Saturday, May 31, 2008
A "Heart Healthy" meal menu created and implemented by ADOC has turned out to simply be exchanging white breads with wheat, portions decreased and one or two old entrees being replaced with new, equally small portioned entrees, and doing away with most medically prescribed "special needs" diets i.e. diabetic, hypoglycemic, low fat, low sodium and cardiac. Prisoners with these medical dietary needs now are expected to regulate their diets by simply not eating unhealthy items from their "regular" tray, calorie-count be damned. I am hypoglycemic. Lovely.
In related news, June 2nd begins the new inmate commissary list. ADOC has authorized Keefe Commissary Network to add many new food items, increase weekly spending limits, and remove current quantity caps on available commissary lists.
Coincidence? I think not! ADOC making these changes smacks of capitalism, corruption and oppression. In my opinion.
Most prisoners earn between $14-$16 a month for working. Of this, 30% is deducted towards any court ordered restitution, 5% for a statutory drug treatment fee (no matter your conviction, time, drug history, etc.). $3.00 (per visit) for medical care, and any other deductionsADOC & legislature deems necessary . Not much left after the vultures feed. Not only is the minimal state-pay of prisoners devoured, but any and all incoming money from family and friends is subject to the same. Prisoners are even bent-over for utilities by the powers that be.
Currently I am in debt on my account approximately 3 grand for medical surcharges and litigation costs on my lawsuits (photocopies, stationery, pens, notary service, postage etc.) accumulated since 2003. ALL money deposited into my account will go towards this until it is paid in full. I, personally, cannot use money sent directly to me forcommissary until this is paid off. Luckily, I have been able to get the necessities the past four or five months, due to two very greatly appreciated friends.
Despite these loved-ones, and resourcefulness, I still live in poverty, and have gone to sleep hungry. Many live with much, much less though and I'm blessed to have any help. DoesADOC or any of the countless people who prey on the imprisoned and their friends & family care? Of course not.
Tony attends a Christian service once a week where those orangemen able to donate food and hygiene items from the commissary do so. They manage to provide three small paper bags of commissary a week to fellow Christians in dire need. No help from ADOC.
Director Schriro's new policies and state-wide changes have only managed to push the already indigent prisoner's heads further under water and the non-indigent prisoner's heads closer to the water line... all the while, allowingADOC and it's contracted Penile (NOT misspelled) Predatory Corporations to profit.
In 1998, ADOC MDs diagnosed me with Hepatitis +. Between 1998 & 2007, despite many requests, I was denied / delayed being seen by a specialst to be given a liver biopsy, to be properly monitored and tested and to be given antiviral medications.
In 2006, I filed a suit in federal court - this case is still pending.
In 2007, I began antiviral meds and it's been a succes. I've also seen specialists, received a biopsy and been monitored / tested.
I suffered irreversible injury (fibrosis and cirrhosis), and pain and suffering due to ADOC and ADOC MDs.
Claim #2 - Summary
In 2003, I notified ADOC dentists that I had a dental cavity needing a filling. After approximately a year, despite my many requests for care, the tooth had to be extracted.
Again, ADOC and it's dentists denied / delayed medical attention. I suffered tooth pain, bleeding gums, difficulty eating and fever. I lost a front tooth. This claim is also on my Federal suit and is pending.
Both claims are violations of my rights guaranteed by the US Constitution. Both claims are also common practices within ADOC and I am far from being the only prisoner who has / is suffering as a result.
I am in a a unique and troubling position right now, legally and morally.
I can take my case to trial and force changes for all ADOC prisoner's benefit AND possibly prosper myself, albeit it will drag on for years in appellate courts.
I can settle it within a short time and financially gain, providing medical care for myself in the future as well as help lessen financial burdens and provide some stability after my release for my new family / loved ones... and myself.
I'm torn between the two choices.
Which is the more responsible choice? Am I selfish to accept a settlement for my loved-ones and my own sake rather than helping the masses years later?
If you were a juror, what would you say I'm entitled to monetarily and / or otherwise?
Trial or settlement?
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Putting my book down to give him my full attention, I said, "How ironic. Kennedy has a brain tumor too. It's been all over CNN." His eyes lit up hearing this and he continued, "I know. I got the tumor through CNN. I have a rare condition called Media Induced Contagion Factor. See, whatever I see on the news.... I got it!"
