It Is What It Is

As I woke up this morning again with the sunlight coming through the little window in my cell and as I gazed across the dayroom at the “WARNING, NO WARNING SHOTS” sign, I thought everything is going to be okay. I did my 500 push-ups and sit-ups before breakfast and read a little more of “Side by Side”. I went down for breakfast and was feeling very good. After breakfast I read a little more than it was time to go outside in the “yard”.

The “yard” is a field surrounded by a walking/running track. “Yard” time provides us inmates with some much needed outdoor recreation. The temperature in this part of California is consistently in the middle to upper 90’s, so running is discouraged. However, I was looking forward to actually walk around outside for the hour and a half. Unfortunately, I was not eligible for “yard” time because my identification card had not been prepared. All inmates must present an identification card to enter the “yard”, no exception. I was confined to my cell but this was okay because I was in a good mood and I could see some consistency coming back into my days. I settled down to read more of the book then suddenly my cell door opened. The voice echoed over the loudspeaker; “Del Vacchio pack up your things you are being transferred to C-Yard.” Here we go again! Here come the worry right when I thought everything was going to be okay, the uncertainty pops back in.

I gathered up my belongings, placed them in my pillow case, said goodbye and good luck to my cellmate and I was on my way. The Correction Officer gave me my identification card along with an individual photo of myself as I left the B-Yard. I passed the inmates from my cell block who were in the yard and I assured the fellow inmate who I borrowed the book “Side by Side” (I only had a few more pages to go, yet another unfinished novel, oh well) that I left in my cell with my cellmate. I walked past the 30 foot high guard tower and met up with another Correction Officer who gave me directions to my new housing assignment.

As soon as I entered the C-Yard I noticed a difference from where I had just came. The building was of the same concrete and metal design but appears much smaller. Instead of a 60 foot square the building is probably a 45 foot square. Prior to walking into the building I overheard an inmate who was heading to the same C-Yard ask another inmate if he knew anything about C-Yard and his reply “yes, there are no cells just bunks.” When I heard this I became anxious. I am not sure why I became anxious because by now I would hope to be used to all of the movement and uncertainty. I still have to work on letting it go before I become a complete basket case. Yes, again these things are completely out of my control and I need to roll with it. I walked into the smaller building at C-Yard and immediately noticed all the bunks lined up two rows deep on the bottom and top levels. I researched the California Prison Systems fairly well prior to my arrival and I knew the prison system was over crowded, in fact the system is built for 100,000 inmates and currently there are approximately 170,000 inmates. As I looked around at 144 beds I realized how crowded the system really is.
Up until this time I noticed at least 100 inmates were processed on Friday when I came in and I noticed that some of the holding cells had 15-20 inmates which should normally hold 5 inmates. As soon as I walked into this building it was immediately clear to me how overcrowded the prison system has become.

Of course over the past day, I tried to mark the pluses and minuses between the two buildings. In the previous building we were confined to our cells just about all day, here we are able to walk around just about all day. In the previous building there was privacy in the cells and here there’s absolutely no privacy. In the previous building we were allowed to take showers every other day, here we can take showers everyday. In the previous building there appeared to be no politics (racism) and here there appears to be some, not very much but some. I was given the do’s and don’ts tour and I take these directions very seriously. These directions are essential to my survival and for me to “stay safe”.

It will be yet another adjustment period and I am sure once I get fully adjusted to this new building, I will be moved once again. The one constant in this journey has been inconsistency. I know I have to adjust to whatever situation I am encountered with and there have been a few of them over these past few days. That great saying “it is what it is” takes precedence. I created this mess and I have to continue to make the very best of the situation. I am certainly trying my best.

This new building is a very similar set-up to the first area I was placed in at the County Jail. I was placed there when I first arrived and thankfully I am not on a “boat” in this new building. Additionally, here in the State Prison there is a guard dedicated to this room not like in the County where the guard had to watch over four rooms which lead to things being missed. This is not to say things won’t get missed here but the Correction Officer’s presence is very welcome in my book.

A few tidbits about my new residency; the other inmates near my bunk seem very cool they even played a joke on me as I unpacked my belongings. They told me my bunkmate was gay. I told them that was okay as long as we all mind our own business. After looking at my bunkmate, I really couldn’t believe he was gay (I won’t go into it right now). After about an hour one of the other guys told me he was not gay (not that there would be anything wrong with it) they just wanted to see my reaction. I guess I passed the test! The fellow inmates I sat next to at dinner were ecstatic to hear I was a vegetarian. They told me to keep this our little secret. They were happy to trade their vegetables and salad for my hamburger patty. All in all this new residence appears to have more personality than the previous one. This is certainly a good thing because instead of having to talk with only one inmate as was the case in the previous building, I can talk with 143 inmates if I choose.

As I mentioned before; I had somewhat of an idea of what to expect when I got to State Prison but all those expectations have been obliterated. What I thought I knew I didn’t know. Also, it seems anytime I thought something would happen it either didn’t or I was completely wrong about the situation. I don’t know if it is possible, but I must expect the unexpected.

Shots?

Again, the natural light woke me up and it was not yet breakfast time. I decided I needed to do some exercises because it had been four days since I did some push-ups and sit-ups. I got myself out of the bunk and proceeded to do 500 push-ups and sit-ups. The lethargy of just sitting around for the past few days added up quickly. I struggled through these exercises because of the inactivity of the past few days. It will be interesting to see how much I have fallen out of shape when I am able to actually do some running again.

Hopefully, I will be here no more than 3 months but as I know there are things beyond my control. Also, as it turns out there have been some inmates who have been here five or six months. By the same token there are inmates who have been here a month and a half and are being sent on to the next step. The noticeable difference between here and the County Jail is here we don’t seem to be allowed out of the cell very often. In fact, yesterday we were let out for dayroom but after four minutes we were told to “get done”. Apparently when there is a fight or if someone tries to escape the Corrections Officers instruct the inmates to get down on their stomachs on the floor. As we were down on the ground I would have sworn I heard shots outside. After two minutes of lying on the floor we were instructed to get back to our cells where we stayed the entire day until dinner.

Today we were again allowed out for dayroom this morning and we were able to stay out without any warnings. However, dayroom only lasted 30 minutes and each inmate must remain seated either watching television or playing games at the table. I opted to watch television because I am not interested in the games such as cards, dominoes, checkers or chess. There is no movement of any kind only until the dayroom is over. We are not allowed to take showers at this time either. Showers are controlled by the Officers at a later time in the day and each tier alternates days for showers. Yes, this means I do not get to take a shower every day only every other day. Later on in the afternoon our tier had their turn to take showers. There are two sets of showers one on the top level and one on the bottom level. Yes, it is a group shower and each shower has three shower heads. The Correction Officer lets three cells out at a time and it is very controlled. It was nice to take a shower because the last shower I took was on Thursday and I didn’t smell very good. There are no combs and there are no razors for shaving. I am hoping I can get a comb through the “store” when I get my number and I am done with diagnostics. Razors are controlled by the Officers and today the Officer did not have any. The procedure is to present your identification card (which I am waiting to receive) to the Officer in exchange for the razor. The inmate must bring the razor back and they will receive their identification card back, but today there weren’t any razors available. Another item I noticed is the security is much better here because at every meal and during dayroom there is an Officer present in the room in addition to one in the watch tower. I do feel safer here than in the County Jail but I still cannot let my guard down for one minute because this is still prison.

Dinner came and it was much better that yesterday. Dinner is served much later and because there is no clock I am assuming it is served around 6:30pm which makes the night much shorter. I was able to borrow another book; “Side by Side” by John Ramsey Miller from another inmate. Also, there is a library program and once I get my identification card I will be able to borrow books from the library. Yes, there is still a great deal of down time but hopefully I can fill up this down time with some positive substance.

New Surroundings

I woke up in my new surroundings which are sort of like the old surroundings with the big exception of having a window which allows real sunlight to come through. The cell is essentially the same size as he County Jail; 6 feet wide by 10 feet long. I was very surprised to see the sun had risen before we were served breakfast. I am not sure what time breakfast was served because there are no clocks anywhere. There is only a thermometer on the wall not a clock. I am not sure if this is good or bad because time has meaning in a place like this. In fact my sentence is one of time but it is not time of day rather just time. Each day is another day closer to being back with my family and now that I can actually see the sun come up and go down I know when the day has ended and when a new one has begun.

In the County Jail, breakfast, lunch and dinner were orchestrated at essentially the same time each day. I don’t know what time breakfast was served and as soon as breakfast is served, a sack lunch is placed in front of every cell. This means lunch is at our discretion. Breakfast and dinner must be served hot according to the CDC regulations while lunch is not. Based on the three meals that were served today, the food is certainly better than the County Jail and from what I understand it gets better at the next stop.

Breakfast consisted of a hot cereal (farina), banana, two slices of wheat bread, eggs (scrambled), and potatoes with cheese. I traded my eggs and potatoes for some cereal and a banana so I had plenty. Lunch consisted of four pieces of wheat bread, tuna (no mayo), slice of American cheese, apple and a honey graham cracker. I was happy to see the tuna without mayo so this was a good lunch for me. Dinner was a little suspect (for me at least) hot dogs, pork and beans, vanilla cake, and spinach. I ate the hot dog rolls and the spinach. I gave away everything else. I was okay because I still had the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches back in the cell. Also another positive is they do not serve milk with every meal only at breakfast. In the lunch bag and with dinner are packets of range flavored sugar-free mixes. These mixes are good and they contain 100% of the recommended daily allowance of Vitamin C. I was very impressed to see these mixes and they were a welcome diversion for the milk at every meal.

