This letter was written by a person incarcerated at Donovan.
No nurses have come to check on me since my celly was removed. No staff or COs have asked if I’m OK. It would be nice to have someone care. I am all alone and afraid.
I don’t know what will happen next. I might die and somehow I have to find a way to make peace with that or the fear itself might kill me.
I don’t want to get sent to the warehouse and I don’t want to infect people in my block so I’ll stay in my cell.
December 30, 2020: Last night I woke up and my sheets were soaked with sweat. It turned into an all night battle. The virus has moved into my lungs and I’m trying to remember not to cough. Don’t want to make it worse. Or cause perm damage.
December 31, 2020: I haven’t died. I think I’m through the worst of it.
The outbreak spread throughout my block like wildfire. Once people caught on that they would be sent to live in the warehouse, myself included, they stopped testing.
Day room activities continue and three times a day when inmates are released for meds, they shuffle through the sally port in a horde of sickness that continues to rage.
Day room should have been shut down.
Meds could have been delivered.
CDCR’S official reports probably say that it was shut down and they were delivered but I assure you such reports are lies.
I can feel it in my lungs and I’m dizzy. It feels alien and hostile.
January 1, 2021: Off and on cough with phlegm plus dry nose.
January 2, 2021: A man that was housed in the warehouse was moved into my cell today. I told him I have COVID before he came in. He said he does too.
I feel weak.
January 4, 2021: I can’t smell or taste anything. Life is cardboard and I’m always winded.
January 6, 2021: I want my senses back. Lungs feel diminished.
January 8, 2021: 18 of the cells in my block are empty. Two more people died.
February 10, 2021: Today I took the first of two Pfizer shots.
April 25, 2021: That’s where my journal entries ended. I went out to yard today and tried to run a lap. Made it halfway and then had to stop. Started seeing black spots, head pounding, can’t breath and my chest hurts.
This is the worst sickness I’ve ever experienced.
Thank you for letting me share. Please mention my name and publish this. Age 39 non-hispanic caucasian male.
Before COVID I weighed 198 pounds and could run five miles. Now I can’t get back up on my buck without getting winded. Though I refused to test while I was sick, I bet if x-rays of my lungs were taken and compared to x-rays from a year ago the proof would be in the pudding.
I don’t smoke and I shouldn’t get so winded. It’s been months and I still can’t smell.
