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Today, I was put on a call-out for a COVID-19 test. COVID-19 tests are like cell searches — very random for up to 30 people a day. I don’t mind. I want one because, last month, I fell very sick and lost my sense of smell for 20 days. 

People won’t believe how stressful it is not to smell. It’s horrible. I tried seeking medical attention, and all they did was take my temperature and say I was fine. I couldn’t believe it. I have asthma and was truly terrified. No one knows what it’s like to be sick and have to medicate themselves back to 100% efficiency. I’ve learned of a prison remedy that consists of tea, honey, lemon juice and garlic. It’s highly effective if taken regularly. I’m thankful to God I won that fight.

So I go for my COVID-19 test, and I’m directed to a waiting area that isn’t much bigger than a standard living room. Here, your life is gambled. 

I’m not the only one in this little room. There are close to 30 other people here, and no one can tell who is sick and who isn’t. There is no room for social distancing, so if one person is sick, all of us are exposed. We all wait in this room for almost an hour. 

I’m highly upset. They call all of us down here, and they haven’t started running the test, and when they finally do, the nurse doesn’t change her gloves after each test. I notice this first and respectfully ask her to change her glove before my test. She does so, but I wonder how many tests she did before changing them. I feel as if I’m cattle.

They are giving vaccines here as well, but only to staff and inmates over 55 years old. I can understand that for the most part. 

The rest of the population will get the option for a vaccine when more are available, but I’m still doubtful about it. I expect they will give us ultimatums like, “If we don’t get the vaccine, we can’t have visits” or something stupid like that. I want my visits, so if I have to, I will. 

They have taken everything from us here during the pandemic. They close visits when the officers and staff are the ones to bring the virus in here and infect us in the first place. They only allow us to send emails out to family and loved ones once a week, and they give us only one hour outside and only 15 minutes to make phone calls. 

Everything is up and running again except visits. Inmates are forced to go to school, work and trade shifts, but visits remain closed for reasons I do not understand. I’m currently enrolled in college, and I’m halfway to getting my associates degree in liberal arts. It’s not the same as in-person classes. We are given packages of work and instructions on how or what to do. The motivation isn’t there anymore, but I understand; the professors, aides and students don’t want to get infected. 

The hand sanitizers they have in certain locations around the prison are for us, but not cleaning them regularly forces people not to use them. When we did, it left a nasty smell on our hands, and it’s not disinfectant. This is a little game to the officers. They were told not to use them, so why are we using them, then?

Where is the sense in all of this? We are human, too. Not all of us deserve to be here, and we shouldn’t be judged by past mistakes. People change. Everyone deserves a second chance.

This piece was written by a Syracuse resident currently incarcerated at Auburn Correctional Facility.

Published on March 24, 2021 at 10:13 pm