Forty Seventh Visit to Taft

I was going to write about holiday time and the way inmates handle a traditionally family time. However, something came up over the weekend that I will tell you about this week, and next week I'll get back to talking about holidays.

Friday at Taft was a great day. The room is decorated for Christmas. A tree in the corner with presents, and lights around the room. It's funny that they would have presents in the corner when no one there can receive anything but books or magazines, but I guess they want it to look like a typical Christmas tree. We had a wonderful visit. During my time there I got a very strange pain in my neck and arms. It went away within a minute, but it felt strange and I hadn't experienced anything like that before. The next day, Saturday, I spoke with Ron in the afternoon, and he told me he'd call me before he went to bed. By 9:45pm I still had not heard from him, so I went to sleep, but kept my phone on.

The next morning, Sunday, I left for the gym at 7:45am. Ron had been trying to call me since Saturday night, and everytime he called the phone went right to voicemail. There was something wrong with my phone, but neither he nor I knew it.

How your mind can play tricks on you. Ron was convinced when I didn't answer after hours of calling, that something was terribly wrong. He thought that possibly something related to the pains I was having on Friday had resulted in my being incapacitated. His frustration was apparent to both my mom and Brian, who he was calling to see if they could get through to me. They couldn't, but they both tried to reassure him that I was ok. When you're incarcerated and can call, but not receive calls, events like this can be frustrating and debilitating. Ron was a wreck, and barely slept Saturday night, not knowing why I wasn't answering the phone. It was the most helpless he has felt in the 11 months he has been at Taft. When I finally spoke to him Sunday morning, the relief in his voice was so noticable. He was so happy to hear my voice he was crying. I felt terrible that he had to endure that stress, and I didn't even know it. My phone was able to make calls, but not receive calls, so I didn't have any idea he had called.

This is an example of the frustrations that inmates must endure. It doesn't sound like much, but when you're unable to communicate with the outside world, your mind goes wild and you always imagine the worst. I will quote Ron's therapist Muriel, who always said, "Most of the negative things you imagine might happen never come to pass." She is right.

The phone is fixed. I had to update my roaming capabilities. I wasn't getting a strong signal Saturday night. I'm also taking another precaution so that Ron never has to endure this anxiety again. I am giving him my neighbor's phone number, so that if he can't get in touch with me he can call my neighbor and she can come check on me. I probably should have done this before.

A happy ending, but stress and anxiety for Ron that was really not necessary. I hope this is the last stressful night Ron has. After all, we've only got 25 weeks to go!