A Troubled Soul

 “Carl” was my stepson. He was smart, funny, and charming. He was also an addict. I loved him and I hated him and I prayed for him. Please allow me to tell you his story. Beginning in his teen years, Carl began experimenting with drugs. By the time he was an adult, he had developed a full blown addiction. He began stealing to pay for the drugs. Carl was arrested for theft and drugs on multiple occasions and each time spent several years in prison. During his most recent incarceration, he was held at a privately-owned prison in Tennessee.

Carl called me on April 1^st and stated he was very ill. He complained of joint pain and swelling, weakness, and fatigue. He had been treated by the prison medical staff and also had seen a physician outside the prison. But he wasn't getting any better. Some of the last words he spoke to me were “Please don't let me die in here.” I promised to call the warden the next day to discuss his medical care. I was a little skeptical about the real severity of his illness because he had lied to us in the past about having serious medical issues. However, I did call the next day and expressed my concern about his health. On April 9, Carl was admitted to a local hospital. The prison would not allow my husband or I to speak with him while he was in the hospital. We were also unable to get any specific details on his condition. On April 18, we were notified that Carl had been transferred to Vanderbilt Medical Center in Nashville, Tennessee. The prison finally agreed to allow the family to visit him. The physician at Vanderbilt told us that Carl had developed an infection from using intravenous drugs while incarcerated. The infection invaded his heart and lungs and he also developed sepsis. The day before we saw Carl at the hospital, his heart stopped but doctors were able to revive him. However, the lack of oxygen while they resuscitated him caused permanent, irreversible brain damage. The family had to make the heartbreaking decision to remove life support. He passed away on April 26, 2022. He was 41 years old.

Carl's untimely death left me sad, frustrated, and angry. I partially blame the prison for his death because they allowed drugs to be introduced into their facility. Without access to drugs, Carl would not have developed the infection that took his life. I also blame Carl because he knew the risks but still made the decision to inject the drugs. I miss him. Sometimes it still doesn't seem real. I'm sharing his story because I hope it will prompt other addicts to seek help before it's too late. I don't want any other family to go through the nightmare we have endured. If you, or someone you know, needs help with drug addiction please call the SAMSHA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health ServicesAdministration) National Helpline at 1-800-662-4357.