One morning, I am woken up by an officer telling me I’m scheduled to be on a bus ride to the hospital with other prisoners, also known as a “medical chain,” the next day. Lately, I’ve been experiencing a series of irregular heartbeats.

On about four hours of sleep, Day 1 begins with the Blue Bird’s departure (that’s the type of bus), transporting myself and about 25 other female prisoners. Our first stop, after an hours-long drive, is a men’s prison, which just so happens to primarily house sex offenders.

The male prisoners stare at me like I am a piece of fresh meat; one of them grabs his crotch, and the officer escorting us orders him to face the wall as we pass.

By 2 a.m., we are on the bus again, after having a total of seven hours of sleep in the past two days. Soon, we arrive at the hospital’s waiting area, and for another eight hours we sit on benches so narrow it’s impossible to stay upright.

I meet the cardiologist, who seems awful rushed. He administers an EKG — the same thing the unit healthcare provider at the prison had done — and confirms, “Yep, it’s beating too slow…” (duh) and then, “We will have you brought back here in two weeks for some more tests.”

Read the full article on prisoner's medical care by Deidre McDonald at The Marshall Project