Sagepaper

I went to Ohio and met Timmy at the prison when he was released on August 5. I injured myself by wrestling a rolling carry-on suitcase up a flight of stairs. The injury masked the pain of a ruptured cyst. Though in great distress while in Ohio, it wasn't until I returned to Georgia that I went to an E.R. I take a lot of narcotics for pain, but the physician in the E.R. was unable to assess me because I was so tightly curled-up, and so tender. She worked with my pain management specialist to try to safely administer additional meds so she could examine me. They used a lot of Dilauden, and then some more stuff. I was still pretty miserable, but able to cooperate and straighten out better.

I later learned that Dilauden is the closest thing to heroin that is medically available. I guess that is part of why the staff got so upset when I felt well enough to hobble outside for a cigarette. I was not supposed to be able to function, let alone still be in serious pain. I know, this is whining, but I was in bad shape. That is not a habit I should foster, though.

I ended-up with such a heavy load of narcotics, on top of some constipation from travel, that my gut shut down. The following days at home, alone, were dark and dangerous. I was impacted pretty far up, evidently in multiple locations. Standard remedies were ineffectual. I would not have survived were I not a martial artist. I was able to relax my abdominal muscles fully (despite "guarding"), endure the added, self-inflicted pain of reaching in past the muscles, using my fingertips in a knife-like fashion (as opposed to using the outside of the hand for a knife), to break one fist-sized, rock-hard impaction into three pieces. I broke-up other, smaller ones as well.

When my guts did finally recover some motility, they actually seemed undecided about which way to move the food. I wouldn't have guessed there would have been a choice other than down. At one point, I began to build some gas pressure, but fairly high in the small intestine. I could see that could be disastrous, and managed again to save my own life with a palm-full of Beano, which I used as an enzymatic. I did not want to take too much and lose bulk for movement. I just needed enough to stop fermentation. After that, my gut again shut down. I had acetylcholine, but feared the other general effects if I took enough to jump start the motility again. I instead used a small overdose of nicotine, which I could readily control by using some gum I had on hand.

Meanwhile, Timmy needs a lot of help from me. Although I have been seriously limited by illness during the last three weeks, I have been tickled so far with the value of my involvement, especially during the time leading-up to his release. The Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Corrections is very familiar with Clermont County, where my friend was charged and sentenced. They know something is seriously wrong there; they can see it in the statistics. They just do not know exactly what the problem is; they cannot quite figure it out.

I have been providing them with "insider" information explained so an "outsider" can understand it. Perhaps some good will come of the lonely life I have led, standing in two very different worlds at the same time. (I think that is a plight which might best be understood by first-generation Black college students.) Timmy is my priority, but I want to help him in a way that best helps other Appalachians as well. I have had the pleasure of working with two men of good character at the Adult Parole Authority; they seem to have been deriving benefit from our lengthy phone conversations. I have felt self-conscious about taking-up their time, but they have kept asking questions. I have the impression I have been a useful resource to them.

My family and I will be investing in legal help for Timmy to try to get his conviction overturned. The flaws in his case are legion. While ensuring a good outcome for him, we would like to choose the issue (or set of issues), which will lay down the best case-law for others.