracles!
I am looking forward to developing a great teamwork environment with Tall and she seems open to it. She will be here longer than I will, so I'm trying to give her all the ins and outs, because when I leave, she may be the only tutor for a while and then it will be her responsibility to train the next one. It's all about "paying it forward." It's a good, rewarding, job. I am so grateful to have this job and I'm glad that Tall is now able to be part of the team!
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
From Dragonfly: Staff
I don't write much about the staff at Carswell, well, because each one is so unique. But, I will write some general observations. First, the jobs that have high interaction with inmates (such as C.O., clinic reception, counselor, case worker, etc.) has to be a tough job. So, often, you have to deliver news the inmate does not want to hear, and so many inmates do not have good control of their emotions. Yes, the staff puts on a tough exterior, but they are just like the rest of us - going to work to make a living to care for their family. In fact, I truly believe that many of them go into this line of work with the hope that they may influence inmates in a positive manner.
But, if I had a job, where people can become violent, where some people turn to incredible anger before thinking through their actions, where there is overcrowding and little space for oneself, I think I would act "hard" like the rest of them do. If you look "soft" in the job, people will try to overtake your authority. Even though most of us are not bad people, or violent people, the fact that any of us may be, has to be on the tip of their minds at all times. It's a tough job and not one I could do well. I respect them, even if I don't respect all their actions.
The truth is, no one here works for themselves. They are part of a huge bureaucracy of the Department of Prisons, and they are given stringent rules to follow. At the same time, one on one, almost any staff member shows a softer side to themselves. In fact, recently, a doctor resigned because he could no longer handle the limitations of what he could medically do here. Is the goal in medicine to keep people alive, or to help them get well? He wanted to help people, but was limited by the restraints on his job. A new doctor, a woman, who seems very nice, has picked up his caseload (she will be my new doctor). I hope she cares as much about her patients and sees us as patients, not just inmates.
I've seen C.O.'s cry when they are being appreciated. I have seen their happiness when they are commended for a job well done by their superiors. The best C.O.'s and staff seem to be the ones that follow the rules and, also, do not play favorites among the inmates. C.O.'s and staff who do appear to have favorites, tend to be the ones that are "gossiped" about the most. They are the ones where people "make up" stories of them having affairs with inmates and/or violating some rule. I'm not saying that a staff member never crosses the line, but from my experience, I see people who are more concerned about doing a job well and getting home to their families, than wanting anything "special" from an inmate. A staff member who does cross the line with an inmate, risks imprisonment themselves. I just know that, at least most, would never consider crossing that line. (A small minority of inmates, on the other hand, may be open to the advances of staff, but that's a one-way relationship). Consider my earlier writings about the fact that many people here could really use some help on "healthy relationships" and "boundaries."
Whenever a staff member is on vacation, or gone for whatever reason, for a week or longer, the rumors usually start. I'll hear: "they are under investigation," "they were having an affair," "they quit," etc. When, in fact, they had been in Hawaii for two weeks with their family enjoying the sun, or helping a sibling move, or dealing with the death of a loved one. Just because we are not given the reasons for staff being absent, does not mean that they are absent for a bad reason. But, inmate.com is a vicious gossip reality, leading one person's made up story, the talk of all the women here. Suddenly, so many people are saying the same thing, even saying they heard it from a staff member (did they really?!?!?), that we all start to believe the gossip. What I've learned to do is to believe nothing fully, until it is told directly to me by a staff member. Seems to be good policy.
It may seem I am defending the people who work here. I am not going to claim that everyone does the right thing all the time. I'm just saying, it is a tough place to work. Some inmates say that they don't care if they are tough on the staff, as the staff "go home at the end of the day," whereas the inmates do not. However, it is not the staff's fault that we are each incarcerated. They were not at our trials. They did not choose for us to be here. I'm sure they'd prefer the place to be much less populated. It is their job. For better or worse, it is what allows them to feed and clothe their children. It gives them necessary health insurance and other benefits. It allows them to take vacations and retire at a decent age. Yes, they do go home at the end of each day, although for many shifts, that home is at midnight or 8am (I could never work a midnight shift!). I imagine it takes them their entire drive home to clear their head of everything they experienced during their shift - from slurs, to breaking up fights - to laughter - to crying inmates - to non-stop questions - to having to give bad news...
Finally, I must admit, some of the staff are just plain "A**Holes." It's true. There are staff who like to hear themselves talk, a lot, but refuse to listen. There are staff who treat us all like the dirt on the bottom of sewers. There are those who love to scream into the loud speaker and treat us all as if we are in kindergarten. There are staff that just have no respect at all for themselves or their colleagues. Sure, there is some scum here, but that is not what I think makes up the majority of staff. The rules they must "obey" may seem even ridiculous to them. In fact, I've heard two staff members say that they "HATE SNITCHES." They do not want to know that someone is doing something wrong. They want us to be able to work things out like adults. Snitches are usually the ones doing the worst stuff on campus. Or, at least that's what they think.
What I think, is that there is good staff and not so good staff. There are staff members that should retire, and others that should be commended for a job well done. There are people who will treat inmates with respect, and those who won't. The bad ones give the rest a bad rap, but as long as the inmates are doing what they should be doing, most of the staff will leave them alone. Live and let live. One day, hopefully, we will all be going home to our families.
But, if I had a job, where people can become violent, where some people turn to incredible anger before thinking through their actions, where there is overcrowding and little space for oneself, I think I would act "hard" like the rest of them do. If you look "soft" in the job, people will try to overtake your authority. Even though most of us are not bad people, or violent people, the fact that any of us may be, has to be on the tip of their minds at all times. It's a tough job and not one I could do well. I respect them, even if I don't respect all their actions.
The truth is, no one here works for themselves. They are part of a huge bureaucracy of the Department of Prisons, and they are given stringent rules to follow. At the same time, one on one, almost any staff member shows a softer side to themselves. In fact, recently, a doctor resigned because he could no longer handle the limitations of what he could medically do here. Is the goal in medicine to keep people alive, or to help them get well? He wanted to help people, but was limited by the restraints on his job. A new doctor, a woman, who seems very nice, has picked up his caseload (she will be my new doctor). I hope she cares as much about her patients and sees us as patients, not just inmates.
I've seen C.O.'s cry when they are being appreciated. I have seen their happiness when they are commended for a job well done by their superiors. The best C.O.'s and staff seem to be the ones that follow the rules and, also, do not play favorites among the inmates. C.O.'s and staff who do appear to have favorites, tend to be the ones that are "gossiped" about the most. They are the ones where people "make up" stories of them having affairs with inmates and/or violating some rule. I'm not saying that a staff member never crosses the line, but from my experience, I see people who are more concerned about doing a job well and getting home to their families, than wanting anything "special" from an inmate. A staff member who does cross the line with an inmate, risks imprisonment themselves. I just know that, at least most, would never consider crossing that line. (A small minority of inmates, on the other hand, may be open to the advances of staff, but that's a one-way relationship). Consider my earlier writings about the fact that many people here could really use some help on "healthy relationships" and "boundaries."
Whenever a staff member is on vacation, or gone for whatever reason, for a week or longer, the rumors usually start. I'll hear: "they are under investigation," "they were having an affair," "they quit," etc. When, in fact, they had been in Hawaii for two weeks with their family enjoying the sun, or helping a sibling move, or dealing with the death of a loved one. Just because we are not given the reasons for staff being absent, does not mean that they are absent for a bad reason. But, inmate.com is a vicious gossip reality, leading one person's made up story, the talk of all the women here. Suddenly, so many people are saying the same thing, even saying they heard it from a staff member (did they really?!?!?), that we all start to believe the gossip. What I've learned to do is to believe nothing fully, until it is told directly to me by a staff member. Seems to be good policy.
It may seem I am defending the people who work here. I am not going to claim that everyone does the right thing all the time. I'm just saying, it is a tough place to work. Some inmates say that they don't care if they are tough on the staff, as the staff "go home at the end of the day," whereas the inmates do not. However, it is not the staff's fault that we are each incarcerated. They were not at our trials. They did not choose for us to be here. I'm sure they'd prefer the place to be much less populated. It is their job. For better or worse, it is what allows them to feed and clothe their children. It gives them necessary health insurance and other benefits. It allows them to take vacations and retire at a decent age. Yes, they do go home at the end of each day, although for many shifts, that home is at midnight or 8am (I could never work a midnight shift!). I imagine it takes them their entire drive home to clear their head of everything they experienced during their shift - from slurs, to breaking up fights - to laughter - to crying inmates - to non-stop questions - to having to give bad news...
Finally, I must admit, some of the staff are just plain "A**Holes." It's true. There are staff who like to hear themselves talk, a lot, but refuse to listen. There are staff who treat us all like the dirt on the bottom of sewers. There are those who love to scream into the loud speaker and treat us all as if we are in kindergarten. There are staff that just have no respect at all for themselves or their colleagues. Sure, there is some scum here, but that is not what I think makes up the majority of staff. The rules they must "obey" may seem even ridiculous to them. In fact, I've heard two staff members say that they "HATE SNITCHES." They do not want to know that someone is doing something wrong. They want us to be able to work things out like adults. Snitches are usually the ones doing the worst stuff on campus. Or, at least that's what they think.
What I think, is that there is good staff and not so good staff. There are staff members that should retire, and others that should be commended for a job well done. There are people who will treat inmates with respect, and those who won't. The bad ones give the rest a bad rap, but as long as the inmates are doing what they should be doing, most of the staff will leave them alone. Live and let live. One day, hopefully, we will all be going home to our families.
From Dragonfly: News
I mentioned a bit ago how exciting it is to see the news once in a while. Well, my very good friends went in together and started to send me "USA Today." The newspaper arrived for the first time yesterday. I will receive it M-F and, while some may be backed up a day, at least yesterday's arrived on it's print date! I went through every page of the paper last night. I even forced South and Lola to work the crossword puzzle with me. What a great gift!!!!
I read in the paper last night that flu season is just getting going. I haven't heard of any more quarantines yesterday or today, but I did get some news. I heard (yes, though inmate.com) that they are moving all the inmates chronically ill (I fall into that category) from 1South to 1North. They want to make 1South into a "programming" unit - with women in residential programs living together in that unit. Right now, 1North is the programming unit. The two units are very, very similar, so I don't know why they are trading them. Interestingly, this change will uproot almost 1/3 of the women here. We will get new rooms, new roommates, have to pack up all our stuff (or trade out lockers), deal with new mattress delegation, and possibly end up on an upper level floor (even if we are on a lower level right now). I can already imagine the issues. I will just go with the flow and pray, if this is happening, that I get some good roommates. Not sure how many prayers it would take to end up in a room with one or more of my friends. That would be something good.
I mentioned to my co-workers that we should actually start a Carswell Newsletter. It should be weekly and inmates can submit poems or short stories. It will have updates from all the relevant departments, the weekly menu, a puzzle page, and important news. My co-workers like the idea... now to just find a supervisor who is willing to go to bat for us to get it going. That would be cool, if we can get it going. The Carswell Weekly. I like it!
I read in the paper last night that flu season is just getting going. I haven't heard of any more quarantines yesterday or today, but I did get some news. I heard (yes, though inmate.com) that they are moving all the inmates chronically ill (I fall into that category) from 1South to 1North. They want to make 1South into a "programming" unit - with women in residential programs living together in that unit. Right now, 1North is the programming unit. The two units are very, very similar, so I don't know why they are trading them. Interestingly, this change will uproot almost 1/3 of the women here. We will get new rooms, new roommates, have to pack up all our stuff (or trade out lockers), deal with new mattress delegation, and possibly end up on an upper level floor (even if we are on a lower level right now). I can already imagine the issues. I will just go with the flow and pray, if this is happening, that I get some good roommates. Not sure how many prayers it would take to end up in a room with one or more of my friends. That would be something good.
I mentioned to my co-workers that we should actually start a Carswell Newsletter. It should be weekly and inmates can submit poems or short stories. It will have updates from all the relevant departments, the weekly menu, a puzzle page, and important news. My co-workers like the idea... now to just find a supervisor who is willing to go to bat for us to get it going. That would be cool, if we can get it going. The Carswell Weekly. I like it!
Monday, January 6, 2014
From Dragonfly: Friends Contained
Well, the flu outbreak is alive and well... I have several friends in isolation now. For each one that is found to have the flu, three more are put in isolation to stop the spread... they automatically isolate the roommates for several days. Yesterday, Nurse's room was put in isolation. She seems to have the worst of luck here. If it is going to happen, it seems to happen to her. I don't know why. I hear that isolation isn't that bad. They have TV's and videos. They have showers and everything one would need. I hope my friends there are well. My bronchitis is still active, but no flu (thank God!).
My friends are all in different places in their imprisonment now. South is nearing her adventure home. She has less than a month to go. Appeal is in the midst of her appeal... seven months of waiting and counting. Freckles is getting by well in RDAP and is now looking at an October, 2014 release date, rather than late 2015. That is a huge benefit of RDAP. Mama is doing her best to get her care level reduced to 2, so she can transfer to a camp closer to home. Danbury has been gone for over a month and none of us have heard anything. I hope she is in peace with wherever she finds herself. Two of my old roommates from the bus stop are going to their halfway houses this Friday. One is getting out after 10 years. She has a world of new things waiting for her. The other was here for just short of a year. Lola has several years to go, and she seems to be at acceptance that she will spend her time here. She has rheumatoid arthritis and it is unlikely (like me) she would ever be able to reduce her care level from 3 to 2. The Little One, who was my original bunkee in the bus stop and even threatened me, is now in my GED class. She is very respectful in class and working hard. She is excited to be back in GED class and really wants to succeed. Nurse is in isolation, like I mentioned, and will have tons of stories, I am sure, once she is released in a couple of days (as long as she shows no sign of the flu). Star is having her baby boy next week out at a hospital. She will be handcuffed to the bed as she recuperates from her C-Section. She will only have 5 weeks left of imprisonment after her baby boy is born. She will spend it in a comfortable hospital bed upstairs in the medical unit (after a couple days in the hospital). Her family will pick up her baby after 3 days and take it home. She will be going to her parents home, and her three children, once released. She is here on a parole violation, so she will not have to be under any supervision when she is finally home. Everyone has a story.
For me, I am trying to get my halfway house papers filled out. A case worker, which I don't know, is helping in that regard. Unfortunately, she came to a snag that I have a "medical hold." If my medical hold is not lifted, I will be ineligible for halfway house or home confinement and will have to stay through the end of my sentence in July. If the hold does get lifted, I could be heading out of here to a halfway house anytime between March and May. To think that I know I am leaving within 6 months no matter what is motivation. Somehow, the switching of the year, to 2014, made me realize I could start to see an end date of this experience. Of course, not knowing what that end date is can be frustrating, but not when I think about those who have years, where I have months or days. So many people I know here, will be here for the next decade of their life or longer. Some are just in their early 20's, other's in their 60's, neither makes it easy to deal with. Should women lose their entire young adult lives? Should women die in prison? I know it depends on their crimes, but, for the most part, these are not violent criminals. Mandatory minimums gave them so much time, but not necessarily their intentions to commit future crimes. I wish there were another option - a place to help women build their self-esteem, receive appropriate medical care and recovery assistance, develop ideas around healthy relationships, and gain an education and/or job skills. I wish I could believe that the women leaving prison will not find themselves right back here - a revolving door, they call it. I believe that most of my friends will never commit another crime, but there is like an 85% recidivism rate... education and programming substantially reduces that.
A lot to think about. I'm sure those who are currently "contained" are finding they are thinking about a lot of things as well. Cough, cough... okay, my bronchitis is acting up. Later!
My friends are all in different places in their imprisonment now. South is nearing her adventure home. She has less than a month to go. Appeal is in the midst of her appeal... seven months of waiting and counting. Freckles is getting by well in RDAP and is now looking at an October, 2014 release date, rather than late 2015. That is a huge benefit of RDAP. Mama is doing her best to get her care level reduced to 2, so she can transfer to a camp closer to home. Danbury has been gone for over a month and none of us have heard anything. I hope she is in peace with wherever she finds herself. Two of my old roommates from the bus stop are going to their halfway houses this Friday. One is getting out after 10 years. She has a world of new things waiting for her. The other was here for just short of a year. Lola has several years to go, and she seems to be at acceptance that she will spend her time here. She has rheumatoid arthritis and it is unlikely (like me) she would ever be able to reduce her care level from 3 to 2. The Little One, who was my original bunkee in the bus stop and even threatened me, is now in my GED class. She is very respectful in class and working hard. She is excited to be back in GED class and really wants to succeed. Nurse is in isolation, like I mentioned, and will have tons of stories, I am sure, once she is released in a couple of days (as long as she shows no sign of the flu). Star is having her baby boy next week out at a hospital. She will be handcuffed to the bed as she recuperates from her C-Section. She will only have 5 weeks left of imprisonment after her baby boy is born. She will spend it in a comfortable hospital bed upstairs in the medical unit (after a couple days in the hospital). Her family will pick up her baby after 3 days and take it home. She will be going to her parents home, and her three children, once released. She is here on a parole violation, so she will not have to be under any supervision when she is finally home. Everyone has a story.