After dinner I went back to the cell and made the peanut butter and jelly (without the jelly) sandwiches for my dinner. It doesn’t appear I will starve here. After eating this I asked my cellmate if he knew where I could get a book and he told me he had one. The book was “Bleachers” by John Grisham. I don’t know if I should count this as my 15th book “Pillars of the Earth” by Ken Follett. I had to leave this book behind at the County Jail. Hopefully, someday I will be able to finish it. Tonight I read the entire John Grisham novel “Bleachers” and it was a very pleasant way to spend the evening.

Nervous Breakdown (Part Two)

August 11, 2006

A little past 2:00am I peeked out the holding cell door and watched the Officer go through each inmate’s box where the personal things were stored. I thought we were only allowed to bring certain items to State Prison and the rest of our personal items would be shipped home. Somehow I misunderstood this because only the clothes I wore to court on the day of sentencing will be shipped home, not the personal letters and pictures accumulated by me over the past month. I watched with horror as the Officer put certain items in the paper bag which would go with the inmate to State Prison and throw the other items in a dumpster. I couldn’t see my box so I couldn’t tell what was going with me and what was trash. All I kept thinking about was the 24 page entry I had written this afternoon for this blog being dumped into the trash. A few more deep breaths and a far more serenity prayers and I was okay.

Now it was time for the Officers to shackle and chain us together before being put on the bus. There is a chain which went around my waist. I was handcuffed with my left hand to the chain, (so scratching my nose was a little difficult) my right hand to another inmate’s chain. My feet were shackled together with an iron chain. Walking with this chain wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be but walking attached to another inmate was difficult. Fortunately we didn’t have far to walk. It was only a few hundred yards to the bus.

As I have mentioned before I was placed in Protective Custody which means we are the last one’s on the bus and we have special seats in the front of the bus. These special seats are also in cages so none of the other inmates could harass us. We departed downtown Riverside at around 4:00am for central California. At this point in time I was exhausted and tried to sleep but for whatever reason had a very difficult time getting to sleep. Maybe I got caught in the moment of the sunrise too long or maybe our family journey across country a month ago has strengthened my tolerance for long rides, but we were entering the State Prison before I knew it. We entered the Kern prison at a little before 7:30am. As we entered the correctional officers at the prison inspected the bus both inside and outside. I noticed a little tension between the Officers on the bus who were with the County Sheriff’s Department and the State Correctional Officers. There weren’t many words said between these two parties but we were admitted into the prison.

We arrived at the Central Processing building and the inmates who were in front of the bus (which was me) were let off first. I was immediately greeted by a Corrections Officer who asked me my named and then he asked me why I was put into protective custody. I gave him my name and explained the reason as to why I was put into PC and ten he asked me if I wanted to stay in Protective Custody. I knew this question was coming and I have received a lot of advice on this subject from other inmates. Some of the inmates said I should definitely get out of PC and go on to what is called the “Main Line”. Others told me the exact opposite that I should stay in PC. Now it was my turn to make a decision. My main emphasis is to try and get into a “Fire Camp” which I understand is very hard work. I need hard work and I heard that if I stayed in PC, I wasn’t eligible for a Fire Camp.
I told the Corrections Officer I would like to go to Main Line, he seemed to agree. He then told me they would hide me out overnight and stick me somewhere tomorrow so no one would be suspicious. I was immediately told to use a different entrance than the other PC inmates. As soon as I entered the door I was told to strip naked. I shed the county issued sandals, orange shirt and pants, I was again subjected to a strip search but this time instead of being in a room with one officer and one other inmate, I was in full view of about 12 Correction Officers both male and female and about 20 inmates. After the strip search I was told to walk through the metal detector naked where I was given a pair of boxer shorts. After I received the box shorts, I was quickly escorted to a six feet long, four feet wide holding cell which was located out of the way from all the other inmates. Yes, this would be my 6th holding cell in a little over 48 hours. Yes, the whole process has been debilitating, demeaning, and degrading but I am in the custody of the State of California and this is how an inmate is treated. Right or wrong is certainly not for me to decide because I lost my rights when I broke the law.

Now it was a little before 8:30am and here I am in yet another holding cell for who knows how long. I had my mind made up it was going to be at least another 24 hours. This set-up was different than the other holding cells I had been in because there was no toilet or sink. There was just a bench at the far end of the cell. The bench stretched from one wall to the other wall; four feet. Also, the way the processing office was set-up allowed actual sunlight into the office and I was aware of an outside world. Little things like sunlight mean a great deal at these points in time and I was very grateful.

I figured I better get comfortable because it maybe a while before I am released from the holding cell. A few other Correction Officers came by and asked me a few questions. One came by with my personal belongings from the county jail and I was excited to see my letter to the blog was still there along with all the letters and pictures I have received while I was in County Jail. Yet another Corrections Officer came over and took me for fingerprints. The fingerprints were an identical set-up to the fingerprints I had given at the County Jail. While the Officer was taking my fingerprints she asked me why I was separated from the rest of the inmates and I told her my story yet again. A few more Officers came up to me after I was fingerprinted and while in my holding cell asked me more questions. At this point I was getting very confused because all the questions appeared to be essentially the same and I wasn’t sure if I was staying in PC or going to the Main Line. Then an Officer came up and told me he was going to put me in the medical dorm where there are “no politics” and “I would make it.” I said thank you and he went on his way. Finally, yet another Officer cam up with my charges sheet and he asked me how much was the total dollar amount and I told him. Then he asked me if I got to keep the money to which I told him no and not only do I have to serve a four year sentence, I still owe the money when I get out. Then the Officer said to me, “how come some people get to keep the money while they serve the time and I have to serve time and still pay the money back?” I replied, “I don’t really know, maybe they had a better attorney.” He laughed and finished up with his questions. A few more hours went by and I was given two sack lunches which contained two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an apple, almond cookies and Lay’s potato chips. I ate the sandwich but it really is difficult to eat peanut butter without drinking anything. Maybe this is also part of the punishment?

I couldn’t eat the other lunch bag so I figured I would save it for later. I finally settled down on the floor (it wasn’t as dirty as the County Jail) and drifted off to sleep. I thought I heard my name called and I tried to yell out but a minute went by and I heard it again. The Officer finally found me and told me I was being sent to a dorm. I believe it was the same dorm (medical dorm) I was told about by a different Officer. I tried to gain my composure and gathered my belongings. I raced to where the Officer was and grabbed a pillow case which was stuffed with sheets, towels, shirts, undershirts, boxers, and socks. I was told my housing assignment which is B-3 and needed to make a right at the guard tower. Yes, a thirty foot high guard tower manned with guards with real guns.

I was greeted by an Officer who gave me my cell number 218. The dorm is a concrete building with a metal roof. It has two tiers and can house up to 84 inmates. I quickly went up the stairs and found my cell and new cellmate. By now it was after 9:30pm and dark. I entered the cell and my cellmate immediately noticed I still had on my blue band. The blue band denotes PC and this is a huge “NO NO” on the mail line. My cellmate quickly asked me my charges and much to his relief they were embezzlement charges and had nothing to do with children. My cellmate also went on to tell me to get rid of that band because “I could be KILLED for wearing it.” Apparently anyone associated with “PC” is either a child molester or police snitch and neither one is looked upon highly in the main line. In fact, according to my cellmate, people have been either beaten up or killed for it.

As soon as I heard this I quickly took off my band and stuffed it with some other garbage and my heart was racing yet again. Here I am minding my own business trying to follow the rules and regulations only to find out I could be killed for wearing a stupid band. I don’t know if anyone saw me wearing the band as I made my way to the cell so I have to be extra careful in the days ahead. With my heart racing, I unpacked all my belongings and made my bunk. The sheets are blue and are of a much better quality than the County. There are also two extra boxers so I can change these more than twice a week with another change of clothes (pants and tops). At least the clothing has been upgraded.

I finally settled down after the scare and laid down. I started to speak with my cellmate who was still very concerned with my blue band and I tried to put it out of my mind. We talked further about why we were both here and he is serving a 16 month sentence for drug possession. This is his second time to State Prison, the last time being 6 years ago for a similar charge. As we talked further, I told him I was married and had two children. Now the events of the past few days or maybe it was the events of the past 17 ½ month, but as soon as I mentioned my wife tears started to well-up in my eyes and I had to stop talking for fear of completely breaking down. My cellmate understood and after a few minutes I regained my composure but not before blowing my nose and wiping my eyes a few times.

There are so many emotions which are still bottled up inside me and unfortunately I am not in a place where I can let these emotions go and hopefully someday not in the too distant future I will be able to let them go and NOT bottle them up. For now, I have to bottle them up because I must be strong and put on a brave front. But truth be told ever since Wednesday night when I was first transferred to all the holding cells to the possible uncertainties, my emotions were pretty much spent. A few of these emotions came out tonight which was definitely a good thing. I did feel much better but I do know I have a long way to go.

Nervous Breakdown?

August 10, 2006

Somewhere around 1:00 am the opening and closing of the drunk tank seemed to subside to a reasonable level and I fell asleep. I don’t know how long I fell asleep for but when I woke up my butt, leg, back and arms had terrible pains. It still wasn’t time for breakfast (5:00am) so I decided to walk off the pains and I tried to go back to sleep. I didn’t have much success so I laid there and thought about good people and good places. Breakfast came in a few hours and I am not sure if I was hungry or not, but eating was something to do and it was a welcomed diversion from the nothingness. By making it to breakfast I knew I had another 23 hours to go. In my recovery, one day at a time is very essential but in the holding cell with nothing to do one second at a time is essential to survive. Any person who has been held in captivity for any period of time I respect tremendously. Also, I would like to know if these prisoners suffered from post traumatic stress disorder. In my little brain these conditions I have faced seem very stressful and I cannot imagine what these prisoners of war go through.

