Session Two: Sending The Pain Further...Below

[sirdaywalker]

This will be the second installment, "Session Two"...
for those who have not yet read Session One, please take the time to gander that post.


Meanwhile, I have taken the trailing part of Session One and placed it just above Session Two so it will be easier to pick up where you left off...lol, it helps the flow n stuff. Thank you all for some of the warmest, kindest reception I have ever received for any piece I have ever written!
Here Goes...

I will ask that you all take a moment to click the link below, and listen to the song that has inspired the title of this story. Also, because I do reference some of the lyrics and how deep they seemed to resonate in my mind during this whole ordeal in the story...it carries a certain potency and importance for me.



Send_The_Pain_Below


(From the end of Session One)
They brought in a wheelchair. It had no feet anchors, so as they were wheeling me forward, my feet were dragging. It hurt like hell, but so long as they got me the hell out of that holding cell I didn’t really care. He announces (kinda like ‘dead butch rolling’), “This inmate has MS and needs to get to the infirmary…” Everyone stared at me like I was a Jerry’s Kid. I was almost impressed with the sense of urgency in which he said this. I am guessing a blue foot gets me an upgrade to medical. Whatever. Just get me there, I thought. I was so groggy and out of it, and by now I’m pretty sure I was drooling too. I wondered how long I had been in that cell. I wondered what time it was, what day it was. I kept hearing the sounds of a keypad beeping each time we went through another door. They rolled me into a small cell, my own cell…and I was so grateful; I was thanking them like an idiot. They supplied me with a walker, and took the chair away. There was an old broken gurney in this cell, but it was somewhere to lie down that was not the floor. I wondered when I would get my meds. I began to tear up, and I was pretty sure it was many emotions taking me on all at once. I almost made myself chuckle when I looked over and noted that the sink and the toilet…were porcelain. It felt like an upgrade over that damned stainless steel one. I crawled up onto the gurney, did my best to wrap my feet in that thin assed sheet, and pulled my Swiss cheese blanket up over the rest of me. At last, I was saved. I drifted off to the sounds of beeping each time the keypads were being punched, and the occasional phone ring.
Finally, there was the sound of silence.


End of Session One

Send The Pain Below
~Session Two~

Suddenly, a ray of bright light and the sound of the drop down window on my door startled me awake. A tray of food was being shoved through. I did my best to move enough to make sure this was not a wicked version of heaven and hell mixed, reached blindly for my shades and hobbled to the door on the walker. Okay, so it was a whole 4-foot wobble, but I can assure you it was just as tedious as a marathon at that point. Immediately, I was questioned on my glasses and I replied with a satisfactory answer and requested the light be turned off for me again. With resistance my request was so granted. I managed to get the tray over to the bed in about a dozen expeditious, yet less than graceful moves. It was piss-porridge slop, a teeny carton of milk…and a biscuit with a jelly pack. I did my best, but only managed to consume a small portion. I maneuvered my way back to the drop down to return the tray, and took a moment to observe my new surroundings. I was in the corner cell, a direct view of the in and out keypad door as well as the central desk area. As far as I could tell, the staff at that point consisted of a couple of officers. These are not the same ones from before, and throughout my stay it was rare that the same officers showed up on duty in here. Most of them, in fact…acted as though it were shitter duty and someone made them be here because they drew the short end of the straw. I went ahead and opened my tub, and retrieved the little toiletries. Imagine my reaction when I saw the toothpaste and a couple of other items labeled “Maximum Security”. What the hell is that all about? I realize I look like a dirty gothic hippy, but I assure you I am harmless! Hey, I grew up in the Berkeley and Oakland area, what do you expect. Anyway, I brushed my teeth, and took the flimsy comb out to brush my hair. At least it was something to do...right? I kept trying to get the attention of someone to inquire as to the status of my meds. I was told that there was nothing there for me, but the nurse would be in later. I climbed back onto the gurney, and attempted to ignore all the sounds, all the pain, and all the ignorance. The gurney had been set with one end propped up a bit, so I attempted to lower it down. No such luck, it was definitely stuck in that position and that sucked, because it was killing my body like this. I turned to the opposite end, and now my feet we having to make an incline, but I was exhausted from the failed rearranging and decided to just deal with it. Soon, I told myself…soon I would be in front of a judge and let the hell out of here! To be honest, I wasn’t sure what day it was, or what time it was at that point. My eyes were stuck open, listening to the goings on outside the door, listening with anticipation for someone to call me out of there.
I heard one officer ask another inmate what she was doing in there with a quarantine label on her door. She came from Cell Block “C” where she is still serving just over 30 more days. She chattered on about having Pink Eye and an apparent Staph infection somewhere on her that was exposed and not healing very quickly. She babbled on long enough to smooth over the guy for a phone call. Disgusted in that she got a call before I did, I turned over to keep myself from voicing my anger at this. I drifted off to sleep again.