For me, I am trying to get my halfway house papers filled out. A case worker, which I don't know, is helping in that regard. Unfortunately, she came to a snag that I have a "medical hold." If my medical hold is not lifted, I will be ineligible for halfway house or home confinement and will have to stay through the end of my sentence in July. If the hold does get lifted, I could be heading out of here to a halfway house anytime between March and May. To think that I know I am leaving within 6 months no matter what is motivation. Somehow, the switching of the year, to 2014, made me realize I could start to see an end date of this experience. Of course, not knowing what that end date is can be frustrating, but not when I think about those who have years, where I have months or days. So many people I know here, will be here for the next decade of their life or longer. Some are just in their early 20's, other's in their 60's, neither makes it easy to deal with. Should women lose their entire young adult lives? Should women die in prison? I know it depends on their crimes, but, for the most part, these are not violent criminals. Mandatory minimums gave them so much time, but not necessarily their intentions to commit future crimes. I wish there were another option - a place to help women build their self-esteem, receive appropriate medical care and recovery assistance, develop ideas around healthy relationships, and gain an education and/or job skills. I wish I could believe that the women leaving prison will not find themselves right back here - a revolving door, they call it. I believe that most of my friends will never commit another crime, but there is like an 85% recidivism rate... education and programming substantially reduces that.
A lot to think about. I'm sure those who are currently "contained" are finding they are thinking about a lot of things as well. Cough, cough... okay, my bronchitis is acting up. Later!
Sunday, January 5, 2014
From Dragonfly: Scrabble
Being sick in prison is NOT fun. Now, I am not the sickest I've ever been, and it does not appear that I've caught the flu (thank God), but that bronchitis is definitely there. Survivor goes through something similar most years and will know what I am talking about. But, this is the first time I'm sick like this since becoming immuno-compromised, and it seems to be moving fast in my system.
Yesterday, I decided to take it pretty easy. I did breakfast with Lola, then I went to sleep for several more hours. I decided against lunch at the chow hall, and just fed myself some of my own food when hungry. I slept some more. After lunch, I met up with Lola, Freckles, and Appeal at indoor rec, and we played scrabble. It was the first time I've played a game at indoor rec, and with this company, I had a great time. Freckles is awesome competition and I can tell that Lola and Appeal are quickly gaining speed. I have a feeling we'll be playing more often now. I love scrabble! Back home, it's my favorite game on my electronic devices to play against friends and, also, to play in person. In fact, I own a newer version, that allows for quadruple word scores... now that is fun!!!!
I went back to sleep after scrabble, stayed back for dinner (choosing wraps in the unit instead), crocheted a bit, and was in bed by 8pm. The worse thing about not feeling well, is that there is never quiet, never darkness, and your roommates can wake you up continually. I tried sleeping with my head higher last night, a trick I was told when I was young with this, but since I only have one pillow, I had to gather anything else I could to raise the pillow - sweats, blanket, towels, etc. Not sure it helped, but I'm willing to try anything. I want to kick this fast.
Today will be even more low key than yesterday. I had breakfast in the chow hall (where I bring my own cereal) and I'm probably not going back out of my unit (after I complete this message) until tomorrow. My health is my priority and I need to take care of myself. Unfortunately, I am running low on crossword books, as that is what I tend to do when I am laying around so much. Once again, if a loved one is in prison, crossword and puzzle books are a wonderful thing to send them (as long as they like using that part of their brain).
I think I forgot to mention, the other day, that I heard that I will not, yet, be able to have my halfway house papers filled out and sent. I was "informed" that I am on medical hold and that nothing can happen for me until that is lifted. I "think" the medical hold is due to the fact that I still have to see a rheumatologist (which is now scheduled to occur sometime, but I don't know when). Once I see the doctor, I should have the hold lifted and my chances of getting out of here and going to halfway house will increase. This is all, "I hope," but as I always say, this is my "journey of hope" and I will always try to keep "hope" at the forefront. For today, I can't worry about the future, I will only concern myself with the affairs of the day. These include trying to get myself well. So, I am heading back to my unit, my bed, and my crosswords. Perhaps a game of scrabble is also in my future...
Yesterday, I decided to take it pretty easy. I did breakfast with Lola, then I went to sleep for several more hours. I decided against lunch at the chow hall, and just fed myself some of my own food when hungry. I slept some more. After lunch, I met up with Lola, Freckles, and Appeal at indoor rec, and we played scrabble. It was the first time I've played a game at indoor rec, and with this company, I had a great time. Freckles is awesome competition and I can tell that Lola and Appeal are quickly gaining speed. I have a feeling we'll be playing more often now. I love scrabble! Back home, it's my favorite game on my electronic devices to play against friends and, also, to play in person. In fact, I own a newer version, that allows for quadruple word scores... now that is fun!!!!
I went back to sleep after scrabble, stayed back for dinner (choosing wraps in the unit instead), crocheted a bit, and was in bed by 8pm. The worse thing about not feeling well, is that there is never quiet, never darkness, and your roommates can wake you up continually. I tried sleeping with my head higher last night, a trick I was told when I was young with this, but since I only have one pillow, I had to gather anything else I could to raise the pillow - sweats, blanket, towels, etc. Not sure it helped, but I'm willing to try anything. I want to kick this fast.
Today will be even more low key than yesterday. I had breakfast in the chow hall (where I bring my own cereal) and I'm probably not going back out of my unit (after I complete this message) until tomorrow. My health is my priority and I need to take care of myself. Unfortunately, I am running low on crossword books, as that is what I tend to do when I am laying around so much. Once again, if a loved one is in prison, crossword and puzzle books are a wonderful thing to send them (as long as they like using that part of their brain).
I think I forgot to mention, the other day, that I heard that I will not, yet, be able to have my halfway house papers filled out and sent. I was "informed" that I am on medical hold and that nothing can happen for me until that is lifted. I "think" the medical hold is due to the fact that I still have to see a rheumatologist (which is now scheduled to occur sometime, but I don't know when). Once I see the doctor, I should have the hold lifted and my chances of getting out of here and going to halfway house will increase. This is all, "I hope," but as I always say, this is my "journey of hope" and I will always try to keep "hope" at the forefront. For today, I can't worry about the future, I will only concern myself with the affairs of the day. These include trying to get myself well. So, I am heading back to my unit, my bed, and my crosswords. Perhaps a game of scrabble is also in my future...
Saturday, January 4, 2014
From Dragonfly: Flu Season
It's flu season and some inmates have been found to have the flu. They did offer everyone a flu vaccination in the fall, but some refused it. Actually, I am one of the refusals, because my medication doesn't allow me to take "live vaccinations" and no one could tell me if the vaccine was live or not. So, I have to be really careful, because I'm immuno-compromised. Getting any kind of illness (cold, flu, etc.) can lead to a much more serious condition in anyone immuno-compromised.
Carswell takes flu season very seriously. Just the other day, I saw a bulletin with the influenza policy (warning for all inmates). If an inmate is found to have the flu, they are put into confinement until the time that their symptoms end. Their roommates are also separated from general population, however, if after three days they don't have symptoms, they can go back to their rooms. An outbreak at this prison, because so many inmates have fragile health conditions, would not be good.
I heard through inmate.com (so, take with a grain of salt) that 9 inmates are currently being confined due to influenza. I don't know any of them, if it is true. I pray that I don't come into contact with anyone that does get the flu. Living in such close quarters, it is impossible to keep proper distance from others in order to maintain a healthy boundary from those sick.
Lately, a lot of people have been getting colds. It includes the loss of voice, a cough, sneezing, etc. I fear that I may be at the start of this cold, but I'm trying to be proactive. I, unfortunately, can already feel it moving to my bronchi, which is a well-established part of my health history. I have always struggled with bronchitis, whenever I get sick. My mother would tell me to go get an inhaler and some good cough syrup, but that's not how things work here. If I do get sick, I have to have the full symptoms, go to sick call, and then get the prescriptions. Next week would be the earliest I could go. We'll see what the weekend brings. I will get lots of rest, drink plenty of vitamin c, and take care of myself. I'm even allowing Nurse to give me a "hotty totty" which she says is tea with honey, lemon, and a throat lozenge. Okay, sounds odd to me, but can't hurt.
Maybe, by Monday, this will have passed, and I will be feeling much better. That's the goal! If I can divert this cold, let's hope I can also divert the flu.
Carswell takes flu season very seriously. Just the other day, I saw a bulletin with the influenza policy (warning for all inmates). If an inmate is found to have the flu, they are put into confinement until the time that their symptoms end. Their roommates are also separated from general population, however, if after three days they don't have symptoms, they can go back to their rooms. An outbreak at this prison, because so many inmates have fragile health conditions, would not be good.
I heard through inmate.com (so, take with a grain of salt) that 9 inmates are currently being confined due to influenza. I don't know any of them, if it is true. I pray that I don't come into contact with anyone that does get the flu. Living in such close quarters, it is impossible to keep proper distance from others in order to maintain a healthy boundary from those sick.
Lately, a lot of people have been getting colds. It includes the loss of voice, a cough, sneezing, etc. I fear that I may be at the start of this cold, but I'm trying to be proactive. I, unfortunately, can already feel it moving to my bronchi, which is a well-established part of my health history. I have always struggled with bronchitis, whenever I get sick. My mother would tell me to go get an inhaler and some good cough syrup, but that's not how things work here. If I do get sick, I have to have the full symptoms, go to sick call, and then get the prescriptions. Next week would be the earliest I could go. We'll see what the weekend brings. I will get lots of rest, drink plenty of vitamin c, and take care of myself. I'm even allowing Nurse to give me a "hotty totty" which she says is tea with honey, lemon, and a throat lozenge. Okay, sounds odd to me, but can't hurt.
Maybe, by Monday, this will have passed, and I will be feeling much better. That's the goal! If I can divert this cold, let's hope I can also divert the flu.
Thursday, January 2, 2014
From Dragonfly: Attention Inmates
At first, I thought it was interesting. Then, I started to get annoyed. Now, I want to throw stones at the megaphone that emits prison-wide announcements:
"Attention inmates: Male and Female staff routinely work in and visit inmate housing areas."
That is the announcement. It plays every morning around 6am, every evening around 4:45pm, and every night around 10pm. Sometimes, it also plays around 11am. Some inmates haven't looked at their watches or the clock to know that there is a method to the madness. They think that someone just presses a button every so often, and the announcement plays.
Given that it is a "live voice" (sometimes male, sometimes female) with errors sometimes in the reading of the message, I know that it is not a recording.
I believe the timing of the message is not by accident. I have deducted that they do the message at the time the count is "cleared." Our counts are at 5am, sometimes 10am, 4pm, and 9:30pm. They take 30-60 minutes to get through all the housing units, ensure everyone is where they are supposed to be, and then, clear the count. During morning, afternoon, and evening, that also means that the chow hall will soon be open for business and those inmates requiring insulin should be released to pill line for their insulin intake. Of course, the CO's do not use the announcement as the gauge, though, they wait for the next announcement that says to release insulin line inmates.
So, why that message? Why not a different message? I believe that this announcement must be the result of some dispute between an inmate and the institution. It's not DOP wide (several inmates, who transferred here, say that the announcement was not made in their old institutions. It's content is obvious. I mean there are male and female Correctional Officers, so of course male and female staff work in and visit our housing areas. Perhaps a female inmate complained that male staff were in the unit. I don't know. I have no idea when the announcements started. I am only guessing at the reasons for the announcement.
What I do know, is that it is LOUD and wakes me up, those few times I am able to sleep past 6am. It also wakes me at 10pm, if I am lucky enough to have fallen asleep soon enough after 9:30pm count. It doesn't help that the announcement megaphone is hung up about 10 feet from the opening to my room. When I was in the bus stop, I could barely hear it (it was the top floor, all the way across the unit, from where I am now). But, instead, it is said, and, now, I am in the habit of saying it right along with the announcer. Every time it occurs, I hear someone say something like, "no sh*t," or something else dramatic and sarcastic.
Sometimes, things are not always logical here. But, things happen because it is just what it is. There is an announcement 3-4 times a day that tells me something obvious. It is not something anyone really pays much attention to. It just is.
"Attention inmates: Male and Female staff routinely work in and visit inmate housing areas."
That is the announcement. It plays every morning around 6am, every evening around 4:45pm, and every night around 10pm. Sometimes, it also plays around 11am. Some inmates haven't looked at their watches or the clock to know that there is a method to the madness. They think that someone just presses a button every so often, and the announcement plays.
Given that it is a "live voice" (sometimes male, sometimes female) with errors sometimes in the reading of the message, I know that it is not a recording.
I believe the timing of the message is not by accident. I have deducted that they do the message at the time the count is "cleared." Our counts are at 5am, sometimes 10am, 4pm, and 9:30pm. They take 30-60 minutes to get through all the housing units, ensure everyone is where they are supposed to be, and then, clear the count. During morning, afternoon, and evening, that also means that the chow hall will soon be open for business and those inmates requiring insulin should be released to pill line for their insulin intake. Of course, the CO's do not use the announcement as the gauge, though, they wait for the next announcement that says to release insulin line inmates.
So, why that message? Why not a different message? I believe that this announcement must be the result of some dispute between an inmate and the institution. It's not DOP wide (several inmates, who transferred here, say that the announcement was not made in their old institutions. It's content is obvious. I mean there are male and female Correctional Officers, so of course male and female staff work in and visit our housing areas. Perhaps a female inmate complained that male staff were in the unit. I don't know. I have no idea when the announcements started. I am only guessing at the reasons for the announcement.
What I do know, is that it is LOUD and wakes me up, those few times I am able to sleep past 6am. It also wakes me at 10pm, if I am lucky enough to have fallen asleep soon enough after 9:30pm count. It doesn't help that the announcement megaphone is hung up about 10 feet from the opening to my room. When I was in the bus stop, I could barely hear it (it was the top floor, all the way across the unit, from where I am now). But, instead, it is said, and, now, I am in the habit of saying it right along with the announcer. Every time it occurs, I hear someone say something like, "no sh*t," or something else dramatic and sarcastic.
Sometimes, things are not always logical here. But, things happen because it is just what it is. There is an announcement 3-4 times a day that tells me something obvious. It is not something anyone really pays much attention to. It just is.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
From Dragonfly: Some New Year's Joy
Joy, my friend from back home, came to visit me today. She had quite the story of getting in. She arrived, I think, around 7am. Surprisingly, she was only the 6th car waiting. Usually, by 7, you would be the 20th or even further back in line. I was called to the visitation room around 9:30am, so it took her about 1 1/2 hours, after they opened the gates at 8, to be brought in to see me. I suppose she would have been in earlier, but she had a bit of a mishap getting past security. See, Joy wore an under-wire bra here today. I'd warned everyone, that I heard the machine catches under-wire bras, but, for some reason, Joy forgot. So, she was sent to the bathroom to try and remove the wire from her bra. This was one heck of a well made bra, as she could not get the wire out, not even after she borrowed scissors from the officer. So, the lieutenant was called. They absolutely could have told Joy that she would not be able to visit with me. It is a requirement that women have their bras on. However, the lieutenant said that she would not send Joy out without a visit (like had been done to a different person I know recently), instead, they allowed Joy to visit without her bra on, as long as she kept her jacket on the entire visit. She did just that. Good thing she wore a light fleece jacket, and not her winter coat!!! So, remember - NO UNDER-WIRE BRAS!
I was surprised to see only four inmates with visitors at visitation all morning. Usually there are dozens. I guess since the holiday is not on a weekend, and it's a special day for visitation, many people didn't come. I thought it would be packed, but it wasn't. By early afternoon, perhaps 12 inmates had visitors. It was so nice to not have any other inmates or their visitors right next or across from us. We were able to talk at normal levels and still hear one another.