After breakfast, I tried to sleep. I was awakened with the opening of the holding cell door. In walked three inmates from Southwest Riverside County Detention Center where I came from yesterday. I immediately recognized all three because they were from the same dayroom. I greeted each one with a handshake and asked them if they were on their way to State Prison and if they filled out their paperwork. Each one responded with a yes, and I asked them when they were sentenced. Each one said, two weeks ago. Now my stomach was doing flips and I knew something was wrong. I had to talk to an Officer and find out if I were being sent to State Prison because as of right now I have not filled out any type of paperwork. Finally an Officer came to the door. I asked him if I was being sent to State Prison and he said “NO”, I am being housed. I didn’t lose my composure I proceeded to ask him how is that I was sentenced one month ago and all these other people were sentenced two weeks and they are going to State Prison and I am being transferred to another County Jail. He gave a very dismissive shrug of the shoulders as to say how would I know, and really don’t care. I really wanted to breakdown and cry at this point because it has been one delay after another with my case, with my sentencing and now with my transfer. I cannot take much more of this or I am going to have a nervous breakdown. I did all I could do not to breakdown and I asked the Officer one more question. I asked him if there is anyone I can talk to, to find out when I will be transferred and if I am not being transferred why I was sent to Riverside in the first place. Again, he just shrugged his shoulders.

At this point, I am exasperated beyond belief. I stood in the holding cell muttering to myself. I know these things are out of my control and I have to give it up. I need help to get some answers before I completely lose it. I knew I had to call someone and ask for help. After muttering a few minutes another Officer opened the cell door and told us we were being housed. The Officer led us to our property boxes which now had two sheets, blanket and towel. Also, please remember I left all my toiletries including my cup in my cell with my cellmate because I thought I was going to State Prison.
This particular facility is a little older than the previous facility and it shows. I had heard about this facility from my cellmate because one of the rumors we heard that before getting transferred to State Prison we maybe spending a few night in the “Old Jail”. Yes, I heard about this jail before and wow I am here. Hopefully I am only here for a brief stay because I though and I left Southwest Riverside County Detention Center it would get better. Unfortunately, there appears to be one more stop on the road. Yes, the subject of temporary keeps popping into my mind. I hope I can draw from whatever inner strength I may have and be strong. If I don’t well I won’t think of that because there are three important reasons for me to keep marching forward and they are Monica, Lauren, and Jonathan. I have to remember it was me and me only who caused all these problems. I am trying the best I can to live with this and I have to keep in mind there are so many things out of my control. I just hope and pray that those things out of my control which are in other people’s hands are performed in a timely manner. The system is what it is and I know I have people who care deeply about me to ensure the system works properly.

I made a telephone call to my wife and unfortunately I could not reach her because she was in a bad cell area. Also, this would prove to be the last time I would get to talk with her and I really don’t know when the next time I will speak with her. It could be mid-November. I did, however; telephone my mother because I needed to speak to someone who could possibly help. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind due to my pending limbo and this would also prove to be the last time I speak with my mother for quite some time. I don’t know if my telephone call to my mother had anything to do with me finally being transferred to State Prison, but I will thank her and anyone else who may have assisted in the transfer. Even if no one had anything to do with it I need to thank my mom for listening to me rant and rave. I was at wits end and I am sure my mother felt bad as well. Thanks for listening it certainly helped me tremendously.

A little past 8:00pm right after I convinced myself I would be in this awful place for the next three days (at the very least) an Officer came to the front of the cage (cell) and called out my name. He told me to “roll up my shit because I was being transferred to State Prison.” I didn’t realize how relieved I could be by being sent to State Prison but I was so relieved I actually smiled. This is an absurd thought but I have been so ready for this transfer because it means one more step will be complete and it means I am that much closer to being back with my family. Prior to leaving the cage the Officer told me to take off all my whites, which meant I had to take off my socks, boxers and undershirt. These items are prohibited in the transfer of inmates to State Prison. This meant I was wearing sandals, orange pants and an orange top. When the other inmate and I arrived downstairs, were told to strip off our clothes and the guard gave us a full body cavity search. If something like this does not humiliate me nothing will. It certainly was very humiliating and demeaning but it is part of the process. I must remember I am a convicted felon. Because I broke the law it means I am subjected to these dehumanizing events. After we were strip searched we were lead to another holding cell (my 5th one in 48 hours) where I saw the three inmates I left this morning some 12 hours ago. These were the same inmates who were transferred this morning and when I last saw them I thought I wasn’t going to be transferred.
Apparently and I don’t know if this is true, but this is something I have surmised speaking with these other inmates. When I was transferred yesterday morning, I spent 26 hours in a holding cell which means I needed to be transferred to a regular cell. The maximum time an inmate can stay in a holding cell is 24 hours, so I had to be transferred to the cage no matter the fact that I would be sent to State Prison late in the day. All the Officer had to do was communicate these facts to me when I asked him earlier this morning if I were being sent to State Prison. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders and added to my anxiety which spilled over to my telephone calls to my mother. Communication is essential and all of my angst could have been tempered by a few sentences, oh well, there is nothing I can do about this now. Thank you God for granting me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The bus supposedly departs at 3:00am and now it was almost 9:00pm which means we had another six hours to kill. Six hours is nothing and I was just happy to get on with the process.

Grueling Long Day

August 9, 2006
(These are now posted in chronological order as they were written by Paul)

I finished my 14th book “Thief of Time” by John Holliman which was an interesting read about Native American culture mixed in with a murder mystery. After finishing this I started an epic 967 page tale by Ken Follett,” Pillars of the Earth”. This is most likely the longest book I have ever attempted. It is a 12th century version of “Six Degrees of Separation”. Each character in this epic tale has a connection one way or another with all the characters. It is well written and although I am not a visual person I can see and feel each of these characters.

I was having difficulty in sleeping maybe because the book was SO good and I wanted to read more. I got about halfway through the novel and decided to call it a night at 2:00am. Forty-five minutes later the call came over the intercom “Del Vacchio get your stuff together, you are getting out of here.” Could this possibly be the call I have been waiting for over the past four weeks. I quickly gathered up my mattress pad, sheets, blanket and property box. I knew I am not allowed to bring certain items with me to State Prison. I left all my food (mostly peanuts and rice) and toiletries with my cellmate. I gathered up all the letters and pictures that I have received and placed them in my storage box because the jail will ship this box to my wife. I didn’t want to ship the toiletries and food because they would be best served with my cellmate. I threw out my soap, comb, toothpaste and shampoo because I cannot take these to State Prison. I said my goodbyes to my cellmate but not before getting his home address. I will drop him a letter in a year when he gets out to see how he is doing. I was invigorated to finally leave this place and it did not matter I only had 45 minutes worth of sleep and quickly joined the line with the other inmates who were being transferred. I was excited but I found it odd that no one else was being transferred to State Prison and I hadn’t signed my paperwork but I didn’t give it too much thought because I was so happy to leave.

I went into a holding cell with 7 other inmates. As I glanced at the gentleman in front of me I noticed he had a tattoo on the nape of his neck. I looked closer at the tattoo and instantly recognized the name; LAUREN – my daughter’s name. As soon as I recognized the name my heart grew warmer. A few minutes later I glanced over to my left to another gentlemen who had a tattoo on is left forearm and I instantly recognized the name; JONATHAN – my son’s name, which by the way means gift from God. I learned this when I was reading “the Pillars of the Earth”. This may sound completely corny to some of you, but someone somewhere out there was sending me a message of hope. Could this have been a complete coincidence, perhaps, but I like to believe there is a power greater than me looking out for me and was sending me a message. As soon as I recognized my son’s name, I glanced over at the other tattoo and I could not help but to smile.



The bus departed from Southwest Riverside County Detention Center at 5:30am. It took a very familiar route and memories started to rush into my brain. Some of the memories were good and some were of the “how could I do this to my family” kind. I try to focus on positive events, but I couldn’t help my eyes welling up with tears. This is not how I envisioned leaving a place I have become very fond of but it is my own fault. I do have a lifetime of days to ensure there is nothing but positive achievements for here on in. I intend to do this one day at a time.

We arrived at the Riverside Justice Center in Riverside, California around 6:30am. The last time I was here was for jury duty a little over two years ago. I actually served on a civil jury trial and when we went into deliberations the other members of the jury elected me foreman. We found in favor of the plaintiff but only awarded them $1.00 in damages. We felt both parties were in the wrong and wanted our verdict to state this. But now I am returning to this building as an inmate, my what a world of difference a few years can make.

During the bus ride, the police officers who drove and guard the bus presented a little musical humiliation for the inmates. The officers sent out a dedication to all the inmates (of course including me) with the song from the television program “COPS” – “Bad Boys”. This song was played at a very loud decibel and got a big roar from the inmates (not including me). We arrived at the Center where I was eagerly awaiting some direction and at the very least I wanted to sign my paperwork. Instead of getting directions or for that matter any information; I was placed in a 3x3 vestibule. Apparently all of the holding cells were full and this vestibule was the only “storage” area available. I was placed in the vestibule by a Police Officer who just opened and closed the door with no words communicated. I fully expected this and when I was first arraigned in March of last year, I spent 24 hours in a holding cell but my mind was ready for anything. I had heard that the bus for State Prison leaves on Mondays and Fridays from Riverside, so I was ready to spend 48 hours in a holding cell. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to spend the entire time in the vestibule. After a few hours or it could have been less than that because time seems to stand still when there is nothing to do except stare at the four walls and there is no clock in site. After this period of time I had to go to the bathroom and this vestibule had no facilities. In fact the vestibule only had a stainless steel chair and a metal desk which looked into the business office, but the blinds were closed. The only vestige to the outside world was the window or the door leading into the vestibule.

