Pubdate: Thu, 26 Jul 2007 Source: Capital Times, The (WI) Copyright: 2007 The Capital Times Contact: http://www.madison.com/tct/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/73 Author: Steven Elbow Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?232 (Chronic Pain) Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/rehab.htm (Treatment) CRUEL & UNUSUAL MEDICINE: PRISON DOCTOR'S PRACTICES REVEALED It was obvious the wound in Ronnie Russell's arm was not healing. Obvious to Russell, who endured constant pain as it worsened. Obvious to the nurses who, suspecting an infection, meticulously documented the appearance and size of the oozing hole. "It was going on for weeks," says Russell, an inmate patient at the Dodge Correctional Institution infirmary in Waupun. "My arm was turning black. There was a real lot of black stuff there and a real lot of nasty smells." But to Dr. Thomas Williams, who was in charge of Russell's medical care, it wasn't obvious. He said it was ugly, but not infected. It would heal. He was so sure that he stopped the antibiotics ordered by an on-call doctor, according to medical records obtained by The Capital Times. Russell's wound was the result of a failed attempt by a surgeon working at Waupun Memorial Hospital to create a fistula -- the splicing of a vein and an artery -- in his arm to facilitate dialysis treatments. Four days after Williams discontinued the antibiotics, a dialysis physician at the infirmary ordered an appointment "ASAP" to assess the wound with the surgeon who attempted the fistula. Over the phone, without seeing Russell, the surgeon said such wounds "look awful, but there's no danger," according to medical records. Based on the conversation, Williams canceled the appointment, according to the records. There is no record showing that Williams examined the wound himself in the week before or the week after speaking with the surgeon. The day after Williams canceled the appointment with the surgeon, the prisoner's wound finally got treated. Russell, a diabetic who has AIDS and a host of other medical problems, was sent to University Hospital in Madison for an appointment unrelated to his arm. Doctors there saw the wound, ordered lab tests and determined that Russell had an infection. They gave him antibiotics and surgically cleaned out the wound. This is a familiar scenario for Williams' patients, several nurses at the infirmary say. Unable to get Williams to order what they feel is adequate care, nurses try to find someone who will, often by arranging expensive trips to the Waupun Memorial Hospital emergency room or University Hospital in Madison. "We get medications and start treating them," says veteran nurse Kathy Bradley. "And, on Monday morning, the doctor stops them without even seeing the patient, just stops them because somebody messed with his orders." But nurses and other critics say the problems with Williams and the state infirmary extend far beyond poor wound care. They say Williams routinely denies pain medication to patients who are in pain. They say that he refuses to see some patients who need his attention and that he treats patients and infirmary staff with contempt. And he has ordered prisoner patients into "dry cells" where their water supply is cut off. Bradley, who recently found another job, is the only one of about a half-dozen nurses and other infirmary staffers interviewed who agreed to be named for this story; the others said they feared retaliation from supervisors. Williams and other corrections officials, when confronted with the allegations by The Capital Times, deny them all. They say their critics don't fully understand the complexities of their patients' medical conditions and the challenges of providing health care to difficult and often conniving inmates. Asked about the nurses' complaints, Williams says: "I have no answer for that. I've been in practice since 1978 and I have not had issues with nursing staff in the past." But many of the allegations of the nurses are corroborated by hundreds of pages of medical records obtained by The Capital Times with the consent of the prisoners or their families. One prison expert said Williams' pattern of turning off water in inmates' cells for extended periods might violate constitutional guarantees against cruel punishment. A public interest lawyer who specializes in inmate cases is preparing for a possible lawsuit over the treatment of Russell and is considering filing legal action on behalf of another inmate. "I find the same issues keep coming up, being raised by the inmates who are under (Williams') care, being reported to us through other channels, and as I've gone through records, appearing time and time again in those records," says Todd Winstrom, an attorney with Disability Rights Wisconsin who specializes in prison issues. "Those concerns are not seeing inmates very often, not responding to what appear to be significant medical problems that appear to require a medical response and an ongoing