Joy is such a strong, wonderful friend. She drove 3 1/2 hours down from Oklahoma City, where she is staying with friends for a couple days. She says the drive was worth it. That's a great friend!!! We didn't run out of things to talk about. It was nice to have a friend from school here, who I could talk a little to about what has happened with that. I still have not heard back from my appeal. I explained to Joy how I have some ideas on next steps, depending on what happens. I don't worry about it, as right now, my only energy is used to get through day to day. All I would do is add anxiety to myself if I worried about an unknown future. Things will happen however they are supposed to happen, and I know that I will be okay.
I spent a total of 4 1/2 hours with Joy. We hugged goodbye at about 2 pm. I was able to avoid a long line for the strip search by doing that, and only had one other inmate with me in the room for the search, bend, spread, and cough. By 2:30, everyone will be forced to leave visitation. They say that visitation is from 8am-3pm, but that includes all the time visitors have to spend waiting to get in, get processed in/out, and get out.
I know that I am really quite fortunate to have had so many visitors. I also have so many friends who write, email, and send me books and stuff. They all bring me a little joy from home... and today, my friend Joy, added to it. Thank you Joy and thank you everyone who helps me through this time away.
I was surprised to see only four inmates with visitors at visitation all morning. Usually there are dozens. I guess since the holiday is not on a weekend, and it's a special day for visitation, many people didn't come. I thought it would be packed, but it wasn't. By early afternoon, perhaps 12 inmates had visitors. It was so nice to not have any other inmates or their visitors right next or across from us. We were able to talk at normal levels and still hear one another.
Joy is such a strong, wonderful friend. She drove 3 1/2 hours down from Oklahoma City, where she is staying with friends for a couple days. She says the drive was worth it. That's a great friend!!! We didn't run out of things to talk about. It was nice to have a friend from school here, who I could talk a little to about what has happened with that. I still have not heard back from my appeal. I explained to Joy how I have some ideas on next steps, depending on what happens. I don't worry about it, as right now, my only energy is used to get through day to day. All I would do is add anxiety to myself if I worried about an unknown future. Things will happen however they are supposed to happen, and I know that I will be okay.
I spent a total of 4 1/2 hours with Joy. We hugged goodbye at about 2 pm. I was able to avoid a long line for the strip search by doing that, and only had one other inmate with me in the room for the search, bend, spread, and cough. By 2:30, everyone will be forced to leave visitation. They say that visitation is from 8am-3pm, but that includes all the time visitors have to spend waiting to get in, get processed in/out, and get out.
I know that I am really quite fortunate to have had so many visitors. I also have so many friends who write, email, and send me books and stuff. They all bring me a little joy from home... and today, my friend Joy, added to it. Thank you Joy and thank you everyone who helps me through this time away.
From Dragonfly: Happy New Year
It's finally 2014, and I'm not sure anyone counts down years the way we do in prison. For me, 2014 will be the year I go home. With those who are here for a long time, a new year counts as a year closer to going home. That's what we all think, all the time; "When am I going home?"
Anyway, I haven't been top shape lately, so my new year's eve was nothing great. I did go to eat kielbasa sausage in the chow hall (no special dinner last night) with Lola, South, and Appeal. I don't think any of us finished the food --- which is typical. They are planning on having "steak and shrimp" for dinner tonight. It's the only time of year that we will get either of these items. I'm sure it's flank steak, and there won't be any A-1 sauce, but it's steak!!!! I hear the shrimp is popcorn shrimp and on a skewer. Whatever it is, I will try it with an open mind.
I guess they let everyone in the unit stay up really late last night --- hours past the 11:30pm bedtime that is usual. I wouldn't know, because I slept through it. I slept starting at 8pm, got up for 9:30 count, and went back to bed by 10pm. I slept through a ton of screaming at midnight (I did have my ear plugs in, but they aren't usually that good), and when I first woke at 2:30am, everyone was in their rooms. It was as if a huge party had not occurred the night before, because I was totally unaware of it!
I usually like to celebrate New Years with friends. We may just play games, see a movie, attend a small party, but it doesn't need to be anything special. It's special just because of who I am with. I guess that's true for last night, too. I am so grateful to have the friends I've made while in Carswell. We all need people to lean on, who can fully understand our situation. Those who imagine keeping to themselves the entire time in prison, will be sadder and lonely. The key is to find people who have positive energy and share the same with them. That's what we all need, a little laughter, some positive thoughts, and someone to talk with through the realities of this experience.
I hope I never forget what it's like to be in prison. I want to ensure I don't leave anyone behind when I walk out the doors. People like Freckles, Lola, and Appeal will be here for another couple years. I need to send them cards and letters. I know how important mail call is. For me, I will forever be connected to the realities of imprisonment. I will choose to live in the day, but I will not forget. I guess that's my New Years resolution.
Anyway, I haven't been top shape lately, so my new year's eve was nothing great. I did go to eat kielbasa sausage in the chow hall (no special dinner last night) with Lola, South, and Appeal. I don't think any of us finished the food --- which is typical. They are planning on having "steak and shrimp" for dinner tonight. It's the only time of year that we will get either of these items. I'm sure it's flank steak, and there won't be any A-1 sauce, but it's steak!!!! I hear the shrimp is popcorn shrimp and on a skewer. Whatever it is, I will try it with an open mind.
I guess they let everyone in the unit stay up really late last night --- hours past the 11:30pm bedtime that is usual. I wouldn't know, because I slept through it. I slept starting at 8pm, got up for 9:30 count, and went back to bed by 10pm. I slept through a ton of screaming at midnight (I did have my ear plugs in, but they aren't usually that good), and when I first woke at 2:30am, everyone was in their rooms. It was as if a huge party had not occurred the night before, because I was totally unaware of it!
I usually like to celebrate New Years with friends. We may just play games, see a movie, attend a small party, but it doesn't need to be anything special. It's special just because of who I am with. I guess that's true for last night, too. I am so grateful to have the friends I've made while in Carswell. We all need people to lean on, who can fully understand our situation. Those who imagine keeping to themselves the entire time in prison, will be sadder and lonely. The key is to find people who have positive energy and share the same with them. That's what we all need, a little laughter, some positive thoughts, and someone to talk with through the realities of this experience.
I hope I never forget what it's like to be in prison. I want to ensure I don't leave anyone behind when I walk out the doors. People like Freckles, Lola, and Appeal will be here for another couple years. I need to send them cards and letters. I know how important mail call is. For me, I will forever be connected to the realities of imprisonment. I will choose to live in the day, but I will not forget. I guess that's my New Years resolution.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
From Dragonfly: Happy Birthday South
On Sunday, South advanced a year and I had only learned that her birthday was coming up 3 days prior. She was being very secretive. So, the minute I knew, I had to get into organizer mode. We had to ensure South had a great birthday. I talked with Appeal, Mama, Lola, and others, and we planned out a menu. Then, I started working on making a crochet bookmark, with ribbon, for a gift. Thankfully, Lola and I had all the supplies necessary. No one could go to commissary last week (it was closed), so we couldn't purchase any needs. The hardest part was the cake... I required puddings, lemon juice, creme cheese, chocolate cookies, candy, and a whole creamer. Working together, we were all able to get the ingredients (sometimes promising our next born in return - ha). Plus, we needed someone who was a talented cheese cake maker - that is my co-worker, Style. Style achieves such success with cheesecakes here, that I've tasted nothing that comes even close to it. We scheduled meeting Freckles outside (so we could all eat together) at 1pm. So, everything was set up... we just had to wait for Sunday.
I started Sunday by hanging some paper balloons outside South's room. The balloons also had her name on them. She started getting "happy birthdays" immediately. Next, Lola and Mama did their best to take the birthday card we made around the entire unit to get all those who love South to sign it. There wasn't a bit of space left after everyone signed. Doing all this without South seeing, was the hardest part! Then, we started cooking our meal: ham, cheesy rice, and cheese wraps; macaroni and cheese; pretzels; and the cheesecake (which was already sitting on ice in Style's Unit). She handed it over to us around noon, and we used a large bucket to place it back on ice. No refrigerator means we HAVE to improvise.
It was FREEZING outside, so joining up with Freckles became impossible, but we did meet her outside and she gave South a huge hug and got some wraps and cheesecake. She started eating the cheesecake first - wouldn't we all!?!?! Well, actually, we ate the wraps first. It was the first time we made the ham wraps. As Lola puts it, "all the food here tastes the same." It really doesn't matter if we are making ham, chicken, or using any other available protein, they are all mixed the same way, with the same available condiments, and they do all taste the same.
Once lunch was over, we gave South her card and bookmark. She was overwhelmed. When we also served the cheesecake, she admitted to us that she never has a special birthday cake - in fact, it was only her second birthday cake that she knows of. Since her birthday is so close to Christmas, she always had to celebrate her birthday with family during Christmas. I know her well enough to know that she'd be the first person to say, "no, I don't need a special party...". She's just that way. So, our little gathering, card, and cake put tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe how many people signed her card. She LOVED the cake, which we finished up that night after dinner. She kept the card and the balloons from the wall outside her room, and put them in her items to bring home. From what I could tell, she had a good birthday - despite where we are.
Speaking of birthdays, yesterday was my mom's birthday. I tried calling her a couple times, when the phones were available, but she was probably out with my step-dad and her friends. It is likely the first birthday I've not reached her, ever. That's the thing about prison, sometimes, we can't talk to our loved ones when we want to. I know I will reach her soon, plus I did talk to her on Sunday, so that is something. But, missing family members' birthdays is definitely one of the hard things about being incarcerated.
I'm just going to close this by wishing you a Happy New Years. It does not feel like a holiday today, but tomorrow, I will have the wonderful joy of having a good friend visit. What a great way to start off a new year!!!!
I started Sunday by hanging some paper balloons outside South's room. The balloons also had her name on them. She started getting "happy birthdays" immediately. Next, Lola and Mama did their best to take the birthday card we made around the entire unit to get all those who love South to sign it. There wasn't a bit of space left after everyone signed. Doing all this without South seeing, was the hardest part! Then, we started cooking our meal: ham, cheesy rice, and cheese wraps; macaroni and cheese; pretzels; and the cheesecake (which was already sitting on ice in Style's Unit). She handed it over to us around noon, and we used a large bucket to place it back on ice. No refrigerator means we HAVE to improvise.
It was FREEZING outside, so joining up with Freckles became impossible, but we did meet her outside and she gave South a huge hug and got some wraps and cheesecake. She started eating the cheesecake first - wouldn't we all!?!?! Well, actually, we ate the wraps first. It was the first time we made the ham wraps. As Lola puts it, "all the food here tastes the same." It really doesn't matter if we are making ham, chicken, or using any other available protein, they are all mixed the same way, with the same available condiments, and they do all taste the same.
Once lunch was over, we gave South her card and bookmark. She was overwhelmed. When we also served the cheesecake, she admitted to us that she never has a special birthday cake - in fact, it was only her second birthday cake that she knows of. Since her birthday is so close to Christmas, she always had to celebrate her birthday with family during Christmas. I know her well enough to know that she'd be the first person to say, "no, I don't need a special party...". She's just that way. So, our little gathering, card, and cake put tears in her eyes. She couldn't believe how many people signed her card. She LOVED the cake, which we finished up that night after dinner. She kept the card and the balloons from the wall outside her room, and put them in her items to bring home. From what I could tell, she had a good birthday - despite where we are.
Speaking of birthdays, yesterday was my mom's birthday. I tried calling her a couple times, when the phones were available, but she was probably out with my step-dad and her friends. It is likely the first birthday I've not reached her, ever. That's the thing about prison, sometimes, we can't talk to our loved ones when we want to. I know I will reach her soon, plus I did talk to her on Sunday, so that is something. But, missing family members' birthdays is definitely one of the hard things about being incarcerated.
I'm just going to close this by wishing you a Happy New Years. It does not feel like a holiday today, but tomorrow, I will have the wonderful joy of having a good friend visit. What a great way to start off a new year!!!!
Sunday, December 29, 2013
From Dragonfly: The Compound Cat
The first day I saw the "cat" was on a warmish day about a month and a half ago. The "cat" was hanging around the open compound, where there are many benches set up and inmates sit, talk, relax, and take in a little vitamin D. Later that evening, I saw several inmates "feeding" the "cat" with bread, or anything they could. They were up next to the "cat" and so excited that a fluffy animal had found it's way to the Carswell compound.
A week later, I saw several people up by a street sewer opening. The kind that's on the side of the road and is open. The "cat" was living down there and several people were leaving scraps of food, such as oranges and apples. The head of the "cat" was sticking out and happily taking the food. It's "paw" was even reaching into people's hand, as they fed him/her. This feeding of the "cat" near the sewer has become a daily activity for some.
One day, Freckles and I were walking into the main building from the compound, and the open sewer is on our way there. Suddenly, Freckles jumped and screamed of fear. The "cat" had stuck it's head out just as we passed, and since Freckles lives in the main building, she did not know of the "cat" and it's "friendliness." It was a funny moment, except that Freckles almost had a heart attack from the freight!
The "cat" remains a Carswell pet. There are times when it comes out of the sewer and walks around, several inmates will follow it and try to interact with it. It has eaten out of people's hands several times. The C.O.'s don't seem to mind, I think because they realize how absolutely insane it is that people are playing with the wild "cat."
See, the "cat" is actually a raccoon. It is a young raccoon, based on size, but a raccoon is a raccoon. It is a wild animal that these inmates think they can domesticate. I sure as heck would NOT choose to get close to the raccoon. They are known to carry rabies and be quite violent if they feel threatened. The C.O.'s just laugh at inmates getting too close to the raccoon. Kind of like, "really?!?!?"
I have to admit, it is cute to look at when it is in the sewer and just sticking it's little nose out. Although, seeing the eyes in the dark is a bit scary. It does depend, now, on the mounds of food fed to it by some inmates. I just fret the day it realizes it's power...
The "cat" is not our only pet. There are inmates that interact daily with the pigeons, that leave their feces outside our unit doors all day, every day. There are inmates who feed them and try to call them over through a weird whistle or something. They also like to feed and interact with the squirrels.
Truth is, there are people here, who have been locked up a LONG time! I know people who have been in prison for 20-30 years. Seeing an animal of any type, other than on the television, is very rare. They can't easily wander on to the compound with all the barbed wire and fencing. The only live things we see frequently, other that humans, are insects (gnats, flies, beetles, and especially roaches --- ew!!!). I heard that there once was an inmate who tried to keep a mouse as a pet once. I hear she was successful for quite a while.
So, for now, "catcoon," the raccoon (this was my name for the raccoon, I have no idea if the raccoon has been given a name by others), is the compound pet. I just pray it's cute, friendly, and docile attitude doesn't take a turn for the worse.
A week later, I saw several people up by a street sewer opening. The kind that's on the side of the road and is open. The "cat" was living down there and several people were leaving scraps of food, such as oranges and apples. The head of the "cat" was sticking out and happily taking the food. It's "paw" was even reaching into people's hand, as they fed him/her. This feeding of the "cat" near the sewer has become a daily activity for some.
One day, Freckles and I were walking into the main building from the compound, and the open sewer is on our way there. Suddenly, Freckles jumped and screamed of fear. The "cat" had stuck it's head out just as we passed, and since Freckles lives in the main building, she did not know of the "cat" and it's "friendliness." It was a funny moment, except that Freckles almost had a heart attack from the freight!
The "cat" remains a Carswell pet. There are times when it comes out of the sewer and walks around, several inmates will follow it and try to interact with it. It has eaten out of people's hands several times. The C.O.'s don't seem to mind, I think because they realize how absolutely insane it is that people are playing with the wild "cat."
See, the "cat" is actually a raccoon. It is a young raccoon, based on size, but a raccoon is a raccoon. It is a wild animal that these inmates think they can domesticate. I sure as heck would NOT choose to get close to the raccoon. They are known to carry rabies and be quite violent if they feel threatened. The C.O.'s just laugh at inmates getting too close to the raccoon. Kind of like, "really?!?!?"
I have to admit, it is cute to look at when it is in the sewer and just sticking it's little nose out. Although, seeing the eyes in the dark is a bit scary. It does depend, now, on the mounds of food fed to it by some inmates. I just fret the day it realizes it's power...
The "cat" is not our only pet. There are inmates that interact daily with the pigeons, that leave their feces outside our unit doors all day, every day. There are inmates who feed them and try to call them over through a weird whistle or something. They also like to feed and interact with the squirrels.
