Covid Chronicles--Prison Edition; Surprising Gratefulness

 The last several weeks have been difficult as the coronavirus spread throughout MTU prison. As I have written about, chaos has been the norm, and lack of planning and communication has been a problem. For someone who generally has a glass-half-full mentality, it's been tough to stay positive. But this morning, I woke up feeling grateful. Perhaps it is the approaching holiday, but I'd like to think that I have just adjusted my perspective a little. Time alone to reflect can do that for me. 

You might wonder what there is to be grateful for in the midst of a pandemic racing through prison. I am locked up, after all, and I am powerless to protect myself from the virus. All of this is true, and many more negative things on which I could choose to focus. But it could be worse...much worse. 

For the last four-and-a-half years, I have been part of a college community in prison. I have formed deep and lasting friendships with other prisoners in the program, and we have formed a community, a brotherhood behind bars. When I first arrived to the program, I was surprised and blessed by the community I found. But familiarity breeds discontent, or it can if you let it. 

As our community experienced a breakup due to many moves, I (and other student-prisoners I have talked to) realized just how precious our community has been. It has been a nearly five-year reprieve from "normal" prison. I'm grateful for the opportunity to realize just how amazing I have had it for the last five years. I cherish the friendships I have formed, and I'm grateful for the example of how communities should work (even if imperfectly). 

This pandemic, and getting moved out of my cell, out of my housing unit and into another, was frustrating. But I'm also grateful that it offered me the chance to connect with friends I haven't spoken to or seen in a month or two, or hung out with for over nine months. I'm grateful that despite being moved, I have a cell to myself (for the time being). 

Having a cell to myself has afforded me the chance to practice my guitar unhindered until my fingers hurt each day. I have also enjoyed the quiet time to read, listen to music, study Spanish, and reflect on my life. My life has been busy the last five years, which I enjoy. But that busy-ness has meant less time for personal reflection. It has meant less time to think about what is next (after prison). I'm grateful for the time I've had lately to think about and (tentatively) plan for what's next. 

I'm also grateful that, although I did catch coronavirus, I suffered only minor symptoms. I've had flus worse than what I experienced. It wasn't pleasant, but it could have been much worse. Other prisoners here, including some I know, have suffered much more through their sickness. Sadly, one or two prisoners here (whom I did not know) have died. I'm grateful to still be alive. 

Although I went nearly ten days without access to daytime yard, I'm grateful to now be able to enjoy the sunshine, breathe fresh air, and begin to rebuild my endurance through exercise. A sedentary lifestyle is not for me. This down time has shown me just how crucial exercise is to good mental health. I'm grateful I enjoy exercising and that I am healthy enough to do so. 

This morning we received our first communication from the administration about what to expect in the days ahead. The administration is tentatively planning to partially open things back up (we'll return to the chow hall for meals, for example), on November 30th. I'm grateful for the anticipation of a return to "normal," whatever that may look like. Whatever it does look like, I hope I choose to focus on the positives. Waking up with gratefulness in my heart is much more pleasant than feeling anxious and frustrated all the time.

Covid Chronicles--Prison Edition, Chapter Two

 The coronavirus continues to spread throughout MTU. Rumor has it that all but fewer than 200 prisoners have now tested positive (out of roughly 1200). The administration continues to move prisoners around from housing unit to housing unit, ostensibly to put all the positive cases in certain units and the negative cases (and recovered prisoners) in other units. Avoiding lawsuits by appearing proactive seems to be the motivation for such moves, while in actuality the moves are spreading the virus faster throughout the institution. 

On Friday, six of us prisoners who had tested positive were moved from our unit to the "negative" unit, just 10 days after we tested positive. I still have a cough, stuffy nose, and no taste or smell. Apparently, I must not be contagious any more, though, since I was moved to the "negative" housing unit. We were not retested before we moved. It is unclear why we were moved. Nobody was moved into our emptied beds, so the moves appear pointless. As has been the case this entire pandemic, evidently nobody has a plan. Moves are haphazard, and prisoners are on edge, not knowing whether they will have to move (again) at any moment. 

When I moved I was placed in an empty cell, so I have no bunkie at the moment. I have unpacked just enough of my property to use what I need, but I anticipate another move back to my original housing unit within the next couple of weeks. When I was in the "positive" unit, we were allowed between 30 and 90 minutes of yard time right outside our unit, only at night. During the beautiful weather last week, we were not allowed outside at all or only for a short time at night. Now that the weather is back to cold and rainy, yard schedules have changed, and prisoners in each unit are allowed slightly more yard time. 

