On the Move: Volume 2

Hotep,

It’s been two weeks since I had surgery on my Achilles heel.  My surgeon, Dr. C. removed my soft cast today.  My recovery is ahead of schedule.  The mobility in my foot is exceptional and it feels better than 50%, but Dr. C. insists that I continue to make use of my crutches for the next 30 days.  Quiet as it’s kept; I’ve already started walking without my crutches, but that’s just between us.  Sssshhh!

The vertical incision on the backside of my ankle is approximately 4 inches in length.  The partially torn tendon was sewn into the mass of my Achilles heel and it took well over 20 sutures to seal the incision.  I can feel the tendon growing stronger, but I’m still experiencing numbness and an occasional stinging sensation near the incision.  Dr. C. assured me that the discomfort would lessen as the swelling subsides.

I was under the impression that I would be taking another outside trip to Duke-Raleigh Hospital for this follow-up.  To my surprise, the new prison hospital went all Grey’s Anatomy on a brotha.  It has been fully operative for more than a week, surgeries, MRIs, dialysis treatments, radiology, etc., etc., etc.  You name it, the new hospital is doing it.  It’s also a good hike from the death row housing unit.  I had to make the trek on crutches.  My triceps were on swoll when I finally reached the registration desk.  Real talk.  Needless to say, I was unable to experience the 4 shopping days til Christmas vibe, but the good doctor gave me something much better;  authorization to take a shower.  That’s what’s up!!

These last two week have been hectic without the privilege of running water cascading the length of my physical dimensions.  SMH.  Now, don’t get it twisted, your MannofStat was most efficient in his hygienic upkeep, but let’s just say that bathing within my cell while wearing a soft cast revealed my true athleticism.  Na mean?

In my last chronicle of this particular journey (On the Move Volume 1), I informed you that the 1^st floor is my temporary housing assignment until the doc clears me to negotiate stairs.  My second floor housing area (Pod 6) is occupied by 20 other residents.  In Pod 4 the occupants vary because it’s a lock-up.  Most disciplinary offenders serve their time on the upper tier of Pod 4.  The lower tier is occupied by 10 people; including me.  All of the cells are behind a Plexiglas partition.

I’ll tell you what’s crazy:  when I’m behind the door – watching a game – the Plexiglas partition catches all sound and bounces it right back to its origin.  I honestly have to say, I can be a very loud individual.  SMH.  I mean, Damn! I’ve really gotta get back upstairs.  Ya heard?!

Stay Tuned,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

A Tribute to Dr. King

Hotep,

This is a day in which we celebrate the life of a monumental figure, a man who spoke action and walked the walked.  Leaving his footprints in the blood-stained dirt roads of the south and he stood tall on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial to speak his dream to the masses.  The epitome of:  “No progress without struggle.”  Ya heard? 

James Baldwin once wrote, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” Racial injustice has been our cancer long enough.  Let’s stand as one and inject the antidotes that will sure our society.  Feel me?

Asante, Dr. Martin Luther King.  Your contributions have inspired me to stand tall when I feel I’m at my lowest.  I’m compelled to face what many believe can’t be changed, but I pride fully refuse to cower to the greatest of adversities.  Happy King Day, blogosphere.  I’ve spoken my peace; I’ll leave the rest to you Mr. Blue.

Keep on Keepin,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

A Tribute to Dr. King 

As we honor the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, on his birthday, we should not only reflect upon his contribution to civil rights and the African American community, but also on his impact upon human rights and the world.  Dr. King shined his light upon the dispossessed and disenfranchised people of all races.  He castigated injustice everywhere.

He is mostly noted throughout the world for his, “I have a dream” speech made famous during the 1963 march on Washington that resulted in the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibited segregation in public accommodations as well as discrimination in education and employment.  But, Dr. King was so much more than simply a man with a dream.  He was a man of super-human courage, conviction and an indomitable faith; Dr. King was a man of action.

Today, in the age of spin and political correctness sometimes we forget the harsh reality Dr. King faced on a daily basis.  He stood up and spoke out on loving his fellow man when hate was the order os the day.  He preached non-violence and the dignity and equality of all human beings and was investigated by the FBI, beaten by angry mobs and jailed.  He envisioned a day when all of creation could enjoy true brotherhood, while receiving thousands of death threats.