Truth is, there are people here, who have been locked up a LONG time! I know people who have been in prison for 20-30 years. Seeing an animal of any type, other than on the television, is very rare. They can't easily wander on to the compound with all the barbed wire and fencing. The only live things we see frequently, other that humans, are insects (gnats, flies, beetles, and especially roaches --- ew!!!). I heard that there once was an inmate who tried to keep a mouse as a pet once. I hear she was successful for quite a while.
So, for now, "catcoon," the raccoon (this was my name for the raccoon, I have no idea if the raccoon has been given a name by others), is the compound pet. I just pray it's cute, friendly, and docile attitude doesn't take a turn for the worse.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
From Dragonfly: A New Pen
I've always liked a good writing pen. Sometimes a ballpoint pen will draw my attention, other times it is a gel pen or a pen of a specific color. Here, all we can purchase is a black pen. They are the basic pens that don't write especially good or bad. They have the kind of cap that you always lose well before the pen is out of ink. It does not write well when you are laying in bed writing sideways or up. It works. I'm grateful to have a pen.
Working in education has given me access to other ink pens. At first, it was a red ink pen - identical to the standard black pen - but I could grade and write in red. This is a big deal, and I must carry the pen with me anytime I walk away from my tutor desk. Otherwise, it would be stolen by someone. I guess it's worth "bank" on the underground market. Education realizes this and will only do a 1-for-1 exchange (meaning, if you want to get a new red pen, you must turn in your old red pen). I would never sell my pen anyways, I need it to do my job and I cherish the ability to have a pen other than black ink.
Then, a week or so ago, I was able to get a blue pen from the teacher I really respect in education. He gave one to each of the tutors around me, after I inquired about it. We were all so happy with our blue pens. Now, when I ask students to correct their work, I can regrade in a new color and they can see what they did right/wrong the second time around. This blue pen is just like the red and black pens, but it is a pretty color blue! I now carry around my black, red, and blue pens in my shirt pocket to and from work each day. The true nerd in me. If only they gave away or sold pocket protectors - hah!!!
My roommate, Bandana, saw my blue pen the other day and tried to hustle it away from me. Her current girlfriend wants a blue pen. She was trying everything, like telling me to change the ink to black and just give her the blue ink. I said, "absolutely not." It's hard saying "no" to Bandana. It's not an answer she accepts. She kept trying and trying. Finally, I just locked my pen in my locker and walked out of the room. Sometimes, that is the only way to get out of these kinds of conversations. I like my blue pen and need it for work.
Yesterday, the same teacher was feeling generous - as the holidays had just occurred, and he offered me a new black pen. This one is a GEL PEN!!! It even clicks open and closed (no caps to lose!). You would think I was given a hundred dollars with the excitement I felt having this new pen. I proudly added this to my left shirt pocket and it drew the attention of others who wanted to see my new pen. Lola was incredibly jealous, but then again, I was jealous of a pen she was given from her job just a week ago. We laughed at how such a stupid thing, a new pen, can get us so excited. Talk about appreciating the little things in life!!! And, "no," I will not get hustled out of this pen either. I will use it at work and cherish it in my pocket.
I've always loved pens. At school last year, I had a bunch of fun color gel pens. In my pedagogy course, I would share my pens with my colleagues who admired them. Sometimes I would select my green one, sometimes the purple one. It didn't really matter if I lost a pen or someone didn't give theirs back, I could always get more. Such is not the case while I am here. A good pen is a true gift, and it may never be able to be replaced!
Just as a side note, my nerd pocket also contains my tutor calculator (a calculator lent to me by the education department for grading and tutoring purposes). It says, "Tutor," large across the lid of it and is the kind of calculator where the lid slides off and then slides on to the back. It is not an advanced Texas Instruments calculator, like I use for statistics, but it does allow me to do square roots, exponents, percentages, fractions, and other handy calculations. If I lose this calculator, I will not receive another one. While the pens may go home with me, the calculator was lent to me and I am responsible that it not get stolen. So, this calculator also sits in the pocket, with the three pens in front of it, and my name badge clipped to the same pocket. I think I would fit well in an episode of "Big Bang Theory!"
Working in education has given me access to other ink pens. At first, it was a red ink pen - identical to the standard black pen - but I could grade and write in red. This is a big deal, and I must carry the pen with me anytime I walk away from my tutor desk. Otherwise, it would be stolen by someone. I guess it's worth "bank" on the underground market. Education realizes this and will only do a 1-for-1 exchange (meaning, if you want to get a new red pen, you must turn in your old red pen). I would never sell my pen anyways, I need it to do my job and I cherish the ability to have a pen other than black ink.
Then, a week or so ago, I was able to get a blue pen from the teacher I really respect in education. He gave one to each of the tutors around me, after I inquired about it. We were all so happy with our blue pens. Now, when I ask students to correct their work, I can regrade in a new color and they can see what they did right/wrong the second time around. This blue pen is just like the red and black pens, but it is a pretty color blue! I now carry around my black, red, and blue pens in my shirt pocket to and from work each day. The true nerd in me. If only they gave away or sold pocket protectors - hah!!!
My roommate, Bandana, saw my blue pen the other day and tried to hustle it away from me. Her current girlfriend wants a blue pen. She was trying everything, like telling me to change the ink to black and just give her the blue ink. I said, "absolutely not." It's hard saying "no" to Bandana. It's not an answer she accepts. She kept trying and trying. Finally, I just locked my pen in my locker and walked out of the room. Sometimes, that is the only way to get out of these kinds of conversations. I like my blue pen and need it for work.
Yesterday, the same teacher was feeling generous - as the holidays had just occurred, and he offered me a new black pen. This one is a GEL PEN!!! It even clicks open and closed (no caps to lose!). You would think I was given a hundred dollars with the excitement I felt having this new pen. I proudly added this to my left shirt pocket and it drew the attention of others who wanted to see my new pen. Lola was incredibly jealous, but then again, I was jealous of a pen she was given from her job just a week ago. We laughed at how such a stupid thing, a new pen, can get us so excited. Talk about appreciating the little things in life!!! And, "no," I will not get hustled out of this pen either. I will use it at work and cherish it in my pocket.
I've always loved pens. At school last year, I had a bunch of fun color gel pens. In my pedagogy course, I would share my pens with my colleagues who admired them. Sometimes I would select my green one, sometimes the purple one. It didn't really matter if I lost a pen or someone didn't give theirs back, I could always get more. Such is not the case while I am here. A good pen is a true gift, and it may never be able to be replaced!
Just as a side note, my nerd pocket also contains my tutor calculator (a calculator lent to me by the education department for grading and tutoring purposes). It says, "Tutor," large across the lid of it and is the kind of calculator where the lid slides off and then slides on to the back. It is not an advanced Texas Instruments calculator, like I use for statistics, but it does allow me to do square roots, exponents, percentages, fractions, and other handy calculations. If I lose this calculator, I will not receive another one. While the pens may go home with me, the calculator was lent to me and I am responsible that it not get stolen. So, this calculator also sits in the pocket, with the three pens in front of it, and my name badge clipped to the same pocket. I think I would fit well in an episode of "Big Bang Theory!"
Thursday, December 26, 2013
From Dragonfly: Foods We Miss
During Christmas Day, South, Mama, Lola, Appeal, and I were feeling rather hungry in the afternoon, so we sat and brainstormed foods we miss. Rules included that the foods can't be anything that we receive during our meal rotations in the chow hall, or anything we can buy at commissary. Some of the foods only one person missed, others we all agreed on. This is what we came up with:
Real cheese
Chicago Style pizza
2% milk
White bread
Steak (rib eye, t-bone, filet, porterhouse, skirt, etc.)
Captain Crunch cereal
Toasted bagel
Brewed coffee
Totino's pizza
Bacon
Real sausage
Pancakes that are made correctly
Fresh waffles
Maple syrup
Skittles candy
Heath bars
South's homemade fudge with walnuts
Mama's homemade meatloaf
South's homemade butterscotch and chocolate pie
Ice cream mix-in/blizzard
Real biscuits and gravy
Corned beef
Potato pancakes
Walker Bros. apple pancake
Crispy cornbread
Cheesecake Factory cobb salad
Sweet corn
Chocolate shake
Steak hoagie from Edwardo's (Kentucky)
Philly cheese steak
Fresh salmon
McDonalds fries
Goldstar chili cheese fries
Italian beef (Chicago-style)
Portillo's chocolate cake
Chicago style hot dog
Chocolate milk
Shrimp
Grilled brats/sausages
Jell-O mold
South's pistachio salad
A-1 sauce
Heinz ketchup
Cool whip
Canned peaches
Fresh strawberries
Fondue
Goldfish crackers
Caramel apples
Sour cream and onion potato chips
Pie
Real cheesecake
Asparagus
Oreos
Toast
Grilled cheese sandwich
Tomato soup
Cinnamon Rolls
Cream of broccoli soup
Bacon bits
Whipped cream
Hot fudge
Pirate's booty
Orange soda
Real orange juice
Veggie omelet
Lox & bagels
Girl scout cookies
Mr. & Mrs. T Bloody Mary Mix
Tasty green beans
Sunny-side up eggs
Hash browns
Hollandaise sauce
Greek yogurt
Onion rings
Chai tea latte
Blueberry muffin
Ham and cheese hot pockets
Prime rib
Babyback ribs
Asian chicken salad
Kettle corn & Garret's caramel corn
Real cream cheese
Fresh vegetables (broccoli, celery, carrots, etc.)
Chocolate chips
Fresh baked bread
Grapes
Pita pockets
Bing cherries
Gum
Arizona's Arnold Palmer iced tea
Tomato and fresh mozzarella baguette
Hawaiian bread
French onion dip
Wine
Fresh ham
Crab legs
Lobster
Cheddar biscuits
Olive Garden bread sticks
Real mashed potatoes
Plantains
Good pico de gallo
Fried frog legs
Microwave popcorn
Cool ranch Doritos
Sour cream and cheddar chips
Lay's stacked potato chips
Kahn's bologna and cheese sandwich
Hard salami
Zesta crackers
Homemade chocolate chip cookies
Fresh brownies
Stuffed mushrooms
Garlic hummus
Spinach dip
Blooming onion
Homemade bean dip
Green bean casserole
Bread stuffing
Apple cider
Crispy Creme donuts
Frisch's tarter sauce
Cotton candy
Macaroni casserole
Chicken tortilla soup
Crab ragoons
Real fried rice
Buffalo Wild Wings chicken wings
Fried mushrooms
Subway tuna sandwich
Jimmy John's vito sub
Buckeye's candy
Seagram's Jamaican Me Happy wine cooler
Breakfast egg bake/quiche
Sausage McMuffin
Reese's Pieces
Kiwi
Fruit salad
Raspberry preserves
Frosty
Culver's Butter burgers
Frozen custard
Claussen whole pickles
Hershey kisses
Three musketeers candy bar
Clam chowder
So, when you are enjoying your meals, realize how lucky you are to have any of the above foods! It will be hard not to gain weight when I am finally free! Ha.
Real cheese
Chicago Style pizza
2% milk
White bread
Steak (rib eye, t-bone, filet, porterhouse, skirt, etc.)
Captain Crunch cereal
Toasted bagel
Brewed coffee
Totino's pizza
Bacon
Real sausage
Pancakes that are made correctly
Fresh waffles
Maple syrup
Skittles candy
Heath bars
South's homemade fudge with walnuts
Mama's homemade meatloaf
South's homemade butterscotch and chocolate pie
Ice cream mix-in/blizzard
Real biscuits and gravy
Corned beef
Potato pancakes
Walker Bros. apple pancake
Crispy cornbread
Cheesecake Factory cobb salad
Sweet corn
Chocolate shake
Steak hoagie from Edwardo's (Kentucky)
Philly cheese steak
Fresh salmon
McDonalds fries
Goldstar chili cheese fries
Italian beef (Chicago-style)
Portillo's chocolate cake
Chicago style hot dog
Chocolate milk
Shrimp
Grilled brats/sausages
Jell-O mold
South's pistachio salad
A-1 sauce
Heinz ketchup
Cool whip
Canned peaches
Fresh strawberries
Fondue
Goldfish crackers
Caramel apples
Sour cream and onion potato chips
Pie
Real cheesecake
Asparagus
Oreos
Toast
Grilled cheese sandwich
Tomato soup
Cinnamon Rolls
Cream of broccoli soup
Bacon bits
Whipped cream
Hot fudge
Pirate's booty
Orange soda
Real orange juice
Veggie omelet
Lox & bagels
Girl scout cookies
Mr. & Mrs. T Bloody Mary Mix
Tasty green beans
Sunny-side up eggs
Hash browns
Hollandaise sauce
Greek yogurt
Onion rings
Chai tea latte
Blueberry muffin
Ham and cheese hot pockets
Prime rib
Babyback ribs
Asian chicken salad
Kettle corn & Garret's caramel corn
Real cream cheese
Fresh vegetables (broccoli, celery, carrots, etc.)
Chocolate chips
Fresh baked bread
Grapes
Pita pockets
Bing cherries
Gum
Arizona's Arnold Palmer iced tea
Tomato and fresh mozzarella baguette
Hawaiian bread
French onion dip
Wine
Fresh ham
Crab legs
Lobster
Cheddar biscuits
Olive Garden bread sticks
Real mashed potatoes
Plantains
Good pico de gallo
Fried frog legs
Microwave popcorn
Cool ranch Doritos
Sour cream and cheddar chips
Lay's stacked potato chips
Kahn's bologna and cheese sandwich
Hard salami
Zesta crackers
Homemade chocolate chip cookies
Fresh brownies
Stuffed mushrooms
Garlic hummus
Spinach dip
Blooming onion
Homemade bean dip
Green bean casserole
Bread stuffing
Apple cider
Crispy Creme donuts
Frisch's tarter sauce
Cotton candy
Macaroni casserole
Chicken tortilla soup
Crab ragoons
Real fried rice
Buffalo Wild Wings chicken wings
Fried mushrooms
Subway tuna sandwich
Jimmy John's vito sub
Buckeye's candy
Seagram's Jamaican Me Happy wine cooler
Breakfast egg bake/quiche
Sausage McMuffin
Reese's Pieces
Kiwi
Fruit salad
Raspberry preserves
Frosty
Culver's Butter burgers
Frozen custard
Claussen whole pickles
Hershey kisses
Three musketeers candy bar
Clam chowder
So, when you are enjoying your meals, realize how lucky you are to have any of the above foods! It will be hard not to gain weight when I am finally free! Ha.
From Dragonfly: A Christmas Raid
Christmas may have been pretty, with all the decorations, but it was not without its drama. Late on Christmas Eve, some rooms in my unit were raided. During the raid, I was pat down for the first time. I've never been frisked (the strip downs we do ourselves). The officer told me to get up against the wall, I failed to spread my arms as I was caught off guard and have never been in that position before. She said, "spread your arms," and I caught on. Okay, sometimes I am a bit naive. I admit this flaw!
They are claiming there's a "drug ring" in our unit. I don't know about it. People here will do anything they think they can get away with. There's a party somewhere every day, and I will sometimes hear about them later. People needing to "escape" their reality, I suppose.
Christmas Day included more raids. It's hard to relax when officers are going through people's stuff all around you. I know that I have nothing, but it gets us all on edge. Lola and I just console one another and try to keep our sanity. Yesterday's reading in my "Peace a Day at a Time" book was about acceptance of circumstances and "this too shall pass." It is interesting that it was the selected reading for Christmas Day in the book. I read it three times, sharing it with others.
A lot of tears around the unit yesterday, too, as people called their families at home for the holiday. Kids asking, "when are you coming home," was a consistent message. South's family told her that they are keeping up their Christmas trees and doing Christmas again when she is home in a month. Her presents sit under the tree. Some people avoided calling families, but generally, it was more than an hour wait to use a phone.
We were fed a Cornish hen, cornbread stuffing, broccoli and cheese, croissants, gravy, and pumpkin pie for our lunch yesterday. The hen was undercooked, but I enjoyed the white meat. The stuffing was bland. The broccoli and cheese was a real treat and yummy. The croissants were undercooked (I didn't eat one), the gravy was tasteless, and I don't like pumpkin pie. But, at least they tried to make a nice meal. We were given box dinners with a roast beef sandwich, graham crackers, baked cheddar chips, a granola bar, and a can of Coke Zero. It was alright and nice to receive food we don't normally receive. I was gathered with friends - South, Mama, and Lola - for our boxed dinner experience. At least I don't have to be alone for the holidays!