Once again, a bright light comes on and the sound of the drop down door awakens me. Once again, I trolled over and attempted to get the tray to the gurney. Once again, I asked to use the phone. “Later…” he barked. My first thought was, ‘listen punk, if we were not in here there is no way you would get away with addressing me like that! No one addresses me like that, and you are no exception!’ Never mind the fact that I would never induce that reaction from anyone in the first dammed place. I looked over at the tray, and checked out the buffet. It was a sandwich, teeny milk, and a bag of Lay’s chips. Three bites into the sandwich, I thought for sure I would hit the jelly amongst the peanut butter any time now. Nope. It was all peanut butter! Remembering the girl in the holding cell having stashed her biscuit, I wrapped up the rest of the sandwich and stashed it in my tub. I would wait until another jelly pack came at me, and then I would have a real PB&J. I ate about half the chips, and looked at my feet. I have very long talons. My request for socks was still ignored, as well as my request for another blanket. That was all they had, I was told. My feet were kind of a light blue tint, and it was then that I realized that while I was looking at them, I could not really feel them anymore. Up to the gurney I went again.

I guess I drifted off, because when I awoke, I realized a new shift of people were there. I saw a couple of young girls on staff coming in and out, talking about how they had to study for their tests and such for classes. They were student CNA’s. I also noticed that they couldn’t seem to bring themselves to look into anyone’s cell. So, what the hell are they doing there I wondered. I mustered up the courage to request a phone all again, figuring I would be told no again. Low and behold, I was allowed out for a brief moment to use the phone. I desperately dialed my girl’s number, only to find out that all I would be getting is a one-minute, one time free allotments call. However, no one told me that if you were going to call a cell phone, then the person whose phone it was would have to set up an account for call time! That was bullshit! I got cut off from my girl after 30 seconds, and a recording came on telling me that the person on the other end was being given instruction on how to set it up, and to try my call again later. I was crushed, to say the least…and had to return to my cell. I was restless now, and kept wondering if I was going to be allowed another call at all! I refused to sit down. I just couldn’t now. All I heard out of my girl was that she still had no more news, and that she loved me, and to try to hang on. I waited for what I thought might have been about 20 minutes, and told the guy what had happened on the first call…and asked if I could try again to see if she had set up the phone account. He allowed it, and I raced my numb feet best I could back to the phone. I tried again and again, but continued to get that blasted recording that said an account had to be set up. I hung up the phone in defeat. I returned to my cell feeling lost and empty without getting to hear her voice again. I wondered if she really did get a message from the recording, or if she just hung up thinking we got cut off or something. The way things were going, I was betting on the latter of the two choices. I found out later that her recording specifically says it would be one hour before it activates. Why the hell couldn’t they extend the same courtesy to me for hell sakes, I would have known to wait…ya know? I also found out that the staff on my end knew about the one-hour waiting period also, and didn’t bother to tell me that I was trying to call back too soon. Back to the gurney I went.