I was mostly standing because sitting was much too uncomfortable. I had to go to the bathroom so I needed to get the attention of a Police Officer. Unbeknownst to me the vestibule was sound proof and the only way to get anyone’s attention was to pound on the window. I finally got the attention of the officer and after a few minutes I was let into a holding cell with a toilet. After a few minutes (or longer) another inmate was admitted into the same holding cell. This inmate was in his twenties and he struck up a conversation with me. After some small talk he started talking about his case which he has been fighting for over one year. Even though his case was specific to him it was something I had heard from other inmates discussing their individual cases. The stories are either centered around a person who is lying and trying to frame the inmate. I am very interested to hear from these inmates and I was interested to hear this inmate only to pass the time. Our conversation or shall I say his conversation, I only interjected a few “hows” or “oh no’s” and let him talk. After a few more hours or less two other inmates entered the holding cell, now there were four of us in the cell. One of the inmates who entered the cell seemed to know the inmate I was speaking with. The two of them went on and on discussing the trials and tribulations of the County Jail system. Apparently between these two individuals, they had been in all of the jails in Riverside County and they were giving their opinions on each facility along with other jail tales. I did find it fascinating because it did pass the time and it was certainly a conversation I never thought I would have heard. As they spoke my paranoia started working on my mind. They spoke of the jail facility which is located three stories above this holding cell. This facility is the oldest and probably the toughest one in the county and as they spoke I kept thinking to myself, thank God I am being transferred to State Prison and only have to stay in the holding cell for the next day and a half.

Dinner came, which meant it was around 4:00pm and the two inmates were still doing most of the talking, that is not true, they were doing all of the talking. The other inmate and I were quiet the entire time. While I was listening to the conversation, I was wondering why none of the Police Officers has asked me to sign my state prison paperwork. I didn’t dare ask the officers because I noticed the other inmates asking questions only to be met with resistance. I also had seen my “jail card” and noticed it had a housing location on it. I thought this to be suspicious but at the very least I could get a shower and sleep on a foam mattress before being sent to State Prison. I am guessing that it must have been a little before 6:00pm when the officer removed three of the four (one additional inmate entered after dinner) inmates for housing which left myself and another inmate in the holding cell. After these three were removed, the other inmate and I were ushered into a smaller holding cell.

This holding cell had two four foot wooden benches which were laid out consecutively on the right hand side. On the left hand side was a toilet. The walls were painted green on the first four feet of the wall and white the remainder all the way up to the ceiling. The ceiling was very high, 12 feet, which gave the room a bigger feeling (thank God). There was one security camera positioned in the far corner of the room which may or may not be operational. Around the camera was graffiti and I thought it impressive someone climbed up 12 feet to scribble some unintelligible words. I wanted to paint a picture because this is where I knew I was going to be for the next 36 hours. I was wrong (yet again), but I will get to that soon. As the night approached which I could not tell because there are no windows anywhere, the other inmate and myself tried to get comfortable. We each took up one of the four foot benches. These benches were four foot long and one foot wide. They were also very hard and not built for comfort nor were they built for sleeping on. I found the one and only roll of toilet paper and tucked it under my head as I laid down on the bench. I was operating on only 45 minutes of sleep so I should have been tired, but I could not fall asleep. These holding cells were located directly next to the “drunk tank” and the doors on these cells slide and are anything but quiet in fact when they are opened and closed it shakes the en tire holding cell. I didn’t realize Wednesday night was big drinking nights but it seemed like the door to the “drunk tank” was opened every two minutes. I did learn something throughout the night; the officers keep each person for four hours before releasing them. I thought the intoxicated person was confined overnight but jail cells are so overcrowded the drunken person can only stay four hours. I noticed there seemed to be a great deal of traffic at 6:00 and 10:00 pm entering the tank, maybe there are some very attractive “happy hour” specials in the city of Riverside.

Try as I may, I couldn’t get comfortable because those of you know me know I am very skinny. Being skinny does not have any benefit when lying on a hard wooden bench. I could feel just about every bone in my body as I tried to find the right position. As I laid there and closed my eyes I thought of the four most important people in my life. You can probably guess the first three; my wife, daughter and son. The fourth most important person (please I am not slighting anyone, because I have so many important people in my life) is my mom. She has not only been posting this blog but she has been a tremendous advocate. I owe this wonderful lady so very much and I love her so very much. One of the drawbacks of being in a holding cell is thinking. There is nothing else to do but I tried to focus on these four wonderful people which turned a horrible situation into a tolerable situation.

Paranoia - Part Three

August 8, 2006


Officially it has been 28 days since my sentencing date. If this were a rehabilitation program I would be “graduating”/rejoining society today. Unfortunately as the Judge made perfectly clear this is not a rehabilitation program, this is the consequences of my actions. It would be nice to dream of my release but right now I will settle for the transfer to the next stop.

I was speaking with one of my trustees and asked them how long it typically takes to get sent to State Prison after sentencing. His reply was one to two weeks and he wanted to know how long I have been waiting. I told him almost one month and he looked at me in disbelief. He said, “one month there must be something wrong and I should put in a “kite” (request for information) to classification to see what was going on because it shouldn’t take one month for a transfer. I need to give a little background on “kites” before I go further with this story. Over the past few weeks, rather since the time of my incarceration, there have been some controversies over “kites” to rat out other inmates which obviously cause problems. I have been reluctant to fill out any “kites” for fear of a misperception. I have only filled out one kite which was the kite requesting my special meal and daily vitamin. We all know I was denied but before depositing the “kite” in the mail drop I ensured a trustee knew the information in the “kite” because I showed them the “kite”. I didn’t want to be known as someone who writes many “kites”. I just want to do my time and go home to my family.

Now I received the blessing from the trustee for this “kite” I knew there shouldn’t be any problems. Taking the queue from my previous “kite” which was too long and was not read, I composed a three sentence letter which basically stated, I have been here almost a month and have not been transferred to State Prison when can I expect to be transferred? I wrote the “kite”, had the trustee review it, and dropped it in the mail slot. At a little past 8:00 pm this evening, I received a call over the intercom to come to the front slider. I thought this was the call to fill out the paperwork from my impending departure to State Prison. I was wrong (again) it was not. It was an officer standing out front with a DNA kit. All felonies regardless of violent or non-violent committed by individuals in the State of California must submit to a DNA sample. I was wondering when they were going to administer this because on the day my cell mate was sentenced, he was immediately ask to give a DNA sample. Maybe the “kite” I submitted reminded someone that I was missing the DNA sample but as I approached the officer, he asked me if I were sentenced today. I replied, “No four weeks ago”. I am fairly certain the officer did not read the “kite” by his asking of this question. As I replied to the officer about me being sentenced four weeks ago I asked him when I should expect to be sent to State Prison. He replied in a very unassuring term “either tonight or within one week”. I got the impression he didn’t really know just like everyone else I have asked in the past. The office swabbed the left side of my mouth and I submitted a right thumb print.

That was it and now my DNA is in a huge database stored most likely in Sacramento along with Charles Manson’s and other notorious California felons. After submitting the DNA sample I felt good. No, not because anyone can mention me and Charles Manson in the same sentence but because it was one step closer to being back to my family. As I walked back into my cell I told my cellmate I was happy to submit my DNA sample for that very reason and he completely understood.

My cellmate was sentenced 8 days after me but he has one more court appearance before he is eligible to be transferred to State Prison. He received a two year term and is also very anxious to start his sentence so he can complete it sooner as opposed to later. I thought it would be nice if we were transferred at the same time because at least I would know someone.

Paranoia Part Two

August 7, 2006


As the start of another week as I get closer to four weeks from my sentencing date, I was hoping for the earlier morning call instructing me of my transfer to State Prison but it did not happen. There was an inmate who was sentenced this past Thursday and was sent to State Prison last evening. According to other inmates this person was sentenced “forth with” which means immediately and again according to these same inmates this is the preferable and quickest way to go. I am fairly certain my Judge did not mention “forth with” when rendering my sentence. Hopefully this does not mean I have to spend half of my term in the County Jail because this would make matters worse. Last evening and earlier today, I wrote two letters, one to my attorney and one to my good friend. In each letter I asked the same thing which was my need of assistance ensuring my transfer to State Prison. The letters may have sounded needy because quite frankly they were but I am just about at my wits end. I know there that doesn’t destroy us (me) makes us (me) stronger. I could do without the destruction for more construction. Over the past 17 months I have constructed my life in recovery and it has felt so good. I have never had as much peace and serenity in my life while positively working my recovery. However, over these almost four weeks my peace and serenity has been eroded. Now paranoia and uncertainty have started to creep in.

While working my recovery I worked the Gamblers Anonymous Program to the best of my ability. Now I still try to work the program everyday but there is an essential part of the program missing which are meetings. No matter how many dear friends from the GA Program visit me nothing can replace a real meeting. I miss reading the Combo Book, “A Day at a Time” and the “Red Book”, but what I miss the most is the therapy/sharing portion of the meeting. It is not so much my sharing but it would be nice because God knows I have a great deal on my mind (which is why I am writing), it is the sharing of others. Invariably someone says something in their sharing which always hits home with me, I miss this so very much. By really listening to a fellow compulsive gambler, I always learn something about myself.

I have to constantly tell myself this is only temporary and it will pass. I don’t want to wallow in self-pity and self-doubt. I want to move forward and continue being a better person. Right now I am maintaining because my biggest need is survival. I need to survive this temporary situation to the best of my ability. Obviously, I have never been in a situation like this before nor do I ever want to be in this position again. I am not sure if there was anything other than enrolling in a military boot camp that I could have done to prepare for this particular situation, but I am trying my best.