During my gambling days, I spent endless hours by myself on holidays, and, often, found myself at a casino with all the others who couldn't fight their urge to gamble, even for a day they should be with friends and family. The dealers would wear fun Christmas style hats and people were extra generous with their tips. Everyone was looking for a Christmas "win." Being at a casino, we were not alone with our low thoughts of ourselves, yet we were alone nonetheless. At a casino, you can be surrounded by thousands of people, and still be alone. Now, I can be by myself, and I feel love and support from people not even here with me. I am never lonely. I am never alone.
The next hurdle will be New Year's. It is a time I usually spend on vacation. I will miss that this year, but "this too shall pass" and next year, I will be in a new place. Anyone can survive anything, when they know it is not forever.
They are claiming there's a "drug ring" in our unit. I don't know about it. People here will do anything they think they can get away with. There's a party somewhere every day, and I will sometimes hear about them later. People needing to "escape" their reality, I suppose.
Christmas Day included more raids. It's hard to relax when officers are going through people's stuff all around you. I know that I have nothing, but it gets us all on edge. Lola and I just console one another and try to keep our sanity. Yesterday's reading in my "Peace a Day at a Time" book was about acceptance of circumstances and "this too shall pass." It is interesting that it was the selected reading for Christmas Day in the book. I read it three times, sharing it with others.
A lot of tears around the unit yesterday, too, as people called their families at home for the holiday. Kids asking, "when are you coming home," was a consistent message. South's family told her that they are keeping up their Christmas trees and doing Christmas again when she is home in a month. Her presents sit under the tree. Some people avoided calling families, but generally, it was more than an hour wait to use a phone.
We were fed a Cornish hen, cornbread stuffing, broccoli and cheese, croissants, gravy, and pumpkin pie for our lunch yesterday. The hen was undercooked, but I enjoyed the white meat. The stuffing was bland. The broccoli and cheese was a real treat and yummy. The croissants were undercooked (I didn't eat one), the gravy was tasteless, and I don't like pumpkin pie. But, at least they tried to make a nice meal. We were given box dinners with a roast beef sandwich, graham crackers, baked cheddar chips, a granola bar, and a can of Coke Zero. It was alright and nice to receive food we don't normally receive. I was gathered with friends - South, Mama, and Lola - for our boxed dinner experience. At least I don't have to be alone for the holidays!
During my gambling days, I spent endless hours by myself on holidays, and, often, found myself at a casino with all the others who couldn't fight their urge to gamble, even for a day they should be with friends and family. The dealers would wear fun Christmas style hats and people were extra generous with their tips. Everyone was looking for a Christmas "win." Being at a casino, we were not alone with our low thoughts of ourselves, yet we were alone nonetheless. At a casino, you can be surrounded by thousands of people, and still be alone. Now, I can be by myself, and I feel love and support from people not even here with me. I am never lonely. I am never alone.
The next hurdle will be New Year's. It is a time I usually spend on vacation. I will miss that this year, but "this too shall pass" and next year, I will be in a new place. Anyone can survive anything, when they know it is not forever.
Monday, December 23, 2013
From Dragonfly: A Good Book
A book in prison is an opportunity to imagine a world beyond the fences, the barbed wire, the C.O.'s, and the fifteen different meals we receive each month. It is a chance to remember places that are written about, people who are similar to characters, and the ups and downs of real life. A book may be fiction, but there are certain aspects of nearly every book, even science fiction, that are real. Even the recent two books I read from the point of view of a dog, "A Dog's Purpose" and "A Dog's Journey" were connections to the real world. Albeit, the world through, perhaps, the eyes and mind of my dog, Super Dog.
I've been spending more time in my room lately, laid up on my bed, reading. I also nap, but mostly I lose myself in a book. I have a locker shelf of books I plan to read and it brings me joy to to connect to different characters and their stories. Perhaps one day I will be a writer, nonfiction or fiction, I don't know. It's always been there, at the back of my brain, that I'd like to write a book. In high school, I wrote plays. I've written short stories, but not for many, many years. I believe that my three years of law school, in my early 20's, really stopped my creative thinking path. Instead, the thoughts went all analytical (although, I was quite analytical to start with). Analytical and creative thinking are not all that different - it's about thinking outside the box. But, I tend to think things through too much. As you can read here.
Right now, I am reading a fairly new Wally Lamb book. I remember reading his earlier works, especially, "She's Come Undone." It was a book I loved and hated at the same time. The main character seemed to make so many bad choices, yet, in reality, I could totally identify with her. My current Wally Lamb book is about family, love, acceptance, art, and affluenza (a word I picked up from the TV a week or so ago, when a young man who was driving drunk killed four people in a motor accident, and instead of prison, is going to a rehab costing over $36,000 per month... they said it was "affluenza" as a person with less money, a person of color, any minority, would be in prison. A similar young man had a similar crime, and he is spending 10 years in prison. This similar young man is African American and does not have the wealth of the one going to expensive rehab). I did a research study while a law student. We were looking at crack cocaine convictions and sentencing based on race. We found strong evidence, that race indicated how long someone would spend in prison. Caucasians spent the least, Asians were next, Hispanic next, and with the most time, for the exact same amount of crack, African Americans (especially men) spent the most. Such racism is so ingrained in our justice system and I see it every day, here at Carswell, based on the population of inmates and their stories.
I think every inmate here has a story worth telling and hearing. I am not unique. Many say that they want to write a book when they are released. Most want to focus it on their lives in prison. I hope some of them do, there are not enough books for women facing prison. There are actually few resources for women facing prison. There are companies that advertise themselves for getting others ready for incarceration, but they are almost exclusively based on the male prison experience. Women need more resources. Perhaps my writing helps.
Reading will make me a better writer. Of that, I am certain. Maybe this experience has taken me far enough away from my lawyer days for me to be creative once again - I did create an mp3 holder yesterday for Lola out of plastic canvas and needle point. I've created scarves and hats. I've created a fun gift that I sent to Sporty. I like making things and making people smile. When I was young and wrote plays, they were comedies - albeit, mostly tragic comedies that tried to save the world (a black comedy about the environment was the one I remember best). People talked all over each other, like we Jews do too often, and crazy things were happening (grandpa blowing up things in the basement as he experiments with chemistry). I don't know where the ideas stemmed from, I was only a teen.
Today, my writing has a purpose as well. My goal is to help others understand addiction, to help others understand incarceration, to help others retain "hope," to help others understand survival, to help others advocate for themselves, to help others develop healthier lives, to help others understand chronic illness, and/or to entertain... Even when we share our lives and talk about all that is happening, it is so easy to wallow in the negative, but there is always positive to share as well. Yesterday, a group of us from education met for a "pot-luck" and gift exchange. I received a very beautifully decorated journal (the paper journals are free, the decor took a lot of time). I gave my person two friendship bracelets, two homemade new year's cards to mail, and two milky way bars. We ate the best prison fare we can make: potato wraps, tamales, cheese and crackers, tuna rolls, and more. We had homemade chocolate cheesecake and popcorn balls for dessert. We laughed together, and enjoyed some cold sunshine for a while out by outdoor rec. It was a nice time.
If a book only stays at the negative, I will put it down. I feel guilty not finishing a story I'm invested in, but even the desperate, like in "Room," have good moments. Moments of real love, real friendship, real laughter, and smiles. All our stories have some smiles in them. A good book stays with me, and I'll think about the characters and their stories beyond the time I am reading. I love to talk about the book with others, and lend them the best of the best. Books bring me joy and sharing them with others brings me even greater joy. This time in prison is giving me the opportunity to enjoy a lot of good books.
I've been spending more time in my room lately, laid up on my bed, reading. I also nap, but mostly I lose myself in a book. I have a locker shelf of books I plan to read and it brings me joy to to connect to different characters and their stories. Perhaps one day I will be a writer, nonfiction or fiction, I don't know. It's always been there, at the back of my brain, that I'd like to write a book. In high school, I wrote plays. I've written short stories, but not for many, many years. I believe that my three years of law school, in my early 20's, really stopped my creative thinking path. Instead, the thoughts went all analytical (although, I was quite analytical to start with). Analytical and creative thinking are not all that different - it's about thinking outside the box. But, I tend to think things through too much. As you can read here.
Right now, I am reading a fairly new Wally Lamb book. I remember reading his earlier works, especially, "She's Come Undone." It was a book I loved and hated at the same time. The main character seemed to make so many bad choices, yet, in reality, I could totally identify with her. My current Wally Lamb book is about family, love, acceptance, art, and affluenza (a word I picked up from the TV a week or so ago, when a young man who was driving drunk killed four people in a motor accident, and instead of prison, is going to a rehab costing over $36,000 per month... they said it was "affluenza" as a person with less money, a person of color, any minority, would be in prison. A similar young man had a similar crime, and he is spending 10 years in prison. This similar young man is African American and does not have the wealth of the one going to expensive rehab). I did a research study while a law student. We were looking at crack cocaine convictions and sentencing based on race. We found strong evidence, that race indicated how long someone would spend in prison. Caucasians spent the least, Asians were next, Hispanic next, and with the most time, for the exact same amount of crack, African Americans (especially men) spent the most. Such racism is so ingrained in our justice system and I see it every day, here at Carswell, based on the population of inmates and their stories.
I think every inmate here has a story worth telling and hearing. I am not unique. Many say that they want to write a book when they are released. Most want to focus it on their lives in prison. I hope some of them do, there are not enough books for women facing prison. There are actually few resources for women facing prison. There are companies that advertise themselves for getting others ready for incarceration, but they are almost exclusively based on the male prison experience. Women need more resources. Perhaps my writing helps.
Reading will make me a better writer. Of that, I am certain. Maybe this experience has taken me far enough away from my lawyer days for me to be creative once again - I did create an mp3 holder yesterday for Lola out of plastic canvas and needle point. I've created scarves and hats. I've created a fun gift that I sent to Sporty. I like making things and making people smile. When I was young and wrote plays, they were comedies - albeit, mostly tragic comedies that tried to save the world (a black comedy about the environment was the one I remember best). People talked all over each other, like we Jews do too often, and crazy things were happening (grandpa blowing up things in the basement as he experiments with chemistry). I don't know where the ideas stemmed from, I was only a teen.
Today, my writing has a purpose as well. My goal is to help others understand addiction, to help others understand incarceration, to help others retain "hope," to help others understand survival, to help others advocate for themselves, to help others develop healthier lives, to help others understand chronic illness, and/or to entertain... Even when we share our lives and talk about all that is happening, it is so easy to wallow in the negative, but there is always positive to share as well. Yesterday, a group of us from education met for a "pot-luck" and gift exchange. I received a very beautifully decorated journal (the paper journals are free, the decor took a lot of time). I gave my person two friendship bracelets, two homemade new year's cards to mail, and two milky way bars. We ate the best prison fare we can make: potato wraps, tamales, cheese and crackers, tuna rolls, and more. We had homemade chocolate cheesecake and popcorn balls for dessert. We laughed together, and enjoyed some cold sunshine for a while out by outdoor rec. It was a nice time.
If a book only stays at the negative, I will put it down. I feel guilty not finishing a story I'm invested in, but even the desperate, like in "Room," have good moments. Moments of real love, real friendship, real laughter, and smiles. All our stories have some smiles in them. A good book stays with me, and I'll think about the characters and their stories beyond the time I am reading. I love to talk about the book with others, and lend them the best of the best. Books bring me joy and sharing them with others brings me even greater joy. This time in prison is giving me the opportunity to enjoy a lot of good books.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
From Dragonfly: Minimum In/Minimum Out
Those of us who enter prison with a "minimum" security level, probably don't know that there are two levels within minimum security. One is labeled "in" and the other "out." Had we not been medically designated to the medical facility, our security level would start "minimum out" at a prison camp. However, the majority of us who are designated here, are labeled "minimum in." What does the "in" vs. "out" mean?
It's easy, first, to explain "out." "Out" is that we are camp status, can be in a non-secured environment, and can see medical providers and others off the prison grounds without being handcuffed and shackled when we go. "In," is the opposite of that. "In" means that we are designated to a secured environment, it's a higher level of security, and if we have an appointment off of the facilities grounds, we are shackled and handcuffed. Since I was designated, "minimum-in," had my referral for a rhuematology appointment occurred, I would have been handcuffed and shackled for the medical trip.
This really disturbed me. I was nervous about walking with leg shackles. I have a limp and my balance is not great, so I am concerned about the chain/cuff restrictions. However, that appointment has yet to occur (waiting 4 months so far). Many of us talk about the fact that we have to be shackled in our med-trips, as many of us, especially those who self-surrendered, have never even been handcuffed. During this entire ordeal, I have never been handcuffed, which those who were officially arrested think those of us who say that have to be lying. Our experiences leading us through the legal process are so different.
Anyway, we are all told different things on why our status starts as "minimum - in" rather than "out," since we are camp eligible except for medical reasons. Almost all of us started with "in," myself, Nurse, Freckles, Mama, etc. South is the only person I know who did not start with an "in" status, although her sentence was for only 6 months, so perhaps that's why. All of us have been asking why we have "in" status and how we can get it changed to "out." At first, I was told that anyone with a medical issue has to be evaluated before they can receive out status, and it takes about 6 months. Next time, I was told it takes about 7 months. The next time, I was told it was changed to "out" the week before because of them making me eligible for the camp across the street (this is the time I learned that I was being sent to the camp, which since has been recanted, but now may be happening again). With "minimum-in" status, we cannot go to the camp across the street, or any camp for that matter. So, for a couple weeks, now, I've been "minimum-out" (thank god).
However, several of my friends are trying to figure out how their status can be changed. From my experience, I think that the case worker can change it, but the secured facility prefers for the people here to be "in" custody security level. It validates why we are at a medium security facility, even though we are "minimum" security status. I know that this place wouldn't consider it, but it would make a lot of sense, since so many minimum security people are here for medical reasons, to have a housing unit specifically for "minimum-out" inmates. We could, therefore, have the same rights as people in a camp. However, they cannot do that, as I know in my head, how unmanageable that would be. You can't have some inmates roaming the grounds, while others have to be racked up. Instead, treating every inmate the same, is the only way to control such an uncontrollable situation.
In men's federal prisons, there are several medical facilities. They have med-camps, med-low, med - medium, and even, med-max facilities. There are several of each type. Male inmates in medical facilities are still, usually, placed within the 500 mile mark of their home. With only one female medical facility, we are flown here from all over the county, put all together, and live in the medium-security experience. I know that it could be a lot worse, but based on my sentence, crime, and my security level, my experience should be different.
Although, there are no "shoulds," we are sent where we are supposed to be to gain the experiences we are supposed to gain, in order to learn whatever it is we are supposed to learn. I know that I am here, at Carswell, for a reason. I know that my being here has helped others. I, also, know that other's being here has helped me. I know that working in the education department here, has made me a better educator, and a deeper thinker about higher and adult education. I know that I was meant to meet South my first day here, and have her friendship and trust. I am glad to have made other friends that I can honestly say, I do hope to keep in touch with upon my release. I wrote many months ago, "you enter with not friends, you leave with no friends," or something like that. But the truth is, we do make friendships. Some may not last, others run deep. We are with each other at some of the lowest parts of our lives, and some "get" us, while other's don't.
The old saying that goes something like, "People enter our lives for a reason, season, or a lifetime," is certainly true. I know that people, here, are part of my life for one of those three things. Even the ones that I fear or who are angry and mean, have a "reason" to be in my life. Others, I may only know well, while we are incarcerated, they are my "season" connections. We lift each other up and support each other for now, knowing that once we walk outside the gates, we may never speak again. Then there are those I hope are "lifetime." They are good people. They are thinkers, caring, funny, intelligent, nerdy, beautiful, creative, and interesting. I can honestly say that there's less than a handful of people I've met here who I hope are going to be with me for a "lifetime," but that's all I need. I have incredible "lifetime" friends back home, but prison is making my life richer, by bringing new people into it that bring me happiness and compassion. Like I said, people who I "get" and who "get" me.
Anyway, similar experiences, similar road blocks, can bring people together. I believe that is what happened when I walked into Carswell. It is what starts conversations with "why am I minimum-in status?" A simple conversation can lead to a new friendship. Even as we may not fully understand the reasons for what brings us all together, we can certainly understand the experience of finding ourselves here together.
