The Trauma Never Stops

Yesterday, I got a short email from Tom saying, "COVID has hit the camp. I might have to go into quarantine". That was it. We knew that if he had to go into quarantine for whatever reason, it would be likely that he'd just drop out of communication. Disappear like he did when he first went in. Because the staff wouldn't allow him to make a call to me to tell me what was happening. So we arranged beforehand for me and a couple of other inmate's family members to be in contact. That way, they could get word to me, or I could get word to them if something like this happened.

So when Tom didn't make his usually 11:00 a.m. phone call to me, I knew something was up. I got a phone call from one of the wives telling me that Tom and three other men had tested positive for COVID and were being put into quarantine.

Up until now, I haven't been overly concerned about COVID. I know that about 98% of people who contract it survive it. I'm prepared here at home with the meds we need and there are monoclonal antibody infusion clinics all around that we would have access to. My fervent prayer was that Tom would not get the virus while he was in the prison because the prison will not care for him properly.

All of Tom's CARES Act paperwork is done and is scheduled to be reviewed and approved at tomorrow's staff meeting. The case manager claims that it then has to go to a committee in DC to be approved by them. Since he was already approved previously, we didn't see a problem with getting it approved again...except for the completely arbitrary and diabolically cruel BOP system that might reject it for any reason or no reason. So I was looking forward to that and to getting a date for his release. I don't know what effect, if any, this diagnosis will have on that process. It seems to me that they would go ahead with it. And since he has to quarantine before being released anyway, this quarantine could serve as his exit quarantine and he could come directly out at the end of it.

Having Tom diagnosed in the prison was a blow that I didn't feel like I was going to survive. The terror of the unknown is unbearable. Tom could be one of those who gets a serious case. He could be one of those who will die from it. Especially since he will not be treated until or unless he is seriously ill.

I called the prison and was finally able to talk to someone in medical. She refused to tell me anything about Tom. When I asked what the protocol was in general, she proudly told me about their "monitoring". There is no early treatment. They "monitor" until the inmate is sick enough to warrant some kind of intervention. She wouldn't tell me at what point, or what they would do at that point. Monitor is all they get. I guess they monitor them until they're sick enough to be rushed to the hospital where they let them die because the government has banned the meds that really work.

I called again today trying to get an update on Tom. I spoke with the unit manager, who is the boss of the unit Tom is in. She also would tell me nothing. She was clearly angry that I knew that Tom tested positive. She wanted to know how I knew. I wouldn't tell her because of possible retaliation against the inmates. But I asked her, "Would y'all have told me?" She would only say that they have a policy they follow if an inmate is "sick" and that I would be notified. So I said, "So if he's sick, then you'll tell me. So that must mean he's not sick yet." She did reluctantly confirm that. I asked how they would notify me, by mail or a phone call? She told me they would call me. So now I live in dread of a phone call from the prison telling me that Tom is sick.

I asked were they going to let Tom call me, that I really needed to hear from him. Her answer was that he is in quarantine and will not be allowed any phone calls. Period.

So, the quarantine is going to be 21 days, so they say. That's 21 days that I will not be able to talk to my husband. 21 days of no email contact either. 21 days of not knowing how he's doing unless he can get some letters out to me. He went into quarantine with just a few stamps that another inmate had loaned him. I explained the stamp situation here.

The prison is scrambling to deal with this. The information I've received from my illicit grapevine is that Tom and the three other men are being quarantined in the chapel, which is a small metal building next to the barracks where he lives. I've only peeked in the window of the chapel as I passed it. The room was about 20 x 20 from what I can remember. It has one or two windows. So thank goodness he's not in a small cell in the main facility with no window like he was last time. And he has the other men with him. I have no idea yet if there is a toilet or shower in there or what provisions they will make for them. I can only wait for Tom's letters and hope and pray that he doesn't get "sick".

Today Is a Day for Despair

I visited Tom today. It was the third time I've gotten to visit. Each time is a thrill to get to see him, but the leaving is so difficult that it's almost not worth going, except I wouldn't miss it for the world. Visiting is no touching. Wear a mask. Sit in a chair with a big plexiglass barrier between us. Can't converse without sitting with our faces pressed up to a gap between the barriers. Even then it's very difficult to hear. Other inmates with their visitors all around us talking loud so they can be heard through the barrier.

The two previous times I visited, I was scheduled for noon. Today I was scheduled for 8:30. I had to be there at 8:00. My drive time is three and a half hours, so I got out of bed at 3:00 after having not slept more than a couple of fitful hours. I left at 4:00 so I'd have time for a couple of bathroom breaks and to get some breakfast - not that I wanted to eat, but so that I wouldn't be weak and sick.

I arrived home around 1:50. I need to be taking a nap.

