Author: MysticRaven
I want people to understand that inmates are human beings. Not animals. What happened to my loved one proves how badly people forget that.
He went into the system a healthy young man. While at one particular facility, his pleas for medical help were ignored. They even moved him as far away from the nurses’ station as possible — just so they wouldn’t have to hear him calling for help.
He is now a quadriplegic.
He kept telling them he was dying. He just continuously got worse. He was falling, and no one would help him for hours. He was sick, and no one would listen. By the time they finally sent him to a hospital, he was so sick he could barely move.
This went on for approximately seven months. Maybe longer.
We did get to speak to him occasionally before he couldn’t use his limbs anymore. He would tell us that they were ignoring him. That staff were telling him he wasn’t dying or he wouldn’t be yelling all day.
We called the prison almost every day. We spoke to the medical department. We spoke and left message after message for the warden. We were telling them that he was sick and needed a physician. That it wasn’t right for them to just ignore him.
They told us he was doing okay. That they were looking into it. Then it got to where no one would return calls or emails. They just went completely silent while we knew he was in there getting worse.
When they finally sent him to a hospital, I’m not sure what that first hospital diagnosed him with. But from there, they sent him to another prison facility — and that facility denied him at the door. They told the ambulance driver he needed a hospital, that he was dying. And he was.
They took him to another hospital. He had double pneumonia, kidney cancer, and paraneoplastic syndrome — which is where all muscle use is lost.
At first, we couldn’t even see him. The guards told the hospital staff that he didn’t have family to call. We were on his visitation list. They knew we existed. Thanks to one woman who made calls and dug into his background, she found us. She called us and told us to get there quickly. As you know, they do not call in family unless the outcome is dire.
We were terrified. We just knew he was dying.
When we got there, we saw a weak, defeated, half-dead man. He was on a ventilator, had a feeding tube, was thin — so very thin. He couldn’t talk and couldn’t use his hands to write. He just nodded or blinked.
He stayed in the hospital approximately three weeks. He did recover enough to speak. He told us how they just ignored him and his pleas. How sick and weak he got. How angry he was.
When I asked him what the hardest part was, he said: not having his family for support.
After those three weeks, he went back to yet another prison facility. Wheelchair bound. Still with a feeding tube.
He was upset. He wanted to come home.
At first, everything was going fine. They were taking care of him, helping him with what he needed. Then the daily help he needed slacked off. It took hours to get someone to help him to the bathroom. He would call for help. They would say, “I’ll get there when I can.”
Then they put him in diapers. There was a time or two they left him to sit in his own mess overnight. They have even left him sitting up in his wheelchair overnight.
The nurses get hateful. They talk with an attitude towards him. They even left the feeding tube in for months after it was no longer needed. It got infected at least once during this.
They do not give him his medical updates in a timely manner. They do not give him his parole updates in a timely manner. They do not give him all necessary hygiene. His teeth haven’t been brushed in months. His nails are too long — both fingernails and toenails. His feet get scaly and crusted with calluses.
Again, we try to call and email. We never get a response.
He says he feels threatened by one particular nurse. It’s just the way she speaks. Her attitude. He says she just hates him.
They have also physically abused him. Once when being fed, the aide or nurse shoved the spork into his mouth and scratched his throat. They are very rough when moving him, tearing skin from his forearms.
We do visit. Regularly. We see the torn skin. We see the sadness and anger. We see the long nails. I even take his sock off to see his feet. At this moment, his legs are swollen from retaining water. At one point, that swelling was so bad it would open the skin and seep through.
We are not allowed to take care of it ourselves — or yes, we would. We always email and/or call to report what we see. Again, we get no responses.
He has been at this facility for six months now.
He wants to go somewhere where he can get the actual help he needs. He wants to come home so we can take care of him. If not home, at least somewhere where someone cares.
Both my residence and his mother’s residence were denied. He is now approved to go to the only nursing home allowed for inmates. We are waiting on a date for when they will move him.
We are just praying it is better than the actual prison system.
Both myself and my mother are sad and angry. He should never have gotten so bad that he can no longer do anything for himself. We are angry that no one would listen.
We put on a brave face when visiting because we know he is also depressed. But we’re all in a state of depression. No matter who calls or emails, we get ignored.
And we know we are not the only ones. There are several social media groups where families are going through similar things. They keep asking, “Who do we speak to?” Most are stuck. Maybe a select few have gotten answers.
It isn’t just the medical neglect. We all see the deaths every day inside the walls. All unnecessary. We see them through the groups. Also news outlets, though they barely cover it. We discuss it at visits.
It’s just constant awareness of how badly the prison system has gotten. It’s as if they don’t care about any of the inmates. They go to work, do as little as possible, and then go home. And people die because of it. The ones who survive are left sitting in wheelchairs overnight, or waiting hours for help to use the bathroom, or ignored while they’re dying for seven months.
God saved him for a reason. So we’re going to keep showing up, keep fighting, keep being there for him no matter what the system does or doesn’t do.
When he does finally get to that nursing home, I hope they help him with all his medical needs. I hope they get him back on his feet. Help him to walk again. Help him to use his hands again. He only talks about working when he does get out. We know this may never happen. But as long as he thinks he can, yes.
I believe people who can no longer be a risk to anyone, who have served almost half of their sentence and been neglected to this point, should have special circumstances to be paroled home.
But that has been ignored. He is just another number to them. Even though he can’t move, can’t harm anyone, has been destroyed by their own neglect — none of that matters. The system that broke him won’t make an exception for him.
Meanwhile, we have homes ready to take him in and care for him properly. But those were denied too.
If there’s one thing I want people on the outside to understand, it’s this: Please stand by your loved ones. We are all they have. Inside those walls, with staff who won’t listen and a system that doesn’t care, family is all they have.