Prison medical department
Today I sit in the waiting room of the medical department. I just sat down, when I was told that a friend of mine, Bob, had just died. I have known Bob for many years. He was a guy that always had a joke. I bet he is telling one now at the Pearly Gates, trying to laugh his way in.
I am here today in medical, to find out if my surgery for a hernia has been scheduled yet. I try to stay in shape by working out daily, but that’s hard, when I suffer with this pain. A pain I have been trying to have corrected for over 2 years.
Life in prison has it’s highs and lows. Sitting here waiting is one of the lows.
As I sit waiting, I look about me at the ill, some very ill. Some have this blank expression on their face. I know, and they know it’s just a matter of time. At each prison I have been to over the last 2 decades, many have died. At one prison I quit counting at 15. Men and woman die, sitting, waiting, just as I sit and wait today. We wait because the federal system does not have any money. No money because too many of us, sit and wait.
Getting to an outside hospital, or clinic is hard, one has to be near death.
I wish not to be near death. I wish to be treated as a human being. I wonder, if I growl like a beast, will they treat me quicker, or will I just sit and wait.