"Hmm", was my only response, convinced it was his quirky humor and not a true psychosis... hopefully.
"How's your blogging going?" he asked. "Great. I'm going to blog you", I responded, smiling. "I see", he replied, disinterest in his voice. "Why don't you have your own blog?" I inquired. "I think it's a possibility when I'm released", he answered, adding, "I'll first sabotage a certain Brit's blog as soon as I figure out how to turn on a computer".
"So, you're going to be a techno-terrorist?, I asked, unable to hold back a chuckle. "Yeah, I'll be the Blogosphere Bomber, the Mainframe Monster, the Internet Insurgent!... or, I might just succumb to my rare medical condition. I haven't decided." Weird Al ended the conversation by turning and walking back to his CNN.
Friday, May 23, 2008
In my past, there were immeasurably trying times. Occasionally, times still get tough, but each of you in your own unique ways, keep me on track... inspire, encourage, and help me. You are a constant reminder that beauty and good will shine through even the darkest of times and places. I thank each and every one of you:
Wood Song, for your infinite wisdom, amazing compassion and love and most recently your selflessness and willingness to help friends in dire need. WOW! Thank you for this and every thing else you do.
Pixie, for loving me, allowing me to love you, for being that "somebody" I can share life with and for providing that one thing I can't live without - family. To us *holds up wine-glass full of Berry-Blue Koolaid*.
Shaun, for your unending encouragement, help inside and out of prison, friendship and not-so-subtle advocacy against cruel, corrupt and draconian criminal justice issues. You've shown me that I can and I will, thrive in the world as a law-abiding person. I can see the big picture now, rather than just the "right now". We will meet again, friend.
Tony, my fellow orangeman and best friend. Cheer up. We'll find you a woman to write and visit with! (Anyone in AZ interested?) Sherioushly... LOL! (Shell's note: he's HOT, HOT, HOT, smokin' HOT!)
Sue, my amazingly artistic, compassionate and caring friend who's letters are faithfully arriving and appreciated. Who has been there for me since the day we met. Whose gallery quality portraits and art I am truly envious of, as well as in awe of. I love, cherish and respect you, my friend.
Thinkinkmesa, your wisdom has enlightened me and I always enjoy your comments and conversation. I am anxious to meet you in person one day and believe it will happen, my friend.
And, Katrina, my life-long friend and a beautiful person inside and out. You captured my heart many, many years ago and kept it from dying so that I could give it to Pixie all these years later. THAT is an amazing showing of love, compassion, friendship and selflessness. You never cease to amaze me.
So many great friends to mention: Samantha, Geoff, Doug, Louise, Vanessa and many others. I love and care about you all. Thanks again, for being my friend.
Has any body tried to pee in a whirling, gusting wind? Well, it's not easy and rarely is it a dry experience. Wind whipping and whirling around inside the walled area guarantees a mishap every time.
I peed all over myself today.
Its not funny!
Okay, so it is a little funny. LOL.
How about either elevating the toilets or putting in a urinal?!? What where they thinking? LOL!
Monday, May 19, 2008
"I'm going to handle the searches in a professional manner" Bonorand assured us. Those of us who have experienced his searches, as well as professionalism and ability to do his job knew this was a lie.
"I'm going to tape the hobby-craft authorization form to my ruler so that it isn't taken from me like the last time you searched, Sarge" "Weird Al" told Bonorand, showing him the ruler and the form before he left the dorm with his security detail in tow". "It'll be ok", was Bonorand's parting response to him.
Twenty minutes later, after being strip-searched in groups of ten, we were lined up against the recreation yard fence and sniff-searched by a dog. Up and down the fence line the dope smelling canine went, seeking drugs hidden on (or in) the prisoners. Nothing found.
Made to stand or sit in the sun on the rec. yard for a couple of hours while Bonorand and his dirty dozen or so guards "searched" our MINIMUM SECURITY Building / Dorms (H.U. 1), other MEDIUM SECURITY orangemen from Buildings / Dorms (H.U.'s 2-5) were stripped and sniffed too. Again, nothing found.
Upon returning to our building / dorm, we discovered our expectations of Bonorand and his searchers were met. Once again, our things were in shambles, things had been broken and things had just "vanished".
The light-bulb to my reading lamp: broken. My extension cord to plug in appliances in the dilapidated dorm: missing. My neighbor's small desk fan: admittedly dropped and broken. Another neighbor's hobby crafts: broken AND missing, his $18.00 1 cup water heater (Keefe commissary priced): missing. Other guys had the same and / or similar treatment by the searchers.
