That’s what it feels like when you’re dealing with the Department of Corrections. It all seems so silly and unnecessary a lot of the time. There is a severe lack of order, common sense, and generally knowing how to do a decent job when dealing with, well, anything related to the inmates.
I got a call from Jeremy last night, which was a relief because he was late by a day, and when I asked him how he was, he responded with “not good”. Uh oh. I knew I had to automatically go into super wife mode. I don`t like revealing how much setbacks devastate me so I put on my best Starbucks smile and I deal with prison related issues in a joking manner. Self preservation and all that.
He tells me he is in the infirmary and I laugh because I think this cannot possibly get worse at this point, and luckily it hasn’t. He is in the infirmary right now, stuck essentially, because they’ve approved him to transfer and they told him he was getting on a bus Tuesday and pulled him back at the last moment. Why? Who knows. He thinks that they “overbooked” the transfer bus and he will have to wait until the next one, which is in two weeks. I listened calmly and joked that maybe it was all an April Fool prank just to get him to relax, laugh, and lighten the load on his shoulders that I could hear in his voice.
He has sent a “kite”(prison term for note/request) to his caseworker asking what the issue is. For now he is stuck in the infirmary area because they have no more beds in the unit he was previously in. This is actually good because it means they are so hungry for bed space that they are ready to send him to the other prison as soon as possible. More waiting, more silly, stupid waiting. In the meantime he is stuck in a cell with nothing since they have packed up his property for transfer and then didn`t transfer him when they had intended to.
No order, no paperwork to check to see if, “hey maybe we should count the prisoners that will be transferring before we get them ready to transfer”. Nope. Why? That would actually make sense.
I am crossing my fingers that this is a very small bump in the road and that he will be transferred out in another, now, week and a half.