Let 'm Eat Swill
By: George Feigley
Cofounder
Many of Pennsylvania's 46,000 prisoners are
dying. Hundreds are seriously ill.
They should be released, but the Pennsylvania way is to torture
them until the very last breath. Imprisonment is Pennsylvania's
only growing industry.
Because of the thousands of seriously sick and dying prisoners, the Pennsylvania imprisonment industry operates 2 substantial hospitals. One, Waymart, is in the far Northeastern corner of the state. The other, Laurel Highlands, a converted nut-house, is in the Southeast at Somerset. The idea is that the hospitals will keep the prisoners alive so that they can suffer more. The Laurel Highlands prison is staffed by generally competent and compassionate medical professionals, but also by a raft of prison guards. The guards seem to possess a sincere lust to torment, torture and harass the prisoners, especially those who are the most hopelessly ill. One pet strategy employs the food. A fellow named Michael Borosky is responsible for the prison and hospital kitchen(s). In theory, good-old Mike is supposed to assure that the patients get decent, healthful meals. But, at the core, Chef Borosky has conflicting motivations. At the core, Chef Borosky is a prison guard. A prisoner complained that the food he was being served was unhealthful, cold and awash in swill. The complaining prisoner was one of those who was so sick that he couldn't attend the messhall. Like hundreds of others, his meals were delivered to his cellblock in small insulated plastic trays. Typically, the food-wells in the trays were wet with puddles of water. The puddles were water leftover from washing the trays. Bits of food and refuse from previous meals floated in the puddles. They often glimmered with grease slicks. Perhaps too finicky and fastidious, the complaining prisoner thought that it was dangerously unhealthful for the sick, old and infirmed prisoners to have to eat such swill. Greatly compounding the risk was the fact that much of what Chef Borosky served was uncooked, under-cooked or cold. The finicky prisoner complained that cold and/or only partially warmed foods were dangerous. He observed that what he was given on his trays was sometimes simply taken from a box in the cooler and flopped on the tray. "Aren't these waffle squares supposed to be warmish?" Contrary to the rules, the prisoner's gripe was given to Chef Borosky to shrug off. Of course, the chef didn't think it was a big deal. Who cares if a sick man is served cold food? I don't mean warm. I don't mean tepid. I mean COLD. Properly "cooking" the food might kill off a few pathogens and make the meal more nearly palatable, but if a hospitalized patient can't tolerate some billion germs, let him puke up his sleeve! After Chef Borosky refused to correct any of the problems, the bitchy prisoner appealed to the warden. The warden was herself a nurse so it was a bit of surprise (but only a bit) that she too saw nothing wrong with the chill-swill. "Let 'm eat cake!" If you have a loved one at the Laurel Highlands hospital, I suggest that you send him a few buck once in a while so he can buy some expensive commissary on which to survive. Either that or contribute to his antibiotic needs.
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