08 June 07

Shane Arrives at Yard 1

“I think I’m gonna die,” Shane said. “My heart’s beatin’ like crazy after pushin’ that cart fulla crap from Yard 4 to here.”
“Well,” I said, “you’re here now. Minimum. Your last stop before freedom. How short are you?”
“Four years. I get out in 2012…probably…like April, I think. If my federal appeal goes through I could be out in 2010.”
“So the Value Options case was dismissed?”
“Yeah, but I’m appealing it.”
“Are you suing anybody else?”
“Yeah, DOC and all of their medical people, over my hep C suit.”
“But they are treating you now?”
“I’m takin’ the medication. They started it about nine months after I began suing them.”
“What’s the meds?”
Shane pulled out a bag full of pills. “The main one is the Ribavirin capsules, and I’m takin’ a shot of peginterferon alfa-2a once a week every Friday. Also, they’re givin’ me vitamin K for my low blood cells.”
“How long’s the treatment?”
“Forty-eight weeks.”
“Will the hep C be completely cured by then?”
“Probably. There’s an eighty-percent chance. But right now the doctor’s tellin’ me I’ve got low red and white blood cells, and low platelets.”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I’m dying.” He laughed. “They’re killin’ me with their meds. It means don’t touch me, I might bleed out.”
“What does it really mean?”
“I’m anaemic.”
“You are starting to look like a proper pasty Englishman.”
“Orroight, mate,” he said with a grin.
“What psych meds are you on these days?”
“Just lithium. They asked me if I wanted to stop the lithium and I told them, ‘When I feel like being crazy again and hurtin’ myself I’ll let you know.’”
“Have you had any more spontaneous ejaculations since they guinea-pigged you on that other psychotropic med?”
“You mean Desipramine – no. The only side effect I’ve got now is I’m blind when I go out in the sun. I’m getting special glasses.”
“Sun City specials?”
“No. They’re the Chomo 2000s. I’m gettin’ the ones that turn dark in the sunlight and go back to normal in the shade. I’ll look all gangsterish when they get dark.”
“I can’t imagine you all G’d out. Are you staying focussed?”
“Not until I get my glasses?”
We laughed.
“Are you staying focussed on life, are you keeping your head together?”
“Yeah. I’m in college takin’ environmental tech. I now realise how easy it is to be an ecoterrorist. Anybody can put somethin’ in the water supply 'cause water-treatment-plant operators don’t go through background checks or anythin’. I finished the Men in Recovery classes and all the other classes they have here. I entered the Writers Digest contest this year. I’ve got people visitin’ me. I’ve got a Write A Prisoner ad up that’s received one response in five months.” He laughed. “And here I am at minimum security. Clearly I’m stayin’ outta trouble 'cause this is the lowest I’ve ever been.”
“Let’s hope you stay outta trouble.”
“Whatta you tryin’ to say? You plottin’ on me? I ain’t had my pysch meds tonight yet.”


Jon tells us what he has learned about himself during his incarceration.

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