William Wright - Maximum Insecurity: A Doctor in the Supermax

MAXIMUM

INSECURITY

A Doctor in the Supermax

W I L L I A M W R I G H T , M . D .

The people and events in this book are real. Since the characters sometimes lack a sense of humor, Ive changed many of the names.

Copyright 2013 William Wright, M.D.

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 1492895202

ISBN 13: 9781492895206

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013919324

CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

North Charleston, South Carolina

Dedication

To Mollie and the Fur People

TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

C olorado State Penitentiary squats like a brown toad on a sun-blasted plain of stunted pion and sagebrush, literally the end of the road. I hesitated before pressing the steel button of the main gate squawk box, hearing the raucous multilingual shouts from the housing pods even out in the parking lot. I clutched at my only weapona stethoscope. What the hell was I doing here?

This is the story of my odyssey from a comfortable career as a Midwestern ear surgeon to life as the sole physician for Colorados maximum security prison. It is an eyewitness account of practicing medicine among the states most violent and predatory criminals. I was not a visiting journalist with a notepad getting the spruced-up VIP tour. This was where I was to live and work.

After thirty-plus years as an ear doctor, I was bored. Burned out. Id seen it all, done it all, got the T-shirt, etc. I needed to do something different. I saw an ad from the Colorado Department of Corrections (CDOC) looking for doctors. This was different. It sounded intriguing, exotic with a hint of danger. I applied.

They were looking for general medical doctors. I was a neurootologist, a fancy name for a cross between an ear doctor and a neurosurgeon. If the medical mainstream orbits the sun, I was on Pluto. Desperation prevailed. They hired me.

My wife, much more sensible than I, balked at my announcement of a career change. Shes a very diplomatic woman, but the essence of her response was: Are you crazy! I had no good response to that. She was probably right, but I stuck to my decision to change. I let go of the trapeze and soared toward the world of correctional medicine.

Now that I had the job, I wondered if I could pull it off. I dimly remembered life as a general physician before I became a specialist. Sure. I could do this. I used to be a real doctor. The excitement and glamour of being a prison doctor beckoned.

What is the attraction of such institutions that draws us by the millions to watch reality shows about prisons and medical dramas? For the vast majority of us, the criminal justice system is something well never personally experience. Ending up in a supermax prison is even less likely.

Likewise, intimate acquaintance with the workings of medicine is usually something people try to avoid. Its all too alien and scary. Still, from a safe distance, were naturally curious about these other worlds.

Prisons fascinate us. Mystery, danger, violence, crime, life and deathall the things that make life worthwhile. Medicine is intriguing too. Doctors are modern high priests, working their miracles behind drapes of secrecy. Physicians have the mystery, life and death stuff down even if we come up short on crime and violence. Still, people watch crime, prison and medical shows on TV by the dozen, so it seemed a likely subject for a book when I became the doctor at Colorados supermax prison.

For those of you with the same fascinations, this is an opportunity to peek over the prison walls and into the life of a physician dealing with the most heinous people our society produces.

ONE

THE BOMB

A re you out of your mind? My wife, Mollie, set aside the half-dried dish, threw the towel into the sink and whirled on me. A prison? What do you know about prisons? Youre an ear doctor.

True, I said, backing up a step, but Im a burned-out ear doctor. I cant do it anymore. Im just slogging through the day on a chain gang. I belatedly realized that Id chosen the wrong metaphor.

My kids already knew I was nuts, but they were grown with families of their own. They didnt get a vote. Mollie, on the other hand, held fifty-one percent of the stock in our marriage. I had to convince the boss.

I just want to do something different. Maybe just for a little while. A few months. Consider it my midlife crisis.

I do.

I extracted the handcuffs from my back pocket and held them out, jingling. Could be fun.

Oh, please. she said, doing a 180 and grabbing the towel. Mollie spent the next few minutes polishing the same dish. I knew when to shut up.

She finally turned, wiping her hands. You really want to do this?

Yeah, I really do.

Just for a little while?

Well see how it goes.

That was six years ago.

A week in the training academy started my career as the newest doctor in Colorados maximum-security system. Located on the grounds of a Benedictine monastery in Caon City, the academy drilled me in protocol, time sheets, proper dress, and where to park.

I also learned that with no provocation whatsoever and at the slightest opportunity, any and all of these offenders would be pleased to slit my throat, rape me, or turn me into a drug mule. Weapons? These guys dont need any stinking weapons. They can disembowel you with a paper clip.

Oh, come on now, I thought. Who were they trying to scare? They showed pictures. I was scared. I didnt remember this being mentioned in any of the CDOC promotional literature.

The instructors provided reassuring statistics. The chance of being assaulted in a U.S. prison was only four times as likely as it was walking across the Walmart parking lot. That wasnt too bad, was it?

Not to worry, I thought, the guards would keep the bad guys at bay. Unfortunately, we had no guards. What we had were correctional officers or COs, and I found out I was one. Unwittingly, I had become a cop by accepting a job in the prison system. I was considered a law enforcement officer, and Id damn well better behave like one. I wondered whether this could get me out of a parking ticket, but thought it might be gauche to ask. Nobody suggested that I carry a gun.

As a matter of fact, nobody carried guns. What about all those TV shows with the steely-eyed sharpshooters prowling the catwalks waiting for someone to make a false move? Not here. CSP, which holds its inhabitants at the highest level of security, doesnt even have watchtowers. It looks more like an office building that had a budget shortfall when it came to installing the windows.

Next, the instructors informed us that the prison system had no inmates. Previously, they housed prisoners, cons or convicts, then inmates, but now held offenders. This didnt seem like much of an improvement on the dignity scale.

Like joining any large bureaucracy, I learned the mission statement. This consisted of several paragraphs that said, Treat the bad guys nice. Immediately following came indoctrination on how to avoid getting scammed, seduced, bullied, or killed in the process.

We learned Pressure Point Control Tactics, PPCT, the defensive control techniques designed to immobilize an assailant by attacking specific nerve points. The idea was to take down the attacker without really injuring him.

This is a good system when youre faced with daily lawsuits from offenders who would take a hangnail to the Supreme Court. However, PPCT takes a lot of practice to be effective. I had to master the techniques in a four-hour time window on the monastery front lawn.

I felt pretty confident since Id studied martial arts for fifteen years. It started out as a post-divorce guy thing, needing to dig myself out of a psychological hole with some physical activity. Id grown up seeing Charles Atlas ads in magazines and figured that learning how to kick sand in a bullys face might endear me to future females. I found that I really enjoyed it and went on to three black belts and two instructor certificates in tae kwon do and aikido. Now I was poised to add PPCT to the list.