Posts Tagged ‘cancer’


I’m at the Milwaukee Secure Detention Facility (MSDF), an institution in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS), participating in the Earned Release Program (ERP). I got called out to the guard station right after the first count, and right before breakfast.  The guard told me to hurry up and eat because they were coming to take me for some reason.  I suspected I was having another PET scan to verify my cancer remains in remission. I asked the guard if he was sure he wanted me to eat as I knew they needed my stomach empty.  He said he didn’t know and put it up for me.  They came and got me and again asked me if I’d eaten.  Again I told them I shouldn’t.  They were suppose to tell me the previous evening but fortunately I hadn’t ate a thing after 8 pm.  The short black guard who strip searched me in a cage verified I should not eat was friendly enough.  Unlike last time, I had to wear the chains and bracelets which nicely accessorized my banana yellow uniform.  And of course, we seem to always pick the best weather days for my trips.  Today was the coldest of the winter so far.  It was 0 degrees and 14 below wind-chill.  It was good to see the outside world even if it had frozen.  We took Highway 16W and stopped at the PDQ gas station in Hartland, WI – less than a mile from my former home, family still lives and where I used to stop for gas and cigarettes on or on my way back to or from work.  It felt like a moment from the Twilight Zone TV show.  There was enough frost on the windows to obscure their view in the van which I was grateful for.  The ride there was cold, as the guards kept turning the heat down but it was my fault for not speaking up.  I have a habit of doing that. They took all sorts of side roads doing what many guards do – milking the clock.  When we got there I got to go to the prison at UW Madison.  No minimum lockup this time.  It was ok though as I saw guys I knew from Jackson Correctional Institution (JCI), where I was March through August of this year.  Things are the same there except for the large amounts of snow fallen on the LaCrosse area.  There are many horror stories from the medical cases of how they are being handled I was told about but I’m not going to repeat what I don’t have any way of documenting.  I am sorry to those looking for it, if that disappoints you.  But you know you’ve been around awhile when hospital staff greet you by name.  It was uneventful from there.  But the bag lunch I used to despise was better and more filling than the food at MSDF.  When I got back I got strip searched again and returned to my unit.  They actually saved my breakfast tray so I ate my cocoa roos (like cocoa puffs), and joined my group working on yesterday’s assignments.  But it occurred to me I need to stop thinking of this area as home to successfully move on.  But just where will home be?


I’m at the Milwaukee Secure Detention Facility (MSDF), an institution in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS), participating in the Earned Release Program (ERP).  Fridays are a short day in the ERP program here.  They have something called “Community” at 10 am and then they’re done for the day.  Everyone was already seated when someone came and got me to join which surprised me since I don’t start ERP until December 13th.  They went through an airing of unit grievances (there were none) and housekeeping issues (there were some).  It was at this point that I was called to the guard desk and told to get ready to go to Heath Services Unit (HSU).  They have something where an inmate picks a quote and they explain why they picked it.  The quote was “Bad things happen in life so that someday something good can come.”  It was put on a big poster and hung from the top tier.  Then the inmate coming up with the quote talked of why he picked that quote.  The group was then to provide comments on what the quote meant to them.  The social worker running the group reminded them that if we didn’t participate enough she would hand out paper and make us all write something down.  Personally, I would have preferred that but that’s just me.  Then the inmate assigned the word of the day or week, I’m not sure which.  The word was “oppressed” with the quote “difficult to bear substance abuse made my life aggressive”, which was placed on a white poster on the upper tier next to the other one.  Then my cellmate, Brian Whalen, had been assigned to read a current events article and discuss it with comments following.  He did well I thought.  Overall, the comments being made felt forced to me but I could be wrong.  At that point a female guard showed up to escort me and another inmate to HSU.  We got on an elevator (another difference of any prison I’ve seen – there were no elevators) and we had to face the wall away from the guard sharing space with carts of food trays being delivered for lunch.  I go to our next stop where we were directed to stand with our backs to the wall while another inmate joined us and we continued on.  We got to HSU which has a hall for a waiting room with the wall lined by chairs then inside a desk manned by a guard.  He called out names to go in.  I was seated next to a man of 65 with a long white beard who couldn’t stop jabbering.  He was on paper for his 5th DUI and was here for rule violations (using pot) and his parole officer (PO) was trying to revoke him.  A lot of the other inmates were discussing Act 28 and the mistaken idea that once they got to Dodge Correctional Institution (DCI) the time they thought they’d be saving under Act 28 would be taken right off the top of their sentence. It reminded me much of my time in Waukesha County Jail (WCJ) where inmates would cling to such fairy tales out of sense of desperation and looking for a reason to hope.  I tried to interject and correct the information but one inmate in particular would have none of it, insisting I was wrong.  I let it go.  I understand the need to hold onto hope.  I think false hope actually helped me at times.  Weird, isn’t it?  Mercifully, I got called to see the doctor.  He was of Indian descent and spoke good English.  I waited 10 minutes before a word was said while he reviewed my file.  He then let me know another PET scan would be scheduled soon to make sure the cancer had not returned and made sure I was still on my antiviral.  I returned to my seat in the hall to await transport back to my unit.  The man I was next to had grown impatient and started repeatedly asking when he’d be seen because he didn’t want to miss lunch.  The guard who brought me to HSU returned to take me back but the guard at the desk lost patience and told her to take him back too without being seen.  He knew what that meant.  He was getting a major conduct report for being disruptive.  The entire way back he argued with this guard almost assuming an intimidating stance towards her.  She argued back which was pointless with this guy.  Finally, I got back to my unit having a cold pizza burger for lunch and very glad I’m not that loud inmate and looking forward to getting this ERP program going week after next. 


