500th Day of Recovery

This was written on July 13th.

My first night in custody was spent lying on the floor in my boat/bed with 70 other inmates. I am not exactly sure how long I slept because it seemed I was waking up every hour on the hour. Additionally, the lights never dimmed where my boat/bed was positioned.

Breakfast is served promptly at 5:00 am everyday and today was no exception. Breakfast consisted of rice krispies, biscuit, orange, two hard-boiled eggs and 8 ounces of skimmed milk. For those of you who know my eating habits, and me know that eating while incarcerated for me appears to be a problem. I looked at the breakfast and thought how I could “eat to live.”

Thank goodness I have always been a person who eats to live as opposed to someone who “lives to eat”. I need food for health and vitality, not comfort so as I looked at the breakfast, I had some decisions to make. I haven’t had a glass of milk in 6 or 7 years and my dairy consumption has been minimal. However, as I looked at the nutritional information on the back of the milk carton, I noticed the protein content of the skim milk. This particular 8-ounce carton of milk contained 17 % of the recommended daily allowance for protein. I don’t eat meat and getting meat substitutes while incarcerated appears to be impossible so I made a decision to drink the milk at all three meals. By doing so, I would at least get 50% of the RDA of protein per day from the skim milk.

I poured some of the milk in the rice krispies and drank the remainder. I have been drinking soymilk for the past six or seven years and when I first started to drink the skim milk, I could feel a strange sensation in my stomach. I quickly overcame this sensation by eating more cereal followed by the OJ and then the biscuit. I knew the biscuit was full of fat but by judging how the food was last year, I knew this would be my only way to get some type of fat without completely ruining my stomach and going to the infirmary.

Breakfast is served on trays, with ready-made food, which are given out in the common area of the dayroom. There are individual tables which seat four and others eight, both upstairs and downstairs. It doesn’t appear that there is enough seating for 70 inmates but once everyone is seated there were still some empty seats.

As I received my tray and went to find a seat, I quickly scanned the room to figure out where I could and could not sit. I wrote about the “politics” of prison yesterday and stated that I was placed in Protective Custody (aka PC) where there appears to be little politics. However, I noticed something peculiar as I scanned the room. The whites were sitting in one area, the blacks in another, and the Mexicans/Hispanics in another.

As I sat down at the far end of the table, a Middle-Eastern man sat across from me. I guess he didn’t have a section designated for Middle Eastern inmates because he appeared to be the only one. As he sat down, I noticed a scowl on his face which didn’t diminish the entire time he ate breakfast. Also, as he sat down, I quickly offered him my hard-boiled eggs because I have fierce aversion to any and all eggs since the age of two. I cannot stand the smell or touch and certainly the taste of eggs; I instantly get nauseous.
As I gave the man my hard-boiled eggs, his scowl never changed even as he thanked me. I don’t know what this man is incarcerated for nor do I care to know because some things are better left a mystery and this goes for anyone else here. I just want to do my time and get back to my family as soon as possible.

I finished my breakfast within the allotted time – 15 minutes – and my stomach iddn’t feel so bad. Another inmate offered me his orange that I gladly accepted. I thought to myself if I could get five servings of fruit per day along with the skim milk, cereal, and breads, I should be okay. I was told the food gets better in state prison and quite frankly it really wouldn’t be much of a stretch.

After breakfast, we were confined to our bunks until the guard called “dayroom”. Dayroom is a period of time determined by the guards where the inmates can get up and move about the common area. This means we can watch television, take a shower, use the phone, play cards, chess and talk to other inmates. Until “dayroom” is called, we are confined to our bunks and can only get up to use the bathroom.

The three trustees are the only ones allowed up during non-dayroom hours. They are able to watch television and talk to one another. I was very fortunate because where my boat/bunk was situated, I was able to see and hear the TV. After breakfast I returned to my boat and the trustee who greeted me when I came in last night was reading the morning paper.

Yes, my case made the morning paper and this should do it as far as the publicity on my case. Most of you have probably read the articles by now, but if you haven’t here is a link to the Press enterprise http://www.pe.com/localnews/southwest/ .The trustee was reading the article from the Californian and at first he sarcastically asked for my autograph which I quickly laughed off. When he finished reading it, he told me I was a very lucky man to have so much support and it showed him my true character.

He gave me the article and after reading it, I was truly touched and amazed. Tears came to my eyes and I thought how blessed a person I am. I had 25 people – most who didn’t know me some 16 months ago – who came to court to show their support for my family and me. I am grateful for all of them and knowing that I have such incredible, loving friends will carry me through the next two years along with all the love and support from my family. There aren’t enough words in the English language to express my gratitude for this support. I thank everyone for all they have done and continue to do for my family and myself. I LOVE YOU ALL!!!

