I was caught in the blow-back of a pepper spray incident. The officers occasionally have to use pepper spray when a situation is getting dangerous and the inmate isn't responding to direct orders ("STOP!" "Get down!" etc.) It's pretty concentrated, but if it does get sprayed you can definitely feel it. Usually I'm able to book it when I see that a situation is getting to that point, but I missed it today. And that stuff SUCKS. It feels like you're breathing hundreds of teeny tiny knives that get stuck in your throat. You cough but it does nothing. And the poor women who were sitting too close and actually got sprayed.
I had to go talk to the woman who had been sprayed, to make sure she was safe to be let back out. She was in the shower, rinsing off the spray, which means I got to talk to a soaking wet, naked woman about why she shouldn't throw things at other people.
I got a call a few minutes before I was supposed to leave that one of my new clients was screaming in her cell. I'd just met with her this morning and we seemed to make a connection. By the time I got over to the unit she was in the shower, soaking wet (I'm seeing a theme), banging her head and screaming like Linda Blair.
Two hours later I finally left the office and picked up the kids. In the car on the way home, I heard a tell-tale gurgle, and in my rearview mirror witnessed poor Syd puking her guts out, only she had so little energy behind it it was more like a slow leak. I pulled over, assessed the situation, cursed myself for cleaning out the car so well, and apologized profusely to my poor baby who now had to ride home in vomit.
I'm really hoping the rest of the weekend is less drippy.