Despite "Weird Al"'s extra precautionary measures, his ruler AND authorization form: BOTH missing, as well as his $30.00 headphones and $18.00 water heater. When he questioned Bonorand and the guard who searched his stuff, the guard denied that the items were even in the area, despite Bonorand knowing this to be a lie.
Once again, Bonorand has proven himself to be an incompetent supervisor, a liar, a thief and a threat to the safety and security of the unit. He cannot control his subordinates and co-signs their criminal, inhumane, unconstitutional and dangerous behavior and actions.
As if an omen, before Bonorand and his marauders could continue with H.U.s 2-5, Cimmaron unit initiated an emergency call-out to the entire Tucson prison complex requesting all available staff and "dark teams" to immediately report to Cimmaron. A "dark team" is a gruop of trained guards which respond to riots, hostage situations, etc. in riot gear, clad all in black. Also known as Goon-Squad, Ninja Turtles, and Men In Black.
The prison system in Arizona is changing. Whether it is for the better has yet to be seen. It is fossils like Bonorand and his ilk, with that "us vs them" mentality and "Good old boy" ways that are struggling to prevent a positive change. A change will happen; the wheels are already in motion. The question is: will ADOC , collectively and individual employees all the change for the better? As a taxpayer footing the bill for Dark-Teams, law suit payouts, etc. - will YOU allow a change for the worse?
As an ADOC prisoner, a person with a voice, the will to see positive change and a penchant for opposing oppressors and the corrupt - whether on paper, the net or in court, I will do MY part.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Ideally, a Gastroenterologist or a Hepatologist would be great, but any licensed physician would be more than adequate.
If you are interested, have a family member or friend interested in helping out in this legal action, in any way, please contact me with details. I will put you in contact with my attorney.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
All three were from the woman I love, making this an even more upsetting situation. I've been able to call her at the prison's outrageous collect call prices, however, this does not make it better. I worry about the cost for my calls. I'm sure that her phone bill will be horrendous and cause her grief. Unable to see her regularly in visitation due to her work schedule and cost of gas, it is irritating to say the least. What am I to do? Mail is interfered with, phone calls are expensive and visits are challenging. Is this part of Director Schriro's "great plan" to assist prisoners with reconnecting with society and loved ones? Or is it just a byproduct of incompetent management and staff? Either way...I'm pissed!
Have these people not learned that they're only asking me to make waves if they don't just simply do what they're paid to do?
I'm in love, missing her, feeling manic and pissed off. Bring it! Let's just explore ADOC's policies, state / federal law and my ability to litigate.
Thanks everybody, for the venting forum...
Monday, May 05, 2008
I've never committed sex crimes, murder or anything like that, but I have victimized people. A lot of people. Mostly innocent victims. Working folks. Many fellow addicts and criminals too. Even people I cared about and loved. Nobody is safe when it comes to feeding a tweeker's habit. NOBODY!
My life was never safe. I robbed dealers and even flaunted it in front of people. I stole cars from people's driveways. I was a scary person to be around. The myth that a tweeker will steal your stuff, convince you it's just lost and then spend hours helping you look for it, isn't a myth. I've done it. I've watched it and had it done to me!
I've been on top. Lots of money, dope and nice things. It was good.
However, it always ends up with the same outcome. ROCK BOTTOM! With nobody, nothing and nowhere.
At one point I was on top. I had a job, money, a nice home, nice truck, good friends and a somewhat normal life. It was ALL gone two weeks after I chose to shoot up $20.00 of meth, just once.
I can't say I didn't enjoy the high, nor can I say there weren't exciting and pleasurable times. But the cost of those times and that high was immense. Far more than anyone can fathom.
After "trying" methamphetamine, just once, it cost me everything... and far more than half of my life.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
I won't pretend that the meth world didn't have it's exciting and pleasurable times. At times the life was incredible.
However, no matter who you are, where you're from or what your background is, the meth world will devour you. You'll never be the same once you've been touched by this crystaline dark finger.
I "tried" meth at 12 years old and didn't willingly stop until I was 19. Sure, I went without getting high, but that was only because I was hospitalized, in jail or prison, and / or couldn't find it.
