Well, as a corrections officer, the thought of getting hurt on the job is not a matter of "IF" it'll happen, but more of "WHEN" it'll happen...

WELL, IT HAPPENED!!!

It is 6pm at USP-1 Coleman and I am in the middle of getting my paperwork up to date, getting ready to start shaking down cells; already had shaken down two cells and found a shank and a duffel bag full of "hooch" (homemade brew), so I am in the process of starting my incident report for the weapon and the hooch when I get a call from the Captain (he never calls) RED FLAG RIGHT THERE.

He tells me to stay in my office until compound #1 comes in to shakedown a cell from an inmate that's acting funny (they are watching him through the camera atop the housing block).

I see him and I roll right behind him; we go into a cell and find an inmate that's acting weird (pretty usual); we confiscate a "little black phone book" and we have info that says that he might have a cell phone (unauthorized contraband that's been a problem recently) Let's do the math...

little black book + text number for "RAW SEX" text site = CELLPHONE NEARBY.

We tell the inmate to "strip down" for a search; he refuses; he's starts to eyeball the toilet a lot; so I grab one of their plastic chairs, put it on top of the toilet and I sit on it. (if you were planning to flush whatever you have, guess what? Not with me sitting on it).

So he decides to strip down and he does; however, he's keeping his legs too close and refuses to turn around; obviously, he's "trunking" something (shoving "something" up his rectum); the Captain comes in and things are getting serious. He still refuses to submit for a strip search; he's stalling for time and I know he's trying something stupid, so I stand in front of the door. Now, bear in mind that I am 6'1" and 220 pounds, so I ain't no rookie pushover.

Captain tells me to release the other inmates for chow and I proceed to leave the captain and Compound with the inmate (both the Captain and the Compound officer are big boys and can handle one inmate)... As I am waiting for the slider to open, I suddenly hear a commotion upstairs and signs of a struggle (Oh, here we go...); so I rush out of the Sallyport, moving inmates aside and I see the inmate in the bottom tier (mind you, his cell is on the upper tier) and he's desperately looking for a toilet (probably to flush the cell phone and in the process, destroy the SIM Card in it), but there's one problem...

I am on hot pursuit, behind his butt; so he tries to slam a cell door in my face, but I move out of the way and tackle the moron and we get into a scuffle, we then fall to the floor and as he's slithering off my grasp; the Captain jumps on top of him, grabs him by the neck and I grab his left arm and we both pin him to the ground; Compound see that the cell phone fell off his rectum and fell near the inmate phones, so I get up and try to retrieve it, when... I hear a crack inside of me..

FCUK, MY RIGHT ANKLE GAVE IN!

I am now limping towards the inmate phones and I only see the back plate of the phone; I'm thinking "FCUK! an inmate got it, but lucky for me, one of the older inmates hands it to me and I give it to the Captain.

A G*****N MOTOROLA RAZR PHONE! HOW THE FCUK HE GOT A RAZR PHONE INTO THE COMPLEX?!

Anyways, now I am in pain, limping like a wounded animal; adrenaline's pumping and I scream out of the top of my lungs for all inmates in the block to get inside their cells under a combination of anger and pain; everyone complies and gets into their cells; additional staff rush into the cell block and push all the inmates in...

I think it only took a few seconds for staff to respond, but damn it! It felt like an eternity; medical personnel arrive and see me limping, so they grab a plastic chair and sit me down and start taking my boot off to see my ankle... Oh yeah! Looks like a pickled hog's foot, swollen and turning blue; I wiggle my toes and I still have movement, but damn, it hurts... Can't stand on it, so the Captain orders to get me a wheel chair and they wheel me into the infirmary.

Over and done, right? WRONG! Here's where the saga begins.

the incident occurred at around 6:20pm; it is almost 8:30pm and I am still in the infirmary with a swollen ankle and an ice pack; the medical staff are trying to figure out who will take me to the hospital; after lying in a wheelchair for a long time, I tell the nurse that I will take myself to the hospital; there's an RMC near where I live, so after much give and take from the Captain, I go there and sit in the Emergency Room for an additional hour and a half, my ankle now is throbbing and I am slowly losing mobility on it.

The nurse wheels me into the ER and they take X-Rays and I get a nice pile of paperwork to sign on (including workman's comp paperwork); after they splint my leg and give me a prescription for painkillers; I limp out of the hospital with a pair of metal crutches and get in the car and go to the Walgreens to get my prescription.