It's easy, first, to explain "out." "Out" is that we are camp status, can be in a non-secured environment, and can see medical providers and others off the prison grounds without being handcuffed and shackled when we go. "In," is the opposite of that. "In" means that we are designated to a secured environment, it's a higher level of security, and if we have an appointment off of the facilities grounds, we are shackled and handcuffed. Since I was designated, "minimum-in," had my referral for a rhuematology appointment occurred, I would have been handcuffed and shackled for the medical trip.
This really disturbed me. I was nervous about walking with leg shackles. I have a limp and my balance is not great, so I am concerned about the chain/cuff restrictions. However, that appointment has yet to occur (waiting 4 months so far). Many of us talk about the fact that we have to be shackled in our med-trips, as many of us, especially those who self-surrendered, have never even been handcuffed. During this entire ordeal, I have never been handcuffed, which those who were officially arrested think those of us who say that have to be lying. Our experiences leading us through the legal process are so different.
Anyway, we are all told different things on why our status starts as "minimum - in" rather than "out," since we are camp eligible except for medical reasons. Almost all of us started with "in," myself, Nurse, Freckles, Mama, etc. South is the only person I know who did not start with an "in" status, although her sentence was for only 6 months, so perhaps that's why. All of us have been asking why we have "in" status and how we can get it changed to "out." At first, I was told that anyone with a medical issue has to be evaluated before they can receive out status, and it takes about 6 months. Next time, I was told it takes about 7 months. The next time, I was told it was changed to "out" the week before because of them making me eligible for the camp across the street (this is the time I learned that I was being sent to the camp, which since has been recanted, but now may be happening again). With "minimum-in" status, we cannot go to the camp across the street, or any camp for that matter. So, for a couple weeks, now, I've been "minimum-out" (thank god).
However, several of my friends are trying to figure out how their status can be changed. From my experience, I think that the case worker can change it, but the secured facility prefers for the people here to be "in" custody security level. It validates why we are at a medium security facility, even though we are "minimum" security status. I know that this place wouldn't consider it, but it would make a lot of sense, since so many minimum security people are here for medical reasons, to have a housing unit specifically for "minimum-out" inmates. We could, therefore, have the same rights as people in a camp. However, they cannot do that, as I know in my head, how unmanageable that would be. You can't have some inmates roaming the grounds, while others have to be racked up. Instead, treating every inmate the same, is the only way to control such an uncontrollable situation.
In men's federal prisons, there are several medical facilities. They have med-camps, med-low, med - medium, and even, med-max facilities. There are several of each type. Male inmates in medical facilities are still, usually, placed within the 500 mile mark of their home. With only one female medical facility, we are flown here from all over the county, put all together, and live in the medium-security experience. I know that it could be a lot worse, but based on my sentence, crime, and my security level, my experience should be different.
Although, there are no "shoulds," we are sent where we are supposed to be to gain the experiences we are supposed to gain, in order to learn whatever it is we are supposed to learn. I know that I am here, at Carswell, for a reason. I know that my being here has helped others. I, also, know that other's being here has helped me. I know that working in the education department here, has made me a better educator, and a deeper thinker about higher and adult education. I know that I was meant to meet South my first day here, and have her friendship and trust. I am glad to have made other friends that I can honestly say, I do hope to keep in touch with upon my release. I wrote many months ago, "you enter with not friends, you leave with no friends," or something like that. But the truth is, we do make friendships. Some may not last, others run deep. We are with each other at some of the lowest parts of our lives, and some "get" us, while other's don't.
The old saying that goes something like, "People enter our lives for a reason, season, or a lifetime," is certainly true. I know that people, here, are part of my life for one of those three things. Even the ones that I fear or who are angry and mean, have a "reason" to be in my life. Others, I may only know well, while we are incarcerated, they are my "season" connections. We lift each other up and support each other for now, knowing that once we walk outside the gates, we may never speak again. Then there are those I hope are "lifetime." They are good people. They are thinkers, caring, funny, intelligent, nerdy, beautiful, creative, and interesting. I can honestly say that there's less than a handful of people I've met here who I hope are going to be with me for a "lifetime," but that's all I need. I have incredible "lifetime" friends back home, but prison is making my life richer, by bringing new people into it that bring me happiness and compassion. Like I said, people who I "get" and who "get" me.
Anyway, similar experiences, similar road blocks, can bring people together. I believe that is what happened when I walked into Carswell. It is what starts conversations with "why am I minimum-in status?" A simple conversation can lead to a new friendship. Even as we may not fully understand the reasons for what brings us all together, we can certainly understand the experience of finding ourselves here together.
From Dragonfly: Acceptance Again
In the past, I've written you about acceptance. It is such an important way to deal with imprisonment, consequences, and things that just don't go as we had planned. I had no ability to understand "acceptance" when I was lost in addiction. Addiction is all about chasing something, something different, and not living in the day, but living in a dream world with endless possibilities. Addiction is about self-hatred, lack of reality, hurting oneself, and blaming everyone else. Addiction is a lost-world, where our thoughts and our actions do not match, where we are the center of the universe, and where others perceptions of us matter much more than our own perception of ourselves. It is a time when our fears dictate our actions and running away from consequences is a matter of survival.
Acceptance is a step toward reality. If we can accept and love ourselves. If we can accept and thrive in our consequences. If we can live in the day and let go of our past demons and stop the worry of what is to come, we can find true acceptance. Sometimes I wonder if I am strong enough, yet, here I am, four months into my imprisonment, and I am still believing in my serenity. I am still loving my friends and family, and they are loving me in return. I still turn to my higher power when I feel powerless, and I am still not gambling, and I've not crossed into a different addiction. I am accepting the circumstances of my situation, and I even laugh every now and then. Yesterday, my best laugh came when I was reading the January edition of "Reader's Digest." There was a picture in there that was funny, although we know it was not intended that way - it was connected to a serious story. I made my entire table of friends laugh as I made a "crack" about the photo. We laughed hard. We needed that laugh. Perhaps it would not have struck us as funny outside of where we are, but it did last night, and I'm grateful for that. I'm also grateful that I helped others find some laughter. Yesterday, was a sad day for many. A friend, Mama, was missing her kids, especially since her middle child turned six yesterday. A bunch of us were missing Star, as she was moved to a room in the medical center - since she is less than one month from having her baby. It will be rare, now, for us to see her. With Christmas approaching, those in their first year (especially) are having a tough time thinking of the holidays without their family. Some are receiving cards from friends and family members for the holiday, that they haven't heard from in months, or even a year. I know that I've received numerous cards from G.A. members, who may or may not really know who I am. I appreciate all the love and support, others just go to dark places. They are, often, unable to accept that their life has brought them to this place.
I have no idea how this experience would have been, had I been having it five years ago, when I was just trying to understand my addiction, and my self-hatred was at an all-time high. I know that "acceptance" would have not been a part of my experience, I was too 'broken' to see through my actions, the consequences, or that I could have a future beyond this experience. Since I live in the day, I know that I can not even begin to know what that future looks like, but in the past, I would have made up a million stories in my head of the hatred, failures, and demons that would follow me. Today, I do not. I am, of course, concerned greatly about what comes after this, and even what the next 4-5 months here will be like, but it is something I release when the fears grow.
I know from experience, that my life is never where I think it will be, and my thoughts are always worse than reality. In reality, some people thrive even in the worst of circumstances. For me, I know that I am not in the worst of circumstances - there are prisons all over this world far worse than I am in. There are people imprisoned far longer than I am, for crimes they may not even have committed. There are people who fear for their life, just for being who they are, on the streets in nearly every country. There are people who sacrificed years of their lives for ensuring a better future for the future generations. I can always think about Nelson Mandela and his book, "Long Walk to Freedom," and the prison I visited that showed me where he lived for most of the 27 years he was incarcerated, and I know that there are countless others who have done similar for their beliefs and the betterment of others.
I am in prison due to my own actions. My addiction is an explanation of the actions, but I accept that I must face the consequences. I accept that I am one of few people who believe that prison is not an end, but just another road block to a wonderful and fulfilling life. I know that this experience is something I will grow from, and will not hide from in the future. If I am open and honest with others, they will be powerless to hold this experience over me as a threat. I will no longer be threatened about my past and who I was/am. Yes, I will always be a felon. Yes, I am going through a very difficult experience. Yes, without my addiction, I would never have made such bad choices. I accept myself. I accept my choices. I accept my situation. I will accept what happens next because of it. Acceptance, again, is the way to serenity. At least, it is for me.
Acceptance is a step toward reality. If we can accept and love ourselves. If we can accept and thrive in our consequences. If we can live in the day and let go of our past demons and stop the worry of what is to come, we can find true acceptance. Sometimes I wonder if I am strong enough, yet, here I am, four months into my imprisonment, and I am still believing in my serenity. I am still loving my friends and family, and they are loving me in return. I still turn to my higher power when I feel powerless, and I am still not gambling, and I've not crossed into a different addiction. I am accepting the circumstances of my situation, and I even laugh every now and then. Yesterday, my best laugh came when I was reading the January edition of "Reader's Digest." There was a picture in there that was funny, although we know it was not intended that way - it was connected to a serious story. I made my entire table of friends laugh as I made a "crack" about the photo. We laughed hard. We needed that laugh. Perhaps it would not have struck us as funny outside of where we are, but it did last night, and I'm grateful for that. I'm also grateful that I helped others find some laughter. Yesterday, was a sad day for many. A friend, Mama, was missing her kids, especially since her middle child turned six yesterday. A bunch of us were missing Star, as she was moved to a room in the medical center - since she is less than one month from having her baby. It will be rare, now, for us to see her. With Christmas approaching, those in their first year (especially) are having a tough time thinking of the holidays without their family. Some are receiving cards from friends and family members for the holiday, that they haven't heard from in months, or even a year. I know that I've received numerous cards from G.A. members, who may or may not really know who I am. I appreciate all the love and support, others just go to dark places. They are, often, unable to accept that their life has brought them to this place.
I have no idea how this experience would have been, had I been having it five years ago, when I was just trying to understand my addiction, and my self-hatred was at an all-time high. I know that "acceptance" would have not been a part of my experience, I was too 'broken' to see through my actions, the consequences, or that I could have a future beyond this experience. Since I live in the day, I know that I can not even begin to know what that future looks like, but in the past, I would have made up a million stories in my head of the hatred, failures, and demons that would follow me. Today, I do not. I am, of course, concerned greatly about what comes after this, and even what the next 4-5 months here will be like, but it is something I release when the fears grow.
I know from experience, that my life is never where I think it will be, and my thoughts are always worse than reality. In reality, some people thrive even in the worst of circumstances. For me, I know that I am not in the worst of circumstances - there are prisons all over this world far worse than I am in. There are people imprisoned far longer than I am, for crimes they may not even have committed. There are people who fear for their life, just for being who they are, on the streets in nearly every country. There are people who sacrificed years of their lives for ensuring a better future for the future generations. I can always think about Nelson Mandela and his book, "Long Walk to Freedom," and the prison I visited that showed me where he lived for most of the 27 years he was incarcerated, and I know that there are countless others who have done similar for their beliefs and the betterment of others.
I am in prison due to my own actions. My addiction is an explanation of the actions, but I accept that I must face the consequences. I accept that I am one of few people who believe that prison is not an end, but just another road block to a wonderful and fulfilling life. I know that this experience is something I will grow from, and will not hide from in the future. If I am open and honest with others, they will be powerless to hold this experience over me as a threat. I will no longer be threatened about my past and who I was/am. Yes, I will always be a felon. Yes, I am going through a very difficult experience. Yes, without my addiction, I would never have made such bad choices. I accept myself. I accept my choices. I accept my situation. I will accept what happens next because of it. Acceptance, again, is the way to serenity. At least, it is for me.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
From Dragonfly: The Grinch
I've mentioned before that Carswell is overflowing with "Christmas" decor. Well, 1 south has officially gotten into the spirit. With the theme, "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas," there is decor in the unit from the tall ceilings to under the stairwells. The creativity is amazing and everyone seems to be joining in. We have a sled coming down the stairs with a Grinch on it, carrying presents to Whoville (just like the end of the book). There are "who people" all over the place, on walls, on columns, in doorways. They are by themselves, gathered with family, carrying who babies, all the people, just like the book. There are snowflakes hanging from up above - 3D paper snowflakes at that! There are two Christmas trees, a fake chimney with the Grinch coming down it and stealing all the Christmas presents from under one of the trees, and a cardboard one-room Who house - built to size. It says, "Merry Christmas" everywhere - including in letters written like the book - where some of them are backwards. Around the entries to about 90% of the inmate rooms, there is decor done by the rooms - stockings, paper cut to look like Christmas lights, signs, Christmas cards received in the mail, and at my door is a bunch of hanging ball ornaments with a fake mistletoe hanging in the middle (there is no encouraged kissing under the mistletoe, as that is against the rules). Sometime between today and Monday, our decor will be compared to all the other units, and the winning unit will eat first next week. Yes, we still have to be tidy, but this week our inspection is really about the decorations.
To be honest, I'd been not feeling too well, which was as good an excuse as any to not participate in all the decorating. But, part of me, was honestly annoyed that so much is being done for Christmas - as a place where the idea of "separation of church and state" should be strong (it is a federal institution). But, I have to admit, I was watching many of my friends get into the spirit and it was nice seeing people smiling, working well together, and the large unit come together.
One thing still bothered me, though. I was upset that there was no acknowledgement of "others" - those who may not celebrate anything or who celebrate other holidays. Everyone has a right to their own beliefs and religion. So, yesterday, I decided to join the creativity. I attached four pieces of paper - all different colors - into a large square. On it I wrote, "Whoville loves diversity," and then listed "Merry Christmas," "Happy Channukah," "Happy Solstice," "Happy Kwanzaa," and "Happy New Year." I also drew a "who person" to adorn the sign. It is not a large sign, and it is hanging outside my room, which is kind of in the back corner, but I felt better. It felt right to acknowledge that we can be in the spirit, too, but celebrate different things.
Yes, I am Jewish, but I always loved the story about the Grinch. I, also, have a picture from my childhood, where my grandma, my sister, and I are with Santa Clause. I'm not sure if we gave our "lists" for presents for Channukah to Santa. Knowing myself to be a smart-ass, I probably looked at Santa and said, "I'm Jewish," or something like that. Maybe not. Christmas is a season, although the religious part of it happens over a couple of days. If it is the season that brings some happiness to people, especially in prison, than I will not fight it. As of now, that is all the decor is. There is not a large cross or anything like that - it is like a cartoon land in our unit and it makes everyone overwhelmed and happy at the same time. Dr. Seuss can make people of all ages happy.
I must mention something more about the creativity. I have never in my life seen better drawing, better painting, better thinking (creatively), than I do in my unit. Yesterday, Curls, another person in my unit who is also a tutor and I were talking about how traditional education left so many people behind. I told her that looking at the creativity, many of these people were strong creatively, perhaps not academically. However, our traditional school system does not necessary help the creative thrive, they may just draw all over the binders, instead of doing their math. These are some of the people who could make an entire generation of art reach new people. Think about some of the graffiti you've seen - where people with spray cans can make an incredible picture without even outlining it first. Yes, it's graffiti, but don't lose sight of the art. I certainly could NOT do that. I could maybe draw stick people, and now, I am getting good at drawing a snail. That's about the extent of my talent (okay, I did draw snowmen, Santa, menorahs, and the like on some holiday cards I mailed out, but I am VERY limited on what I can draw decently).
Today, will be a half day of work. They are going to do inmate recall soon after lunch. We had received Christmas cookies and egg nog a couple weeks back, today, we officially get our present - a bag full of snack food. From my understanding, each of us will get some chips, candy, and items not traditionally sold by our commissary. They say that the bags get smaller year after year. That doesn't surprise me, as the number of inmates has increased year after year. People are already talking about what they will exchange, even though they don't know the exact contents. They are basing it on past years. I will stand in the line this afternoon, glad to receive my "gift," and having everyone say "Merry Christmas" to me. I will not be the Grinch.
To be honest, I'd been not feeling too well, which was as good an excuse as any to not participate in all the decorating. But, part of me, was honestly annoyed that so much is being done for Christmas - as a place where the idea of "separation of church and state" should be strong (it is a federal institution). But, I have to admit, I was watching many of my friends get into the spirit and it was nice seeing people smiling, working well together, and the large unit come together.
