You have to be assertive. Show them you won’t take their mental abuse.
“Hey, Strawberry Shortcake, can I have a taste? Fuck, just looking at you makes me hungry.”
Their words echoed all around me. The ones who weren’t calling out derogatory things were laughing. They were having a good time at my expense. I was nothing but a joke to them.
Be very private about who you are when you’re with the inmates. Don’t talk about your personal life with other staff in front of the inmates. Even simple things, said over time, will paint a very detailed picture. Inmates are always listening. Always.
“Come here and let me tongue fuck your slippery clam, pretty girl.”
Never turn your back on an inmate; don’t let them walk behind you on the way to the blood pressure machine; don’t turn your back as you dispose of sharps, etc.
“Look over here, sweet thing. Look at all this cock I got for you.”
Make sure at least one custody officer is with you at all times: in the infirmary, treatment area, escorting, etc.
If my daddy knew the kind of job I was working, he’d roll over in his grave three times and pop open a beer to soothe his nerves. Not the nurse part, he always knew I wanted to go into nursing, but where I was a nurse was the problem.
The thought of his little girl working in a maximum-security prison full of hardened criminals would kill him if he weren’t already dead. But he was dead. Had been for three years, and I was left to fend for myself.
God rest his sweet soul and bless him.
It was my first day and my nerves were definitely getting the best of me. Of course, it didn’t help that I was locked inside. Watching the bars close behind me every time I moved further into the prison to the infirmary was enough to send me straight into an anxiety attack. It was suffocating in a way. I couldn’t imagine being an inmate and not being able to leave.
When another round of bars closed behind me with a loud bang, I took a deep breath.
I was fresh out of nursing school. I’d done my clinicals for a family practice close to home, taking the temps of children and the blood pressure of the elderly. I was so thrilled to graduate and become a registered nurse. Looking back, I remember how excited I was about the possibility of working the labor and delivery floor at St. Francis Hospital. Bringing new life into the world and holding a newborn life in my hands was my ideal dream.
I was clueless.
Jobs were few and far between. With bills that needed to be paid and student loans that were soon to be knocking on my checkbook, I couldn’t afford to be picky. Instead, I was walking halls full of men who had taken lives—ones with no remorse for their crimes.
I’d accepted a job in the infirmary at Fulton Rhodes Penitentiary, one of the most dangerous prisons on the East Coast.
“Hey, Red, how’s about taking a ride on this hard cock?”
It got worse the more we walked.
“Don’t look them in the eye,” Officer Douglas said from the side of his mouth. Louder, and in a much harsher tone, he snarled to an inmate as we passed by, “Knock it off, Reid. Put your pecker back in your pants or I’m taking your ass to solitary.”
I walked next to him toward the infirmary. Cells lined the halls around me, and the men inside them continued to call out filthy words that made my stomach turn. I knew when I took the job how hard it was going to be, but being spoken to that way wasn’t something I was accustomed to.
Closing my eyes, I swallowed hard before taking a deep breath and schooling my expression. I couldn’t let these men eat me alive on the first day. My daddy didn’t raise me to be a quitter. I’d always been tough as nails, but losing my dad had softened me a bit. I was raw and hurt—afraid of everything that moved—and it wasn’t like me. I’d always been able to handle being roughed up a little, but I was still sickened by the foul things that flew from the mouths of murderers.
Finally, we left the block and the final set of bars closed behind us. When we stepped into the infirmary, I was able to breathe again. The space was empty except for the beds that lined the crisp, white walls. The sharp scent of antiseptic stung my nostrils, but after the pungent odor of the men on the block, the hospital smell was welcomed. I’d never been more thankful to be inside of a germfree environment.
“Here we are,” Officer Douglas said. “Dr. Giles will be with you shortly.”
He backed out of the room with an awkward smile. The bars opened with the loud clicking I knew I needed to get used to, and then closed behind him with a final bang.
I was alone. The room around me haunted me with its bare walls and grey and white shadows of sin. Alone—in a maximum-security prison with murders, rapist, and God only knew what else just outside the room.