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  I’ll be on my way to Milwaukee Secure Detention Facility (MSDF) on Monday to begin my ERP program. Some of you have emailed questions to be answered.  Most are confidential and specific to your situation but some might interest others and are more general so I’ll answer them here.

Question:  What will happen to the blog when you are released?

Answer:    The blog will continue.  The focus will change to what life is like on parole as some of the biggest battles and such deal with staying out of prison.  My sponsors and I occasionally talk about whether or not what we’re doing here should have exposure elsewhere and how to accomplish that but none of us really know as this concept and how we do it isn’t all that common.  Those of you who’ve made suggestions and helped promote the blog, please know I’m very grateful and the sponsors work on your suggestions as time permits.  So please keep them coming!    

 

Question:  Do you think going to prison was a good thing for you?  Has it helped with the issues that got you there?

Answer:    I think something had to happen, something had to stop the insanity that was going on.  I deserved to go to prison.  As far as helping with my issues, that work was done by me as you’ve watched over the last 19 months.  Up till now, as I’ve said before, it’s up to me to get better, not the institutions or guards. 

 

Question:  What would have been the length of time needed for you to “get it”?

Answer:    Do you feel I’ve “gotten it”?  I feel I “get it” more and more everyday.  Do I feel ready now to go out there?  Yes!  But God will open that door when its time in spite of any whining I might or you might hear me do.

 

Question:  Did prison save your life?

Answer:    No.  I was suicidal when arrested and it wasn’t well into January of this past year (2010) my resolve and faith was renewed and I made a commitment to stay alive.  Dang it, with my background, cancer, teenage life, battle with mental illness, going to prison and such I feel like there’s a plan out there for me to do something.  If not, I should’ve been dead long ago.

 

Question:  What are you in prison for and what were the circumstances surrounding your crime?

Answer:    I am in prison for my fifth and sixth drunk driving offenses.  In 1995 I had 3 arrests in one year as all I did was party.  As the years went by, the problems described here got worse and worse.  But even as I continued to drink more and more, I kept on improving professionally. There were long periods of sobriety but as things at home and work escalated, I would go “off the deep end”.  I would come out of it, vow to do better, and then would be ok for awhile.  My fifth offense came when I tried to track my step-daughter down who had gone missing and I tried to calm down by drinking.  While out on bail for that, my sixth offense was my suicide attempt where i combined alcohol and seroquel and was determined to drive into a semi on the highway so it would appear as an accident and my family would get my life insurance.  I passed out before I got to the highway.  Obviously, I’ve summarized a great deal here and haven’t gone into great detail on the mental health issues.  But know this:  It was wrong and I deserve to be here because I didn’t seek help when I knew I had to and couldn’t do it on my own.  My pride prevented me from doing so and as a result I lost everything.  That, in a very brief nutshell, is the answer to your question.


