My last blog post talked about my job in corrections. Well, training in October didn't happen. Actually, I didn't go to my Basic Correctional Officer Training class until December. So I spent 2 months at the prison in my cadet uniform, learning everything I could and watching how things ran.
Training took place in Forsyth for 5 weeks, essentially all of December. My birthday was celebrated at training, turned 25 training to be a CO. I passed the gun range, got my ass kicked in PT, learned to march. It was rough, but I made it. January 10 saw me take my oath of office, accept my badge, and get my shift assignment.
I couldn't love my job more. It honestly feels natural to me to be doing the job.
At the beginning of the week, though, I got my first test. I've been assigned to the Infirmary, watching the Mental Health and Medical inmates. One of them had terminal liver failure, and Monday night she took a turn for the worse. I noticed her behavior was strange, and after she went to bed she was tossing, turning, and moaning in her sleep like she was in pain and couldn't get comfortable.
3AM census count came and I counted all the inmates in the Infirmary, then waited for my supervisor to double count. Less than 10 minutes later he comes in and notices the inmate on the floor face down. She had fallen out of her bed. She was unresponsive and had soiled herself. I assisted Medical in cleaning her up and whatnot, but she was still unresponsive and had to go out to the hospital. Her liver had turned septic, and she had reached the end. Tuesday we learned she was brain dead.
I was commended for handling myself so well during the incident. It honestly didn't occur to me to freak out, I was doing my job. I don't know if it was because of how I handled myself or how I do my job in general, but it was suggested to me that at the first opportunity, I should go for a promotion...