If there is one thing certain about prison life, it’s that not everyone gets out alive...
Some die in prison, never making it to the end of their sentence. While others are serving sentences of natural life where there is no set day for freedom. Still a far greater majority, however, do have scheduled release dates, provided they live long enough to reach them.
And yesterday the truth of this came to pass. During the standard six o'clock morning headcount, the officer who was conducting it came across a man who was still lying on his bunk when he was making his rounds. The inmate was supposed to be fully dressed and standing at the front of his cell with his overhead light turned on. This is a procedure that's carried out in order to verify that every prisoner is alive and well and did not escape during the night. The count is conducted daily, even on the weekends.
Unable to awaken the prisoner, the officer called in a "medical emergency." Within minutes, other officers arrived along with several nurses from the facility's trauma response team who brought their equipment with them. When the inmate's cell door was opened, the nurses immediately began to administer cardiopulmonary resuscitation, more commonly known as CPR.
I watched from the front of my cell as the nurses frantically began working on their patient. One of them gave him an injection of Narcan,* while another nurse was steadily pumping his chest, even as the guards were trying to lift the prisoner off his bunk and onto a stretcher. But he remained unresponsive.
Finally, they were able to secure him onto the stretcher, and off they went, headed for the Infirmary. But even as they rushed along, the one nurse who'd been doing chest compressions continued to do so. I could tell it was a challenge for her, having to run alongside the patient while trying to stay balanced as she continued to pump his chest. She was definitely determined to save him.
Later, I would find out the news. He was D.O.A. He probably passed away in his sleep. A fellow convict who knew him told me he was about fifty-five years old. He'd been in prison for a while, although he was new here at Shawangunk.
The incident has been the talk of the facility, and it will probably remain so for the rest of the week. All I could do was to pray for his family. I cannot imagine what they're going through now since getting the unexpected call from one of the prison's chaplains, that their loved one has died.
D.B.
*Narcan is a drug used to offset the negative effects of a narcotic such as heroin or other addictive
drugs such as opioids.
And yesterday the truth of this came to pass. During the standard six o'clock morning headcount, the officer who was conducting it came across a man who was still lying on his bunk when he was making his rounds. The inmate was supposed to be fully dressed and standing at the front of his cell with his overhead light turned on. This is a procedure that's carried out in order to verify that every prisoner is alive and well and did not escape during the night. The count is conducted daily, even on the weekends.
Unable to awaken the prisoner, the officer called in a "medical emergency." Within minutes, other officers arrived along with several nurses from the facility's trauma response team who brought their equipment with them. When the inmate's cell door was opened, the nurses immediately began to administer cardiopulmonary resuscitation, more commonly known as CPR.
I watched from the front of my cell as the nurses frantically began working on their patient. One of them gave him an injection of Narcan,* while another nurse was steadily pumping his chest, even as the guards were trying to lift the prisoner off his bunk and onto a stretcher. But he remained unresponsive.
Finally, they were able to secure him onto the stretcher, and off they went, headed for the Infirmary. But even as they rushed along, the one nurse who'd been doing chest compressions continued to do so. I could tell it was a challenge for her, having to run alongside the patient while trying to stay balanced as she continued to pump his chest. She was definitely determined to save him.
Later, I would find out the news. He was D.O.A. He probably passed away in his sleep. A fellow convict who knew him told me he was about fifty-five years old. He'd been in prison for a while, although he was new here at Shawangunk.
The incident has been the talk of the facility, and it will probably remain so for the rest of the week. All I could do was to pray for his family. I cannot imagine what they're going through now since getting the unexpected call from one of the prison's chaplains, that their loved one has died.
D.B.
*Narcan is a drug used to offset the negative effects of a narcotic such as heroin or other addictive
drugs such as opioids.
