Ow My Achin' Tired Right Arm

That's what happens when you shoot 10 rounds through a .12 gauge shotgun. Yes, I successfully completed my annual firearm qualifications yesterday but instead of just settling for my "passing" mark I of course had to insist on getting the actual score. Ouch, I passed but only by 5 measly points!!! That is hardly the sharpshooting Adela I--and others in the Sheriff's Dept.--used to know and love. I hereby resolve to start getting my ass to the range at least once every couple of months. Also to practice dry-firing at home. Still, it was nice to hear yesterday that I am still "cool" and "sexy" b/c of my beautiful shotgun with scattergun technologies!

I'm so tired today due to yesterday's non-stop activities. So after having spent a couple of hours at the extremely hot, sweaty outdoor range, I rushed home to change into my uniform so Mudflap and I could get to the Mexican Flea Market asap. Where I almost found out "What It Feels Like" to get your ass kicked by a Mexican transvestite! No, seriously, my Sgt. came out to play with us and he pulled over a car being driven by a dumbass who was squealing tires and whatnot. So dumbass ended up getting arrested for traffic warrants and the Sgt. told me to keep an eye on the passenger. All of a sudden this Mexican tranvestite man emerged from the flea market and walked towards us and headed towards the car. I was all like, "What do you think you're doing?" and she replied, "Going to see my friend." I said, "Noooo" like you do when you're talking to a child or a dog, and told her to get back NOW. So she did but gave me the look from one killer to another and looked me up and down like she wanted to kick my ass! I stared back as if to say, "What? Bring it on!" Body language really is 90% of all communication!!!

Mudflap and I had planned to call it a night at 1900 hours so we could meet S and Mano at the sports bar for the wrestling PPV. In actuality, we didn't get there until almost 9pm and by then we were tired, hungry, sweaty, and spent. That is b/c we got assigned a very special call and we ended up having to use our valuable CIT training that we both just got from that 24-hour long class. We got called out to some kind of sad, shabby, old assisted living facility that looked like it was a poorly recycled nursing home or something. In fact, dispatch had put on the notes that the caller "sounded like he was in a mental hospital." We also saw that 2 other deputies had already been out there earlier but they got "preempted" to another call. There were a couple of people sitting on folding plastic chairs out in a sad, dirty little courtyard, just hanging out, including a good-looking young white guy who seemed normal except for big holes in his socks and a couple of old black women. We'd been called out there to speak to "Sammy", a 38-year old black male who we were told was bipolar and had just returned from a 2-week stay at a hospital. Sammy came out to talk to us to let us know that while he'd been away people had stolen his potato chips and scanner from his room. As he talked to us he seemed articulate but his hands were involuntarily shaking. He told us he owned the place. While speaking he rambled just a little bit. (One of the staff members pulled me aside to tell me that Sammy was seeing things of value in other residents' rooms and claiming that they belonged to him and trying to take them; unfortunately, I believed her.)

We offered to come to his room to see where the items had been stolen from. I walked down the hall next to Sammy and used his name and even got him to smile at me a couple of times. Sammy had a tv remote control in his shirt pocket and pulled it out and spoke into it for a minute. He told us his scanner had been stolen and that it was worth $38 thousand 500 million billion dollars. The strange thing was how normal and serious he seemed in spite of what he was saying. He also told us that his Mercedes Benz was outside. Thanks to our CIT training, Mudflap and I kept straight faces throughout it all and I instructed Sammy on the importance of marking your property and writing down serial numbers so that his stolen items could be retrieved with no problems. He agreed with me. We told him he was going to have to discuss the thefts with the property administrators, Dr. Dawn and Miss Teresa when they were on duty during the week, but that if he still needed to call us after that then he could. I asked him what medications he'd been prescribed at the hospital. He named 4 med's but I only recognized 2 of them: Haldol and Seroquel, and boy do I know what those are for thanks to the research I do at Job #1 for Dr. P. Haldol is what Andrea Yates was on when she did what she did. Poor Sammy. He said he wasn't taking them anymore b/c they did nothing for him. I secretly wanted to scold him for that but that's not my job or place to do so. I did tell him the importance of trying to get along with everyone and our neighbors and how we all need to work together as a community and he agreed with me.

Sammy offered to walk us out and we chatted amicably and in a relaxed manner. I got him to smile some more. He also told us of his special powers that he had where he could see visions, and I asked about them and how long he'd had them. He asked us if he calls back for the police can he ask for us specifically? I was touched, and wondered if the deputies who had been there earlier deliberately split and if they'd had CIT training, and if they'd been rude or dismissive. But who knows. Mudflap and I said we couldn't guarantee we'd be the ones sent back but we did write down our names for Sammy and told him to call the police again if needed. I felt so bad for Sammy, and everyone there. As depressing as nursing homes are, this place was even sadder and was so shabby and rundown. But, I guess, it sure beats being homeless and I do know from the CIT class that 50% of homeless are mentally ill.

So that's why Mudflap and I were late to wrestling, but we also knew from CIT training that you can't rush these kinds of calls. Sammy really needed someone to talk to and that was us. When I finally got home I passed out where I fell, on top of my bed, still sweaty and surrounded by my uniform, belts, vest, and even gun (unloaded by that time). Tonight is our monthly sheriff's meeting so it's a full day for me today as well. I just hope all this hard work is keeping me young!