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  Happy Thanksgiving to all of you reading this!  It’s November 25, 2010 as I write this.  I realize by the time you read this it will be probably closer to Christmas than Thanksgiving.  Such is the nature of this blog – the delay is intentional.  But I want to take this opportunity to thank those of you who have read this blog, many of you who have shared and/or expressed support via comment or email and to those of you who have someone inside whom you love and care about and possibly this blog has somehow helped you.  I thank you for not abandoning them, even though this separation is the toughest battle your relationship has endured.  Nobody but you knows how much you silently suffer.  Special thanks goes to Rebecca, Steve and Jill who have followed me almost since my first day, giving encouragement to me and giving a voice to those who aren’t able to be heard.  You all have put into practice the words of the Sermon on the Mount.  Another special thank you to Dr. Rachel Cook, my oncologist at University Hospital who was an awesome advocate for me, very patient, and expertly defeated my cancer. I also thank the few of my friends I had prior to prison who have not forgotten me.  I will always remember you and all I’ve thanked the rest of my life.  This blog and all of you have far helped me more than I have gotten from you, trust me on this. My biggest thank you goes to the sponsors of this blog who have tirelessly typed up the chicken scratch of my handwriting, managed this blog with expertise and dedication, in a pinch have helped me, and even provided a newspaper subscription. Quite frankly, none of this is possible without you and words aren’t adequate to express the amount of gratitude owed to you. Many of you that got involved hadn’t even known or worked with me previously.  That’s simply just awesome!  So thank you!  Finally, I thank God!  It was one year ago this week that my cancer was diagnosed.  It was the culmination of the absolute worst year of my adult life.  Where the loss of my wife, family, career, friends, music and finally my health were realized and just when it seemed it couldn’t get any worse, the isolation and despair of those days at Dodge Correctional Institution of early 2010 occurred.  It seemed you (God) had completely deserted me.  But it became clear that I had deserted him (God), refusing because of my silly pride and being concerned with material things and people I couldn’t control, had refused to seek help to stop the bleeding of my heart, mind and soul.  But you (God) were always there waiting for me to learn that simple yet difficult lesson.  The lesson is I don’t have the answers and I must surrender on a daily basis as I move forward.  This is 1 lesson I’ll continue to learn for the rest of my life.


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  The Green Bay Packers beat the stuffing out of the Minnesota Vikings 31-3.  Normally its a real loud environment around here on game day but it was so bad nobody  had anything to say.  It appears that I’m no longer part of the worship team since I got off bunk confinement.  I haven’t been approached about it for the last two weeks.  I’m okay with that.  If you were following along you understand why.  Oh and if you were wondering, saddlebags and Bill  “Made up”.  That’s Bills words, not mine.  I just didn’t want to know anything beyond that so you fill in the blanks!  But its been a relatively quiet weekend.  Normally early Monday morning I’ll wake up real early and do my laundry, especially since we now only have one washer and dryer to serve 200 plus inmates thanks to an inmate putting a bar of soap in the washer instead of the laundry soap we’re supposed to purchase.  But as luck would have it I walked by the washer around 7 pm and saw it was available so I hurried and got to it before others did.  The downside is I had to hang around the dayroom instead of hanging out by my bunk and watching TV like I like to at night.  Many saw my departure from routine and came up to me to talk.  We get used to each others routines.  Most of the conversation revolved around the game and why I was in the dayroom at that hour.  But Paul came by to chat.  He’s getting out next month and is having a particularly hard time. They didn’t offer him a job while he was here until the very end, has no money saved up and as a result must live in housing called a transitional living placement (TLP) with other parolees for 60-90 days.  Those in such placements often must wear electronic monitoring ankle bracelets which Paul doesn’t want to do.  In addition, prior to your release you get the “rules” your parole officer (PO) has determined you must live by.  Some are standard, but then after those are listed the PO lists rules specific to you.  You’re suppose to sign you rules prior to release from prison.  The problem here is that the PO listed as a rule that he must agree to any kind of treatment or counseling the PO believes is appropriate.  Paul felt the rule was too vague and wouldn’t agree to it.  Ms. Greer tried to arrange a phone conference which resulted in him hanging up on the PO.  He’s now in the process of filling out paperwork to get a new PO.  Paul’s problems have always gone back to his anger, even when I knew him in the group home 25 years before.  He doesn’t want the PO to have so much power over him as she could order him to complete any kind of treatment they want he reasons.  It surprises me as this is the 4th time in prison.  I’ve heard they have life or death power over you so I wonder why he’s fighting the PO so much.  He should know this.  I do know he’s really against any kind of anger management.  He had lost his mom to cancer back when I knew him as a kid and that the aunt that cared for him since had also died.  He’s all alone.  People like him, I get them.  I tried explaining since the beginning of all this his life has been a series of tumbling dominoes where though responsible for his actions, the likelihood of bad decisions being made continued to escalate as each domino fell.  The weight of the past dominoes that had fallen were such to make impossible for the current domino to stand on its own without a lot of intervention and change.  Paul indicated he “totally understood” what I was saying, but I got the sense he just wasn’t ready to trust this PO because they may make decisions that might force him to face things he was afraid to.  Again, I get that.  It’s a rebellion born of fear that resembles defiance.  I see that.  Will his PO?  For now, at this point, I’m not that hopeful he is going to make it when he gets out.