Every wake cycle was tortuous. There was this little black bug that danced for my eyes in the upper corner of the room for a while. A background made up of big white cement blocks made it easy to see it, even in the dim shadows. Shit, no wonder it’s so cold in here. It’s all bricks, steel and glass. That’s probably why they blast those super bright lights above you in such a small space. Cheap bastards were probably using them to heat the place up. Still, I’m glad my light is off…makes me feel like I have a bit of privacy. I was getting bored to tears when I couldn’t sleep, so I’d get up every now and then to travel the two feet to the luxury porcelain sink just to get a drink of water, or brush my teeth. Much like suffocating…yeah, I heard that melody echoing in my attic a few times. Then I decided I would open my tub, and check out that tube of soap goop that I spotted in there earlier. Yeah, it says maximum security too. I’m not even going to tell you how that managed to make me aghast, and yet it gave me an evil sneer all at the same time. Not funny ha-ha funny, just kind of…funny. I gotta tell you, if I had to watch one more person walk up to that hand sanitizer dispenser on the wall out there, without having had contact with any of us or anything but the occasional phone or some kind of shit that couldn’t possibly have called for a squirt of that crap…I was just going to go fucking scream. It was little shit like that for example, that began to wear on me during the times when I could see of what was going on out there on the other side of the pie hole in my door. So before I ended up verbalizing it, I had decided it was time to ‘send the pain below’ for me too. It’s a good thing too, because I was to have a visitor soon. And by visitor, I do not mean friends or family. You see…I believe that within each one of us there are many aspects and dimensions of ourselves that are drawn forth by particular events. I call them “Ghosts”; because I am the only one who knows they’re there. I am the only one who can see them. Each one serves its purpose, and in this case…to see this particular visitor is not a good sign. This visitor has since inspired a small rant about believing, and it went something like this.

“I believe I have met my 14thGhost. I believe this Ghost shows itself only in the presence of human survival mode. I believe it came out to see darkness, and inquired as to why things were so very quiet, and so very...very cold. I believe in my 14thGhost, and I believe we got along fabulously. I believe I would like nothing more than to never have to evoke this Ghost ever again. I believe there is a part of me that now knows...that my 14thGhost is as friendly as madness gets in a time when it becomes most necessary to see things as askew as need be to remain visible to my own sanity.”

Yeah, it went just like that in fact. We sat together quietly there for a while, and then she reached over, placed her hand on my arm and said, “I understand…” She looked deep through me, nodded a little…then melded back into the recesses of my mind. Hopefully, she’ll hush the children for me a bit while she’s back there. They have managed to wreak havoc in such a short amount of time. I know this because the right side of my face seemed to be in a bit of pain, and I can detect this is not a good sign.
Dinner came, along with the rude awakening of that freaking light again; then again, with the explaining of the light and the glasses, then again with the suspicious look, then again with the light off for me. Always a victorious feeling, it’s the little things don’t you know. This evening, the chef would like to present a lump of gritty, dirty and quite nasty green leafy stuff, something white, runny and lumpy in texture, disguised as the main dish I am guessing, and some veggies and some fruit chunks. Oh, and a biscuit. I didn’t have a cup for some tea, how the hell was I supposed to know that I was supposed to save my freaking cup. I almost turned around to get that plastic one in my tub, but then decided I didn’t want to mess with the whole deal of maneuvering in here with the walker to get the cup, and then spill the whole damned thing trying to maneuver back to the gurney…just for a cup of iced tea that would keep me awake. Who the hell wants to stay awake in this place? So, no tea for me I guess. I ate the fruit and the veggies along with the biscuit. I had to eat the biscuit to get the taste of the white lumpy stuff and the gritty, dirty green stuff that I was stupid enough to take a bite of, out of my mouth! So now I need something to drink. I dropped my tray half-assed down onto the pie hole, they can have the rest…and made my way over to my tub. I cracked it open, and had to stumble back about a foot. In all my genius, it never occurred to me not to stash the peanut butter sandwich, which incidentally went stale anyway, into the same tub as the extra towel that I was so sneaky about keeping…that smelled like bug spray! What an idiot! Bug spray and peanut butter fumes, what the hell was I thinking! So I tossed the peanut butter sandwich onto the tray that was teetering off the edge of the pie hole, and quickly slammed the tub shut. That was one of those ‘note to self’ moments we all have, and although I seriously doubt I’ll have reason to utilize this exact lesson going forward in life…it wasn’t one I would soon forget. Back to the gurney I go, rolling my eyes at myself the entire way. Okay, so the entire two or three feet, but still.

That was a rough time for me. I can remember having some spasms, being very cold, and hurting so bad from all the angry children, that I managed to break a piece of tooth out of my mouth, bit a hole in my lower lip…and lose the gravity on the right side of my face. Great, this mean my eye is half way down my face. Dammit, I just knew it wasn’t going to be good. And yes, I did hear the melody of that song…and I think I knew who was playing it. Sending the pain…further down below. It did seem a daunting task with a horrendous theme right now, but I knew I would have to. I just had to. Where the hell did that bug go off to?