Prior to lunch there was another “incident” but this incident was more covert than the other two over the weekend. The “incident” was less offensive than the prior ones but it didn’t help my paranoia. It was, however, interesting to see the after effects. The after effects were like two prize fighter hugging and congratulating each other after the fight. All the bad blood was gone and everyone would be friends again. Hopefully, this is the last “incident” here. I don’t expect it to the last incident I will witness but hopefully I will always be a witness as opposed to a participant in any future incidents.

Revision in Address

His return address (which I just confirmed with the mailroom today) is:

Paul Del Vacchio #F38991

North Kern State Prison
PO Box 5oo4
Delano, Ca
93216

C-3B-173 (his "room" number)

Paranoia Part One

August 6, 2006

Today is a Sunday, which means it is a visiting day. I look forward to visiting days because it means I get to see at least one of my good friends. Today I got to see two of my good friends one after another. The call came after my favorite lunch (peanut sandwich) to come to the front door and go upstairs for a visit. I am always in a good mood after eating more than bread and lettuce and the announcement made me feel even better.

When I enter the visiting room I never know who is coming to visit. It is always great to see one of my friends when they enter the visiting room but today was even more special. It was even more special because my very dear friend who has done so much for me and my family finally was allowed to visit. My friend had attempted to visit a few other times but due to power outages, lockdowns and not being able to get in, they finally made it.

I was very happy to see my great friend and we passed to 50 minutes rather quickly. This is a person who I have gotten to know very well over the last 17 months and over this period of time we talked just about everyday. God I miss those conversations and today’s visit made up for lost time. I miss those conversations because through these conversations, I realized I am a good person and I have a good friend for a lifetime. This is not a little thing because it not only helped this past 17 months it helps me each and everyday.

Our time had run out as the officer flashed the lights. I was sad to see my friend go because in all likelihood these will be the last visits for me due to my pending transfer. Yes, I am excited to get on the road through the California Prison system but I am sad to leave my friends behind. My sadness was short lived because the officer came over the intercom and told me to stay in the visiting room because I had another visit. I waited a few minutes and in walked another great friend who has visited me each and every weekend since my sentencing. We also passed the 50 minutes quite quickly and I was sad to see my friend go but my spirits were lifted. My spirits were lifted as I walked downstairs and back into my cell. It was almost time for dinner and I passed the hour reading my 14th novel “Thief of Time” by John Hillerman (more on this later). Then it was time for dinner (chow). I have detailed dinners before and the food really doesn’t vary much. Dinners are always uneventful except for today. Dinner today was very eventful and I don’t mean this in a positive way. I wrote about an incident which occurred Friday evening, well at dinner today there was a carryover from this incident. This incident lasted much longer than Friday’s incident and involved more people. Yes, I did my best to “stay safe” and no, nothing happened to me nor was I harmed physically. I may have been harmed mentally because my paranoia is running rampant internally. I have never been nor do I ever want to be subjected to a “knuckle search” but today along with 63 other inmates, I was.

Apparently, the guards look for red knuckles or bleeding of any kind. If they find any of these they pull out the inmate and interrogate them. As the guard was doing the “knuckle search” I thought to myself what If I stopped and did my knuckle push-ups like I do so many other times after dinner, would the officer pull me out? See paranoia, no I did not do any knuckle push-ups because I wanted to get back to my cell as soon as possible and see what was going to happen. Much to my surprise only three inmates were pulled out of their cells and interrogated. I guess the “knuckle search” is little too inconclusive. After calming my heart rate down to a reasonable level, I spoke with my cellmate, who by the way was not involved in the incident. My cellmate has been around the prison block a few times and as we spoke, my paranoia started to diminish. These things happen occasionally and I shouldn’t get too stressed out by it. As long as I mind my own business and keep my nose clean everything should be okay.

After this incident, which disturbed most of dinner, I thought we would be locked down for the evening. I was wrong because after two of the inmates who were interrogated returned to their cells (the third inmate was reassigned and did not return) we were able to have dayroom (being let out) for an hour. This was good because I needed a shower. I was not able to get a shower earlier because our dayroom was at the time of my visits. I took my shower and after taking my shower some more paranoia returned as I watched everyone move around the dayroom with a keen interest. I did speak with another inmate who assured me I had nothing to worry about. This is another thing I need to be careful of is to NOT show my inner paranoia. It really is a fine line and I must be strong or I will suffer a nervous breakdown somewhere over these next few years.

Let There Be Light

August 1st – 5th

Each day is remarkably the same as the previous one. In fact I have to ensure that I receive the daily newspaper so I can actually check to see if the date has changed. Tuesday night is the delivery of the commissary items and now I am an active participant. I didn’t want to waste any money on these items because I thought I could be transferred any day. Now the thought of being transferred has lost some of its thunder because I have been here three weeks. I know I will be transferred someday but I need to live each day as one day at a time.

Living one day at a time is a key ingredient in my recovery and now I have come to the realization that living a day at a time is the key to my surviving the next two years. I need to digress a little on the two years. Even though I have received a four year sentence, I have been told (which doesn’t necessarily mean it is correct) that I have to serve half of that sentence before I will be eligible for parole. I have also heard (again I don’t know if it’s correct) that my time here in the county jail is not exactly part of the two years. This means that my time here is not being credited the same way as the state prison. Each day I spend in state prison counts as two days towards my sentence. However, each day I spend here counts as 1-½ days. I have no idea why there would be a difference but apparently there is. For every three days I stay here, I am losing one day toward my two-year term. There is a distinct possibility that I can serve more than 2 years before being released. Hopefully, I will find the answer to this at Processing Center.

Back to commissary night~ I have found my niche for food so for those of you who are concerned about my eating, please stop worrying. Now that I know that I am not eligible for a special meal because I am healthy, I have found food that should supply me with the necessary nutrients. In addition to eating cereal, along with the fruits and breads served with the daily meals, I have ordered peanut butter, peanuts, trail mix, rice and vegetable soup. After dinner is served, I make myself either a vegetable soup or a cup of rice. This not only fills my stomach but also provides some vitamins. After I finish this I will eat a handful of peanuts for protein. Additionally, in the afternoon I will have peanut butter for more protein. I will not waste away and the fact that I am not doing any aerobic activity, I may actually put on weight. (Didn’t want to interject ‘cause it is his blog, but I just have to! You all know what I mean? THREE LOUD CHEERS FOR MORE WEIGHT!!!!!)

Enough of the food. Here is an interesting story about wrong impressions. I was taking a shower and before I go into the story I must dispel some rumors about the prison showers. There are four individual shower stalls. Two of the stalls are located on the bottom level and the other two are on the top level. There is a door that locks on the inside and all the inmates make it a point that one person uses the shower at a time No there are no group showers and it feels relatively safe. There aren’t any hot or cold-water faucets, just a button which releases the water through the showerhead. For the most past it is a hot shower but once the button is pressed you get what you get. The water stays on between 3-5 minutes depending on the shower stall-some are longer-some are stronger. But once the shower stops and I push the button again for another 3-5 minute cycle. We can stay as long as we want but when people are waiting, it is good to get done sooner as opposed to later.

There you have the shower background, now back to the story. I had finished, dried myself off, dressed, gathered my belongings and went downstairs. The officer announced that it was time to go back to our cells because the hour was up, I retreated back to my cell and started to put away my shower items. As I was putting these away I realized I left my bottle of shampoo in the shower stall. Now we were in a lockdown status which means no one is allowed to leave his cell. I had no way of going back upstairs to see if my shampoo was still there. In fact, as I thought about it I was one of the first ones to get into the shower so I thought my shampoo was as good as gone. This was only the second time I used that shampoo so the bottle was fairly full. I spoke with my cellmate and he told me I should ask one of the trustees if he could locate my missing bottle of shampoo.

When the lockdown was over, the top tier was let out for their hour of dayroom time. I saw one of the trustees and called him over to explain what had happened and he told me he would try to find it. I thought I had no chance because after all, I am in jail with people who like myself have committed crimes. They like myself would not be considered the most honest people so if someone found a full bottle of shampoo, they would most likely keep it. I was completely WRONG! The trustee located the person who found it in the shower. The shampoo was returned to me by a very nice “God-Fearing” inmate. He told me that he was not going to hold up the bottle of shampoo and ask who it belongs to because he had done that before and at least four inmates tried to claim it as their own. He was very apologetic to me because he didn’t return it sooner. I told him there was no reason for him to feel that way; I was just happy someone found it and did the right thing.

For the most part, there are good people in this place who are doing the right things now. They may have (just like me) made mistakes in their pasts but are now trying their best to be honest people. My impression about not having the bottle of shampoo returned was way off base and I am disappointed in myself to have thought this. I need to work on this and have more faith in people especially in a place like this. I am happy I was wrong and I am happy to continue to learn more about myself.

After seven weeks of not having any lights in the cell, we finally have them! All day the electricians worked on the lights which meant we were confined to our cells. We were only allowed out for lunch but no other time. I was happy to see the electrician and as he worked, he recognized what the problem was right away. Why it took seven weeks to figure this out, I have no idea. He found the problem was a short in the connector cables due to a faulty cable. The electrician couldn’t understand why such shoddy cable was used because if a standard one was used he would not have had the problem. I guess when they were building the place eight years ago (it seems older than that on the inside) cost may have been an issue, so why not cut corners? It is only inmates that are being affected so who would care?

