I am served, a small tub of grated cheese, on a plate at lunch time. I politely ask where my bap is, to be told, “We’ve run out.”
Stuart
April – I get COVID and have a terrible headache. I ask for paracetamol. Nurse refuses because her computer is not working.
May – I am served, a small tub of grated cheese, on a plate at lunch time. I politely ask where my bap is, to be told, “We’ve run out.”
June – I walk into the office to see a female officer applying her lipstick.
She stops and asks, “What do you think of that?”
I reply “You should have been a doctor, Miss, you’ve cured me!”
“What was wrong?” she asks.
“I was impotent until I met you, Miss.”
July – Our English teacher rings over to the wing to ask where all her K Wing students are. The officer tells her we have all refused to attend. The reality is that the new officer has forgotten to unlock us.
September – I overhear the screws praying for another lockdown, so they can sit in the office and do nothing for another six months
October – I hear rumours that I am being transferred, even though I am on medical hold at the prison. A nice screw tells me, “Just say you have taken an overdose, then they can’t move you.”
November – One week in my life totally lost, due to the Moderna vaccine nearly killing me!
December – Best Christmas dinner I’ve had for a long time.
January – One of the other prisoners on my wing sets fire to himself and his cell. Halfway through this process he decides it’s not such a good idea. Due to staff shortages, no one answers his calls for ten minutes.
February – I receive a Valentine’s card. I still have no idea who from.
March – I’m waiting in the meds queue, minding my own business, when I hear gates being slammed. I look up to see an officer, running past me, crying and slamming all the gates, having a full on breakdown.