As a kid, being a tweeker robbed me of years that I can never get back. Years vital to my transition from child to adult.
While I watched my classmates graduate from 6th grade, I was in the shadows of the small crowd of parents and students. I don't recall anything other than the $20.00 bill I was lifting from my teacher's purse as we stood there. I didn't graduate. Later I bought a quarter gram of meth and smoked it on foil, alone in my room.
The meth was one thing consistent in my childhood. Because of my unsavory home life, I was in and out of group homes and had foster parent changes quite frequently. Schools changed. Friends came and went. Meth was always there. At every turn. At every step I made.
One particular image comes to my mind when I think back to my teenage tweeking. The very first time shooting up.
Sitting on a footstool in a studio apartment while staring at a guy in his thirties sticking a needle in a girl, my palms sweated and fear was suppressed by my overwhelming desire to get high. I was next. The man plunged the dope into a vein on her foot, quickly withdrew it and moved his hand up her inner thigh, between her legs. It was a very brief touch as she shoved his hand off of her. He just smiled. She moved over on the raggedy couch and patted the cushion next to her inviting me to sit next to her. I anxiously moved onto the couch.
The guy filled the syringe with the light yellow tinged, liquid crank from a spoon. I was concious of the dirty spoon and used needle. It didn't matter. Only the high mattered. Finding a vein, he entered it, drew blood into thesyringe mixing with the liquid, and plunged it all into my bloodstream. My arm, where he withdrew the needle began to burn painfully. He'd missed the vein a little as he pulled the needle, injecting dope into the tissue around it. I didn't care that it could get infected. It didn't matter that I was in pain. I was high. My mind was going a thousand miles an hour and I feltindestructible. All powerful.
In what seemed like an hour I found myself in a stolen car, with a girl I didn't know, shooting up again. It had actually been a whole day since I'd done that first fix. The girl was a hitchhiker I'd picked up. She was clearly a hardcore IV user. Very thin. Very pale. Very scarred with needle tracks. Sores and blemishes on her face and arms. This teen girl's appearance and desolate aura terrified me. Yet, the high I was chasing kept me from running from her.
Before I turned 18 years old, I had slept in alleys, shared blood and needles with at least 30 addicts, stolen at least a hundred cars, robbed people, stolen thousands, contracted hepatitis, seen more than one dead addict, spent hundreds of thousands on meth, sold meth and created numerous addicts.
Good times? Oh sure. It only cost me my entire teen aged years. I was "that kid"!
...to be continued.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
I was the cute, shy little boy who just wanted the attention from my sis and anybody else. I wanted to feel wanted, a part of something, and to be loved. This was lacking at home with my parents. Or so I perceived.
It was no wonder I so willingly snorted that very first line from my sister's girlfriend's compact mirror. I didn't fear the unknown. I just did it, then cringed at the burning in my nostril and foul taste draining down my throat. "Don't be shy", my sister's friend comforted me, "I don't bite" she added, pulling my face to her breasts. As my mind raced, body tingled and and energy pulsed, I was acutely aware of her sexual presence. I sweated even more.
Minutes later, I watched this beautiful girl having sex with two guys. She was 16 years old! The two guys had the meth. I sat staring, wired for sound as these two adults gave her small lines of meth and used her every way imaginable. It was extremely exciting for me to watch. She even appeared to thoroughly enjoy it all.
A year later, I silently smoked a bowl of meth and broke down into tears, alone in my room. I had a crush on her and had just learned that she was found dead in a vacant apartment. Suicide. Her addiction and tormented mind opened an artery on her delicate arm as she sat alone in a tub of warm water.
By the time meth claimed her life, I was in deep. I was out of control and didn't care whether I lived or died. I was "that guy". Without any clue, I was.
Nobody ever talked to me about drugs. We stepped over the junkies in the gutter. We looked away from the addicts around. We just never spoke about it.
...to be continued.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
I personally welcome you and and encourage you to continue to read my blog.
Family and friends of inmates, news media, attorneys, prisoner rights organizations, human rights organizations, curious citizens, numerous others across the world read. I welcome EVERYONE! YOU TOO!
I also invite and encourage you to comment and share with every body. Your views would be helpful (and quite possibly entertaining). If nothing more, say hello every so often to those who pay your bills (the taxpayers).
I think it is also important to acknowledge your presence, for all readers. I stand by what I write, even in the face of those I write about. Keep in mind: "if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem!".