One thing still bothered me, though. I was upset that there was no acknowledgement of "others" - those who may not celebrate anything or who celebrate other holidays. Everyone has a right to their own beliefs and religion. So, yesterday, I decided to join the creativity. I attached four pieces of paper - all different colors - into a large square. On it I wrote, "Whoville loves diversity," and then listed "Merry Christmas," "Happy Channukah," "Happy Solstice," "Happy Kwanzaa," and "Happy New Year." I also drew a "who person" to adorn the sign. It is not a large sign, and it is hanging outside my room, which is kind of in the back corner, but I felt better. It felt right to acknowledge that we can be in the spirit, too, but celebrate different things.
Yes, I am Jewish, but I always loved the story about the Grinch. I, also, have a picture from my childhood, where my grandma, my sister, and I are with Santa Clause. I'm not sure if we gave our "lists" for presents for Channukah to Santa. Knowing myself to be a smart-ass, I probably looked at Santa and said, "I'm Jewish," or something like that. Maybe not. Christmas is a season, although the religious part of it happens over a couple of days. If it is the season that brings some happiness to people, especially in prison, than I will not fight it. As of now, that is all the decor is. There is not a large cross or anything like that - it is like a cartoon land in our unit and it makes everyone overwhelmed and happy at the same time. Dr. Seuss can make people of all ages happy.
I must mention something more about the creativity. I have never in my life seen better drawing, better painting, better thinking (creatively), than I do in my unit. Yesterday, Curls, another person in my unit who is also a tutor and I were talking about how traditional education left so many people behind. I told her that looking at the creativity, many of these people were strong creatively, perhaps not academically. However, our traditional school system does not necessary help the creative thrive, they may just draw all over the binders, instead of doing their math. These are some of the people who could make an entire generation of art reach new people. Think about some of the graffiti you've seen - where people with spray cans can make an incredible picture without even outlining it first. Yes, it's graffiti, but don't lose sight of the art. I certainly could NOT do that. I could maybe draw stick people, and now, I am getting good at drawing a snail. That's about the extent of my talent (okay, I did draw snowmen, Santa, menorahs, and the like on some holiday cards I mailed out, but I am VERY limited on what I can draw decently).
Today, will be a half day of work. They are going to do inmate recall soon after lunch. We had received Christmas cookies and egg nog a couple weeks back, today, we officially get our present - a bag full of snack food. From my understanding, each of us will get some chips, candy, and items not traditionally sold by our commissary. They say that the bags get smaller year after year. That doesn't surprise me, as the number of inmates has increased year after year. People are already talking about what they will exchange, even though they don't know the exact contents. They are basing it on past years. I will stand in the line this afternoon, glad to receive my "gift," and having everyone say "Merry Christmas" to me. I will not be the Grinch.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
From Dragonfly: Signs of Compassion
It is easy to walk around prison with a negative attitude, be selfish, and not notice the little things. However, I try to be an observer, and there are always people doing for others - to me, these are signs that these people still have compassion, the ability to care for another human being, even as they are put into the impossibility of living here. I want to share some of the things that bring a smile to my face.
I see young women who will walk up to a wheel chair of a total stranger and offer to push them across campus or just to the next room (it all counts). Yesterday, I saw an African American older woman fixing the hair of a Caucasian older woman sitting next to her in the clinic. She had made her hair into a fancy bun and kept doing it until it was perfect with a smile on her face the entire time. I see women show concern for people who faint, have a seizure, or have an emergency sending them to the medical unit. I see women cry when someone else dies, loses a limb, has a still born, attempts suicide, or loses a family member back home. Empathy and sympathy exists in prison. I don't see this behavior by the staff - as they have to keep a professional distance - but I see it from inmate to inmate to inmate to inmate.
There is compassion for the women who have to shave their heads because it is falling out from chemo and compassion for the women who suddenly have to be on oxygen or a walker after being well just before. I see compassion for students who fail their GED, cosmetology, or apprenticeship tests. I see people helping others who are here for so long, they haven't seen family in more than 10 years. They become their family and help take care of them. I'm sure the compassion I see here is entirely different from what one would find at a men's prison. Gender roles would forbid the "touch" or gentleness.
I wanted to write all that, because I wanted to start with something positive, as today is a tough day for me. I had a bad migraine last night and with no ability to be in darkness or quiet, it was a very long night. So today, I have the migraine hangover that comes when the migraine lessens. With my migraine medication, I would have been able to start getting better last night, but since that medication was denied to me, I just have to wait it out or, if it I am desperate, I can get some i.v. medication. I wasn't quite that desperate last night - although, I did consider it. When I have the migraine hangover, I am usually more sensitive than usual, and that is certainly true today. Every little thing is getting to me. Things people say, or names people call me. Throughout my life I've found myself the brunt of many jokes, the same is true in prison. I can be neurotic, I know this. So, today, a coworker is calling me "Garfield" and laughing and I know not to care, but I don't like it. I didn't sit with her and the others from education at lunch because I was feeling sensitive. After lunch, I walked to their table and apologized for not sitting with them. I told them I was being sensitive. As with recovery, we apologize when we are in the wrong - always cleaning up our side of the street - but when they didn't apologize back, I don't care - because they are the ones needing to clean up their side of the street. I am an easy target, always have been, and I need not care what anyone else thinks of me - it is about them, not me.
I also went to the clinic today (again) because I wanted to know for sure if I was being released to the camp. Anyone medical, such as myself, needs 413 release to be transferred out of the medical facility. Don't ask what that all means, because I am not specifically certain, but it has to do with medical clearance. Turns out, after another 2 1/2 hours waiting to see the right person (and they only do this 1 time per month), that I was never being sent to the camp. My case worker must have confused me with someone else. The paperwork would have needed to start at the clinic, and it did not. So, they are now seeing if it was even possible to move me - do to my medication "methotrexate." They did confirm, once again, that I can ONLY be transferred to the camp across the street - no other camp in the federal system can take female prisoners at a care level 3 and I cannot have my care level decreased because of my medications and condition. I guess I'm going to be in the medical facility a bit longer. I'll update if I hear anything else.
So, that made me even more frustrated. Weeks ago I was told that I am being transferred. There were a bunch of emotions (bad and good) connected with that prospect. Today I find out that it was all a mistake. My case worker is on vacation until mid-January (yes, that long), so I can't even go to her and ask her about the mistake. Guess I need to get comfortable for a while. Good thing is, some of my friends are glad to hear I'm not moving right away. They certainly are showing compassion for my situation, but they are glad I'll be here with them through the holidays. Guess I can hold onto that.
I see young women who will walk up to a wheel chair of a total stranger and offer to push them across campus or just to the next room (it all counts). Yesterday, I saw an African American older woman fixing the hair of a Caucasian older woman sitting next to her in the clinic. She had made her hair into a fancy bun and kept doing it until it was perfect with a smile on her face the entire time. I see women show concern for people who faint, have a seizure, or have an emergency sending them to the medical unit. I see women cry when someone else dies, loses a limb, has a still born, attempts suicide, or loses a family member back home. Empathy and sympathy exists in prison. I don't see this behavior by the staff - as they have to keep a professional distance - but I see it from inmate to inmate to inmate to inmate.
There is compassion for the women who have to shave their heads because it is falling out from chemo and compassion for the women who suddenly have to be on oxygen or a walker after being well just before. I see compassion for students who fail their GED, cosmetology, or apprenticeship tests. I see people helping others who are here for so long, they haven't seen family in more than 10 years. They become their family and help take care of them. I'm sure the compassion I see here is entirely different from what one would find at a men's prison. Gender roles would forbid the "touch" or gentleness.
I wanted to write all that, because I wanted to start with something positive, as today is a tough day for me. I had a bad migraine last night and with no ability to be in darkness or quiet, it was a very long night. So today, I have the migraine hangover that comes when the migraine lessens. With my migraine medication, I would have been able to start getting better last night, but since that medication was denied to me, I just have to wait it out or, if it I am desperate, I can get some i.v. medication. I wasn't quite that desperate last night - although, I did consider it. When I have the migraine hangover, I am usually more sensitive than usual, and that is certainly true today. Every little thing is getting to me. Things people say, or names people call me. Throughout my life I've found myself the brunt of many jokes, the same is true in prison. I can be neurotic, I know this. So, today, a coworker is calling me "Garfield" and laughing and I know not to care, but I don't like it. I didn't sit with her and the others from education at lunch because I was feeling sensitive. After lunch, I walked to their table and apologized for not sitting with them. I told them I was being sensitive. As with recovery, we apologize when we are in the wrong - always cleaning up our side of the street - but when they didn't apologize back, I don't care - because they are the ones needing to clean up their side of the street. I am an easy target, always have been, and I need not care what anyone else thinks of me - it is about them, not me.
I also went to the clinic today (again) because I wanted to know for sure if I was being released to the camp. Anyone medical, such as myself, needs 413 release to be transferred out of the medical facility. Don't ask what that all means, because I am not specifically certain, but it has to do with medical clearance. Turns out, after another 2 1/2 hours waiting to see the right person (and they only do this 1 time per month), that I was never being sent to the camp. My case worker must have confused me with someone else. The paperwork would have needed to start at the clinic, and it did not. So, they are now seeing if it was even possible to move me - do to my medication "methotrexate." They did confirm, once again, that I can ONLY be transferred to the camp across the street - no other camp in the federal system can take female prisoners at a care level 3 and I cannot have my care level decreased because of my medications and condition. I guess I'm going to be in the medical facility a bit longer. I'll update if I hear anything else.
So, that made me even more frustrated. Weeks ago I was told that I am being transferred. There were a bunch of emotions (bad and good) connected with that prospect. Today I find out that it was all a mistake. My case worker is on vacation until mid-January (yes, that long), so I can't even go to her and ask her about the mistake. Guess I need to get comfortable for a while. Good thing is, some of my friends are glad to hear I'm not moving right away. They certainly are showing compassion for my situation, but they are glad I'll be here with them through the holidays. Guess I can hold onto that.
From Dragonfly: Sick Call
I have a recurring small health issue that I haven't had an issue with since I have been here for the past four months. The inner eye/edge of where the nose meets the eye gets red, inflamed, dry, scaly, itchy, and has slight pain. I don't worry about it, but when it first showed, just over a year ago, my doctor told me that I should always take care of it and prescribed me a gel-like steroid topical that is safe for eyes. I would goop it on mornings and nights, and the problem would mostly go away. In the year, I had three small flair ups of this slight irritation. Well, it started again about a week ago. Anyone who looked at me would ask what was wrong with my eye. I knew that it meant that I needed the steroid creme, but I dreaded the infamous sick call. I had made it four months at Carswell without having to go to sick-call and I was happy with that fact.
Sick call is only available Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. Any inmate with any medical problem, who needs a prescription refill, or has a medical issue of any type has to start with sick-call. Our sick call is in the clinic on the second floor of the main building and serves the entire inmate population. First, we each need to fill out a document before arrival that states why we are going to sick-call. We need to bring that document with us. At 6am, we have to be walking to the clinic (as soon as the housing units open for breakfast). We cannot go to eat first, as we must sign in by a certain time or we lose out on sick-call for the day. So, at 6am, I walk into the clinic, my book and my filled out sheet of paper in hand, and sign my name on "group 3." We are put into one of four groups based on the last two digits of our first five digits in our inmate i.d. number. The PA's that see the sick-call inmates rotate every quarter, so most people do not have a medical professional that sees them regularly.
Anyway, I have a seat and read my book, waiting for my name to be called. About 6:15am, a nurse walks around in an order selected by her, and picks up all the sick-call sheets. The first time my name is called is at 6:30am. A line of us are called to the vitals room, where my blood pressure is taken. I thought they would weigh me too, but they said that it takes too much time to do blood pressure and weight. As usual, my blood pressure is low - but seems quite low on the second number - 110 over 52. No one says anything about it, so neither do I. I am told to go back out to the waiting room, and the blue uncomfortable benches, and wait to be called by my Physician's Assistant. From what I could tell, the P.A.'s started to call people in about 7:30 or 8am. By 8am, the clinic waiting room is packed. The wheelchair/walker area does not serve everyone...
(Okay - I'm finishing this a day later... as I was writing the above, Lola came in and told me that Freckles would eat the ice cream that Nurse had saved for me... so I needed to save and come back - which is now on the next day... I got 3 spoonfuls of real vanilla ice cream. It was wonderful.)
Back to the clinic waiting room: So there are wheelchairs and people stacked everywhere - going out into the hallway, some people are sitting on the floor, others leaning up against the receptionist's booth. You have to say, "excuse me" about 15 times to walk across the room. Since I was there for sick-call at 6am, I had found my bench space and never moved from it.
If you've ever "waited" to see a medical provider, which everyone has, you know that people get impatient. Well, by 10am, I had heard the PA that I had to wait to see call back maybe 3 people... there were at least 20 of us assigned to her and there seemed no order to her decision on whom to call next. It certainly wasn't by the order we arrived and signed in, nor was it by the order that they collected our sick-call sheets.
At 10:20, someone waiting to be seen had a massive seizure right in front of me. If she is not supposed to be in stressful situations, then not being able to sit for hours in the clinic waiting room would surely bring on the seizure. There's no way of knowing who "needs" to sit and who doesn't. The most able body people tend to take up the benches and care not if someone elderly or really ill is standing for hours. Luckily, most of the elderly have wheelchairs and walkers - not so much because they need the help walking, but because they can sit during the long waits at pill line, the chow hall, clinic, and just about everywhere else. The seizure lasted several minutes. Even with it occurring in the clinic, it took a bit for a medical professional to head over to her. Of course, they needed to make sure people stepped back, so the seizure could end. They did not stick anything in the mouth.
(... another break from this writing... Freckles came into the email room and we went to breakfast... it's 6:40, so the going "bananas" crowd had already eaten...)
Anyway, finally a stretcher was brought out and the woman seizing was taken into an observation room. A lot of seizures happen here. I see one - or hear about on - almost daily. Before coming here, I had only seen one in my life. A lot of the people having seizures are diabetic. The other day, a woman in my unit went into a diabetic coma. Hours later, she was right back in our unit on her top bunk. How can they put people with seizure issues on a top bunk??
At 11am, I am still sitting in sick-call, waiting. I'm getting hungry (I hadn't eaten dinner the night before or breakfast that day, so I'm feeling the emptiness). There is still no sign of getting called by my P.A. and we cannot ask when we will be seen. Our duty is just to sit and wait. It's been 5 hours. I look to my right, and a woman next to me is reading her book... not sure the title, but the chapter she is reading is called, "If it ain't one ting, it's another." I couldn't agree more!!! We hear that food service is open and several people ask for permission to go eat... not granted.
I am fortunate to have thought to bring my own book. It is called, "A House in the Sky" and tells the story of the more than 460 days Amanda Lindhout spent as a captive in Somalia. It is a memoir, co-written by a well published journalist, and it is a great book. I will not say that it's a happy book (but since we know it's a first-person memoir, it's always good to know that she somehow survives this experience). I highly recommend the book - especially for people who love to travel to new places and have that adventure bug in them. However, be prepared for some very depressing and frightening moments as you read through - as being a captive in a terrorist country can never be a good thing. I read more than 200 pages while I am sitting at the clinic.
At 11:20, with my stomach gurgling, I hear my name. Finally. I walk back with the PA, who tells me that based on what I wrote, she believes I have something (I couldn't understand). She did not give me a more than a quick look, and told me that she will order me what she can, but most things are not allowed or in the pharmacy. I tell her my history with this issue, although she doesn't ask. She asks nothing about my general health. When you go to sick-call, you can ONLY discuss one thing. If you have more than one thing to discuss, you have to go that many days... wait that many hours... to be seen.
She says she will try to order what I need. She goes into the computer, and then says, the DOP won't approve the medicine I've taken in the past. She says, "I don't know why... It's really cheap." Even the medical providers are in disbelief of the limits of DOP health care. So, she says she will try to find something and that I can go. I ask, "how will I know if you are able to order a medication?" She says, go to the pharmacy (another long line) and see if I was successful. Otherwise, come back for another sick-call and we'll see what I can do..." Really!?!?!?
Well, at 3:30pm, I went to the pharmacy line and they did have something for me. It's an eye drop and meant for the eyes, but it says from her, to place the drop "outside my eye." It's the best she could do. Instead of having the cream, I have something that will run down my face the minute it is applied. The cream stays in place and I would sleep with it. That is Carswell health care - we'll see if the eye drops (they do have steroids in them) help.