I don’t mean this as malicious; it is only how I feel. Apparently, the cable that was installed while building this complex was inferior. Over the course of eight years, either the mice ate the cable or it just wore out. The electrician did fix the lights, however, he ran out of time and had to come back the next day. As I stated earlier, half the cells had no light and the other half did. Even the cells that had lights went dark when the electrician left for the day. My cell was one of the eight that had lights.

When the light went on, the cell looked very different in the bright light. The walls went from an off peach color to a pink and the dirt was very noticeable. Before, with the lights not working, the cell did not appear that dirty, but once the lights went on the illusion of the cell being somewhat clean quickly diminished.

The light is made up of two fluorescent tubes, three feet long which provides plenty of light for the cell. In fact, because I reside on the top bunk and the light is only three feet away, it feels like a tanning bed. Around midnight, the two fluorescent lights are turned off in favor of a 75-watt bulb. The light stays on throughout the evening until 5:00 am when the fluorescent lights are turned on as a wake-up call for breakfast.

This first night with having a light on while going to sleep was a bit of an adjustment. I went from total darkness to virtually lying on a tanning bed to having a 75-watt bulb staring at me while I slept. For obvious reasons, we do not have access to a light switch but oh, how I have taken for granted the simple comforts of home like turning off a lamp before going to bed and having natural sunlight shine through a real window as I awake. I do like the fact that I can now read and write in my cell after 7:30 pm but sleeping with the lights on is going to take some getting used to.

Tonight with most of the cells dark, the “lights out” noises were plentiful. Typically, on a given night after the lights go off, there is some “dialogue” (for lack of a better term) between the inmates. Tonight the dialogue was between the usual suspects and more. Some of the “dialogue” I can understand, but most of it I cannot. It usually starts as insults from one cell to the next and escalates to howling. It usually dies down after a few minutes but tonight it lasted much longer. This didn’t matter because I had light so I could read – sleeping is another story.

I finished my 11th book KING OF GREY by Richard Knaak. As I mentioned previously, I will read any book just to pass the time and this book filled that category. The book certainly was not my favorite nor would it be something I would normally read. It is somewhat a science fiction/supernatural thriller about birds taking over humans to rule their kingdom. I had a hard time with the book because as I was reading it, I became acutely aware that I am not a visual person. I had a difficult time picturing the supernatural characters. I am more of an auditory person which may explain why I had such a hard with geometry as opposed to chemistry. In geometry, I had such a difficult time with shapes, sizes area, quadrants, etc while in chemistry; I had no problems with formulas. Yes, there are formulas in geometry but the spaces always threw me off. I know I am going off on a tangent (no pun intended) but as I was reading this crazy book, I started to think how I see things when I read which is very literal. I could not get into the characters because my literal translation of them was very disjointed. I did finish the book and was very happy to find a Tom Clancy novel, OP-CENTER-ACTS OF WAR available.

Tom Clancy is a tremendous writer/creator and has a whole series based on OP-CENTER. I read OP-CENTER MIRROR IMAGE earlier and fortunately for me this novel is the next one in the series. The main characters are essentially the same so it was a pleasant continuation of the previous novel. The book was written in 1997 and had some very early foreshadowing of real life events which took place in 2001 and also currently taking place now. I think Tom Clancy would make an excellent Secretary of State or Secretary of Defense. Even though his stories are fiction, some of the writings are based on actual events which gave me goose bumps when I thought about real life events that have taken place subsequent to the book being written. I am glad that I discovered this series because it not only makes the day and now the night go faster, it is another silver-lining in this dark cloud which surrounds me.

I did finish this book (#12) on Thursday and found yet another OP-CENTER book by Tom Clancy, OP-CENTER LINE OF CONTROL. There appears to be a gap in the series between these two books, but it really doesn’t matter because any reference made to previous story is detailed completely.

It is Thursday, visiting day. I have been very fortunate to a visit every visiting day and today was no exception. My good friend from the GA program who visited me last Thursday came again today. I have only known this person for 3 months and in that time we really have gotten to know each other. Had I been sentenced in April, I would not have met this person and I am very fortunate I can now call this person a friend. Everything does happen for a reason.

We spent the entire hour dissecting gambling careers. This was like a GA meeting on steroids (??) without the Conbo (??) book. I may not have GA meetings readily available, but I am making the most of the visits I have with my dear GA friends. I also may not have the GA literature available (which I dearly miss) but I am trying to get my daily GA Fix through these visits. I do look forward to Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays.

After my visit, I found out from my wife through my incredible brother-in-law my state prison paperwork has been completed. He knows more about my case than anyone else including my attorney. I was very happy to hear the paperwork is complete. (Thank you so very much, Doug!) At least it hasn’t gotten lost, and maybe within the next 2 weeks I will be transferred to the State Prison Processing Facility.

Once I am transferred to the processing facility, I can no longer receive visits nor can I make any telephone calls for the first 30 days. If I am transferred within the next week or two, this means I will not have any contact with anyone on my 41st birthday. This is yet another consequence in a long line of consequences brought on by my compulsive gambling. It really is okay because it means I am one step closer to being back with my family. I know my daughter will be disappointed because she keeps asking me if I will call her on my birthday. I keep telling her I will try. I am sure my wife will explain and everything will be all right.

The electrician finished up and all the lights were fixed in all but two of the cells. For some reason, the cells on the far right on top and bottom are still without lights. It maybe another seven weeks before they are fixed. I had to look a few times to discover the lights were not working in these two cells which are on the opposite end from my cell. At least whoever is in there, will not have to contend with the glaring night light, but they will have to contend with the seemingly never-ending night which starts around 7:30 pm and lasts till 6:15 am the next morning.

Thursday evening also brought commissary once again so I restocked my essentials. Commissary is passed out by one of the trustees who stands at the front of the common area (dayroom) where he receives the bag from the “commissary lady” who is on the outside of the dayroom. The trustee then calls out the last name of the inmate. When his name is called out, he goes to the area and shows the “commissary lady” his bracelet. On each bracelet is bar code, photograph, name, birth date, and the race of the inmate. The bracelets are delineated by color ~ blue-for protective custody (this is where I am housed) white-for general population, red-for really bad guys who don’t associate with anyone. There maybe more colors that I am not aware of. The name on the bracelet is verified to the name on the commissary bag and then it is given to the inmate. The trustee had previously tried to pronounce my last name and now has given up. Hence, I am known as “White Paul”! I guess it could have been much worse. I did get a good laugh out of it and so did the trustee.

Friday is the only day that there is nothing extra or special going on. Monday has recreation. Tuesday has commissary. Wednesday has clothing exchange (white only).. Thursday has visits. Saturday has clothing exchange (all clothes and sheets) and visits. Sunday has visits. Typically, on Friday night we are let out of our cells for two hours as opposed to our normal one-hour. Tonight was no exception; during the first hour I paced the thirty-seven steps across and back through the common area. The second hour, I watched some movie with Sara Michelle Gellar on TV. T really is very difficult to hear the television, but at least it passes the time and I am learning to lip read.

As I was watching this movie with my cellmate and a few others something happened which brought the serious reality of my consequences forward. I will not go into specifics but I will day I was not at all comfortable with my situation. Nothing happened to me nor was I in any immediate danger. As the event took place, my heart elevated considerably and all I could do is remember the words my wife had said to me on the telephone a few hours ago, “Stay safe.” I was safe, but I didn’t feel safe for the first time in three and a half weeks.

I shouldn’t feel safe because I am in jail and from here I go to state prison. No matter how respectful everyone appears to be or how cordial, there are some very bad people in this place. If I look strange at someone or if someone overhears something indiscreetly, things can get very bad because this is jail. By the way, I found out the distinction between jail and prison – jail is short term and prison is long term.

It took awhile for my heart rate to come down and I suspect this won’t be the last tiem heart accelerates, but I must be strong. This is my fate caused by my actions and I must deal with each consequence accordingly. I have every reason to believe everything will be okay, but I must not lose focus of the fact that I an in jail/prison and I must stay safe. I must stay safe so I can be with my family for a lifetime. This is a short-term journey. What matters most is those three people who are currently residing in New Jersey, when I look forward to the day that I can give them a big hug and a kiss!

I had difficulty sleeping – not because of what happened – but because of the light. First, it is a “tanning booth” then it is an “interrogation room” with the one loan bulb staring in my eyes. I did, however, finish my 13th book (who’s counting? I guess I am) Tom Clancy’s OP-CENTER LINE OF CONTROL. The great thing about reading for me is I forgot all about where I am and the writing is so good that I actually felt that I was in the Himalaya Mountains with the characters. I think this is the last book of the series available here. Somewhere down the line, I would like to read the other books in the series and it appears I should have plenty of time to accomplish this in the coming years.

I finally drifted off to sleep and before I knew it, I heard the 5:00 am breakfast call. I got up and did some push-ups (I really don’t count anymore, but I know it is over 500) while I waited to go out for breakfast. After breakfast was the same as usual – more push-ups, brushed my teeth, and caught a nap. The nap didn’t last long because shortly after 7:30 am, the call came for clothing exchange. We are instructed to strip the bunk and all our clothes where we drop them off in the common area. Those of us (me) who are turning in our boxers must wrap the blanket around our waists.

It is odd to see that not many other inmates choose to turn in their boxers. In fact, I would say about 80% keep them. We are able to exchange our boxers on Wednesday, as well. But for me – someone who has always had a clean pair of underwear on everyday before entering this place – it is hard to imagine only changing my underwear once or twice a week.

Now it was time to wait for the officers to inspect our cells. Last week it took an hour for the officers to come. Today it took two hours. I waited patiently with the itchy wool blanket wrapped around my waist. I finally received my new clothes and after receiving these, we all file outside in the recreation yard and put on our clothes.

