Medical Issues (Part 11 by Lifer Renee)

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.

Weeks pass by before I went to Medical again. I knew the results had to be bad. The saying on the yard is, “If you get a test and they do not call you back in, your test is negative. If they call you in before you request to go to Medical, there is something wrong.”
Today was testing that theory.

My appointment was for 9am. I went to work, and busied myself with the tasks at hand. Planning for an upcoming new hire. Finishing the first of many distance manuals I will create over the course of this year. Needless to say not much was accomplished. I thought the world was going to end when they called me for Medical at 9am. I rushed to lock my computer and get to Medical.

When I arrived there was already a line of 10 individuals. I really did not feel like waiting in line. All of my antisocialism came out. I entered the medical office, and asked Officer G, “Is there any way I can wait until the doctor is ready? I’m working right over at Televerde.”
“No. Who are you?” he barked. “Go sit on the bench. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”
Great, I thought. A whole 24 hours to sit and worry.

I noticed the pill call nurse was there, and I did not have my cup, so I walked to Televerde, not even three doors down, and grabbed my cup. I was gone for 45 seconds maximum.
Officer G saw me and screamed my name. “You’re getting a ticket for being out of area!” he barked.
“9:10am, you’re on report for being out of area!” he yelled even louder.
I hadn’t said anything and he was shoving my ID at me.
“Go back to work and you’re on report at 9:10am for being out of area!”
I wanted to get to the pill call window and get back to work before I exploded on this officer.
One more time he yelled, “9:10 am, you’re on report…”
I cut him off.  “I got it, but I have to get my medication.”
“You’re on report…”
Under my breath, I muttered, “God help me”
I took my medication, and returned to work with a disciplinary ticket.

Shaun Attwood

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