what’s it like?
I’ve been telling everyone it’s like working in a normal hospital except you have officers around and the clinkle-clankle of chains and handcuffs.
Not all inmates are in cuffs. Some are porters who meticulously clean the floors all day long. It’s got to be the cleanest place in town. They have a staff supervisor that overseas them and joins them on the stairwells.
*Side Note, my first week, I felt completely vulnerable on the stairwells. There are cameras there at all angles, but my memory went to the correctional nurses blog where a nurse said the cameras in her room weren’t even hooked up and she got into situation. But I learn that the porters don’t have key cards that get them into doors without their supervisor there. And if they’re on the stairs, then you should see their supervisor in the midst. If not, then get out.
The General Population (GP) inmates come in “freely” but are only escorted back to appointments when directed. Those that are Condemned (such a ominous description) or those that are on watch for having done something “naughty” are escorted from their housing unit in waist cuffs and sometimes ankle cuffs (though I haven’t seen those yet). Being “naughty” suggests that they either did something to another inmate (ie stabbing) or to an officer.
There are all kinds of specialty medical visits going on through various offices on our floor: optometry, dental, podiatry, in addition to nursing and emergency care. Some offices hold telehealth session for MD’s, nursing and PT. It’s a busy place from 7am to 2pm.
Then it gets quiet. I sit in my locked office to finish up the days documentation and prepping for the next day. I’m keenly aware of the porters passing by, likely to see if the office is empty so they can clean it for the day. If the door is closed, they will glance in. If the door is open, they likely pass by without looking. They have been trained that they are not to engage unless engaged with first. Some offer light conversation or ask questions.
“What’s that for?”–asking about the goniometer in my hand. “Is that for helping older people?”–inquiring about the walker. And, “those are some nice tennis shoes.” It’s usually harmless and cordial, but I try not to linger too long and stop the conversation if it starts to get too personal. Vague answers are best. They know they’re not supposed to pry, but I suppose they’re curious, and also are perhaps mining for information to use later.
If I’m asked where I went to school–“California.” This would be the same answer for where I grew up. “Did I have a nice holiday with family?”–“yes, it was peaceful and restful.”
Sometimes they want to talk about their situation. Either vaguely or specifically why they’re behind bars. I’ll get to this in a future post.
And I guide them back to the session….the exercises, and trying to keep focus on their intention and purpose and what’s important to them to get back to. Sometimes this is a hard question for them to answer. They aren’t used to being asked what’s important to them. So much gets stripped away with choice here. Often it’s, “I want to get stronger so I can get back to my pushups” or fill in the blank for the exercise.
I try to push them a little further into exploring…..no, but what’s really important to you in moving forward? What would being stronger help you do in your daily life? Sometimes the answer is, “to be ready for whatever is coming at me.” Ok, I’ll chalk that one up to “survival.” And sometimes they come around….to be able to sleep better, to be able to sit in class longer, to be able to walk so they can lose weight.
Anyhow, this is just a little snippet of life in the hospital. I’m sure I’ll share more but don’t want to get ahead of myself. Keep reading to find out.
*just to note, I’ll be leaving out the name of the institution that I work at. I don’t know the rules about providing details about prisons, so I’ll just keep it at: I work at a state prison in California. Images are not from the prison as no devices are allowed in.
Prison PT 
Leave a comment