Ten months into Open Conditions and I had a swift, sharp reminder that I am serving a prison sentence recently.
I was working away in my wee office when a pair of kangas walked in. I wasn’t really worried, I hadn’t been playing Solitaire, in fact I was typing up meeting minutes when the kanga I knew pointed me out to the one I didn’t know – “That’s your man there.” I gestured to the empty seat figuring that he wanted to talk to me about some committee or other, but he declined, and with a shake of his head he said three letters “M.D.T.”
Mandatory Drug Test – I suddenly realised that I hadn’t had an MDT since before leaving Erlestoke, maybe even before Covid. This was a blast from the past. “Why is it that you always wait until I have just had a piss to come for a test? Do you listen out for the flush?”
“Don’t worry,” said the kanga, “you have 4 hours to produce – We’ll get you a drink of water.”
I grabbed my keys and glasses and we left for the MDT suite. Now this kanga didn’t know me so he was careful to ensure that I had no opportunity to drop contraband or to grab a sample that I could use to cheat the test. When we arrived at the MDT suite there was already a customer inside who was struggling to produce a sample so I had to wait, but it gave me a chance to drink some water – I felt reassured that I would be able to produce in good order.
Now here’s the weird thing. I don’t take drugs and I don’t take anything from anybody else that might make me inadvertently take something, e.g. a cigarette or drink. I had no reason to be concerned, yet I was anxious. I think it’s the same as being pulled over by the police when driving, I have a licence, MOT, tax, insurance and am stone cold sober – yet what if there is something that I don’t know about?
Anyway, the other customer finished and was escorted out as I was ushered in. In my decade of prison I estimate that I have had close to 50 MDT’s, so I know the drill like an airport employee heading for a flight. I took off my coat and jumper and emptied my pockets onto the desk in front of me. The Kanga at the desk checked my possessions while the other gave me a pat down and checked my pockets.
Then the kangas instructed me to lift drop my trousers and boxers to my knees, lift my t-shirt to my ribcage and rotate a full circle in front of them. This is to check that I don’t have a bag or bottle tucked away to beat the test. In fairness I think it’s more awkward for the kangas than it is for me. I was handed a sealed beaker and pointed to an unshielded urinal less than 6 feet from the desk. So off I went and pissed like a race horse! Man I could have filled a pitcher, but I produced the sample they needed with a wee (get it?) margin of error and handed it over. The sample was divided into A and B and the regulations and procedures governing MDT were read out to me. If the A sample came back positive I could pay for an independent lab to check the B sample in defense, blah blah blah.
I thought it ironic that the Drug and Alcohol Recovery Team (DART) enquiry desk was on my way out of the MDT suite. I know so many lads who have had an MDT and immediately sought help from DART knowing that their test will come back positive. I’m not sure that it is always an effective strategy – why not seek help before the MDT? Similarly, when I’ve helped lads with letters to judges pre-sentencing I have advised lads against mentioning the impact that being imprisoned will have on their children. Most ignore me but get a shock when their pleas only exacerbate matters as the judge asks, “Well if your children are so important to you, why didn’t you consider the effect on them before you…”
Ten days later and I got a certificate confirming that my test was clear of any naughtiness. The kanga who handed me the cert asked, “Was it ever really in doubt with you?” I couldn’t help myself, “Well Ms, I’m an Irish man in the British Judicial System. I’m always going to be a little bit wary.” But when she smiled at me I realised she was at least a generation too young to remember the Guildford 4 or Birmingham 6. I thanked her for the cert and she went on her way.
I’m getting closer to the point when I won’t be routinely subject to strip searching, which is nice. But I’m also getting old and I have to explain more of my references – a large percentage of people (kangas and cons) have never seen Deliverance, so “Duelling Banjos”, “You got a pretty mouth” and “Squee like a pig” go over their heads. “Diddi Mow” from Deer Hunter similarly draws blank expressions – and people checking to see if my face is drooping due to an aneurism.
So for now the kangas literally take the piss for MDTs while the lads on the wing figuratively take the piss because I use old man references. As Murtaugh (Lethal Weapon) was want to say, “I’m getting to old for this shit.”
