Door 5316, Volume 3: Black Friday

Hotep,

Today is considered to be the biggest shopping day of the year.  Christmas shoppers are going above and beyond – competing for that #1 spot, at a department store nearest you.  The holiday season; I just love it!  Much like those diligent Christmas shoppers, I’m keyed in, on the potential for lower numbers as well.  Except my mathematical figures have nothing to do with slashed prices and holiday layaway plans.  Feel me?

In case you haven’t noticed, the first two posts of this particular series (Adopting to Any Circumstance Volume #1: Meet the Neighbors) may have been clouded with negative overtones.  I gotta admit; going under the knife, and then spending 24 hours a day inside a prison cell – as a means of recovery – can have a negative effect on the best of us.  But the holiday season has yet to fail me, in my 44 years of existence.  So, please allow me to share some positivity in the truest sense of the holiday spirit.

My blood pressure has been a major issue since I took residence in the prison hospital.  Within the two weeks I’ve been here, my blood pressure has reached an all-time high 0f, 163/115, with an arresting heart rate of 92.  I was officially in the red and the medical staff was watching a little more than then sign on my door.  Na mean?

My frustrations with the sign posted on my door and the display of deliberate indifference by a handful of unit 4 staff, played a minor role in some of my high pressure readings.  It’s funny (but it ain’t), because other than the pain in my left leg, I felt no discomfort healthwise.  I guess that’s why high blood pressure is called “the silent killer.” Who knew?

Speaking of pain; after a long talk with my physician, I was convinced that enduring the pain without the aid of pain medication, would play a significant role in my blood pressure going into the red.  When I told the doctor (I’ll call her “Dr. Truth,” because she gave me the real) that the consumption of narcotic pills is the reason behind my high readings.  Dr. Truth simply responded:

                “Mr. Mann, you do not have a M.D. at the end of your name.  I know you’re more familiar with your body than I am, but trust me; surgeries, blood pressure and medication is my playing field.  I’ll speak with the staff about their availability, but you have to take your meds.”

Since that conversation, my blood pressure has gone from 163/115, down to 120/66 and heart rate of 62.  Good look, Dr. Truth!” My health is returning to the black with mathematical figures that just can’t be beat.  Ya heard?

My mind has been so clouded with frustration I haven’t even taken the time to describe my living quarters to you.  Well, I’ve said before, this new prison hospital is high tech.  I mean, they could actually shoot scenes for “Grey’s Anatomy” in this piece and you’d never know the difference.  Real talk.

The cells are spotless – thanks to my man, Rocky, an old-timer who mops my cell every day, and shaves a good 5 minutes off my 24 hours and day behind door 5316.  That’s what’s up!!

Listen, you wouldn’t know this was a prison hospital if the doors were replaced with those carousel – like curtains.  There’s a shower in every cell’ most definitely to my liking.  And dig this; for the first time in 17 years, I actually get to sleep in a bed.  Not a cot with a steel foundation – connected to a concrete wall, but a bed that inclines and declines to my personal comfort level, and possesses more than one exit route.  Feel me?

North Carolina taxpayers should take pride in this multi-million dollar facility, although it contradicts their last multi-million dollar prison facility (Death Row, Unit 3).  This facility is designed to restore life; a healing place.  The other facility caters to taking lives.  Maybe we shouldn’t tell the taxpayers that I’m utilizing their multi-million dollar life restoring facility.  Sssshhhh!

Nuff Said,’

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Door 5316, Volume 2: Meet the Neighbors

Hotep,

As you should already know, my new housing assignment is cell 5316 – located in the prison hospital.  My Achilles heel surgery is approximately a week old; 6 days to be exact.  I’m still somewhat frustrated about the sign resting on the outside of my cell door, but night eventually turns into day.  The weight of that small piece of paper is decreasing as the scales of curiosity begin to prevail.  Who knew?

My mornings normally begin with a nurse coming into my cell – assisted by an officer of course – to take my vitals.  The pain medication spikes my blood pressure, so I guess its protocol for them to monitor that.  There’s not much conversation, other than a “Good Morning,” or “Thank You.”  To be honest with you; the room is normally filled with tension.  But today was slightly different.

At the conclusion of my vitals check, one of the staff members kindly asked: “What really happened?”  As bad as I wanted to share this experience of injustice – I fought off the urge to spill the real with a subtle request: “Can I have some more ice, please?” My request was met with a smile and a refilled pitcher of ice.  No hard feelings, just laying the foundation for future vital sign checks.  Na mean?

The occupant of 5315 is physically and mentally disabled.  I have yet to see him, but I hear his voice all day, and all night:  “Nurse! Nurse!” His heart monitor is gradually becoming a fixture of my consciousness.  Real talk.

