This letter was written by a person incarcerated at Pleasant Valley.
Again, the last thing I can afford is a write-up so that was what I was thinking and feared at that moment. So I followed directions like I was told, and dressed for transportation. All the way to the hospital I kept telling the COs that this was a bad idea, and I was being put at risk of catching COVID-19.
They just kept saying, “You’ll be alright”.
So, once we arrive, I did not feel right and I begged the COs to please don’t take me in there. But again, my pleas fell on deaf ears and they kept saying, “you’ll be alright, you’re just gonna get a TB test, and you’ll be out of there.” As we’re walk in to, I’m escorted into a room in the ER and I swear, it was a scene out of a movie.
There were people everywhere and it was packed. People were literally sleeping in the hall way, and make shift beds were side by side with plastic separating each person. It was both sad and scary all at the same time. So, I’m now in a back room with the two COs when a nurse who was nice and hella sweet came in and the first thing she asked was “what?”, and “why?” I was there.
When she finished reading my paper work, and realized what I was doing there, her jaw dropped, as she couldn’t believe that I was actually there for a TB test. Her exact words were, “you are kidding me, why couldn’t they administer the test at the prison?” My response was, as I looked at the COs was, “My words exactly?”
So, it was around 10 p.m. when I was admitted. I was put in a room on the fifth floor with what I believe was a zero pressure room. So, the first couple of days went some what normal, they kept drawing my blood, having me spit in a little cup for like three days straight.
The only good thing was that the food was hella good and it was the first time I had seen cable TV, specifically ESPN and FX.
It has been like 26 years since I last seen ESPN, so that was cool. That really helped me keep my mind off of the circumstance I was facing. I thought that I would be okay considering the fact that I had my own room but I was only being naive.
I had at least 10 people a day and night coming and going in, and out of my zero pressure room on the fifth floor. So there I was hoping and praying against all odds that I wouldn’t be exposed and have to fight for my life. It was not to be! On the day I was to be transferred back to PVSP, which was four days into my stay at the hospital.