This is what despair feels like. I'm exhausted, but can't sleep. I'm starving, but can't eat. I want to be strong and have a can-do attitude, but I'm not, I don't. I don't even know what my body wants or needs at this point. It doesn't do what's normal. I'm weak and shaky from not eating, but sick when I eat. I'm dropping from exhaustion, but can't shut my mind off so I can rest.

Yesterday a fellow Christian posted something on FaceBook about Christians not wanting to be submissive to government authority because it's too hard. It goes against our nature as Americans. The message that came across to me was that we're bad Christians if we don't meekly submit to every evil whim of the government. I shouldn't have read it. My response was that my husband is currently a political prisoner in a federal prison. He submitted to the authorities even though he committed no crime, as did I when I was indicted, arrested, and jailed. So I don't think I need a lesson in submission today. 

CARES Act for Home Confinement

Today I'm just writing about current events. No flash backs.  I just had an old goat die out in the pasture. Thankfully, my good neighbors -- who came over yesterday to sweat over my lawnmower maintenance and put new spark plugs in it because it was getting ready to quit on me -- came over again today to drag the dead goat into the woods for me.  It put me in mind of the last time I had to dispose of a dead goat while Tom was out of town.  Looking back on it, it's kind of hilarious.  Maybe some day I'll find this day hilarious....not likely. 

Okay, that's not my main topic. That's just one of the joys of living single on a farm. And thank goodness for neighbors!

What I really want to do is explain the early release program that Tom is eligible for. It's called the CARES Act and is part of the COVID relief program for prisons.  It allows for certain, nonviolent inmates to be released to serve out their term in home confinement.  Lest anyone freak out that "CRIMINALS ARE GETTING OUT OF PRISON!" just simmer down. Here are the discretionary factors that the BOP officials have to consider:

(1) The age and vulnerability of the inmate to Covid. So, like, if they're 60+ or have other comorbidities that make them more susceptible to Covid. Tom fits the category because he's 60 and he's had pneumonia twice before.

(2) The security level of the facility, with priority given to inmates residing in low and minimum security facilities.  Tom fits this category because he's in the most minimum security he can be in, a satellite camp.

(3) The inmate's conduct in prison with violent or gang-related activity making the inmate ineligible.  Tom has no violent or gang-related record.

(4) The inmate's PATTERN (this is how they score the inmate's crime and behavior) score with anything above a minimum score not receiving priority.  Tom's score is in the negative numbers, so also as low as you can go.

(5) The inmate has to have a verifiable re-entry plan that will prevent recidivism and maximize public safety, including demonstrating the inmate would be at lower risk of contracting Covid in home confinement than he would in the facility.  Tom is eligible here because he has a home to go to that is isolated from the public if we need to isolate.

(6) Sex offenders and other serious offenses weight heavily against the inmate.  A no brainer here.

So since Tom has an 18 month sentence, the rules say that he has to serve 25% of his sentence.  [The percent is different for different sentences.  I don't even know how they come up with that.  It sounds like something completely arbitrary.  It's like they're sitting around and one guy says, "How much time should they serve before they're eligible to not get COVID in prison?" Another guy says, "Hey, how about 25%!". And they agree, "Yeah, that sounds good."]  For some reason, the first week they go into the prison, they automatically accumulate their time off for good behavior days.  They have some kind of way to calculate that.  And I suppose if you're a bad boy, they take away good behavior days.  So Tom automatically had 80 something good behavior days and those are supposed to count as time served.  It's weird and confusing. But suffice it to say that he will have served his 25% and be eligible to be released for home confinement on September 12, 2021. That's in less than two weeks. Which I would be super excited about if I thought for a minute the BOP would move as quickly as I would.

His case manager has prepared the paperwork and it's ready to go to the review panel for (hopefully) approval. Although, she set the release date forSeptember. I'm not sure how she calculated it to come up with that time frame. However, they also have to get approval from the probation office who will supervise him in his home confinement. They don't move very quickly either. And I found out today that the request has not even been made yet.  So we've been waiting all week to hear from the probation office, but they don't even have the request.  It's things like this that will drive you insane.  I've been on the phone for a long time today trying to figure out what needs to be done.  And this is a holiday weekend, so the person that needs to take action didn't come into work today.

Seriously, you have to stay on top of things to get anything done.  And even then, nobody has any sense of urgency.  You'd think if they were actually trying to prevent COVID in prisons that (1) they wouldn't put people who are eligible for home confinement in the prison in the first place, and (2) they would have a sense of urgency to get them out of there as quickly as possible.  But, no.  And the BOP doesn't even have to approve the request.  They do deny some even without a reason.  Praying, praying that they approve Tom's request and quickly.