Since I was down in Ventura for Sean’s birthday on Monday, I took Tuesday off to drive back up to Morro Bay.  So when I returned to the prison this morning, I was just starting my work week.  The moment I opened the door to my office, I knew from the blinking red light on my phone that I had voice mail.  (Two of them were from different psychologists informing me that they were each sending a new patient to my caseload.)  I turned on my computer and saw that 70 unread emails arrived after I left on Friday.  Our Interdisciplinary Treatment Team (IDTT) meeting was starting at 8:30 AM, and three of my treatment plans were incomplete.  In my mailbox were three inmate requests addressed to me.  One of them read, “Emergency!!!  I need to talk to my clinitian!”

I was confronted with all this information within ten minutes of setting foot in the building.  I didn’t step foot outside the building again until 3:30 PM, when I had to walk over to another yard for a meeting of a peer review committee to which I’d been assigned.  (Believe me, it wasn’t something I would have voluntarily attended.)

I didn’t sign out and leave work until almost six o’clock.  Luckily, we’re now headed into summer and the sun doesn’t set until 8 PM, so I’m not walking through the prison in the dark.  The nice thing, too, is that I get to come home after a long day and let go of all of it with the setting sun.