pattern of just plain discourtesy to the patients." He attributes much of that to a pervasive suspicion about inmates and their motives in seeking medical attention. In addition to a notice of claim, the first step toward a lawsuit which he has filed on Russell's behalf, Winstrom says he plans to file a complaint seeking action on Williams' medical license with the state Medical Examining Board, which has disciplined Williams for two incidents in the past. Bradley says it's about time. "People just trust that the state of Wisconsin would not do these things," says Bradley, a registered nurse who logged five years at the infirmary. "If you told me these things, I would not believe you. But it's consistent and Dr. Williams needs to lose his license." Mistreatment From Day One The infirmary Williams oversees is operated within the Dodge Correctional Institution, a sprawling complex that sits on 57 acres in Waupun, a city of about 11,000 located 60 miles northeast of Madison whose most prominent industry is incarceration. In addition to Dodge, Waupun is also home to the Waupun Correctional Institution and the John C. Burke Correctional Center for women. Dodge is the reception center for the entire Wisconsin prison system, the first stop for inmates after their sentences are imposed in state court. From there, they are sent to whatever state prison officials deem appropriate. Dodge is also home to the infirmary, a 64-bed facility for Wisconsin's sickest inmates. Many of the patients are chronically ill, suffering such ailments as kidney, heart and liver failure, diabetes or AIDS. Others suffer from serious injuries. Like the rest of the prison, the infirmary is maximum security, and so inmates are locked in cells 23 hours a day. It was on Dec. 17, 2005 that Ronnie Russell arrived at the infirmary, and that's the day that his mistreatment started, according to the notice of claim that Winstrom has filed on Russell's behalf. The claim alleges that Williams compelled Russell to accept "inadequate and inappropriate" medical care without Russell's informed consent and despite Russell's objections, resulting in an almost immediate deterioration of Russell's medical condition and requiring a three-week hospital stay shortly after he was admitted to the infirmary. The notice names Williams and other medical personnel involved in Russell's care, as well as outgoing Corrections Secretary Matthew Frank and Gov. Jim Doyle. The document alleges negligence in the care of Russell's wound as well as ongoing pattern of negligence. Winstrom asked retired Madison-area family physician Linda Farley to review the treatment of Russell's wound and she says in her review it "was grossly inadequate and did not meet any acceptable standard of care." In an interview with The Capital Times, Farley stressed that the reviews of Russell's case and others cited in this story were based only on medical records and were done without the benefit of seeing the patient or speaking with nurses or physicians involved in the inmates' care. In her review, Farley says further that: "In my opinion, confirmed by my conversation with an infectious disease colleague, the infirmary physician overseeing this patient's care did not exercise good medical judgment in neglecting to treat the fistula site which showed clear evidence of infection, adding serious risk in a patient whose immune system was already compromised by AIDS and diabetes." But Department of Corrections Medical Director David Burnett says Williams "performed up to our expectations" in providing care for Russell and Williams and his immediate boss, Dr. Scott Hoftiezer, say they are not convinced by the UW doctors' findings. "I'm not even convinced that there was an active infection that was the problem," Hoftiezer says. "I've reviewed the notes from UW and there is a difference of opinion on that." Nurses, who are licensed, say Russell's case put them in a difficult position, one in which they often find themselves. Unable to properly care for the patient, they took measures to ensure they wouldn't be held accountable for medical negligence. As Russell's wound festered, they documented its progression as well as their attempts to get Williams to look at it. They slipped a sketch and a photograph of Russell's wound into his medical file to make sure documentation existed to back up their concerns. "It's very frustrating working for this doctor," one nurse says. "I do lot of things just to cover my tail." Staffers say Williams regularly dismisses medical issues noted on the infirmary's "doctor's list," which nurses use to communicate their medical concerns to the physician. Nurses have also reported cases of low-level harassment and scorn, both toward themselves and patients. In March, one nurse documented a tantrum by Williams as the two were discussing a patient's care. The nurse noted that Williams stormed into a cell, ripped off a patient's blood-pressure cuff, shoved the blood-pressure machine at the patient and commanded