Mug Shot

My criminal intent. To spend three months in Bexar County Jail, waking first in a hospital bed with a dull ache that I realized too soon would be much much more. The paper shirt I am wearing was given to me from the hospital, where I was in a secure unit with around the clock surveillence from the Sherriff's Dept. Sometimes they would give me my daily phone call, at other times they would refuse it for no reason. I was laid out most days in the hospital bed sleeping off the pain. At one point I did have another patient in the room who preferred getting himself released from the hospital to rush to his stay in the county jail. I had better food there in the hospital, although I was definitely misled by this gentleman. I also had a view out a window. In any case, I was not in a hurry to be away from the medical treatment I felt I needed to help manage my pain and get me walking again.

I had a group of nurses tending to me. One of which was particularly bad. Her name escapes me now, but she seemed to have the notorious vengeful attitude that makes the nurses of her ability become the stars like the Nurse Ratchett's. She was evil and vindictive, and would do anything to not respond to my needs. She, like the orthopedic doctor who reset my leg, were pleased to hear that I was in pain. When I was in need of something, it had to be a big complaint, and something for which I could report her negligence if I needed her to respond. If it was something like needing to go to the bathroom or needing a shower or needing more painkillers, she happily dismissed my requests as superfluous.

Another nurse, a gentleman, was the best I could ever come across. He helped me sponge bath, and when I showed him the puncture on my rear end, which by then had gone days without treatment, he tended to it and reported it. He appeared as he said he would, and he was entirely helpful in managing my pain.

Other nurses may have been affable, and helpful, but inconsistent in their service. I did seem to get my meal trays on time after the initial waiting of two days at first. Supposedly the first day was to make sure their was no internal damage, and the second day a bonus.

The cast maker was of the highest quality individual, but that comes a month later. I rush ahead.

After the traumatic lesson of the orthopedic who reset my leg occurred, I held onto the dignity I felt I could muster, as he said, "well, I know I'm going to sleep well tonight." I clutched onto my pillow and choked back the extremem pain I was still feeling, and trying to avoid feeling the exhaustion from enduring so much pain from letting me fall asleep again, which it eventually did.