Renee – Only a
teenager, she received a 60-year sentence. Sixteen years later, Renee is
writing from Perryville prison in Goodyear, Arizona, providing a rare and unique insight into a women's
prison.
ADOC
Medical and I are at a standstill with my earaches, headaches, sore
throat… They are still insisting it is
allergies. I received two rounds of
antibiotics finally, but I still have the same symptoms.
I’ve
also been fighting with Medical about the severe pain in my neck, left shoulder
and back. Finally, when I was one step
away from beginning the grieving process, I was sent out for an MRI. The wait
was slow. Sitting at the V-gate, a million thoughts rolled through my mind. Stripped out then searched before I was
loaded up into the transportation van, I realised it’s been 17 years since I’ve
been outside of the prison gates for anything.
For
the MRI, I was to be transported to a doctor’s office in Mesa. I do not even know where Mesa is. At the
Northgate, the officers checked my face to ID one last time. The van pulled
up to the front of a building. The officers got out of the van. It seemed as if
all my senses were at their height. The officers returned from the building, loading
guns, counting bullets. My mind had visions of a cheery B-rated prison movie.
All you could do was laugh. The drive was approximately 50 minutes. I watched
the cars, taking in all of the scenery as if it were something magical.
We
finally arrived at the doctor’s office, and I realised there was no back door
to enter. I had to step out of the van in orange prison clothes, belly chains,
handcuffs and shackles in front of everyone as mothers pulled their children
closer and people gawked with disguised looks on their faces.
Nice,
I thought to myself.
I
was shuffled to a small room, asked to fill out paperwork, and waited quietly.
Finally,
they called my name. My first name:
Renee. It took me a moment to digest this as I’m so used to being referred to by
my last name. The technician extended his hand to shake mine. Again, I was
startled as prison Medical staff would never do that. The
technician advised the officers to remove the shackles and belly chains in
order for me to have my MRI.
I
was scared. I knew it was not going to hurt. I just knew something was wrong
and I was about to find out. As the technician was telling me about the MRI,
“You have to lay completely still, and if you need to come out squeeze the ball,”
was all I heard. I continued to look at the officers standing so close to me
and the MRI machine it was ridiculous.
The
technician placed earplugs in my ears, headphone-type things on my head, and put
me in the head restraint. My head was pounding wildly. They slowly slid me into
the machine. The last thing I saw were the officers watching me. I listened to
the beeps, blasts and whirling machine noises for God knows how long.
Periodically,
the technician asked, “Rene, how are you doing? We’re almost done.”
Around
the time I was about to freak out, the technician began to slide me out. My first
sight was the officers. As soon as I was up and out, I was again placed in
restraints. Emotionally, it was too much.
The technician was not permitted to give me any results. Again, the
results had to be sent to ADOC for the prison doctor to give me them.
I
was shuffled back to the small waiting room. As soon as everything was
complete, they paraded me in front of the public again. I was loaded back into
the van, and drove back to the prison. I returned to my room emotionally
spent. Again, I waited…
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