The cat occupying cell 5317 has 4.5 months to go, on a 40 month sentence for writing bad checks.  I overheard him speaking with the unit case manager about his parole guidelines.  They even joked about his next checking account.  SMH.

Then there’s me; the resident in 5316, healthy, but temporarily hobbled.  Full of life, but trapped on death row.  SMH.  Three lives predestined to briefly encounter the others – yet all 3 face different transitions within our current existence.  Only the Creator knows the final outcome of our transitions, but I can feel my transition changing lives for the better.  Ya heard?

Seeing my parents yesterday was truly inspirational.  Despite the fact that our visitation arrangements were filled with administrative chaos, seeing their faces and hearing their voices affected me the way that that Aliyah joint, “Back and Forth,” does whenever I hear it; I just wanted to get up and dance.  Na mean?

My parents are constant reminders of what my transition means – not just to them or me, but the many generations to follow.  And I’m not about to let them down.  This W2TM journey is a moment I wish I could have for life.  So, some of my better moments will be dedicated to reading cases such as Michael Dale Rimmer vs. Tennessee.  And then there will be those rare occasions when the low moments of my life will cause me to utilize a Styrofoam ice pitcher as a basketball rack, and the ice cubes as the frigid penitentiary issues I face on the daily.  With the form and eye of a pure shooter, I’ll hoist those ice cubes (issues) into the toilet bowl, from my bed, one issue at a time.  Feel me?

Believe this:  my emotional highs and lows aren’t trapped behind door 5316 or any other door within this box.  These highs and lows fuel this medium of W2TM, to go far beyond this neighborhood of social retardation and will into the next millennium.

I’m out like the 3^rd strike.

Keep on Keepin,’

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

Joy to the World

Once again its that special time of the year where we celebrate our Savior’s birth!  Spending time with friends and family, reminiscing of all the good time of the past.  Of all the memorable Christmas cards, Nativity plays and snowball fights.  Yes, the Christmas season can be the most wonderful time of the year for many. 

As I contemplate on this year’s holiday season, I’ll take the time to commemorate and send my condolences to the Samuel family.  My brother “Mann of Stat” lost his Nana this summer.  She lived to the blessed old age of 96 years old.  This will be the first Christmas that her five daughters won’t be able to celebrate with their mother.  Her passing without a doubt left a big hole in their hearts.  My thoughts and prayers will be with them and all the grandkids this year!

I also will remember the men and women in the Arned Forces.  Many will be on a tour of duty in the middle east and other various parts of the world.  While many will be in military hospitals nursing and rehabbing various ailments they sustained in the wars.  Most will be spending the holiday away from friends and family.  Let’s not forget those who serve that we might have our freedom.

Our foster care system in the U.S. is filled to capacity.  May God allow this Christmas season to bestow some good on the children in foster care.  Most of these children only want to be a part of a loving home and a family they can call their own.  As you know the holiday can be really hard on them this time of year.  Feelings of abandonment and unworthiness can set in.  As you spend time enjoying your kids and loved ones remember they in your prayers.

Each day is a gift from our Creator!  Continue to cherish each day and special events like its your last; not taking any days for granted!  I wish all the blogosphere a very “Merry Christmas!”  Big ups to Rochelle and her family!  May good health and prosperity be yours in 2013 and beyond!  I would like to wish a “Happy Kwanzaa” to Mr. Ed and “D.”  True diehard Eagles and Sixers fans.  And I can’t forget my fam!  Keep your heads yo and stay strong.

As I close, keep in mind; God and fam is really all we have.  Let’s set aside our differences, today , so that we can be the positive ancestors of tomorrow.

Peace and Goodwill to All!!

Chris Gregory

Copyright © 2012 by Chris Gregory

Adapting to Any Circumstance

Hotep,

On the door of cell 5316, there’s a sign that reads:  “Leroy E. Mann #0255136, Death Row.  No one is permitted without at least one officer.”  It’s been three days since I underwent my second Achilles heel surgery (11/9/12).  This journey is much different from the first.  The prison hospital is my temporary place of residence and let me tell you; it ain’t no picnic.  Word is bond!

Last year, I spent a great deal of my post-surgery recovery downstairs, on Pod 4.  If you’ve read my “On the Move” series, you’d know that my number one qualm about living downstairs is the fact that it isn’t a sports conducive environment.  Well, that time behind the Plexiglas, on Pod 4 doesn’t seem so bad – compared to this.

I haven’t had a disciplinary infraction in more than six years, yet I feel as though I’m being punished for my current medical condition.  I’m on a 24-hour lockdown status.  I’ve encountered a staff member who refuses to deliver or pick up my food trays.  Another staff member who has been reluctant about issuing my pain medication – as if my condition is some type of scam.  The doctor has prescribed that I stay off my left foot for six weeks.  Where’s the scam in that?  SMH.