the nurse to "get this out of here." The medical chart containing this account was obtained by The Capital Times after the patient, Etienne Guzman, signed a release. Some nurses say they have complained to higher-ups, including Hoftiezer, Burnett, Bureau of Health Services Director James Greer, and Dodge Warden Cathy Jess, to no avail. "Dr. Hoftiezer covers up for him. David Burnett and Jim Greer are well aware of the problems with Dr. Williams and they do nothing," says Bradley. "They just keep covering up." Burnett says he's not aware of any complaints, either written or verbal. Hoftiezer says he's gotten "a couple of verbal complaints left in the form of voice mails." "I took those seriously enough to consider that when I did the routine performance review that I do on all physicians," he says. 'His Care Is Sound And Good' Williams, 58, joined the department in July 2004. He says he sought employment with the department because he wanted a change and fewer hours. His previous employer was Waukesha-based ProHealth and he worked as a family practice physician at the company's Mukwonago clinic. In the course of his career, he says he logged 26 years of nursing home experience, serving a portion of that time as medical director at two of them. Williams was initially hired as a doctor at Stanley Correctional Institution, making about $92,400 during his probationary year, according to personnel records obtained through an open records request. In March 2005, he began work at the infirmary, where he oversees medical care for a daily average of nearly 60 inmates. Williams is the fourth and possibly longest-serving physician to hold the position since early 2000. Since joining the Department of Corrections, Williams has seen a hefty boost in his salary. According to state Department of Administration records, in 2006 he earned $169,000. His superiors at the Department of Corrections say they have full confidence in his abilities. "He's one of our board certified physicians," says Burnett. "His medical care is sound and good, and I'll stand behind him." "Dr. Williams has my full confidence in taking care of sick patients," says his immediate boss, Hoftiezer, "as much as any physician I work with would have." Hoftiezer, Burnett and Williams agreed to an interview, attended by Department of Corrections spokesman John Dipko, to discuss care provided to several inmates as well as the nurses' concerns about Williams' medical practices. Responding to nurses' complaints that they routinely have to obtain treatment for their patients from on-call and emergency room physicians, the doctors say the nurses sometimes are out of line. "If there's a change in condition that requires something being done, I have no problem with that," Williams says. "If it's just their opinion, then there may be an issue." Burnett says: "The thing you have to remember is the physician on-site has the whole chart, has been treating that patient for a longer period of time. And a physician getting called on the phone isn't going to have that information, is going to have a selected point of view that's being provided by the nurse. And those decisions aren't always best informed." Williams says the nurses are just plain out of their depth. "Many of our inmates up there, and patients, are very complicated multiple-symptom issues, multiple system failures -- and many of the recommendations I may get are very simplistic and inappropriate, and I don't follow those," he says. "I do what I think is right from a medical standpoint." As a counterpoint to the nurses who were contacted by The Capital Times, Dipko offered an interview with Sandy Sitzman, a former infirmary manager who worked with Williams for the first eight months of Williams' tenure there. In a conference call, in which Dipko participated, Sitzman, who now manages health services at John Burke Correctional Center, calls Williams "a good doctor, a competent doctor. He knows what he's doing." She says she doesn't recall any major complaints about Williams by the nursing staff during her time there, but adds that the dynamics of the infirmary can lead to hard feelings. Some of the nurses who work in the infirmary currently may have come from jobs where they had more autonomy, then had trouble adjusting to the infirmary where the doctor tightly manages patient care. On other issues raised by nurses inadequate pain management, poor wound care Burnett and Hoftiezer defended Williams, though Burnett conceded shortcomings with patient relations. "At times, maybe his communication rapport hasn't been the best," he says. "That's something we've worked with him on, had some counseling and talked to him about it." A Hole In His Leg Scott Schuetze, the other patient for whom Winstrom is considering legal action, has had his share of issues with Williams' "communication rapport" and with his medical care. Schuetze, 43, came to Dodge last August. After processing he was to be shipped out to another institution to serve a three-year