Incarcerated Woman Condemns Medical Neglect of Women in Indiana Prisons

If my words could adequately express the reality you would know what it feels like to be a surplus human being inside a surplus population. You would understand the difference between being an oversight and being deliberately refused, delayed, and thwarted medical care. If my written expression did any justice to the experience you wouldn’t easily walk away after reading this, but would instead experience the shift in your own thinking as to what constitutes reality. If I could adequately express the truths as they are, so long as you were not one of the capitalists in this system using my body, soul, family and community for monetary gain, you may say to yourself, “this is wrong.” You may even have a conversation with another human being admitting this is wrong. If my words had the ability to communicate the reality they would undoubtedly be suppressed by authority, rejected by mainstream media, only circulated marginally and refuted by IDOC medical. Dr. Dauss, what of these experiences?

My words fail the reality. They don’t do justice to the hundred or so women I’ve watched die in prison. The women who don’t even get diagnosed with cancer until it is stage 4 because early detection is not the medical standard for us. (The number of lung cancer diagnoses among those having served 20 years or more would sound an alarm in an affluent population.) These incarcerated patients die inside a prison infirmary room, unnoticed, left to lay in their own feces, urine, and bile. The suffering of those who die inside is not even a thought in any state auditor or coroner’s mind. No one witnesses, checks, or investigates the dying inside. Hiding a dying patient by IDOC is as simple as banishing them to their cell. These are the women who don’t die quick enough to keep a bed in the infirmary. This is the mentally ill patient, forced to die alone, in inhumane conditions with zero regard for her pain. (R.I.P. Pam Brown). The witnessing correctional officer is forever traumatized; just ask her. What of the incarcerated people in this state who are denied the right to pursue life - denied the right to be believed, denied the right for medical testing, denied medically necessary equipment or living modifications, denied the right to proper treatment, denied pain relief, denied follow-up care, denied nursing, denied home healthcare aides…what of it?

What of the female incarcerated population specifically? What of our specific needs? Tampons are not sold on commissary. Cardboard tampons can be purchased from the facility for 0.15 cents each. Purchasing 20 on an incarcerated pay wage is anywhere from ⅕  to 1/10 of total monthly state pay. Need more toilet paper? 0.68 cents. Sanitary napkins? .09 cents. But more important than the non biodegradable tampons may be the total disregard of the female menstrual experience altogether. You have cancer, HPV, endometriosis, or excessive symptoms while menstruating- no period specific medications are available on commissary or through the medical department; No extra strength anything. No Midol, no Pamprin…in segregation areas, or at count times, or for the sadistic pleasure of a twisted guard, we are denied bathroom access. Profuse menstruation at these times requires laying down towels or extra blankets to bleed on. No bags or purses are available to tote tampons or pads to bathroom areas, and bathrooms are not stocked. You must bring your own everything in prison. So, my period is broadcasted to the entire environment. Pap smears may or may not be undertaken if it is your year to receive one. You have no choice if the doctor is male or female. Do not expect any breast checks or holistic reproductive health care because it is not available. If you feel a lump in your breast? It will take at least 3 to 4 months to receive outside testing. A positive diagnosis may take an additional 6 months before treatment options are discussed.

If I had the words to describe the culture of incarcerated medical care in Indiana, would it matter? Would it matter that incarcerated patients wear bright orange, alerting the entire community as to their status as the incarcerated class? Or, that they are handcuffed around ankles and wrists that are then fastened between their hands in a black box device which prevents the lateral movement of the arms? Would it matter that when I trip on my ankle chain as I am being paraded around a hospital or parking lot, I am unable to break my fall or catch myself? Or, that when I am presented to the doctor for medical testing I remain handcuffed? The correctional officers, nursing staff and doctors all impact my access to medical care. My medical care is not autonomous: I am affected when the CO’s forget the handcuff key at the prison, or when the nurse is afraid to ask for the removal of my chains, or when the M.D. feels more comfortable addressing the CO’s concerning my treatment options. These are all facets of the culture underlying the health care I do or do not receive.

How about the nurses who google me while I am in their care? Then share with all the other hospital staff what they found. What of their prejudice and intentional sabotage of care? What of their lack of regard as to my medical privacy? Or, their blatant disgust towards me because of my incarcerated class? How about the nurse who considers my bad heart and implies my drug use better have been worth it? Actually Nurse, my bad heart is congenital, but then if professionalism was a standard and I deserving, you would have received my medical history and known that. What if I had brought my disease on myself due to personal choices? Does that make me less worthy for medical care today?

The audacious candor of the M.D. 's concerns with treating me, “you are ineligible for the procedure because your [state] insurance will not cover it.” Or, the ElectroPhysisist’s assertion, “well, we have minimum [treatment] options with your [incarcerated] situation.” Or, the Nurse Practitioner’s revelation that an ambulance trip costs too much so I am unable to go to the Emergency Room. At this point my life is devalued even in receiving necessary and life-preserving medical care. I am the incarcerated class.

Be it stereotypes ascribed my appearance, the solicited fear of my criminal status due to the two armed guards escorting me, or your personal bias…my healthcare means so little to you:

I can menstruate on myself and be forced to remain saturated,

Puke bile post-surgery while recovering in the prison infirmary and be forced to clean it myself or

live with it,

Have to pack all my personal items in boxes and move buildings with open wounds or having just

given birth,

I can trip over my chains and be made to get back up and walk;

My eyelids can be flicked by first responders while being taunted by them for faking my symptoms,

only to be air-lifted to emergency care…

I can be denied necessary procedures, treatments, prescribed pain medication, and access to necessary assistance all because of my incarcerated class.

For remedy the general public is advised I have the ability to sue, or file a grievance if I “feel” wronged. Sure, suing is exactly what I am ready to do at the time of requiring life-giving medical care. When I’m told I have 6 months to live; faced with the decision to amputate my big toe now, or delay and possibly lose my foot. When I am in the middle of keeping my body alive, it is hard to put my energy towards fighting a system which as a rule, practice, and custom puts a value on my life in monetary terms. A system which has the benefit-of-the-doubt, in addition to big contracts with the capitalists who profit off of mass incarceration in Indiana, in part, by placing a cap on my medical care, and reaping a profit. Please don’t forget my entire trek towards freedom includes my “rehabilitative”, educational, vocational, and employment options including accessibility. All of these are on the chopping block by retaliatory D.O.C. officials who take pleasure in punishing us for trying to assert our voices. Receiving health care from the same agency which oversees the conditions of serving time does not go hand-in-hand when both are money-making ventures and any complaints are subdued, repressed, reprimanded or retaliated against. Like me in a black box there is no lateral movement; only up or down. Either I compromise my health for the needs of my future or my future for the fight over attaining adequate healthcare…or, I could die. 

Death is so easy…Who would miss me? I am incarcerated, unworthy for life. If this were not true why would it be this hard?

If I ever find the words to reveal these truths, please know I will. If I live long enough to see my release and stay alive, I will publish these facts. Meanwhile, I’m just waiting for the next move…I went ahead and filed that grievance. Hopefully, I’ll live long enough and find the words to communicate the reality.