Dr. King was fully aware of the threats on his life, but he recognized that his noble purpose was greater even than his own life.  He made the ultimate sacrifice for an ideal of a better world.  He believed in the goodness of humanity, his faith never wavering even as a bullet slammed into his brain ending his life.

His spirit – his legacy lives on.  Dr. King blazed a trail.  He was the face of the American Civil Rights Movement of the 1960’s.  However, ironically it wasn’t until he revealed plans to organize a “poor people’s” march, one that transcended race, that he was assassinated.  Dr. King was a universal icon.  Happy birthday to you.

A memorial was recently erected to Dr. King on the National Mall in Washington D.C.; the first non-president to be so honored.  That’s a very cool thing.  We’d do so much better to honor this great man of action with our own actions.  Sadly, the day Dr. King envisioned has yet to arrive.  Memorials, speeches and accolades are all very nice things, but to truly honor Dr. King, we should follow his example.  We can all make a difference simply by extending our hand in true brotherhood to our fellow man.

Mr. Blue

Copyright © 2012 by Paul Brown

On the Move

This picture will be updated

Hotep,

For months, I’ve been concealing the fact that my strained Achilles tendon was a misdiagnosis. The last time I spoke about my condition, I was using my city as an eponym for my corrective boot. We’ll “Philly” was not an adequate solution for a partially Achilles tendon. To say the least, it’s been a painful experience. Maybe not as painful as watching my Philadelphia Eagles this year, but my left heel is a definite benefactor of some unnecessary roughness. SMH.

Many people read this blog. I felt that it was in my best interest to hold off on the surgical particulars until after the deed was done. Some blood-thirsty detractors would claim that my surgery is a waste of hard earned tax dollars. The irony of that logic is sadly amusing: If you’re concerned about wasted tax dollars why would you support a death penalty swarmed by uncertainties? The use of faulty crime labs and the dishonesty of some politicians have been burning tax dollars long before my Achilles tendon was in need of medical assistance. Na mean?

On the morning of 12/6/2011 I was escorted to the receiving area of the prison. There was a cat in a wheelchair that resembled R&B crooner “Jon B.” He was being processed for release. He was so excited about going home that he naturally assumed I was being processed for release as well.

Jon B tried to disguise his shock with optimism when I told him I was on death row. I’m sure if he hadn’t been bound to a wheelchair he would’ve taken a couple of steps backwards. “Don’t give up man. You’ve got a lot of people fighting for you.” The departing words of a cat that may never cross my path again. As I watched “Jon B” roll out of that prison holding cell and back onto the streets, I thought out loud: “Damn. With or without feet, being on the move is ever-so-sweet.”

I was shackled in full restraints and taken to Duke-Raleigh Hospital by 3 C.O.’s. The medical staff was accommodating, making me feel comfortable and speaking to me like a person, not a prisoner. Asante, nurse Lois.

The whole process was simple: I checked in, put on a gown and went to sleep. Then I woke up with a soft cast covering my left foot. I hadn’t eaten all day. It was well after 5pm when the anesthesiologist offered me some ginger ale. Ahhhh! My favorite soft drink.

I literally rolled back into unit 3, death row housing unit in a wheelchair. Still groggy from my previous comatose state, I was quite agitated by the sergeant’s refusal of me returning to my 2^nd floor housing area. In hindsight, I can’t blame him for taking extra precautions concerning my surgical procedure. Walking up and down 3 flights of stairs wouldn’t be conducive to my condition. Na mean?

All of my personal belongings on Pod 6 were transported downstairs to Pod 4. I’m able to get around much easier, but I’ve grown accustomed to being around Bigg Dogg, Dushame and Smoke Digga. A majority of the ball players are upstairs and the college and basketball seasons are just getting underway. Feel me?

I’ve been on crutches 3 times since I’ve been in prison. Basketball has been a bittersweet experience inside this box. Although the sport has temporarily crippled me, it’s also a motivating factor in my recovery. The doctor says I should be on crutches approximately 6 weeks. Imagine that! I’m already on the move. Ya heard?

Much Love,

MannofStat

Copyright ©2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann