Segdrick Farley had a toothache, but not $ 7.50.
It was the beginning of 2020. It took him several months to finish his 21 years in various prisons in Wisconsin. He was suffering — a lot of pain.He said about a week, he was making a request After being asked to receive treatment for his teeth.
“if you About toothache, he said, “It really hurts. I don’t want it to my worst enemy.”
He didn’t have $ 7.50 to cover the out-of-pocket costs of a prison medical visit, and he said his request to be seen was denied. Perhaps prison officials didn’t consider this toothache an emergency, but they did. He said someone told him he would act like he had fallen. Eventually, when the prison officer passed by, Farley lay on the ground pretending he couldn’t move.
“I had to take that dramatic step to get some medical care,” Farley said.
He was finally seen — about a week and a half after the pain began — But the pain was prolonged, as was the money he had borrowed for medical care.
Farley is not the only imprisoned person who is desperate for medical care and has no reliable way to pay for it. Out-of-pocket costs may not seem expensive, but advocates of criminal justice reform say that prison wages are low and that costs related to other issues such as telephones are rising rapidly in the dollar. Means
Farley comes from poverty.
Originally from Milwaukee, he spent the first eight months or so after being released from prison two years ago. He currently lives in Oakrea and is working on repayment, although the judge has determined that he has legal costs, damages, and other costs, as well as about $ 200 in medical debt from imprisonment.
“It drives you from here to the world, so it perpetuates poverty,” he said.
In some states, all medical expenses have been suspended during the pandemic. However, in Wisconsin, at the beginning of the pandemic, the State Department stopped paying for medical expenses for imprisoned people suffering from COVID-19 or other respiratory symptoms. That policy is still in place while other states are returning to pre-pandemic policies.
According to a February analysis of the nonpartisan prison policy initiative advocating termination, 10 states, more recently California and Illinois, have not claimed any copayments for imprisoned people. Mass imprisonment.
The same analysis points out two “unavoidable and dangerous consequences” of affordable out-of-pocket costs.Untreated illness may spread further Medical problems both inside and outside the prison, and untreated, can worsen over time and ultimately become more costly to deal with for the people in the prison and the taxpayers who fund them. I have.
Read more: Post-COVID containment: How a pandemic can permanently change prisons and prisons
Defenders of criminal justice reform are asking if Wisconsin’s policies should be furthered. In an interview with Wisconsin Public Radio, six previously imprisoned people praised the suspension, but the DOC has no out-of-pocket medical expenses, or at least the department raises the wages of the imprisoned people. He said the out-of-pocket costs should be more affordable.
According to state-by-state data collected by the Prison Policy Initiative in 2017, Wisconsin is one of the country’s highest prison health out-of-pocket costs at $ 7.50, but there are some exceptions to getting out of payment.
Interviewed people shared that it was worth $ 7.50 for imprisoned people who could pay nickel and a dime per hour. They got a glimpse of what it would be like to choose to pay for medical expenses, get toiletries, call home, or file documents for court appeal.
How much is $ 7.50?
Marianne Oleson knows that $ 7.50 doesn’t sound like a fortune. She is the Fox Cities Organizer of EXPO Wisconsin and stands for EX-Incarcerated People Organizing.
But before going to jail, she didn’t understand what $ 7.50 really meant to those imprisoned. In prison, she worked as a janitor and in the kitchen. She said her prison jobs she saw came between $ 0.19 and $ 0.33 per hour at best. Fortunately, she said her husband stood beside her and helped her financially, so she saw her fall on some women around her and her intolerable financial decision. I was able to escape from. Options: Should I buy laundry soap or see a nurse because I think I hurt myself?
“It was a difficult and painful choice, I think everyone in Wisconsin doesn’t want their mothers, daughters and sisters to do,” she said. “It’s a scary idea, and I’ve seen it happen many times.”
Farley, who worked as a bakery, cook, dishwasher, and janitor, said 60% of his salary was taken out for various legal costs and earned $ 8.94 every two weeks. Or $ 9.94 if he could get in some extra time.
“I barely receive peanuts to take care of myself,” he said.
Wisconsin law states that prison wages “provide uniform and fair compensation standards to encourage and enhance the behavior of positive prisoners.” According to state law, wages also allow people to buy goods from the canteen, save money after liberation, and improve their work skills.
Prisons can rank jobs based on the skills involved or the degree of responsibility and pay more or less depending on the ranking.
In 2017, the Prison Policy Initiative published an article estimating how much medical out-of-pocket would be if state minimum wage workers were charged at the same rate as those imprisoned. In Wisconsin, it was about $ 600.
EXPO director Dennis Franklin said he had to go through for $ 11 a month while he was in jail.
“”Can it put a person in a desperate state, as they can only afford basic cosmetics?“We’re not even talking about fun, we’re just talking about deodorant.”
And it can be scary to need treatment while in prison.
Franklin vividly remembers waking up on May 3, 2018, around 2:30 am with severe chest pain and dyspnea. He said he had repeatedly tried to ask a nurse or doctor to see him until he finally arrived at the hospital for an examination of inflammation of the inner wall of the heart. He finally got the medicine. But he said the whole process took too long.
“Looking back, it makes me angry,” he said.
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DOC spokesman John Beard said in an email that the prison provides prison residents with basic toiletries such as soap, shampoo, deodorant and toothpaste. He added that some people like well-known brands, with prices ranging from $ 0.11 for 3-inch toothbrushes to $ 8.85 for Ax brand shower gels and shampoos.
Proposed solution
Lamia Whiteside suffered from asthma when she was young. As an adult, he continued to relapse, sometimes requiring immediate treatment. Now, EXPO’s Associate Director looks back at the moment when he struggled to breathe during his 25 years in prison.
He is also thinking about prisoners who are experiencing chest pain and asthma attacks on their cells. Without selmate, it can take a few minutes for a guard or someone else to notice and get help. It is not always possible to scream or hit the door, especially when “each breath is important”. He said.
“”This is one of the most horrifying experiences I’ve ever had. Because if there is no one there to admit, support, or ask for help, I think you will die.“Mr. Whiteside said.
The DOC does not charge a co-payment for follow-up appointments “determined and scheduled by the healthcare provider”. Mr Whiteside said the policy and decision to stop some out-of-pocket payments during a pandemic is a commendable decision.
However, he said such a move suggests that the department has room to make the necessary policy changes.
“After all, the priority is the person’s health,” he said. “So it doesn’t make much sense to borrow them unnecessarily at your own expense.”
Beard, a DOC spokesman, refuses to interview someone in the department about his out-of-pocket policy, his decision to suspend, and why he chose not to suspend his out-of-pocket for all medical needs. Did.
Mr Whiteside said that what the “minimum” DOC should do is maintain the so-called COVID-19 long-haul carrier exemption. He also said he wanted to see greater flexibility for imprisoned people who were considered poor to receive care without having to cover the $ 7.50 out-of-pocket.
Melissa Rudin, regional organizer of the American Civil Liberties Union’s Smart Justice campaign in Wisconsin, said prison wages should be raised unless the out-of-pocket costs are reduced.
However, it can be difficult to build political support for the rights of imprisoned people. Appeals that took into account the economic implications of these policies could have gained bipartisan support.
According to a 2020 report to the Joint Legislative Audit Board, in fiscal year 2019, the DOC reported medical costs of approximately $ 32 million for hospitalization of the prison population and approximately $ 31 million for pharmaceuticals. And if imprisoned people skip preventive care because they cannot cover their out-of-pocket costs, it can lead to more expensive treatment later.
The DOC is responsible for “costs incurred in hospitals or clinics unless the detained adult is formally admitted by a medical facility”. ..
Franklin said it didn’t make sense for him to be prosecuted for medical needs because the imprisoned people were taking care of the state. But he admits the opposite argument. He said he could understand that he had to pay for such a service. It can help teach people about managing money and setting priorities.
He also said that, at no cost, imprisoned people could overwhelm the prison’s medical system, flood staff with many demands, and generally “abuse the medical services sector.” Considering. But he said those claims were “exaggerated and exaggerated.”
fear
Farley was still in jail for the first month or so of the pandemic. His teeth still hurt, but he was even more worried: prisons and prisons were particularly vulnerable to the outbreak of COVID-19. Through his work as a caretaker, he got gloves, a mask, and other things he thought he could keep him safe.
“I was scared,” he said.
Farley, who now runs a voting group called Brighter than Sunshine, left prison without being infected with COVID-19. But he was in the pandemic world 20 years later behind the bar.When he was released in early May 2020, he said it felt like this: He was in a zombie movie.
But that wasn’t a problem. He had freedom.
“My worst day here is better than my best day there,” he said.
He wanted his brother to be with him, even on the worst days. However, Alvin L. Simmons, 36, died in prison in March 2021 due to a COVID-19-related illness.
Read more: Planned protest at Green Bay Prison: “The building must be a historic site of some sort”
Farley was angry when Simmons got sick. He is still angry. He asks himself: Did his brother get the treatment he needed? What could have been done before his brother died in the cell?
He wants to make sure that those in prison receive the medical care they need and deserve it. He wants to be the voice of people he has never heard of. He often said that those who violated the law and made mistakes in life would pay for those mistakes in other ways.
“It turns into abuse of power,” Farley said. “I remember being afraid, and I just imagine how afraid my brother was. He was afraid. He was at the forefront of power. But I was afraid. I know my brother was afraid because he was. “
He felt helpless to his brother and wants to help others. He is still grateful for the support system he has. For those who accomplish it from prison, he does not want their lives to be upset by medical debt.
“You don’t want to go home with poverty and debt and start over,” he said. “I was fortunate enough to have great people around me. That’s the difference. Many don’t have it.”
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