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  As you might recall, I was initially diagnosed and treated for cancer while I was at the Waukesha County Jail.  Since I’ve been in prison, Waukesha Community Hospital sent me bills and now Waukesha County Collections is coming after me.  My power of attorney (POA) has been working to resolve this as it’s our understanding that you’re not responsible for medical bills while in custody.  I decided to see if anyone here would have any ideas on what to do.  I have little faith in anyone I’ve met in the WPS so far to show initiative other than the psychiatrist here but some of you readers suggested I do so I gave it a shot.  I sent a request to Ms. Greer, the social worker, advising her of the situation.  She called me into her office and stated she’d never seen a county do this before and wanted to see the paperwork leaving the impression she was going to look into it.  I was floored.  She has a fairly good reputation among the inmates but I hadn’t realistically expected an ally to be created.  She told me to submit an information request to Greer advising her to do so.  The entire next day went with no response.  Greer almost always responds to such requests the same day, I’m told.  I wrote another request that night.  The next day, I had the last step of my root canal.  I saw something there I hadn’ t seen in a at the other places I’ve been.  For narcotics taken by inmates, not only do they watch you take it, but they crush the medication prior to it being given to the inmates, I’m sure to prevent inmates from cheeking the meds to give to others or hoard them.  The last step of the root canal was uneventful.  Basically it got filled in.  They declined to do the other needed work.  I understood that. They’ve got an 8 month backlog of people needing dental work at FMCI.  I was told the Department of Corrections (DOC) is trying to make a dental waiting list that isn’t dependent on what facility you’re in.  Sounds like a good idea to me.  After I got back to my unit, there was a response to my second information request to Ms. Greer.  It said “Let me know if there is anything else you need from me re: this”.  I’m thinking to myself what the heck?  I can easily understand why some inmates just give up when trying to handle things.  They are without a lot of tools being on the inside and then they get frustrated making the effort to resources available to them.  If I hadn’t been writing this I might have given up too.  But tonight I’ll submit another information request conveying my understanding of what Ms. Greer wanted and going to do.  No sense in giving up on her as I really don’t think she is trying to blow me off. 