Around the same time as I was getting the medication, I heard tragic news. A woman in the unit next to me was found hanging, and unresponsive. Luckily, she was found in time and is breathing. That means that she has to go to suicide watch now. She will spend days naked, except for an apron, with someone watching her 24/7. For someone who was obviously depressed, having to be watched by a stranger while you are naked can't help. They say that this time of the year is hard for many people in prison. We are away from our loved ones at a time when we would normally be surrounded by them. I'm glad she survived, but afraid for what's next for her. Will she get the real help she needs? Will they just move her to the mental health floor, where she will be surrounded by people with severe mental impairments? I don't know.
I know this place is listed as a health care facility, but I fail to understand the concept of just keeping us alive, but not an attempt to help us actually thrive. Sick-call is just one example of a bureaucratic block to actually getting the health care we need. People avoid going, because they don't want to wait so long, they can't sit that long, or they don't trust what the medical providers will say. There are just too many stories of problems. Inmate.com wasn't wrong, though, that the sick-call experience should be avoided if at all possible.
Sick call is only available Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. Any inmate with any medical problem, who needs a prescription refill, or has a medical issue of any type has to start with sick-call. Our sick call is in the clinic on the second floor of the main building and serves the entire inmate population. First, we each need to fill out a document before arrival that states why we are going to sick-call. We need to bring that document with us. At 6am, we have to be walking to the clinic (as soon as the housing units open for breakfast). We cannot go to eat first, as we must sign in by a certain time or we lose out on sick-call for the day. So, at 6am, I walk into the clinic, my book and my filled out sheet of paper in hand, and sign my name on "group 3." We are put into one of four groups based on the last two digits of our first five digits in our inmate i.d. number. The PA's that see the sick-call inmates rotate every quarter, so most people do not have a medical professional that sees them regularly.
Anyway, I have a seat and read my book, waiting for my name to be called. About 6:15am, a nurse walks around in an order selected by her, and picks up all the sick-call sheets. The first time my name is called is at 6:30am. A line of us are called to the vitals room, where my blood pressure is taken. I thought they would weigh me too, but they said that it takes too much time to do blood pressure and weight. As usual, my blood pressure is low - but seems quite low on the second number - 110 over 52. No one says anything about it, so neither do I. I am told to go back out to the waiting room, and the blue uncomfortable benches, and wait to be called by my Physician's Assistant. From what I could tell, the P.A.'s started to call people in about 7:30 or 8am. By 8am, the clinic waiting room is packed. The wheelchair/walker area does not serve everyone...
(Okay - I'm finishing this a day later... as I was writing the above, Lola came in and told me that Freckles would eat the ice cream that Nurse had saved for me... so I needed to save and come back - which is now on the next day... I got 3 spoonfuls of real vanilla ice cream. It was wonderful.)
Back to the clinic waiting room: So there are wheelchairs and people stacked everywhere - going out into the hallway, some people are sitting on the floor, others leaning up against the receptionist's booth. You have to say, "excuse me" about 15 times to walk across the room. Since I was there for sick-call at 6am, I had found my bench space and never moved from it.
If you've ever "waited" to see a medical provider, which everyone has, you know that people get impatient. Well, by 10am, I had heard the PA that I had to wait to see call back maybe 3 people... there were at least 20 of us assigned to her and there seemed no order to her decision on whom to call next. It certainly wasn't by the order we arrived and signed in, nor was it by the order that they collected our sick-call sheets.
At 10:20, someone waiting to be seen had a massive seizure right in front of me. If she is not supposed to be in stressful situations, then not being able to sit for hours in the clinic waiting room would surely bring on the seizure. There's no way of knowing who "needs" to sit and who doesn't. The most able body people tend to take up the benches and care not if someone elderly or really ill is standing for hours. Luckily, most of the elderly have wheelchairs and walkers - not so much because they need the help walking, but because they can sit during the long waits at pill line, the chow hall, clinic, and just about everywhere else. The seizure lasted several minutes. Even with it occurring in the clinic, it took a bit for a medical professional to head over to her. Of course, they needed to make sure people stepped back, so the seizure could end. They did not stick anything in the mouth.
(... another break from this writing... Freckles came into the email room and we went to breakfast... it's 6:40, so the going "bananas" crowd had already eaten...)
Anyway, finally a stretcher was brought out and the woman seizing was taken into an observation room. A lot of seizures happen here. I see one - or hear about on - almost daily. Before coming here, I had only seen one in my life. A lot of the people having seizures are diabetic. The other day, a woman in my unit went into a diabetic coma. Hours later, she was right back in our unit on her top bunk. How can they put people with seizure issues on a top bunk??
At 11am, I am still sitting in sick-call, waiting. I'm getting hungry (I hadn't eaten dinner the night before or breakfast that day, so I'm feeling the emptiness). There is still no sign of getting called by my P.A. and we cannot ask when we will be seen. Our duty is just to sit and wait. It's been 5 hours. I look to my right, and a woman next to me is reading her book... not sure the title, but the chapter she is reading is called, "If it ain't one ting, it's another." I couldn't agree more!!! We hear that food service is open and several people ask for permission to go eat... not granted.
I am fortunate to have thought to bring my own book. It is called, "A House in the Sky" and tells the story of the more than 460 days Amanda Lindhout spent as a captive in Somalia. It is a memoir, co-written by a well published journalist, and it is a great book. I will not say that it's a happy book (but since we know it's a first-person memoir, it's always good to know that she somehow survives this experience). I highly recommend the book - especially for people who love to travel to new places and have that adventure bug in them. However, be prepared for some very depressing and frightening moments as you read through - as being a captive in a terrorist country can never be a good thing. I read more than 200 pages while I am sitting at the clinic.
At 11:20, with my stomach gurgling, I hear my name. Finally. I walk back with the PA, who tells me that based on what I wrote, she believes I have something (I couldn't understand). She did not give me a more than a quick look, and told me that she will order me what she can, but most things are not allowed or in the pharmacy. I tell her my history with this issue, although she doesn't ask. She asks nothing about my general health. When you go to sick-call, you can ONLY discuss one thing. If you have more than one thing to discuss, you have to go that many days... wait that many hours... to be seen.
She says she will try to order what I need. She goes into the computer, and then says, the DOP won't approve the medicine I've taken in the past. She says, "I don't know why... It's really cheap." Even the medical providers are in disbelief of the limits of DOP health care. So, she says she will try to find something and that I can go. I ask, "how will I know if you are able to order a medication?" She says, go to the pharmacy (another long line) and see if I was successful. Otherwise, come back for another sick-call and we'll see what I can do..." Really!?!?!?
Well, at 3:30pm, I went to the pharmacy line and they did have something for me. It's an eye drop and meant for the eyes, but it says from her, to place the drop "outside my eye." It's the best she could do. Instead of having the cream, I have something that will run down my face the minute it is applied. The cream stays in place and I would sleep with it. That is Carswell health care - we'll see if the eye drops (they do have steroids in them) help.
Around the same time as I was getting the medication, I heard tragic news. A woman in the unit next to me was found hanging, and unresponsive. Luckily, she was found in time and is breathing. That means that she has to go to suicide watch now. She will spend days naked, except for an apron, with someone watching her 24/7. For someone who was obviously depressed, having to be watched by a stranger while you are naked can't help. They say that this time of the year is hard for many people in prison. We are away from our loved ones at a time when we would normally be surrounded by them. I'm glad she survived, but afraid for what's next for her. Will she get the real help she needs? Will they just move her to the mental health floor, where she will be surrounded by people with severe mental impairments? I don't know.
I know this place is listed as a health care facility, but I fail to understand the concept of just keeping us alive, but not an attempt to help us actually thrive. Sick-call is just one example of a bureaucratic block to actually getting the health care we need. People avoid going, because they don't want to wait so long, they can't sit that long, or they don't trust what the medical providers will say. There are just too many stories of problems. Inmate.com wasn't wrong, though, that the sick-call experience should be avoided if at all possible.
Monday, December 16, 2013
From Dragonfly: Budgeting
This week is the "scholastic book fair" at Carswell. Inmates can shop books and goodies to send home to their families. Some inmates spend like $200... most can't afford much. It also happens to be the last commissary week before the new years, so people are needing to stock up. I am trying to live on a tighter budget, but it is hard. I spend almost the $70/month they allow us for our phone time. A lot of people have their loved ones have local numbers, that decreases the cost of phone calls significantly. Unfortunately, for me, every phone call is long distance. My average phone call is about $3.50. Then there's Trulinks - which I adore. Trulinks costs $0.05/minute. So, if I spend 30 minutes on the email system, it costs $1.50... that's about $45 per month! In commissary, I always purchase beverages - apple juice, cranberry juice, v8, and a 6-pack of sprite. I drink the juices in the morning and/or just after I am off work. The sprite is a special treat every so often. Those cost $3.30 for the 6-pack of soda, $80 for the juices, and $1.20 for each can of v8. It all adds up!
Then, there are the people who hustle for what they want, and those of us who purchase it. The hustlers work newbies (a lot) and those who want favors (such as laundry, ironing, hair braiding, etc.). When a newbie comes into prison, especially one that self surrenders, the hustlers start to be nice, show them around, and offer a friendly ear. What they are doing, for the most part, is trying to figure out if the person will be a gold mine. Will this person want 'favors?' Will this person buy me coffee or creamer? If I tell them that I haven't had money for a month, will they have their family deposit money into my account? This is how the hustlers think... and they are everywhere.
I had a couple roommates in the bus stop who were experienced hustlers. They'd be all nice and then go in for the, "Do you shop this week? Can you get me... I'll pay you back or do ______ for you." It's so common. I made myself clear immediately that my money is tight, and, for the most part, I haven't been hustled. But I say "for the most part," because, in fact, I have been hustled a couple times. My roommate, Bandana, wanted creamer and I got it for her. She promised me crackers in return... I waited 2 1/2 weeks for my crackers. I had to bug her constantly - but she's a true hustler. She wasn't going to get my crackers, someone else that owed her had to pay her the crackers so that she could give them to me. So, in fact, her payment was dependent on someone else's payment. Not cool. Recently, I bought a large mug, when I was given a cooler the next day, and I can only have one. My roommate, Braids, wanted to buy the large mug, but she never actually came through with what she's owed, so I took it back and gave it to a friend instead.
We all have to be careful of the hustlers, cause it can cause a big issue with our budgets. South was an automatic target. She is older and people immediately gravitated to her and called her, "grandma." They played nice and told her that they have her back. Then, they would say, "Grandma, do you have any cookies?" South would go to her locker and give them some cookies. They'd say, "Grandma, can you get me some ice cream?" She'd do it. She didn't realize she was being played until no one gave anything back. South and I have fed people many times, who then turn around and eat in front of us without giving us anything. I officially only feed a couple people, the ones who also make me lunch or dinner once in a while. No longer do I care if I bring out a sweet for South, that I need to bring one for everyone at the table. They can watch us eat our dessert - no more sharing. There's always the friendships that do share, though. Me, South, Nurse, Lola, and some others, we are sharers with each other. We make meals together and we always pay our debts. We can trust each other financially.
Budgeting is especially hard for those who ask others to do them lots of projects/favors. Some people will owe $10 for a painted mug, $5 for laundry services, $2 for ironing, $20 for personalized cards, $35 on a crocheted blanket (plus the cost of yarn), etc. Sometimes, people go to commissary and nothing they are purchasing is for them - they are all for debts. The worst thing is when someone asks you to pay a debt with something that is out - like my crackers were - as then it can take weeks to pay off a debt. The person will harass you until the debt is paid in full. These are people who out on the streets had other kinds of debts and the consequences of not paying your debt was severe. They don't play games.
It was interesting this morning over breakfast. I was talking with Lola and we were talking about how we make so much less money than people who are hustlers. Hustlers make $2.50 per load of laundry. They do each client's laundry 2x/week. With only 2 clients, they will make $10/week - $40/month. As you all know, I work every day, 7+ hours/day, and make about $15 per month. There's something wrong there. It is far more attractive to be a hustler for good money, than to work the traditional jobs. Just like the kinds of hustling they did on the streets - quick, fast, incredible amounts of money, for practically no real work (standing on a street corner and selling something illegal). It's really sad that the same behavior and mentality helps them be successful in prison. Additionally, these hustlers show no money on their books (they are counted as indigent), so they don't have their income count against their FRP payment calculation.
I'm glad I am not a hustler. I love my job and I am grateful that some money is put into my account every month. I do my own laundry, I am making my own cards/gifts. Budgeting is really hard in prison, but it's not going to be any easier walking out of prison without a job and income. I figure, no time like the present, to learn how to really live within my budget.
Then, there are the people who hustle for what they want, and those of us who purchase it. The hustlers work newbies (a lot) and those who want favors (such as laundry, ironing, hair braiding, etc.). When a newbie comes into prison, especially one that self surrenders, the hustlers start to be nice, show them around, and offer a friendly ear. What they are doing, for the most part, is trying to figure out if the person will be a gold mine. Will this person want 'favors?' Will this person buy me coffee or creamer? If I tell them that I haven't had money for a month, will they have their family deposit money into my account? This is how the hustlers think... and they are everywhere.
I had a couple roommates in the bus stop who were experienced hustlers. They'd be all nice and then go in for the, "Do you shop this week? Can you get me... I'll pay you back or do ______ for you." It's so common. I made myself clear immediately that my money is tight, and, for the most part, I haven't been hustled. But I say "for the most part," because, in fact, I have been hustled a couple times. My roommate, Bandana, wanted creamer and I got it for her. She promised me crackers in return... I waited 2 1/2 weeks for my crackers. I had to bug her constantly - but she's a true hustler. She wasn't going to get my crackers, someone else that owed her had to pay her the crackers so that she could give them to me. So, in fact, her payment was dependent on someone else's payment. Not cool. Recently, I bought a large mug, when I was given a cooler the next day, and I can only have one. My roommate, Braids, wanted to buy the large mug, but she never actually came through with what she's owed, so I took it back and gave it to a friend instead.
We all have to be careful of the hustlers, cause it can cause a big issue with our budgets. South was an automatic target. She is older and people immediately gravitated to her and called her, "grandma." They played nice and told her that they have her back. Then, they would say, "Grandma, do you have any cookies?" South would go to her locker and give them some cookies. They'd say, "Grandma, can you get me some ice cream?" She'd do it. She didn't realize she was being played until no one gave anything back. South and I have fed people many times, who then turn around and eat in front of us without giving us anything. I officially only feed a couple people, the ones who also make me lunch or dinner once in a while. No longer do I care if I bring out a sweet for South, that I need to bring one for everyone at the table. They can watch us eat our dessert - no more sharing. There's always the friendships that do share, though. Me, South, Nurse, Lola, and some others, we are sharers with each other. We make meals together and we always pay our debts. We can trust each other financially.
Budgeting is especially hard for those who ask others to do them lots of projects/favors. Some people will owe $10 for a painted mug, $5 for laundry services, $2 for ironing, $20 for personalized cards, $35 on a crocheted blanket (plus the cost of yarn), etc. Sometimes, people go to commissary and nothing they are purchasing is for them - they are all for debts. The worst thing is when someone asks you to pay a debt with something that is out - like my crackers were - as then it can take weeks to pay off a debt. The person will harass you until the debt is paid in full. These are people who out on the streets had other kinds of debts and the consequences of not paying your debt was severe. They don't play games.
It was interesting this morning over breakfast. I was talking with Lola and we were talking about how we make so much less money than people who are hustlers. Hustlers make $2.50 per load of laundry. They do each client's laundry 2x/week. With only 2 clients, they will make $10/week - $40/month. As you all know, I work every day, 7+ hours/day, and make about $15 per month. There's something wrong there. It is far more attractive to be a hustler for good money, than to work the traditional jobs. Just like the kinds of hustling they did on the streets - quick, fast, incredible amounts of money, for practically no real work (standing on a street corner and selling something illegal). It's really sad that the same behavior and mentality helps them be successful in prison. Additionally, these hustlers show no money on their books (they are counted as indigent), so they don't have their income count against their FRP payment calculation.
I'm glad I am not a hustler. I love my job and I am grateful that some money is put into my account every month. I do my own laundry, I am making my own cards/gifts. Budgeting is really hard in prison, but it's not going to be any easier walking out of prison without a job and income. I figure, no time like the present, to learn how to really live within my budget.
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