It was absolutely beautiful outside with a clear blue sky through the mesh netting. The temperature was in the 70’s with the sun beating down. I have not been able to go outside for the past two weeks, so I wanted to stay as long as possible soaking up the sun’s rays. Yet, another thing I have taken for granted. Yes, I know barring any unforeseen cataclysmic activity the sun will come up, but seeing it and enjoying it is another story. It felt great for the few minutes I was outside.

As I was getting my clothes, I saw an officer who processed me three and a half weeks ago. He was very nice to me then and I have seen him every Saturday at the clothing exchange. He always asks me how I am doing and my replay as always is, “Okay, how are you?” He says fine, thank you. That is the extent of our conversation. It is very cordial and the officer is very pleasant. I noticed that the officer didn’t appear to speak with any other inmates except for me. I really didn’t think anything of it until I was outside getting dressed with the other inmates. A fellow inmate asked if I knew that officer. I said no, “He was just being polite.” The other inmate then asked me if I had been an officer or worked with the officers to which I replied, “No, again we were just being polite to one another.”

Before arriving here, I was given a quick lesson on the do’s and don’ts of prison life. One of those “don’t” was “don’t get too friendly with the officers or the other inmates may resent it.” I had no idea having a two sentence conversation with an officer could be construed as being too friendly, but apparently it can be. This same inmate came up to me again about an hour later after I was getting out of the shower and asked me again if I worked as an officer. I tried the best I could to downplay the conversation, but this inmate is going to believe what he wants to believe. That is why it is entirely up to me to “stay safe.”

After this quick conversation, I was being called for a 1:00 pm visit. Again, I am fortunate enough to get one visit per visiting day. When I enter the room, I don’t know who will be joining me for a visit so it is always a nice surprise to see a person I know walk through the door. I was shocked to see my same GA friend who visited me on Thursday, walk through the door today. My friend wanted to make sure I received a visit from someone so he checked the list and saw that there was no one here to see me. We had another great visit/therapy session and it made my afternoon go by that much faster. My friend was right; if he didn’t visit me, I would not have received a visit from anyone today. I am so blessed to have such great friends.

Dinner this evening was the one meal I could eat more than one item. The dinner consisted of rice, bean, onions, broccoli, and cornbread. Unfortunately, the beans had chunks of meat in them or I could have actually eaten it but I settled on the rice and cornbread. My cellmate was kind enough to give me his cornbread and rice in exchange for his beans. After finishing the meal, I was full which meant I didn’t need my own rice or vegetable soup after the meal. It was nice to taste hot food (the rice) with my dinner. Oh, the simple things in life.

After dinner, I fully expected to be confined to the cell for the night. The last three Saturdays had all the inmates confined to the cells for the power outages and I think lower officer levels on Saturdays to save on overtime. However, again I was wrong. We were let out of our cells for an hour this evening. I walked the entire hour which felt very good!
Toward the end of the hour, one of the inmates who was upstairs motioned to me to come up. This was the same inmate who asked me if I was affiliated with the officer earlier in the day. I couldn’t ignore him so I went upstairs. He was talking with another inmate who wanted to know what my charges were. I told him and this inmate’s cellmate said he read about me in the paper. I am sure what that was all about but they asked me again if I was affiliated with the police (officer) and again I assured them that I was not. Good thing for me, there was one other inmate who was there and I had spoken to him before. He told me not to worry about anything because I was an “okay” guy.

It appears my low profile appearance is slowly being broken down. Hopefully, within the next week or less I will be transferred to the next stop where I can pursue my anonymity all over again. I don’t feel like I am in any danger and even if I were, I couldn’t tell anyone because that would make matters worse. Yes, it is time to move on, pay my debt to society and get back to my family.

For some reason, there was no yelling or screaming when the lights went out this evening. Maybe everyone was exhausted because it was eerily quiet. This was a nice change of pace. It didn’t expedite my sleep because of the light and the fact that the officers seem to check the cells every hour on the hour which causes a loud bang when the exterior door is opened. I know my cellmate said I would get used to the noise at night, but I doubt it. I have always been a light sleeper and I don’t expect anything to change now. It is another thing I must deal with on a temporary basis.

With any fortune, my next entry should be from the next stop. There is an interim stop before getting to the State Prison Processing Center. I should be at this interim stop four or five days, then it is on to the Processing Center. I am more than ready to move on and I will be a little disappointed if I am not transferred this week, but I do know this is completely out of my control. As always, the “Serenity Prayer” will get me through, as well as thinking about my incredible family. I know my situation is only temporary and with the guidance of my Higher Power, I will make it. I will not only make it, but I will continue to be a better person.

Unexpected Letter

July 29th-August 1st

Roll call - which consists of an officer going from cell to cell barking out the prospective inmates last name and the inmate is required to answer with their correct first name, occurs each day between the hours of 11:00 pm-12:00 am. This insures that the inmates are in their proper cells, but mostly, it insures that all inmates are accounted for. I don’t know if all the inmates are not accounted for nor do I ever hope to find out. After roll call, the same officer comes through and delivers the mail. This usually occurs during midnight.

Lately, I have been getting at least one piece of mail a day. I thank everyone who has written because it helps me immensely get through one more long boring evening. As I have detailed previously, my cell has no interior light and the only light that illuminates the first six inches of the cell, comes from the lights in the common area. I can barely read the letters at this time of night even if I lean all the way up to the window on the door in the very front of the cell.

Anytime I receive a letter, I am very anxious to read it and I don’t want to wait 6 ½ more hours for the sun to come up. So I am always leaning on the door. Tonight (Friday, July 29th) I received a letter from an unexpected source. I noticed on the envelope that the return address was local and I assumed it was from one of my GA friends. I quickly opened the letter and discovered it was not.

The letter was from someone I worked with in Southern California and Las Vegas. Our careers had crossed paths and there are only a handful of people who share my previous work history. In fact, those who shared my previous work history WERE FRIENDS of mine at one time. But due to my transgressions have quite understandably distanced themselves from me. This letter was not from one of those former friends. It was from a person I worked with at two places and yes, we occasionally had work related issues during those times, but our interaction was limited.

When I recognized the name on the letter, I was shocked! Yes, we had worked together and were always cordial with one another, but I wouldn’t consider us friends. Before reading the letter I was impressed this person took the time to compose a two page letter. As I read the letter with the little light coming through the front door, I didn’t know whether I should be angry or happy.

I know and I have come to grips with the fact that most people don’t understand my criminal actions. I have no right to be angry with anyone for their opinions, so I try to take everything with a grain of salt. As I read the letter, I had a hard time understanding the writer’s intentions. Maybe I was missing key words because of the lack of light or I did just not understand the well thought out writing. I read the letter twice and retired to my bunk. All kinds of thoughts were in my head, but one thing stood out. This person whom I have known for almost the last nine years, but don’t really know, took the time to write me. This in and of itself gave me comfort.

When I woke up in the morning, I re-read the letter for the third time and I finally discovered the meaning of the letter. I guess I am a bit slow, but at least I finally understood the letter. The meaning of the letter was twofold (at least in my opinion) this person was reaching out and asking some very good questions. By doing so, this person was helping me with yet another aspect of my recovery. This person genuinely wanted to know the “why” of it all.

On Saturday morning, I penciled (I don’t have a pen) a response, which hopefully clarified some of the questions, and by doing so I remained honest and grounded in my recovery. Step Twelve, in the Gamblers Program of Recovery, requires members to give back. Part of giving back for me is telling my story to anyone interested. Unbeknownst to the author of the letter, he was helping me in so many ways.

Hopefully, this person receives my letter and we can have a dialogue that will be beneficial to both of us. Many strange things have happened since I entered recovery over 17 months ago and mostly all of these strange things have been positive. Sitting in a place like this (jail) I am looking for all the positive energy I can gather, and this letter was one of them. I may have outlined this before, so please forgive me if I am being redundant. A typical day here at the Southwest Riverside Detention Center consists of the following:
Breakfast 5:00 am – followed by prescription medication dispensing (aka “pillcall”) at 7:00 am
Lunch 11:00 am
Dayroom time - when the inmates are let out into the common area between 1 – 3:00 pm
Dinner – 4 pm followed by another “pillcall” anywhere between the hours of 7 and 10 pm
On most nights is another dayroom time between 8 and 11 pm
Roll call – 11 pm
Mail delivery – midnight then finally “lights out” which means the lights in the common area are dimmed and presumably everyone goes to sleep until 5 am when the cycle starts all over again.

For one reason or another, we have not had the night session of “Dayroom” on Saturday which was the case today. This makes the third consecutive Saturday where we were confined to our cells from 4:30 pm to 5:00 am the next morning. The sun loses it effect on any cell around 7:30 pm so I cannot read or write during this period of time. This makes for a very long night. I have been assured that each step away from here gets progressively better and I realize time will pass and all of this is just temporary. However, when there is nothing to do except to stare at the four walls of my cell, it makes the nights go by very slowly.

Today, being Saturday, means visits for inmates for our section. I have been very fortunate because each Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday, I have been very fortunate and received at least one visit per eligible visiting day. This does not include the visits which were turned away due to the power outage. Today was no exception and I did receive one visit from a very dear friend. Even though my friend had to be somewhere else later this afternoon, he made it a priority to visit me. As always, it was a great visit and really anytime I am out of my cell talking with someone on the “outside” is a good day. My friend told me he would continue to visit me each Saturday until I am transferred.

After the visit was over, I returned to my cell. It was time for dinner and that was it for the rest of the day. I started my 9th book, The Oath by Leocart and most likely should finish it sometime tomorrow.

