The Jovial Jailer and a Pair of Undies

First time to the "jail" today, which is where they house inmates who have not been sentenced, or are waiting to be transferred elsewhere. The "elsewhere" could be anywhere from the "camp" down the road (think Club Fed) or a maximum security prison (think Not Good).

While the duties of the PA at the Jail are minimal and the learning opportunities scarce, it was good to see a different side of the facility. The prison clinic, where we were last week is akin to any clinic. Inmates come to us. They sit in a waiting room until we call them in. We treat them (or don't) and then they leave, wander off back to their "cellie" (cell mate) and go about their life in prison.

In the Jail, we go to them. First thing in the morning, the PA drags me around to different cells to hand out medication, check blood sugars, and administer insulin to those who require it. We wake some up and they scramble out of bed in their boxer shorts, to come to the giant metal door that we have just swung open. Others are already up, pacing in their cell. 22 hours of lockdown per day, translates to precious minutes outside the tiny cell, on the basketball court, or shopping in the commissary.

The PA is a large, jovial man who laughs with the inmates, remembering little tidbits about each one. He acts like a tour guide, happily pointing out things of interest, maybe hyping things up a little bit to give an edge of excitement. His sense of humor evaporates when a Body Alarm goes off over his radio. The Body Alarm is a staff members lifeline and they wear it on their belt. Pushing it when in danger triggers an immediate and very serious swarm of staff. For about 60 seconds, things got very chaotic. When it went off, we were out in the jail, outnumbered by blue jumpsuits about 40 to 2. The once jolly PA just starts running. Guards are yelling, the PA is yelling, we are all running towards the door. I pause for a second, not knowing if we were running away from trouble or towards trouble. I contemplate the consequence of both. If I am supposed to be running toward trouble, at least I have lots of "my kind" that will be there. If I am supposed to be running away from trouble then I.....then why am I pausing to contemplate this? Keep running!

About 7 of us are crammed up next to the giant steel exit door yelling for it to open. When it opens with a buzz, we rush through it and slam it behind us. It is at this point that we hear "False Alarm" over the radio. And everybody takes a deep breath. I learn that, in fact we were running toward trouble. That's what you do I guess. I knew the anti-climatic False Alarm would be a disappointment to my blog readers (except my mother), so I apologize for that and will end this post on a different note.

We were supposed to do a full History and Physical exam on a man who disrupted a commercial flight, forcing it to make an emergency landing, by wearing women's underwear on his head, among other things. He couldn't make the appointment because he was using the Law Library and the PA didn't want to disrupt his Law Library time. I was trying to figure out what obscure statute he was referencing that pertained to his innocence. Are there legal precedents set for this? Is he planning an appeal that will change the face of improper underwear-wearing flight disruption convictions? I just pictured him perusing the aisles of the Law Library, maybe taking a book back to his desk with one of those little green Law Library lamps on it, all the while with a pair of pink underwear on his head, just knowing that he is going to find that nugget of legal information that will set him free one day.