Another torturous sleep cycle finds me waking to the sounds of people. I could hear someone say “Oh man, that looks nasty…does it hurt?” Okay, that had my attention. I sat up a little, which wasn’t far to go seeing as how the gurney is stuck halfway up. By the way, I did try to work with it a couple times, but yeah…it was broke all right. I looked out the window, and apparently a girl that worked in the kitchen there got burned. They put her in the cell next to me. After a couple of people that she seemed to know came in to gawk at it, she had come outside the cell for something or other…and I got a look at her arm. It was nasty all right! All around the elbow area, there were different shades of awful and several degrees of burns. There was a big bubble near the back of it that resembled a giant maple tree sap sack or something, and at least one other bubble that looked more pinkish near the inside of the elbow area, then some of it looked kind of black. It occurs to me at that moment how stupid a question it was of that deputy to ask if it hurt. A few others had come in and out to see her…or just to see the burn…and asked the same question I wanted to. Why has she not been brought to the hospital yet? A woman deputy appeared; it was one of the ones from processing…and said that her Staff Sergeant on duty in the kitchen said at the time that it wasn’t that bad, so they sent her to medical. They gave her a 600mg Motrin. You have got to be kidding me!?! They didn’t even have it wrapped, there was no one rushing to get gel on it, no one rushing to get ice on it, hell there was no one rushing to do anything in here. Hey, that reminds me…where in the hell are my meds? What the hell time is it, for that matter, what the hell day is it? I got up and journeyed over to the door. I had to try talking through the pie hole, seems the buzzer on my wall wasn’t working. Go figure. I asked about my meds, and they had to ask my last name. What, they don’t know who is who in here? Without bothering to get up, he hollers over in the direction of my door that there was nothing for me yet. Thanks buddy…that must have exhausted you to no end. The idiot didn’t even bother to at least pretend to move an inch in either direction. Where are the nurses in this place anyways? I did see one or two older women pass in and out, one looked really reserved and wore glasses and I could tell by her tasks thus far that she was the RN and the other one was the LPN. My girl is a nurse, so I could kind of tell by experience through her and our conversations just how many of each the Counties would splurge to keep on staff during the week. There are no medical personnel on staff during the weekends. I guess inmates wait to get injured until they return on Monday. Anyway, not a one of them has even approached my cell thus far to even say ‘boo’. I heard one of the deputy guys tell one of the young girls; you remember them, the ones that were basically sucking up space in there…that I had MS, and I heard her kinda go “aawww”. I wanted to smack the crap out of her right then. For a host of reasons, but that one pretty much sealed it. I’m not a puppy; I am indeed a human being. Perhaps they lack certain humane features to recognize that fact. Besides, she thought MS meant I was a “Jerry’s Kid”…and she’s supposed to be a nurse one day?

I was staring at the ceiling at the little vents up there. They hadn’t been tended to in years, was my educated guess. I used to install the air supply and air return registers in large building structures in Silicon Valley many, many years ago. One thing I remember though is the maintenance required in order to maintain proper ventilation and a clean air supply. Looking at them, and knowing this…made me ponder about the girl with the Staph infection a couple of cells over. How the hell are they going to claim they are putting her in quarantine when everyone in this row of cells was sharing the same ventilation supply? She has an airborne infection, and I have a compromised immune system. Excellent…where are these people heads at? Think I’ll get up and brush my teeth or something, maybe even pee since the traffic seems to have slowed down in here. No one comes in that keypad door without having to walk right at my cell to turn and get to the counter. Yeah, much like suffocating. At least the light is off. Back to the gurney I go, apologizing to my feet before I wrapped them up again. This time, it took me a couple of tries. I couldn’t hold my tremors still. That pissed me off, inducing angry dreams that I will not go into. They were broken by the sounds of voices breaching the somewhat quiet air. It was a couple of prisoners that were on cleaning crew. They were laughing it up with the deputies that drew the short end of the straw, the ones that won a trip to sit on their ass and do nothing here in the medical ward. The big guy was named Burger, and the little guy was his quiet and mannered sidekick. They were inmates as well, but obviously made rank to be able to have this awesome cleaning job. The sound of the keypad told me they were finally leaving. I drifted right back to the same dream, that I still will not go into right now, and likely never will.

