Good morning.
It’s commissary day today and since we are the second unit scheduled to shop, we standby in the unit until the 7am move. Mr. Rivero is in the wheelchair ready to go, and as soon as they call the move we are out and on our way. I have a callout for the physician at 8am in the medical department. Now the dilemma I face, and the questions that run through my mind:
“Do I leave commissary and go to medical at 8am?”
“The physician usually does not arrive on time, should I just wait and go at 9?”
“What do I do with Mr. Rivero, will someone else, hopefully someone responsible wheel him back if I go and don’t return on time, and not expect some form of payment for taking him?”
I also don’t want to miss out on commissary, it’s been two weeks, and a little voice in my head kept saying, “leave it in God’s hands, don’t miss your appointment with the physician, everything will be okay”.
Standing under the roof at the commissary, we wait for our names to be called. It’s nearing 8am and the compound officer comes by and shouts, “Compound is closed, we need everyone to return to their units”.
“Wow is this really happening?” I ask myself. We were not able to purchase yet, so as we head back to the unit, my buddy Mr. Perez is keeping up with our pace, I look towards medical and see several guys already inside, I look over to Mr. Perez and if he will do me the favor of pushing Mr. Rivero back to the unit and he happily accepts, responding, “Yes, no worries” and I step over through the medical doors and take a seat.
8:15am, the physician walks through the double doors and one of the orderlies collects our identifications. Again my mind starts questioning.
“Great, what if I am not called in time and able to get Mr. Rivero and go to commissary?” Once again, I hear myself thinking, “stop, you’ll see me work, leave it in my hands”.
“Valdes!”, the physician calls my name first, I head over to his office where he asks me questions he already SHOULD know the answer to, asks me to weigh myself on his scale, took my vitals, and said we were done. I grabbed my identification, and as soon as I stepped back over to the waiting area, I look outwards and see the guys from our unit going to commissary. I step out of medical and walk against the traffic over to the unit; I have not seen anyone pushing Mr. Rivero. I step into the unit, make a left and behind a group of guys who are walking towards the exit, I see Mr. Rivero opening his wheelchair on his own, with his cane hanging from his arm. “Mr. RIVERO!!!!, vamos, a la co-miseria”. He was so happy to see me, and we were quickly on our way out, passing others walking too slowly, past medical, down the small slope, going the short way around the lake over to the commissary area.
Once again, we wait for our names to be called. Mr. Bethune was called to the window, and seemed to have been struggling with his items and laundry bag, so I head to the window to help him. A few minutes later, Mr. Rivero is called to the window, and as soon as he was done, my name was called. Mr. Rivero sits back into his wheelchair, with his bag of items at his feet, and my bag on top, now my morning workout pushing the heavy bulk on the wheelchair back to the unit.
In the unit, after putting my items away, I notice the rest of the unit returning without any items. Mr. Readon is in that group, luckily one of the compound workers helped wheel him back to the unit. They were not able to purchase, once again the compound was closed and they were sent back.
Mr. Readon: “Eddie, what happened, when can we go back to commissary?”
Me: “I have no idea, what happened? Maybe they will call after lunch, be patient.”
Mr. Readon: “I hope you are right Eddie, I am counting on you!”
“Great” I thought. We wait for lunch, but I am really in no mood of going for the small burger pattie and cold soggy fries as usual. Mr. Rivero only goes to give me his burger, so we both decided to stay in. I make myself a ramen soup with mackerel fish and follow it up with some water. I head up to my case manager’s office to see if there is anything I could help him with; I shred some papers for him, and empty out the shreds, replacing the bag and sweeping around his desk. I head to my room to make a cafecito, and shortly after I hear they call commissary, so I go get Mr. Readon.
Once in his newly provided wheelchair, we are out the door, laundry bag in hand. Mr. Readon was in the hospital eight days with some medical concerns and just returned last night, so I told him he should create a list of items he wants to buy and turn it into the officers at the windows, let them know he just returned from the hospital. He did just that and luckily they were nice enough to sell the items to him. Once they called his name we headed up to the window, and I helped him bag his items, and wheeled him back to the unit.
What a morning it has been of going back and forth, I am both mentally and physically drained, especially with the heat outside. I am going to take a few minutes and read my daily devotionals. “Shaped By God” in the “Our Daily Bread” for today.
“Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand”
[Jeremiah 18:6]
We need to listen to God each and every day. He talks to us, not just by those thoughts we have, but through others in different ways we may not even know it is Him, so we need to open our minds, and our hearts. God has a purpose for each and every one of us, refining us through our very detailed life experiences. We may not see it at the moment, but everything we do has reason, and one day we will look back and say, “Thank you God, I get it, and see it now”.
Time for myself now, as I change into comfortable shorts, and lay in bed with my headphones on listening to the news on low volume, not even focusing on what they are saying, but only trying to ease my mind not listening to the everyone else in the unit, until I slowly doze off.
“COUNT TIME!”, so I am out of bed and standing for the officers to come by and properly count everyone the first round. I put my sneakers on, wear my hat, and grab my gloves and water bottle to try and exercise this evening, skipping out on dinner as I am still a little full from the lunch ramen I made.
I sit in my chair in front of the televisions to wait for the move but it never comes. There is some talk in the Glasshouse of the rec yard not opening this evening. Just my luck! I go back to my room, put my gloves away and my water bottle in my locker. My roommate comes to the room and asks if I would like to eat something, so our anxiety “forced” us to make something. He put together a bag of rice, some pork cracklings, refried beans and we shared a pack of pork, and added some seasoning. What a simple yet delicious little meal.
I take the bowls to wash them over in the sinks of the main kitchen area. Mr. Perez arrives and gifts me a pouch of sour gummy worms. “What is this for?” I ask him. “For the paper you typed for me remember?”, he responds. “Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything”, I tell him. “I appreciate your help, it’s not much”, he says, as I ask him to put it in my pocket because my hands are wet. When I finish I head back to my room to put our things away and head to my chair to share the gummy worms with my roommate while we watch some T.V.
Aquino: “You showered?”
Me: “No, I was washing the bowls, want some gummies?”
Aquino: “I am still full, maybe later”
Me: “Okay, I’ll be back”.
I head to the computer and type part of my journal for today, (as I am doing now), and when my time on the computer runs out, I head back to my chair next to my roommate.
Aquino: “Still haven’t showered?”
Me: “Nope, I was typing my journal but ran out of time in my session. Gummy?”
Aquino: “HAHA, Okay, I’ll have a few.”
What a sugar rush I am having, my goodness. I am back at the computer to finalize my journal for today. Not able to call my parents these past two days as I am down to two minutes until Friday, so thank God I have my email to communicate with them. After this I will be showering and sitting for some television until it is sleep time.
Thank you God for the life you have given me. Thank you Father for always watching over me and taking care of me, even in the worst of situations. Oh Lord, I need your help, I need your forever guidance. Like the song says, “Oh God I’m desperate, down on my knees, send help from heaven, ‘cus that’s what I need”, by Jamie MacDonald. Get me home oh God, allow me the chance to start over and show the world who I truly am. I pray Father God asking that you do with me as you need, “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so am I in Your hand”, mold me oh Lord. In your name I pray, Amen.
Eduardo Luis Valdes
02499-506
March 26, 2025
21:10