Easy, right? Just go and get your painkillers and be done with it, right? WRONG!

I get there (through the drive-thru) and get the stuff, but the Pharmacist has a bit of a problem; it seems that my insurer's (BCBS) contract was bought by CVS, so they can't help me. You kidding me, right?

Lucky for me, they accept the prescription and I end up paying $1.55 for the co-pay (no biggie); I get my prescription, a single vial of painkillers...

"Where's the Ibuprofen? I got that written on my paperwork" I say; "they did not write it on your prescription" the Pharmacist says...

I tell the guy just toss in a bottle of Ibuprofen from the "over the counter" shelf; $6.99 for a bottle of Walgreen brand pills. 200 Mg (not the prescription strength of 600mg that is written in my medical stuff. I pay the stuff and painfully drive out of the drive-thru with only one thing on my mind; get home.

Still with me? Good; here comes the good part.

I decide to stop at a McD's for some food, so I can take my meds with it. A simple 1/4 pounder with cheese and I'll be G2G; I pull into the drive thru and order my food and pay for it; then I get to the 2nd window and wait to get my food; the nice lady in the window tells me to pull over, so she can bring it to me (the line was a bit full); okay, no problem, I can wait. 25 minutes pass by and still no food. I am now in my "GOING TO RIP SOMEBODY'S HEAD OFF" Mode; I am in pain, tired, my uniform trouser was ripped open in the scuffle and my left knee is starting to bother me.

I swing up to the front door of the McD's and limp out of the car with my crutches on; I tell the lady; "Can I have my food, please?" She give me the "OMFG! I totally forgot about you, let me get it now" look and in 30 seconds, I have my food.

I finally get home at around 11pm; from scuffle to home it takes around 5 frigging hours; I am sweating like a hog, my left knee and my right ankle hurt, my uniform trousers are busted and all of this happens on my FRIDAY! Which means, I will be spending my weekend (and probably most of next week) in bed with a busted ankle.
I SHOULD'VE STAYED HOME AND CALLED IN SICK!

Don't worry about being home all weekend. They'll probably call you tomorrow morning and want you to come in and fill out some more paperwork

Quoted: Don't worry about being home all weekend. They'll probably call you tomorrow morning and want you to come in and fill out some more paperwork

More tha likely...

Yeah, it is only a matter of time. The last fight I had (a suspect I chased out of a stolen vehicle) I ended up getting kicked in the face and getting a broken nose. Nothing really makes you feel alive like a couple of swift kicks to the face.

Sounds like you had a pretty rough day.....glad to hear that nothing worse happened, I dont think I could imagine having to pick up a phone that just fell out of somebodys butt..

I've got one. Female gets picked for theft. Took over $1000 in cash from a woman vacationers purse. She is booked in and is in custody for 3 days. The whole time, the investigators are searching her residense and car for the cash. Finally, they come and ask her where the money is, she says she doesn't have it. Well, a rumor comes out of the cell block, that she has it in "her second purse." The county investigators are notififed, and they come with a search warrant, she is given a chance to give it up, or she is going to get worked over by a doctor, and they promise cold hands.

She agrees to give it up, and goes into her cell and retrieves the money under the supervision of a female corrections officer.

They take her down to an interrogation room, where two new investigators, from the city PD (original arresting agency) come to question her about the theft, when they arrive we give them the money sealed in an evidence bag and they request to speak with her in an interrogation room.

The rookie investigator takes the money out of the bag, with his bare hands, and counts it front of her. Then demands that she tell him where she had it hidden, (he must not have known about the search warrant). Immediatley she says "it was in my p*ssy."

I guess he turned green, and ran out of the room to wash his hands.

He was an arrogant ass, who recieved a wake up call. I never laughed so hard in my life.

Gotta love the butt stories. I think anyone that has worked in Corrections for more than a month has at least 1 butt story..... As for the female "cubby-hole" I once saw a cell phone, lighter, crackpipe and 2 packs of cigarettes in a ziploc bag that had come out of one.

Quoted: Gotta love the butt stories. I think anyone that has worked in Corrections for more than a month has at least 1 butt story..... As for the female "cubby-hole" I once saw a cell phone, lighter, crackpipe and 2 packs of cigarettes in a ziploc bag that had come out of one.

I used to find crack in peoples "crack" all the time.  It was a real popular hiding place in the nineties.  Shit, sounds like it still is.  The EMS guys would give me the really thick blue gloves and I'd double them up for the retrieval.