Nurses provide care to prisoners

Nancy Webster didn’t want to spend her life as a housewife, so she went to jail.
She went by choice and for pay as a nurse, that is.

The small, white-walled nursing office is graced with two rooms that look as if they belong in any doctor’s office. Computers line the walls, and large binders with treatment information are passed among those working.

There are three cameras trained on them at all times. A huge cart full of medication for each hall, or block, takes up a good amount of space between the computer desks.

The Eighth Amendment guarantees federal, state and county prisoners a right to proper health care, according to a Journal of Nursing Law article written by Victoria A. Kellogg, Ph.D., CRNP, MBA.

Jail nurses play a huge part in this as the health care needs of prisoners continue to increase, according to the article.

Here, an average of four nurses per shift, three shifts per day, congregate to decide how to take care of prisoners at the Allen County Jail.

Dr. Richard Horstmeyer visits the jail Monday through Friday to respond to changing needs for medication or treatment. The rest of the time, it’s the nurses’ call.

And it isn’t always easy. On Thanksgiving Day, several of the nurses were visibly upset when they heard a particular prisoner, who had just been released, was back.
Dawn Farrell, one of the nurses, treated him and said he made grabs for her several times until a correctional officer stepped in.

“I want to stab his hand with my pen!” she cried out in frustration.

When the prisoners are first brought in, a nurse takes them one by one into a small, private room to ask basic health question and assess treatment needs.

“We’re alone in there with them,” Farrell said. “But there are guards just outside.”
They are then kept in holding cells on the first floor for up to 72 hours, after which they are either released or assigned to a block.

Nurses are expected to take the medication cart to the blocks to pass out medication several times per day.

The medication pass is nerve-racking for the correctional officers as well. Melanie Dager, a correctional officer, was watching over blocks  X, Y and Z on Thursday, where the female prisoners who behave badly are kept.

“They steal, fight, horde their medications,” Dager said. “These blocks are usually pretty full. They don’t have good impulse control and almost no support from the outside.”

At 3:30 p.m., Webster and Carol Patton, a Qualified Medication Aide, called the correctional officers to bring prisoners to the nursing office for
treatments.

“We see gunshot wounds, boils, finger cuts, paper cuts, black eyes, split lips from
fighting,” Patton said. “Lots of blood, but you just clean them up.”
The women come first, escorted by the correctional officers and followed shortly by the men.

Naomi had a cut on her knee from falling on broken glass. Nicole, three months pregnant, was crying because she had been bleeding. Jason, who was recovering from surgery, was doubled over in pain and had a fever of 101 degrees.

The nurses bandaged Naomi’s cut, took notes, comforted Nicole and sent Jason to a nearby hospital.

Webster said despite the company, she hasn’t had any trouble so far from the prisoners.

“You really don’t know what to expect,” Webster said. “But it’s been pretty mellow for me.”

Webster began working there in July, and she likes it and plans to stay, though she hopes to switch from second to first shift.

“I always wanted to work in the legal system,” Webster said. “With my health care education, this seemed like a great fit.”