Correctional officers in the Utah State Prison's psychiatric ward are inadequately trained, a former supervisor said.
The former official, Kyle Adams of Bluffdale, also said prison psychiatrists regularly cut off mentally ill inmates' medications when they were admitted to the 28-bed, acute-care unit.This has resulted in unnecessary psychotic episodes, said Adams, who quit in October 1995 following a string of demotions.
Prison clinical administrator Dale Schipaanboord acknowledged inmates often are taken off medication to determine whether they are faking a mental illness, but only in closely monitored settings.
In the wake of a mentally ill inmate's March 20 death following a 16-hour stint in a restraint chair, the quality of Utah prison's health care again has come under fire.
Under a 1992 court stipulation, the prison is required to provide all new guards with training to recognize symptoms of mental illness, chemical dependence and adverse reactions to psychotropic medications; suicide prevention; procedures for mental-health referrals; appropriate use of forced seclusion and restraints; and problem-solving.
"I never got one minute of training," Adams said. "They didn't even allow me to take the 40 hours to keep my certification up."
He said his subordinates were as inadequately prepared as he was.
For more than a year, starting in 1994, Adams served as sergeant in the psychiatric unit, where he came to know inmates Michael Valent and Steven LeRoy Nelson. Valent, 29, was the inmate who died after being confined in the restraint chair. Nelson, 40, spent nearly three months strapped to a stainless steel slab in early 1995.
Adams said he had no knowledge of the training requirements until an inmate informed him of the court stipulation. At least five times, he notified his supervisor in writing of his inadequate training, he said. The supervisor rebuffed his request for additional training, saying the prison lacked the manpower to return officers to the classroom, Adams said.
A compliance expert, Florida physician Dennis Kozon, found the prison's training regimen at least partially met the court order. Kozon favorably reviewed course materials and attendance records four times between 1993 and 1995.
Prison spokesman Jack Ford did not have enough information Wednesday to address the former officer's allegations, but clinical staffers contend training levels are up to par.
All recruits undergo 40 hours of mental-health training as part of their 13-week correctional officer training, according to Schipaanboord. In the early 1990s, corrections sent 18 officers to Utah State Hospital to receive extensive training so they could function as psychiatric technicians.
Adams said that when incoming prisoners were taken off their medications, their conditions often would deteriorate to frightening depths.
"They take you off the drugs until you go off, and then they put you in the chair. It's a very sick, sick cycle," said Fraser Nelson, Disability Law Center executive director.
Prison medical staff defended the practice as an accepted way to assess the mental condition of inmates, who often have a history of substance abuse or faking illness.
"To get a true diagnosis, medication can be withheld so we can try to get a base line. That is not unusual in the community," said prison mental-health administrator Bob Verville.
Inmate Steven LeRoy Nelson was on antidepressants when he began cutting holes in his abdomen in January 1995.
"Had we the training, we would have known what was going on," Adams said. "For two weeks, he was working on that hole. All of the signs were there, the lack of movement, the lack of emotion."