The sign on door 5316 doesn’t indicate that I’m basically bed-ridden for six weeks.  It doesn’t indicate that this is my second Achilles heel surgery in less than a year’s time.  This sign merely instructs them to fear the inhabitant of cell 5316.  “Proceed with caution” would probably be more fitting.  Na mean?

I’m not the type of person who envelops being feared.  I will embrace any form of adversity, but being feared works for me like this year’s presidential election did for Governor Mitt Romney; you can’t win.  Ya heard?

It’s been said that people fear what they can’t understand.  In my case, I’m learning that people aren’t even trying to understand, for fear of learning the truth behind the sign.  As they choose to do no more than their state job requires them, the fear of learning they may be looking into the face of injustice will do far more to their psyche than I could ever do to them physically.

Crutches aren’t allowed in the hospital.  Ironically, a therapeutic walker is simply unavailable, at this time.  I’ve been hopping around on my right foot just to handle the smallest of tasks.  I bypassed four doses of my pain medication just to avoid potential verbal confrontations with the staff.  The pain in my leg isn’t overwhelming, but I can definitely feel the damage of that sign.  Feel me?

The sign on door 5316 makes it difficult for me to receive any type of medical assistance if any available officers decide to become unavailable.  The medical staff will simply move on to the next phase of their job, without the least bit of concern about the inhabitant of cell 5316.  That small piece of paper outside the door of 5316 carries a lot of weight, but it doesn’t bear all of the facts.  Real talk.

So here I am, wounded and scarred as I read and write to the cadence of my next door neighbor’s heart monitor.  Right now, six weeks in these living quarters would appear to be unbearable.  The weight of my cast – along with the sutures accessorizing my left inner thigh and ankle – isn’t the only hurdle I must overcome.

1997 is the last time I’ve had to endure a 24-hour lockdown status.  It wasn’t due to a disciplinary infraction either.  My trial was on the docket and the county jail feared my reputation as a murderer.  For 7 months, I went without television, newspapers or any social interaction with inmates.  Six weeks behind door 5316 is just another accomplishment waiting to happen.  Ya heard.?

Keep it 100,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann

False Start

Hotep,

I think football fans around the globe would agree that the false start is probably the most frustrating penalty in the NFL rule book.  Think about it; the false start is indicative of a lack in continuity.  The anticipation of converting a 3^rd down, or the imminence of the big play; thwarted by a lack of cohesiveness.  Na mean?

This football analogy describes my feelings to the hilt, after learning the postponement of my Achilles heel surgery.  What was supposed to have taken place on 10/26/12 (“Pump the Brakes”) has now been pushed back to 11/9/12.  SMH

In prison, whenever sudden changes come about, no explanation is given without a prisoner’s inquiry.  There is a handful of staff members that will do their best to keep you informed.  But the majority of the people in authority will give you the company line:  “I don’t know, but I’ll look into it for you.” SMH

However, if you possess the patience to call their “I’ll look into it for you” bluff, you’ll get a response similar to this:  “I called the prison hospital, but I keep getting voice mail.  I’ll keep trying though.”  I mean, WTF?!  Someone is always available in the prison hospital; it’s a hospital!  How is there no open line of communication amongst staff?  Does that not strike anyone in the blogosphere as odd?

I understand that certain precautions must be taken when transporting prisoners – whether it is for surgery, court or the general transfers to other prisons.  An attempted escape is always the administration biggest concern.  I get that, but I’m not that man.  Real talk.

You see, I’ve got little to gain in comparison to everything I have to lose by attempting to escape.  I’m not about to jeopardize that for the convenience of short-term thinking.  Believe that?

Besides, where would I go?  Who would I run to?  If I were to flee from my present circumstances, every person I love would be left behind in my wake.  Just take a look at some of the beautiful people who frequent this W.O.R.D. to the Masses platform.  The harassment they’d be subjected to isn’t something I’d want on my conscience.  Feel me?

There would be a bounty on my head with the terms, “Dead or Alive” attached to it.  That’s not the type of freedom I’m looking forward to.  Good people are counting on me to prove my detractors wrong, ya heard?

Whew!! Forgive me if I’m coming off as a little too huffy.  The negligence of my health; my case; or my mail tends to spike my blood pressure a bit.  Your ear has been therapeutic to my plight, Blogosphere.  Asante?  I can exhale with ease now.

In closing, allow me to say this:  my form of freedom consists of me walking there American streets – far from the shadows of seclusion – with my head held high.  So, C’mon!  Let’s all get lined up; get on the same page and bring the big play to fruition.  The corrective surgery for my Achilles heel is my only agenda – concerning my upcoming travels.  There’s no need to call an audible; just run the play, people.  My freedom will come the same way I lost it; in court.  That’s what’s up!!

Nuff Said,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2012 by Leroy Elwood Mann