The disruption of a pandemic, as even free people know, is very frustrating. But we are making the best of it. Many prisoners are volunteering to help clean the housing units and pass out food. I've begun to exercise again, which feels great after weeks of being nearly sedentary. I have to build up my stamina again after so little movement for weeks. Although college classes are paused until we can go to the school building again, many of us college students have completed as much work as we are able. We're anxious to finish our semester, but we do not know what this pandemic delay will mean for the rest of the school year. 

Most of the prisoners who have been sick with the coronavirus have had mild symptoms. Most report a scratchy throat, cold symptoms, and losing taste and smell. Others, like me, have had slightly worse symptoms that include body aches, headaches, and a fever. A few have had bad symptoms, including dehydration, nausea, difficulty breathing, and chest pain. Some of these prisoners have had trips to the hospital, and according to reports one prisoner at MTU died from complications from the coronavirus. He was in my guitar class, although I didn't really know him. 

Someone asked me recently what the election results have meant in prison. I hear other prisoners talk about the election, but it's been hard to focus on anything but the sickness spreading throughout the prison. Some prisoners are happy about the results, and others are angry. But mostly, we just want to be healthy, get out of prison, and put our lives back together. Neither party inspires much hope in making that goal come to pass any sooner. 

Despite all the frustration we've experienced over the last few weeks, including the lack of communication and poor planning on the administration's part, I feel optimistic. Since so many of us have been sick, we expect that within a few weeks we will return to "normal" operations, that is, still under restrictions but back to regular movement within the facility. Perhaps this is too optimistic, but while 2020 has been an epic disaster in many ways, it is almost over. It's been a tough year with no visits from loved ones, restricted movement, no in-person college classes, abysmal playing by the Michigan football team, moronic pandemic management, and political chaos the likes of which many of us have never seen. Perhaps the New Year will usher in a new, new normal, one that leads to healing and joy again. That's what I'm hoping for.

Covidvirus Chronicles--Michigan Prison Edition

 Surviving a pandemic in prison is a tricky business. While Michigan's Governor urges people to stay at home in order to social distance, the nature of prison makes it impossible for prisoners to avoid exposure from others. Once the virus enters prison, it is inevitable that nearly everyone in that prison will be infected, no matter how careful we are to wear masks, wash hands, and avoid others. The small bathrooms alone, which serve 120 prisoners, are super-spreader events. 

We are now in our third week of the virus sweeping through the MTU prison. Hundreds of prisoners have tested positive for the virus. I am among the latest batch of positives. The following tells the tale of a day in the life of prison pandemics. 

November 2nd the prison shut down for virus testing. Testing goes quickly, but we remained locked down most of the day. I had what I thought was a sinus infection for two days, but that morning I had a low-grade fever. That night, I was up most of the night with severe chills, body aches, and a fever. I was convinced at that point that I was infected, so I stayed in my cell as much as I could. The next day things returned to quarantine "normal" with people milling about the unit. On November 4th everyone was locked down again as testing results had come back. Before we were told if we were positive or not, I told an officer I had been feeling ill. As a result, my bunkie and I were locked in our cell for the remainder of the morning (with a couple of bathroom breaks). We were told to pack all of our belongings since we would likely move. Those of us who tested positive were called to the dayroom in groups where we were informed we were positive. We were given a handout with symptoms (might have been helpful to have that before!), and we were promised supplements (vitamins) as a treatment. Two days later, less than a quarter of us have received those vitamins. 

Around 11 AM a captain came to the unit yelling at the 100+ prisoners who had tested positive to pack all of our belongings in ten minutes and bring them to the small yard. The captain said we were moving to temporary beds set up in the school. Several of us loaded our belongings on a trailer and had a short "hayride" to the school, where we were told we were not on their list and to take our property back to the unit. After waiting outside with our property for several hours, we were finally told to return to our cells without our property. Apparently, nobody in administration had a plan (even seven months into a global pandemic), so chaos and confusion resulted instead. Finally, more than eight hours after the captain first yelled at people to pack up in ten minutes (or else), we were told we were not moving after all. Now, those who had tested negative had to move, and more yelling and chaos ensued. The rest of us retrieved our property and were told we could unpack. My bunkie and I didn't trust those instructions, so we waited until morning to unpack. Since it took all day for the administration to formulate a plan, the same captain who yelled at people all day was back in our housing unit at 12:30 at night yelling at people to get their property outside (or else). Those who tested positive in another unit were moved to the school, the negatives from our unit were moved to that unit, and the next morning the positives in the school were moved (again) to our unit. It was a very chaotic two days. 

Today, my fever is gone, but I still have symptoms of a bad cold, body aches, and a headache. I feel like I'm on the upswing though. On another positive note, we've been receiving our meals in our cells each day, and the food service people have been the most consistent in the prison. The food hasn't been half-bad either (mostly). We even had scrambled eggs one morning, which I haven't had in several years. Too bad I couldn't taste them.