I went to court yesterday to confront Mr. Jailbird, the man who attacked my coworkers and me a few months back. He looked “thrilled” to be in court. He cut his hair, cleaned himself up, and was accompanied to court by his social worker and his therapeutic foster parents. He’s an adult who is still in the foster care system. Go figure. His posse glared at me and the other nurses like we were deviants for making Mr. Jailbird talk to a judge about his criminal behavior. I stared back at them. Let the games begin.
My coworkers and I sat through many mini hearings in the courtroom before they got to our case. We were the last ones on the court docket. Our assailant didn’t enter the courtroom until the last minute. He was waiting in the public defender office. Right before our case was called, the court bailiff whispered something in the judge’s ear. Then the judge called a brief recess. There was a commotion at the bench as the judge was ushered to his champers by security. The states attorney told us that Mr. Jailbird’s public defending had just warned the court of her clients escalating behavior. He was making threats against the judge and the witness in his case. The state’s attorney was smiling. Mr. Jailbird had just proven her case. Extra security officers quickly entered the courtroom before the trial processed.
I testified first. Mr. Jailbird was about ten feet away from me as I recalled the events to the best of my ability. I could hear his chair creaking as he rocked in his seat. I glanced over once at Mr. Jailbird. His eyes locked on me. I fought back tears when the state’s attorney showed me the evidence bag containing the shank Mr. Jailbird used in the assault. I kept took a deep breath and focused on the judge. Then the public defender asked me questions. She tried to rattle me, but I took my time answering her questions. She knew her case was a lost cause because she was the one who had tipped off the court about her client’s threats.
In the end, Mr. Jailbird was found guilty of 2nd degree assault and malicious destruction of property. The sentencing phase of the trial will take place in 90 days. The judge wants a court physiatrist to examine Mr. Jailbird before he decides what to do with him. In the meantime, Mr. Jailbird is going back home with his foster parents. The judge put him on a short leash. Mr. Jailbird was told that he would go to the poky if he acts while he awaits his sentence. The judge also asked me when I wanted to make my victim statement. He said, “Do you want to do it now or later, although I can just imagine what you’re going to say.” I’ll make my statement when the judge rules in the case.
I bumped into Mr. Jailbird’s social worker as I was leaving court. She told me that no one currently involved in his case knew anything about Mr. Jailbird’s past exploits at the hospital. She showed me a legal pad filled with notes, and she told me that she was going to be making a lot of phone calls when she got home from court. Then I saw Mr. Jailbird’s foster parents in the parking lot. They looked shell shocked. Mr. Jailbird faces ten years in jail and $25,000 fine. I just have one more thing to say: