"I am the truth! I am the truth! I am the truth!" screams the inmate in cell No. 12. Detention deputy Herman Collazo pays little attention to the rant while making his rounds. Every 15 minutes, he checks on inmates under psychiatric observation at the Orient Road Jail. "You have to have patience to work in here," Collazo says. "If you don't have patience, this is not the place to work," These inmates can't safely mingle with the general population. They struggle with substance-induced psychotic disorders and suicidal urges. Some are bipolar; others schizophrenic. They may refuse medication, and deputies can't legally force them to take it. A psychiatrist is always available because in this dimly lit place, each day presents a new mood. This group can have casual conversations. But they also scream, throw feces and curse at deputies. "We've been called every name in the book, and that doesn't make our blood pressure go up," adds Collazo, who is 37. "It's our job to protect them. I guess at the end of the day, they need us more than we need them."