I finished the article and gave it back to the trustee. I had a very warm feeling inside knowing I have done and will continue to do the right thing in working my recovery from this horrible addiction. I settled into my “boat” and started to read the book that the trustee gave me entitled THE DESCENT. It’s about aliens who reside in the core of the earth. I think it’s based on a true story~only joking! The book is okay; not something I would read but I need something to pass the time. In this place, time appears to be the enemy because there aren’t many things to do. This is a detention facility which means it is designed to house inmates waiting for their trials, inmates headed to state prison, or inmates placed on probation. It is not designed for any rehabilitation~ so it is completely up to me as to how to use this time while I wait for my transfer to state prison.

It is amazing talking with four people who have been waiting 18 months and 2 years for their cases to be heard. I am not sure how they do it, in fact I have asked a few of them that same question and each one of them couldn’t give a definite answer. It is something they have to do because they have no choice in the matter.

I know that in my particular case I was very fortunate to have some incredible family members and friends bail me out or I would have been in this same place for the last 16 months. One of the inmates pointed out to me after we were discussing my case that I would have served all my time had I not been bailed out. Yes, this is true, however, I would not have met the fantastic people who have come into my life nor would I have realized what an incredible family I do have. Furthermore, my recovery would have been completely stymied had I stayed in this place and I would have been doomed to make those mistakes over and over again. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a compulsive gambler and I need all of the support of my Higher Power, family, friends, and the GA Program to help me arrest my addiction. Without these, I am a lonely desperate man but with these I am a very blessed man.

Now it was time for lunch at 11:00 am – lunch was again served on the same trays as breakfast (presumably they were washed) which consisted of salad (mostly lettuce) roll, some type of “goop” mixed together which I later learned was deviled ham, an orange and skim milk. I made the mistake of sitting one seat down from where I sat at breakfast so I didn’t have to see the scowl on the Middle Eastern man’s face, but I was quickly informed (politely) that the seat was taken. So I quickly apologized and moved to the seat I occupied for breakfast.

Before doing this, I traded my goop (deviled ham) for an orange. I put the salad on the roll and ate my lettuce sandwich along with the two oranges and skim milk. At least I know I am getting some protein in the milk and some vitamin C in the oranges. My stomach maybe shrinking – if that’s possible – but I still feel fine and the fact that there is no physical activity means I don’t need more calories.

The no-physical activity part depresses me the most. I have been physically active for all of my adult life and remembering back to the six days I spent here last year, I knew any physical activity would be basically non-existent. However, today being Thursday, our area is entitled to one hour of rec yard. Rec yard is once a week where the inmates get to go outside. The rec yard consists of a basketball hoop, a pull up bar, sit-up incline and a leg extension. It is surrounded by four cinderblock walls 20 feet high, and the top is enclosed with a mesh netting which allows the sun to shine through.

As we were informed of the rec time, we were told that we could only go outside in our boxer shorts because the temperature had been over 100 degrees. As we took off our orange pants and shirts, we formed a single line and proceeded the 20 or so feet to the rec yard. The yard is about 40 feet wide and 40 feet deep – a perfect square. Even though there was a basketball hoop, there was no basketball, so shooting some hoops was out of the question. Also, there were 70 inmates in this area so having a basketball game would only cause problems.

I stood outside, mostly keeping to myself trying to soak up the sunshine as much as possible. I knew this would be the last time I got to see the sun for the week or so. I wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. After about five minutes, I started seeing other exercising and I knew I needed to do something. I did 50 push-ups, got up, walked around in a circle for 5 minutes, dropped and did 50 more pushups. Yes, it was very warm but the physical activity combined with the sunshine was the boost I needed. This certainly wasn’t my typical workout but anything felt good.

Working out at the detention center is prohibited except for rec yard time which means we get only one hour of exercise per week. I know this is a detention center and I have been told that state prison is much better because we can go outside everyday (weather permitting) but one hour a week for someone who has been here for almost two years (yes, there are many) seems cruel. I’m not saying make it a day spa, rather three hours a week seems sufficient. I am just glad my stay here is temporary because it is a very depressing place.

With any luck, I will be transferred to my next stop which is Delano Correction Processing facility next week. I was told processing of my paperwork could take up to 2 weeks so I am fully expecting to be here next week, but I am hoping I will be transferred the following week. I hope I don’t get lost in the shuffle and stay here longer than necessary. Oh, well that is one of the many things out of my control so when it happens, it will happen.

When I do get transferred to the Delano facility in San Bernardino County (I think), I will stay there for at least 30 days but no more than 90 where I will be put through a battery of tests, both physical and mental.

These tests will determine where I go from there. The inmates are rated on a number scale, and the lower the number the lower type of security of the prison. I am hoping for a fire camp which is a minimum security facility that helps fight forest and brush fires. We are trained to fight fires and are outside for 12 hours per day. I understand it is physically challenging and I look forward (hopefully) to learning a new skill. Besides that, my dad was a firefighter and I know a long time ago, he wanted me to take the fireman’s entrance exam so, I guess, it is never too late.