Each day before the guards call us for breakfast, the “trustees” are called out of their cells by the PA system which invariably wakes me up. In fact all through the long night, there are sounds that come from the same PA system and always wakes me up with a startle. I noticed that my cellmate doesn’t wake up with these noises so I asked him about it and he told me to give it time and I would get used to it. Maybe this will happen, but for now if I sleep longer than 2 ½ hours it is rare. This doesn’t mean I am not getting enough sleep, it just means I can only sleep 2 ½ hours at a time. I am not exerting myself in any way and although I am not sleeping, there is a great deal of resting during the day.

Speaking of exerting myself, I have made a concerted effort to get up every morning and do at least 300 pushups and 300 sit-ups before breakfast. I have been faithful everyday and also throughout the day I add another 300 pushups and 300 sit-ups. At the very least I am getting some type of exercise and I also try to walk (back and forth) for an hour each day. It’s not Gold’s Gym, but it should suffice for the time being.

Sunday is another visiting day and true I had one visitor. The visit was from my great sponsor and his wife. This was the first time I saw him since the fateful day, 2 ½ weeks ago. It was great to see the both of them. We had a wonderful visit and the 50 minutes flew by. I am proud to say I love this man because he is all heart and has given me so much over these past 17 months. He was in a very similar situation 16 years ago than I am in now. He has survived and I can only hope to be half as successful. He has given me so much hope and optimism. Even though we cannot speak on a daily basis, I think of him everyday and all the things he has said. With people like him behind me I will make it and life will continue to get better.

These visits are so welcome and certainly needed. It not only breaks up the day, but it connects me back to the world I come from. In here there are times which are very difficult. However, by being able to talk with my wife most days, the letters I receive and write, and the visits that I get, make this horrible situation tolerable. If someone told me (by the way, someone did) when I first started gambling that I would end up in a place like this, I would have said (and I did) they were crazy but they were 100% correct. Here I am and I must make the best of everything, get through these next few years, start my life over the right way and cherish each moment with my family.

The old psychological adages of HALT – never get too hungry, angry, lonely, or tired does not apply to a place like this. From an external source, it must come from within me. The hunger is something I work with and I try to ensure I am getting the necessary vitamins and minerals each day. The anger is something I must be mindful of because I have no one to be angry with except myself which I try to work on each day. The lonely part is rather difficult, but through the telephone calls, letters, and visits, the loneliness subsides a bit. Finally, the tired is more of lethargy because there really is nothing to do. I try to stay busy by reading and writing, but I long for the days where I am physically tired and sleep longer than 2 ½ hours.

Yes, it is a struggle but one I will endure one day at a time. I have to keep reminding myself two years is not that long. I remember back two years and I remember I was right in the thick of this madness. I am so glad those days are gone and I look forward to only serenity.

Sunday evening we were able to get out of our cells for a longer period of time. I guess the guards were trying to make up for us not being able to get out last evening. This makes the night more tolerable because there is enough light to read at this time in the common area as opposed to no light at all in my cell. Yes, I took advantage of this light and finished my 9th book The Oath. It was very good – a medical, legal, murder mystery. This was one of the better ones I have read.

Monday, 5 am came just like the previous 20 days and I did my 300 pushups and 300 sit-ups before my biggest meal of the day – breakfast. Normally, my cellmate does not get up for breakfast which means I am able to eat his tray of food. The only time I care about this is at breakfast because I actually look forward to the cereal which was Rice Krispies this morning, fruit – pears, and biscuits. I quickly give away my cellmate’s and my 2 hard-boiled eggs to the first person I see. This makes somebody very happy and it immediately makes me happy as well because the eggs are out of my sight! I cannot finish two trays of the breakfast food in the allotted time of 15 minutes so I concentrate on eating my cereal. I cannot bring the cereal back to my cell but if I don’t finish the fruit or biscuits, I can always bring that back to eat at a later time.

I cannot talk to anyone during breakfast because I am busy eating two bowls of cereal. As I mentioned, we have 15 minutes to eat but we really only have 7 or 8 minutes by the time we get our trays. Time is of the essence and I need all the calories I can get. There is not time for small talk of any kind during breakfast.

As I was eating my breakfast, I noticed two of the people seated at the table had special meals. Actually I noticed this a week or two ago and today I thought I would finally apply for one of these special meals. I had no idea I would be here this long (it is going on 3 weeks) and didn’t want to “rock the boat” so to speak, by requesting a special meal. But I thought I have been patient enough and I have no idea how long I would be here.

In order to request a special meal, an inmate (me) must fill out a “kite”. A “kite” is a request submitted by an inmate on various matters.

This would be my first “kite” and hopefully my only one because I want to fly under the radar as much as possible. I started my 10th book The Summons by John Grisham this morning, but I decided to put it down for a few minutes while I composed my “kite”. I noticed the other special meals were either non-dairy or diabetic. I did not see any non-dairy vegetarian meals, but I thought if they could prepare the diabetic and non-dairy meals ~ why not a non-dairy vegetarian meal.
I composed what I thought to be a clear and concise one page description of my request for the special meal. I wanted the request to be non-invasive as possible because the last thing I want to do is bring attention to myself. Also, in the “kite” was a respectful request for a multi-vitamin because I am fairly sure I am not getting enough vitamins in my diet. I wrote the one page “kite” and dropped it into the slot. It will take about one day for someone to get back to me.

The rest of Monday was uneventful and much like every other day. I received two letters – one from my wonderful, younger but wiser sister and one from my sponsor. This is the second letter from her and it contained pictures of her trip to NJ. She was kind enough to send a picture with all seven of the great-grandchildren with their great-grandmother – along with several other pictures of my daughter and son with their cousins. My sister is so thoughtful. I was very happy to receive the letter and the pictures.

This is my sponsor’s third letter and he too is considerate. Even though he visited yesterday, he composed a letter a few days earlier. He informed me of the comings and goings of the world news along with pertinent GA news. This is a great link to the world outside these four walls. I, of course, read both letters in the relative dark and after I finished and went to bed with a smile on my face knowing how much love there is in my life.

Tuesday (which is today as I am writing this) came with the call to the trustees to prepare for breakfast. I got out of my bunk and did my push-ups and sit-ups while waiting to be called to breakfast. Once again, my cellmate did not come to breakfast so I had two servings of bran flakes along with three apples (someone was kind enough to give me theirs). I came back to the cell where it was still dark so I couldn’t finish my book. I brushed my teeth and climbed back into my bunk. For some reason, I am able to sleep between 6:30 am and 9:00 am with minimal interruption; only the “pillcall” at 7:00 am woke me. This is usually the case each morning and today was no exception.

Just when I started to get into what seemed like a deep sleep, my name boomed over the intercom to come out of my cell. At first, I was a bit startled and thought maybe today was the day I get transferred. However, those thoughts quickly dissolved when I saw two other inmates. I asked them where they were going and they told me they were going to see the doctor. I remembered my “kite” from yesterday and it was addressed to the physician so I too was on the way to see the doctor.

Fortunately for me, I was the first one in line and the first one to see him. I went into his office and he had five other files scattered about his desk. He asked me my name for a second time while he looked at the files on his desk. I looked down and saw the hand written “kite” in his basket. I pointed to the letter and told the doctor that it was mine. He quickly picked up the piece of paper and asked me if I expected him to read the kite. When he said this I knew it would be an uphill battle. I told him very unassumingly that I had hoped he would read it but I will paraphrase it for him.

I went on to tell him I was requesting a special meal of a non-dairy vegetarian. He asked me if I was lactose intolerant and I did not want to lie. I told him that I wasn’t, but my diet has consisted of being a non-dairy vegetarian for the past 16 years and I didn’t know what type of an effect it would have if I deviated from this. He said he could only prescribe a non-dairy diet if I were lactose intolerant or if I had problems from eating the current diet. I asked about the vegetarian part and he told me to pick out the meat. I then respectfully asked if I could get a multi-vitamin and to this he asked if I had cirrhosis of the liver. I replied, “not yet” which brought a rye smile to his face. He went on to tell me he could only prescribe the vitamin if I had something wrong with me. Apparently, medical care in a place (jail) like this is of the reactive nature as opposed to the preventative nature. I was denied both my requests.

I didn’t make a fuss about the denial; I respectfully thanked the doctor and went back to my cell. I am here only a short time and I will make do with what I have been doing in terms of nutrition. I eat enough fruits and grains throughout the day so I should be okay for the time being. Also, I have found some items in the commissary form I can order which will give me some protein in my diet. These are not the best in terms of nutrition, but they are certainly better than the alternatives.

I have ordered rice-instant, no need to boil the water, just add hot water (kind of like the rice on Survivor) peanut butter, and peanuts. As I said, it is not the best, but it is some type of nutrition and calories. Again, it is only temporary and I have been assured the food choices get better as I get to State Prison.

After leaving the doctor’s office, I found out later in the day from a fellow inmate that the cost for a doctor’s visit is $3.00. I guess it is part of the inmate’s health plan. At least I have a health plan. Since my termination last year, I have been without. I guess there is some good to come out of all this ~ just kidding!

I made it back to my cell and finished the 10th book The Summons by John Grisham. Which by the way, I had started several years ago but never finished. In this book he writes about gambling, stealing, and addiction. In spite of all those things, I found the book quite uninteresting. I kept waiting for a fast-paced finish which never happened. I am a big John Grisham fan but this (in my opinion) was not one of his best books.

The search is on for my 11th book and it doesn’t matter what it is about, I will read it. I was informed today that I will be here for at least another week – maybe two – because my paperwork has not been processed. Oh well, all good things come to those who wait and I am waiting patiently.


PS
Paul has been transferred to Riverside yesterday, August 8th and released to the "Intake Reception Center" on the 10th of August. We do not know for sure where he will be taken.