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  I was notified the night before that I would be taking a medical trip the following day.  It was a far better way than last time when I found out a few minutes before the trip that I was going.  I could swear they read this entry because I was notified 3 more times before the trip this time.  It was pretty much like last time on the way up there, except the guard wasn’t real talkative.  Today I was in Madison to have the port that had been put in me last November removed.  They had used this port to deliver chemotherapy used to treat cancer as veins have a tendency to blow up. This probably was my worst experience at the University Hospital in Madison.  Up till now, my oncologist, Dr. Rachel Cook, and everyone else has been top notch.  If you ever have cancer, this is the place to go and Dr. Cook is the doctor you want.  But today, students were in charge.  I had an orthopedic resident and was assisted by someone else who was also a student.  They were quite clumsy in applying the local anesthetic, which resulted in some painful moments for your truly as they cut out the port from the left side of my chest.  Once it was done, I went back to the minimum security holding room on 6th floor and there were 2 other inmates there.  In the course of conversation, one inmate revealed he had 88 days to go to release, but he had been diagnosed with the same type of cancer I had, the one difference being he was stage 2 (I had been stage 3).  It was almost surreal listening to him talk about how he was going to get through chemo with no problems (he hadn’t started yet), how he was going to tell the DOC how he should be handled for his placement, and how he believed he would be released early.  The same aura of invincibility I had had was present.  I tried to get him to listen to me.  I explained what it meant to be stage 2.  I explained how important it would be to be in an environment relatively clean as your immune system will be compromised, and how the effects of chemo will be felt more as time goes on.  But I could tell he wasn’t listening.  I have to admit that I was a little envious of him that through the worst of what he is about to go through, he will be with those that love him.  But it happened to me like it was supposed to.  I really believe that.  When it was time to go back to FMCI, I happened to be on a crowded elevator, where there were 2 little girls.  I have always been a guy young kids could connect with, and they quickly engaged me in a conversation about how funny someone else looked.  They didn’t care I was an inmate.  I was smiling when they got off the elevator. My happiness was muted a bit when I saw their parent pull the girls closer to them as they walked.  I didn’t let it bother me though.  I certainly understand the parental impulse, to protect them from the guy dressed in green.  After I returned to FMCI, in mail call that night, was a bill from Waukesha County for the time I was treated prior to coming to prison which wasn’t suppose to happen.  One of my sponsors carries my Power of Attorney (POA) which I’m grateful for, and I turned it over to them via mail.  It was a full day, with more good than bad.


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  I mentioned before that a scan had detected an abscessed tooth.  After a week had gone by and a little encouragement from a sponsor not to let this situation be ignored, I wrote a request to Health Services advising them of the referral from my oncologist, Rachel Cook, of the University Hospital in Madison, made to them. Generally it takes the Health Services some time to get around to reviewing what the doctor wrote unless they get pushed.   I also let them know I had other dental issues to be addressed.  I got up at 5 am as usual and saw my name on the list to go to HSU after count at 8 am.  Paul and 2 others also came along who had dental appointments.  We had to go over to the medium side but once out the gate we were told to wait for another inmate.  Twenty minutes later, we’re still waiting and everyone’s annoyed.  Finally, we’re on our way.  I got called in first and the dental assistant informed me I would be having a root canal performed.  It will take 3 visits.  Today they’d “file it down and put antibiotics in there”. I don’t like dentists and I’ve heard bad things about root canals.  The dentist appeared, a man in his sixties, and asked me if I wanted the tooth pulled or do a root canal.  No, I don’t want it pulled!  They numbed me up without incident and he did what he was supposed to, I guess.  I went back to the bullpen (waiting room) and awaited the others to finish.  The last words of the dentist were I’d experience some discomfort and you should “just handle it”.  I laughed to myself.  Dentists in the real world don’t talk like that but they mean the same.  They just word it nicer!  The next part is in 2 weeks.  When everyone was done we stopped at Property, picked up 2 more inmates and their property who were transferring to the minimum side, which took at least half an hour.   Once I got back, everyone asked what was going on and when I told them a root canal, they reacted like it was so painful.  So far, I don’t get it.  Maybe I will come to pay for my presumptuous attitude over the next couple of appointments!  I am in pain but its tolerable.  At least something fulfilling (no pun intended – wait, yeah that was intentional :)) will come out of my time at FMCI.  In case you were wondering, this process won’t cost me anything.  Normally, it would have cost me $7.50 co-pay out of my funds here but because it was a referral from my oncologist, I wasn’t.  The other dental work I need I will get charged the co-pay.  I’m sure many of you wish all you had was a $7.50 co-pay for dental work but as I’ve noted before inmates make very little money – forty cents an hour at most before I came to FMCI.  I’ve never been allowed to work, first because of the illness and now due to my temp status.  But I’m grateful for the treatment for cancer and medical care.  Had I not been incarcerated, would I still have gotten treatment in time, especially with the aversion to doctors I have?  There’s no way to know for sure.  But I’m grateful for the medical care, the time and expense involved to the Department of Corrections (DOC) and the taxpayers of Wisconsin.  Thank you very much.