sentence. That transfer was put on hold when his leg swelled up with a serious infection, the origin of which is unknown. In September, Hoftiezer sent Schuetze to Waupun Memorial Hospital to have the infected area cleaned surgically. The surgery left a wound, a half-dollar-size hole, that never healed. Indeed, it got worse. Health service requests, forms that allow inmates to request medical attention, clearly document Schuetze's concern that the leg was still infected months before anything was done about it. "I said, well, maybe I should be on some more antibiotics," Schuetze says. "Nobody would listen." Records show that at least one doctor shared his concern. In October an on-call doctor prescribed the antibiotic Cipro, according to Schuetze's medical records. Once Williams returned to his office, he discontinued the antibiotic. For the next several months the wound failed to heal. Schuetze repeatedly complained of pain, but Williams, according to infirmary records, didn't believe him. On March 7, Schuetze filled out a health services request asking Williams for the phone number of the doctor who performed his surgery in September. He wanted to tell him that he leg was not healing. He got a reply from infirmary manager Fred Goetsch, stating, "I spoke with Dr. Williams and he assured me that as long as you are compliant with your treatments and with taking your medications your wound should heal without complications." Two weeks later, more than five months after his first surgery on the wound, he went back to Waupun Memorial Hospital for a second surgery. It was Sunday and Williams was off. The approval for the hospital care came from an on-call physician. At the hospital, he was given antibiotics for the infection, and the wound was surgically cleaned up. Williams maintains that blame for the wound's inability to heal lies with Schuetze. "It would have healed if he had stopped abusing it," he says. "He was witnessed by several of my nursing staff who reported to me he was digging at it in the shower. Every day he'd come out of the shower with bright red blood draining from the wound, which would only occur in a setting if he was manipulating the wound." Asked what Schuetze had to gain by digging at his wound, Williams says, "I kept asking myself that question, too. Why does he want to stay here? He says he wants to get out. He's the only one who can answer why he was doing that." Schuetze denies doing anything to worsen the wound and says Williams not only didn't treat the infection, but cut back his pain medications, took away the cane he was using to get around and denied him use of a wheelchair. Farley, the doctor who reviewed Russell's care, also took a look at the care provided to Schuetze, and concluded in her report: "The standard of care should have dictated a return visit to the orthopedic physicians at (Waupun Memorial Hospital) many weeks earlier, thus ensuring a much faster healing of the wound and saving the patient much pain and misery." Farley also took Williams to task for ordering treatment without examining the patient, blaming the slowness of the healing process on Schuetze's "manipulation of the wound," dismissing Schuetze's complaints of pain, and not ordering physical therapy or occupational therapy to a patient who was spending up to 20 hours a day in bed. Farley also wrote that after Schuetze's most recent release from the hospital, Williams ignored explicit orders for a follow-up visit with the surgeon, removed the stitches himself and didn't give sufficient pain medication. Throughout his time at Dodge, Schuetze communicated with Williams primarily via his health service requests, which he would fill out frequently. The requests were mostly for medical treatment and pain medication. The requests prompted Williams to shoot back such replies as, "I do not believe your excess pain," "You have the nerve to ask ... for pain pills after you have been witnessed to be manipulating your wound," and Williams telling him to "act like an adult." During that time, the two rarely spoke face-to-face. "He'd come in and he'd talk to the nurse and he'd stick something in (the wound) real quick, and he'd run out the room," Schuetze says. "He'd never talk to me. You know, you see a doctor, they talk to you, you know, How you doing, you feeling any pain?' He didn't do that." A Questionable Death Nurses also told of a dying patient who developed an infection that they say Williams didn't treat. Sepsis -- the spread of an infection into the bloodstream -- was not mentioned in a Dodge County Medical Examiner's report as contributing to the Feb. 22, 2006, death of George Lyons, an 81-year-old diabetic. Lyons' death certificate lists his cause of death as complications from coronary artery disease. But infirmary records released to The Capital Times by Lyons' wife listed sepsis as the cause of death. Dodge County Medical Examiner P.J. Schoebel could not explain why the pathologist who performed Lyons' autopsy didn't mention sepsis