Friday, November 7, 2008

That's Not Funny.... That's Sick!!!

Ok, we had one of those moments today. If you weren't one of us and you didn't work where we do, you'd think we were a band of twisted freaks.

Well.... we are, but it comes with the territory.

There's an inmate (you know by now I don't name names) who is very disturbed and spends alot of time in our housing unit. He got placed on suicide watch by the head Pshrink lady today because he was in the cell laughing to himself and muttering strange dark things. We tried to tell her he does this all the time, but she wanted it done, so.... He gets stripped out and put in a camera cell with a kevlar smock and blanket.

Now, this guy has some serious issues, anyway. And the meds they are giving him seem to exacerbate some of those issues a little. The clinical term for it is "Hypersexuality". We tend to call him "Sir Whacksalot". Need I explain? I thought not.

So right after he gets put on watch they call down and say they want him taken to medical for a forced medication injection. Probably haldol or something of the like. I'm not sure. Usually calms them down for a day or two. I happen to glance up at the camera and there he is.... pulling one for the home team. Going to town. Shifting into overdrive. Oiling up the old baseball glove. Shaking hands with Mr. Happy. You get the picture. So did we.

The average "normal" person would go "Jeez!" and find something else to do. Not us. Oh Lord, not us. For some reason, this seemed to be the funniest thing we have all seen in several days and we had more fun adding commentary and bizarre sound effects. It was like a really twisted version of "Mystery Science Theater 3000" without the robots.

We're some really sick people here, sometimes. It's a good thing the Pshrinks don't come down to talk to us. I liken it to battle fatigue or shell shock. After awhile, even the most bizarre things don't seem to affect us the way it would normal people.

I told you once the things that amuse me at work were strange. You didn't believe me, did you?


  1. darn chicken chokers! who's his favorite little rascal? Spanky!

    uhm, okay. i'm having some fun on someone else's behalf.

    jeez darev, i live a sheltered life compared to you all!!!

  2. A little depo prevera will take the wind out of his sock. Have them make it an injectable cocktail.

  3. Sometimes I worry that I'm getting "hardened" by my job (if you'll forgive the horrible pun). Then I back away from it and go home and I'm fine again. I can argue with someone outside the prison and not pepper spray them or slam them to the floor.

    Guy, some of these dudes are on so many medications now that the only real activity they can enjoy is (what's a decorous word) that. And as one of my good friends said "As long as they're jerking themselves off, they aren't trying to jerk us off." It keeps them (and us) occupied and sometimes even entertained.

  4. I worry about MY long-term metal health. At what point did observing all these bizarre and disturbing behaviours quit affecting me to the point where I consider them a routine part of my day and laugh about them? We see things daily that the best fiction writer could never dream up. As I've said before, we literally work in H E L L ! Now, how about that shot of Haldol?

  5. What else can we do but laugh? I think the laughter and the bad jokes are better therapy than anything else could be. It's our mental armor. It lets us know we are seperate from them. If it's really bothering you, then you should go by all means. But we really need level headed guys like you down there. Of course I say that and I'm trying to leave, too. I thinks it's my time to go. Maybe it's yours too.

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