Interrupted was this dream, by the sudden bright light that shone painfully through the hole in my Swiss cheese blanket, and the pie hole seemed to be excruciatingly loud this time. Someone asked me through the door, how my burn was. I think I grumbled something through agony and gritted teeth about the burn girl being in the cell next to me …then the guy says “Well, what’s wrong with you then…?” and I swiftly replied “I’m the one with MS, that’s not supposed to be here in the first place.” Then I took a breath and asked that the light be turned back off. Of course, there always has to be one that wants to know why…then he proceeds to feed me some line of crap about having to check with his sergeant first. Little pussy, none of the others had to ask their daddy…just shut the damned thing off. So I said “Listen kid, they’ve been doing it for me the whole time I’ve been here so far…” then I used the fact that I still had my shades, lifted them and said “See, why else would I have been allowed to keep these on in here…?” He stared at me for the count of two; he was just a young military kind of guy and wanted to do right. He shut it off, we nodded at one another and he carried on about the delivery of our piss-porridge cold and the milk and biscuit. The jelly I stashed for later. Just in case they throw another one of those fucking peanut butter sandwiches at me. I asked him for a cup, so I would have one for tea later too. He quietly and robotically obliged. I consumed as much of the runny stuff as I could, but my heart just wasn’t into it. Neither was the empty space where that piece of tooth used to be. Back to the gurney I go.

Tick-tock, would someone please let me see a clock!

A flow of men in stripes was being shuffled through here for some kind of medical exams or something of that nature. A few of them stood at the counter and answered questions; a couple of them got their meds that were being administered by the RN with the glasses. I found out later, that some of these men were being given certain tests and such for their final processing before going to the State Prison, in Nashville I think it was. It seemed like three forever’s since breakfast, and I was really getting anxious about getting out of here now. I couldn’t see the clock. I stood at my window, and tried to move my head every which a way to see if I could spot a clock through the reflections of a couple of pictures on the wall behind the counter. Ridiculous, I thought to myself. This is torture; just sit down for a bit. Your meds should be here soon, and surely the nurse will be tending to you any time now. Maybe she could get me some socks. My feet are not looking so good right now. I’ll go drink some water at the deluxe porcelain sink for a while. That ought to pass some time. Maybe even rake my hair with that little comb, just for fun. If you’ve ever seen my hair, you’ll know just why that reference is funnier than at first mind’s glance.

It had to be getting close to morning court time. This building housed the jail, the courthouse, and I came to find out later that it’s also a Federal Holding Facility. Why then, was it so difficult to walk upstairs to where the records are, and see that my being here is a total mistake? Worse thing about it was, my house is less than a mile from me…and that is where I should have been, at home with my girl and our kitties. Less than a mile away…less than a mile…I believe I’ll cry now, a temporary loosening of the reins you might say. Yeah, much like suffocating…most definitely. After shifting painfully from one end of the gurney to the other, I looked over the edge and saw that there were a couple of cut up electrical wires carelessly dangling at least two to three feet down to the floor, ending with quite a few pretty heavy gauged wires just dancing out of the ends in all directions. How funny. They don’t want me to have my shades in here because of the metal frames, and here they are damned near handing me weapons to use on others or myself. Typical of everything this event has represented so far…a bumbling mess of irreprehensible incompetence. Certain details such as theses began to record in my mind like little videos; I guess I knew at some point that I would have to write about this ordeal. I had no idea it would be this long, or take this long…so to all who have been reading this so far, for all who have anticipated this story so far with kind patience…thank you. Should you ever experience writers block, I do not recommend throwing yourself into an experience such as this for…inspiration. Not a good idea to use it as a diet plan, or a new way to quit smoking either. This is where I laugh out loud at my own humor.
Go ahead and join me, because it doesn’t get any funnier than that.



End of Session Two

Please stay tuned, and yes…there is more to come.
I will post Session Three in a couple of days, until then...thanks for reading


BEFORE>>>

<They were taken only about a month apart.
The after pic, is the least horrifying to look at...so I chose that one for comparison purposes.