as a factor, though Lyons had a high fever in the days before he died. He said the pathologist found extensive evidence of severe coronary artery disease, but the autopsy report didn't mention sepsis. He could not say if the medical records made available to the pathologist mentioned Lyons' sepsis because those records are protected by federal confidentiality laws. Lyons' infirmary medical records show that on Dec. 11, Dr. Timothy Correll, who often fills in at the infirmary when Williams is off duty, prescribed the antibiotic Cipro to Lyons after his temperature reached 99.4 degrees. The next day Williams discontinued the treatment. Williams says being too quick to use antibiotics just increases the chance that bacteria will become resistant, and there was not enough clinical evidence of an infection to continue the antibiotic. "During my years in practice -- I have extensive nursing home practice I have dealt with a lot of catheters, a lot of elderly patients," Williams says. "The standard practice is not to treat a person with a catheter unless there's a fever. Not all physicians follow that as strictly as I do." But Farley says "it's just not true because elderly people frequently do not show a fever." She reviewed the laboratory analysis of Lyons urine and she says it clearly indicated an infection. "I've had a lot of nursing home experience, and there's no question I would have treated this based on the lab work," she says. She adds, "Cipro was appropriate." Correll again prescribed Cipro a month later, when Lyons' temperature was near normal at 97.7 degrees. Lyons got the full course, but the infection persisted. Correll later prescribed Cipro again, but Lyons died before the seven-day course was completed. Burnett says like all deaths in the prison system, a mortality review was performed. "Our conclusion was that appropriate care was rendered," he says. Prison officials would not release a copy of the mortality review. Burnett says such reviews are available only to a mortality review committee that includes corrections staff as well as medical people from the private sector. They are off-limits even to the families of the deceased. 'A Bunch Of Criminals And Complainers' Winstrom, the attorney, sees Williams as a product of a flawed system, one that allows negative attitudes about inmates to interfere with the care they receive. "There's always a risk in correctional settings, health care, mental health care, of providers developing a negative attitude," he says. "Seeing the inmates as malingerers, as manipulators, as people who are trying to cheat something out of them. And instead of maintaining the normal attitude -- 'I'm your health care provider, I'm working with you, we are trying to care for your health' -- there's this on-guard, negative. 'You're trying to cheat me, you're trying to lie to me, you're trying to get things out of me.' And that creates a poisonous atmosphere, an atmosphere which is absolutely antithetical to good health care." Winstrom and some nurses say there's a tendency to see patients as criminals -- for instance, Ronnie Russell, the sex offender or Scott Schuetze, the substance abusing thief -- rather than as patients. Medical assessments by Williams and Hoftiezer show that they held off giving Russell certain pain medications because he had a history of drug abuse. The notes also peg him as a malingerer. "You can read those notes time and time again," Winstrom says. "And it's the heightened suspicion of the patient that keeps coming through." That kind of suspicion is evident when speaking with prison officials. "They've committed crimes," says Department of Corrections spokesman Dipko. "They've been sentenced to serve time in prison. They can be a very challenging population, not just to manage but to administer care to." "This is a population that at times gets to be frustrating," Burnett says. "We've had to work with all our physicians. We bring people in at times for training on just how to handle people who are manipulative, don't always tell you the truth, are looking for narcotics." Barbara Neitman, a nurse who works at the prisoner intake center at Dodge, says inmates get "excellent, excellent medical care" while many law-abiding citizens have to do without. "And they still complain," she says. "These are individuals who ruined their lives by doing drugs and with their lifestyles and now we are to save them? That upsets me, to be honest with you." Some of the infirmary nurses interviewed for this story say they're no strangers to manipulative inmates, but the problem patients are a small minority. "The infirmary's a hard place to work," says one. "You have a lot of patients that are there long-term. Some people can be manipulative, but you can't carry that through with every patient. You know, pain is pain." Bradley says: "It's only 10 percent or less that make that job difficult. The rest are trying to do their time, get out and go home and have a life." - --- MAP posted-by: Beth Wehrman