I’m at the Fox Lake Minimum Correctional Institution (FMCI), a facility in the Wisconsin Prison System (WPS).  I told you last time I was promised I’d get my property, things like my TV, books and letters, the next day.  They’re the kind of things that can make your time tolerable.  Of course nothing happened with that the following day.  I asked the blonde female guard to call property to remind them and she wouldn’t.  The following day I went to get the results of my tests at UW Madison.  Everything was still showing no signs of cancer having returned for which I am thankful.  This trip was notable because the guard that took me, brown hair, very tall, about 285 lbs, drove like a maniac there and back.  I was so used to guards who barely drive the speed limit.  To be honest, it was kind of fun.  We saw a late 60’s, early ‘70’s truck driving on a beat rim and he rolled down his window and told the driver!  Just unusual behavior.  When I got back I approached the sergeant on duty and asked him to call property so I can get my stuff.  A guard interrupted my conversation with him.  He is in his mid to late twenties, blonde hair and is thin.  Everyone to a man here agrees he comes off as an arrogant jerk.  I’m calling him Percy because there was a character in the movie “The Green Mile” who expressed and acted on his desires to hurt inmates and others and enjoyed it.  He was self absorbed with a highly developed sense of entitlement.  Who brought out only the bad, if not the worst, in others.  This guard should sue Oliver Stone for basing a character personality on him without permission.  Percy informed me that I’d have to submit an interview request.  He knew full well I’d done that so many times.  I told him this and his reply was that he didn’t care, his hands on his hips and he smiled as he said it.  I replied, my blood pressure rising, asking him if its your intent not to help me at all no matter what.  Percy replied “That’s right.  It’s not my job to help you and I’m not going to”, while pointing his finger at me for emphasis.  I had to get away from the desk quickly as what I wanted to say and do was not a good idea.  I related what happened to the guys at the dayroom table and those who’d been here for awhile nodded.  They also have had similar experiences with Percy.  Fortunately, they called property pick up for other inmates and though I wasn’t on the list I went along.  After all, the property sgt. had been decent to me.  He didn’t remember me until I said my name.  It seems he had arranged for me to get my stuff today but due to my Madison trip it hadn’t been possible.  I was so grateful I hadn’t overreacted to Percy.  Once again, this property sgt. was extremely gracious and classy.  He promised it would be there the next day. 

The following day, I was summoned to HSU where the psychiatrist met with me.  He agreed to take me off the Wellbutrin I’ve been on for 4 years but since they took away the Seroquel, wasn’t very helpful.  I’d already stopped taking the Wellbutrin for a couple of weeks but no one had said anything.  I couldn’t have done that at Jackson Correctional Institution (JCI).  I really wish I could have had this doctor to talk to on a regular basis.  I just felt confident talking to him, I almost told him about this blog.  But I didn’t.  He won’t follow me to Milwaukee Secure Detention Facility (MSDF) for my ERP program.  I got back to my unit and was almost immediately told to get ready to go to property.  I was happy!  I got my boxes back to my bunk and got my TV, radio and such setup.  But there are no backs on the bunks so they are uncomfortable to watch TV on.  Everyone just deals with it.  Of course, not me!  I took my empty boxes and put them against the bars at the top of my bed, putting my back against the boxes.  Many went by and made a comment about how ugly it looked, wondering what I was doing and some telling me to break the boxes down like everyone else.  I just smiled and said nothing.  If you’ve been reading along, you know I can be a little stubborn.  Or is it independent?  The radio reception is lousy here so I took a wire from another inmate, wrapped it around the antenna and hung one end from the corner of my glasses (yes, I’m wearing them) and I got good reception.  At the end of the night I put the box on top of the TV.  So today I have Christian music, NPR, classic rock and Badger football today on my headphones as I’ve written this.  I just keep smiling as people observe me.  The difference between stubborn and independent is the attitude in you that people perceive.  At least I think so.  I’m going to go walk some laps now.  My cell mate isn’t used to me being around so much and I need the exercise.