After rec yard, we were given the time to take showers. There are only four individual showers and 70 inmates. I knew it was going to take a long time. I am a patient person and waited patiently for my turn. It was my turn, and situations like these made me realize how much I took my freedom for granted. In my normal life, taking a shower was no big deal. I would take a shower at the gym or at home. I had my shampoo, liquid soap, washcloth, shaving cream and razor. Now I didn’t have any shampoo because we have to order it. Supplies come on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I missed the cutoff because I was sentenced on Wednesday.

I was able to borrow shampoo from a fellow inmate and really everyone from the inmates to the guards have been very respectful. I borrowed the shampoo and took my bar of soap, washcloth, and towel. I took a shower, which for the most part was hot enough, but we as inmates have no control over the hot and cold. We just push a button and the water comes out. It was an individual stall and there was a sense of privacy, but of course I couldn’t get comfortable.

While in the shower, I thought I should shave, as well, because I couldn’t think of anywhere else to shave. There were sinks near the toilets, but those sinks were for washing hands. Also, there are no mirrors anywhere. I guess this has to be a safety issue. Anyone could break a mirror and use it as a lethal weapon. So shaving was a blind experience. Good thing I was given a fairly dull, single edge, disposable razor because I wouldn’t do too much damage to my face and I didn’t. I’m not sure how much hair I shaved from my face, but I did feel somewhat clean after I finished showering.

I toweled off, slipped the sweaty boxers back on. By the way, we get a clean pair of boxers twice a week – once on Wednesday and again on Saturday. So much for having a clean pair of underwear everyday as every mom implores! After slipping on the dirty boxers – on went the orange bottoms and orange tops. Incidentally, we get a new set of these every Saturday – so much for cleanliness

One important aspect of an after shower routine, is the practice of using underarm deodorant. Unfortunately, this is another item that must be purchased so I didn’t have any to use. The deodorant is a stick so I was not going to ask anyone to borrow theirs!
This place smells bad enough and even though I was clean after showering, I knew I would soon start to smell without any deodorant and boy was I ripe!

I am writing this in retrospect and it has been 11 days since I have used any deodorant and let me tell you I STINK! I cannot believe how badly a person could smell even after showering everyday. I don’t know how people did it before deodorant was invented. I guess it was acceptable to smell. I do look forward to my next stop so I can order some deodorant and stop this awful smell.

Now it was 4:00 pm and time for dinner which was served on those same brown and beige trays with the 5 compartments. The dinner consisted of a roll, peas and carrots, some type of meat patty, salad – mostly lettuce – white cake and an 8-ounce carton of milk. I happily took my unofficial assigned seat across from the mean-expression Middle Eastern man. I quickly gave everything away except for the salad, roll, and milk. Yes, I gave away the peas and carrots because they were saturated in either butter or margarine. I made another lettuce sandwich and drank my milk. While I ate, I looked at no one and tried my best to keep eye contact at he bear minimum with my friend from “The Middle East”.

Our 15 minutes for dinner was up and I headed back to my “boat” where I continued to read my novel. After about 2 hours we were allowed to walk around before commissary was brought in. Commissary is the process of buying certain types of foods such as potato chips, ramen noodle soups, brownies, and many other sugar and salt foods. Commissary is where we can order sundries such as deodorant, soap, toothpaste, shaving cream, etc. The Commissary items are delivered each Tuesday and Thursday. If one were to place an order on Tuesday, it would be delivered on Thursday and vice versa.

I didn’t know if I would still be here on Tuesday, so I didn’t want to waste any money on my account. I would like to order some shampoo and deodorant but I thought that a few days without these items wouldn’t be so bad and in fact I have been able to borrow anything except for the deodorant. Maybe I should have ordered something, but I don’t want to waste any money. Tonight I didn’t place any orders because a few of the inmates I spoke with thought I would be transferred next week.

The Commissary came and many of the inmates had large bags full of Ramen Soups, brownies, and other sugar items. Then there appears to be some type of trading going on between the inmates. The soups seem to be the most coveted food items. There is no currency used inside the center, so I guess bartering the commissary items is the way to go. It appeared that many of the fellow inmates made sure other inmates who didn’t purchase from the Commissary had something. It was remarkable to see many of these inmates who are facing some very serious time such as 25 years to life – share their items with each other! It certainly was a fascinating display of human nature.

After commissary was administered, we were able to roam about till 11:00 pm. At this time we were summoned to our bunks. I didn’t have far to go and settled into my “boat” for the evening. Around midnight is roll call to make sure everyone is accounted for. The guard butchered my last name but that is to be expected.

I finally settled into my bunk and to myself that this is the 500th day in recovery. The only reason I knew this was because I wanted to see how many days I had on my sentencing day which was 499. Yes, it certainly is a hell of a way to “celebrate” 500 days, but it beats the alternative of the insanity of my previous life. I never thought I would end up in a place like this in a million years but I have and I must deal with it the best way I can which is with my head held high embracing each and every day one day at a time.