prisoners.

prisoners.

i wonder about them. a lot.

my first patient today in the ortho clinic was a "red suit" prisoner with TWO guards... he had been shot in the hand about a month ago; one finger was completely missing, and the middle finger had had a k-wire (metal pin) put in it surgically to try to keep it straight enough to heal. the bullet had either been removed or had penetrated the hand, but the shards were still present in the flesh.

fridays in ortho are "hand clinic days." so he was here for a check-up with the surgeon.

i go to room #1 to pick up my patient, and am suprised to see two guards with my patient... (usually i see only one guard in ortho.) my eyes automatically dart to the very visible guns on their belts. immediately my mind starts running... what did he do? kill someone? try to escape? i wonder if last time he was here he tried to hurt a nurse. i wonder which facility he's from.

"good morning!" i say to the guards with a smile. "how are you guys?"

"i'm good," one of them answers in a russian accent. he has a bald, shiny round head and a stocky, strong stature. i wonder how long he has been a guard, and for some reason, if he has any children.

"how are you?" he asks.

"i'm very good, thanks!" i say back and smile cheerfully, while continuing to wonder what crimes this prisoner has committed.

"why are you good?" he asks.

"what?"

"what is the reason you are good?" he says, in his thick accent, rather forcefully and direct.

"well... uh... i don't know. it's morning, and nothing bad is happening!" I sputter out, with my cheesy smile. why do i have to be quizzed on my state of mind this early in the morning? what kind of stupid answer did i give? why don' t i know why i am good? is good just the opposite of bad, or more?

my patient shuffles down the hallway awkwardly after me, his feet shackled together and his wrists also handcuffed to each other.

we enter the x-ray room, and i ask my prisoner to have a seat in the chair next to the x-ray table. a guard unlocks his handcuffs, leaving one cuff still attached to his left wrist.

i wonder what he did?

is he looking at me? did he rape anybody? who shot him? and his face looks weird... must have had facial reconstructive surgery... those glasses are big and ugly, i bet he killed a few people, definitely women, definitely after stalking them and raping them. why are the fucking guards walking back behind my glass, i can't even see them!! what if he grabs my neck and starts choking me right here? how long will it take for them to notice that i'm dead? i wonder how long it would take for him to kill me? i wonder where he went to high school. is he even from washington? maybe he's committed other crimes in other states. i wonder what kind of evil, plotting thoughts he is having right now. he must be thinking really bad things, every second!! very very bad things. i wonder if he has any regular thoughts, or if they are all evil criminal thoughts. what kind of thoughts do criminals have on a daily basis? do they always think about hurting someone? or does he just think about being hungry and the weather outside and that sort of thing? i wonder if he reads books? i wonder if he is... anything like me --

i have him place his badly disfigured hand on a small 8x10 x-ray plate. "ok, now try to get your hand as flat as you can... i know you have wires sticking out of it, but just try to get it as flat as you can, ok?" what an ugly looking hand. but at least he still has opposable thumbs. thank evolution that humans have opposable thumbs, think how hard life would be without thumbs!

i take all 3 views of his hand, and he sits there quietly, as calm as anybody.

"ok, we're all done!" i say to him, and motion to the guards that we are done. they re-attach his handcuffs and we walk back to room #1.

"thank you!" i say cheerfully. "have a good afternoon."

my mind starts to wander...

what do prisoners think about?

i guess i will never know.

unless i someday end up on the inside