#private nursing agency

[viprivatecare]

Private Nursing Agency: Providing Exceptional Care and Support at Home 

In today's fast-paced world, finding reliable and compassionate healthcare services can be a challenging task, especially for individuals who require specialized care in the comfort of their own homes. Private nursing agencies have emerged as a valuable solution, offering personalized and professional medical care tailored to the unique needs of each patient. One such exceptional provider is VIPrivate Care, a leading private nursing agency committed to delivering top-quality care and support. In this blog post, we will explore the benefits of private nursing agencies and delve into the exceptional services offered by VIPrivate Care. 

1. Expertise and Specialized Care: 

Private nursing agencies like VIPrivate Care bring together a team of highly skilled and experienced nurses who possess expertise in various healthcare disciplines. These professionals are equipped to provide specialized care for a wide range of conditions, including post-surgical care, chronic illness management, palliative care, and more. With their extensive knowledge and commitment to excellence, private nursing agencies ensure that patients receive the highest level of care, tailored to their unique needs. 

2. Personalized Care in the Comfort of Home: 

One of the most significant advantages of engaging a private nursing agency is the ability to receive care in the familiar and comforting surroundings of home. VIPrivate Care understands the importance of this environment and strives to create a nurturing and safe space for patients. By being at home, individuals can experience reduced stress levels, faster recovery times, and improved overall well-being. Private nursing agencies work closely with patients, their families, and healthcare providers to develop personalized care plans that prioritize individual preferences and maintain a sense of independence. 

3. Continuity of Care and Support: 

Private nursing agencies like VIPrivate Care provide consistent and uninterrupted care, ensuring a seamless transition from hospital to home. The dedicated team of nurses and caregivers build strong relationships with patients, fostering trust and familiarity. By having a consistent team by their side, patients can benefit from personalized attention, continuous monitoring, and prompt response to any changes in their condition. This level of support promotes peace of mind for both patients and their loved ones. 

4. Flexibility and Customized Services: 

Private nursing agencies understand that each patient's needs are unique, and they adapt their services accordingly. VIPrivate Care offers a wide range of flexible care options, including 24/7 nursing care, live-in care, respite care, and companion services. This versatility ensures that patients receive the level of support they require, whether it's assistance with daily activities, medication management, wound care, or emotional support. The customized services provided by private nursing agencies promote overall well-being and enhance the quality of life for patients. 

Conclusion: 

Private nursing agencies play a vital role in delivering exceptional care and support to individuals who require medical assistance in the comfort of their own homes. VIPrivate Care, with its team of dedicated healthcare professionals, is a trusted provider that excels in personalized, specialized, and compassionate care. By engaging the services of a private nursing agency, patients and their families can rest assured that their well-being is in capable hands. Whether it's post-surgical recovery, chronic illness management, or end-of-life care, private nursing agencies offer the expertise and support needed to navigate these challenging times with dignity and compassion. 

[seilon]

wwell…………………….finished it

[caringnursingagency]

Aged Care Solutions from 24/7 Care Nursing Agency At 24/7 Care Nursing Agency, we understand the unique challenges faced by seniors and their families. Our aged care services are designed to provide comprehensive support for elderly individuals, helping them live comfortably and safely in their homes. Our trained nurses offer assistance with daily activities, medication management, and specialized care for conditions like dementia and palliative needs. We prioritize dignity and respect, ensuring that our clients receive the highest standard of care tailored to their individual preferences.

[alascare]

Top Private Duty Nursing Agencies in Forsyth

Private duty nursing agencies in Forsyth offer personalized, in-home medical care for individuals needing specialized attention. Services include 24/7 nursing support, medication management, and assistance with daily activities. Dedicated to enhancing patient comfort and independence, these agencies provide compassionate, professional care tailored to each client's unique health needs. Visit Us: https://www.alascare.com/non-medical-home-care-counties-served

[beulahvista]

Beulah Vista UK is a luxury family care agency that offers Person Centered Care, Dementia Care, Residential Care, Nursing Care, Respite Care, and Rehabilitation

[homehealthcares-blog]

Choosing the right home care is may seem difficult and overwhelming nowadays. We at 24-7 Home Healthcare, our healthcare professionals give you or your loved one the best care and services available.

[helpinghandshomecare]

Helping Hands Home Nursing Agency is owned & operated by a Registered Nurse with over 16 years of nursing experience that includes: In-patient; Cardiac/Telemetry, ICU/Critical Care & leadership roles in the hospital. Outpatient experience includes; Home Health Care, Group Home Medication Administration Visits and Urgent Care.

[caring-247]

We offer Private care services in Melbourne. We also provide private care nursing jobs in Melbourne. You can find nursing jobs in Melbourne

[novahomehealthcare]

Tips on Choosing the Right Senior Healthcare Agency Philadelphia

Approaching a senior healthcare agency for the optimum care of your elderly may seek like a daunting task. But actually, it is not. The tips given in this post will help you greatly to find the best caregiver for your loved ones.

There are some decisions in life that are basically weightless – what outfit to wear, what movie to see, where to go to dinner. And there are decisions that will echo through the decades. Selecting a senior Healthcare agency Philadelphia for an elderly loved one may seem to fit into the latter group and have potentially life-changing effects.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

It baffles me the way some political developments turn into scandals while other clearly scandalous developments turn out to be political nothing-burgers.

Take, for instance, dramatic new numbers showing that privatized health care is more expensive than public health care — not just by a little bit, but wildly more expensive.

This has all the makings of a scandal, particularly in Ontario, where Premier Doug Ford has been barrelling forward with plans to significantly increase health care privatization — plans he never revealed before his re-election last year.

There’s fresh evidence why these plans are terrible: Quebec government data, released in April, show that surgeries at private clinics consistently cost the government more, often more than twice as much.

And a May 12 CBC report revealed that our public hospitals, increasingly forced to rely on nurses supplied by private agencies, are paying those agencies up to eight times the going rate. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

[hold-him-down]

Belleview Chapter Two: Triage

Notes: Don't believe anything I say about medicine, politics, or the workings of government agencies.

Belleview: Chapter 1

TW: Institutionalized slavery, a little tiny bit heavy on the exposition

✥ ✥ ✥

As far as ‘day one’s go, Lincoln thinks, it could have been worse. That is the best he can offer himself now. He looks down at his hands, which feel, no matter how many times he scrubs them, as if they are still covered in the blood, both metaphorical and physical, of the residents. They did not ask for his help, and by most metrics do not seem to want his help, and yet still, he is here. Helping? It weighs heavily on him. His hands shake, a product of adrenaline and exhaustion and, maybe, partly of desperation for some kind of emotional release.

Organizing the volunteers had gone smoothly enough. He had four doctors, eight nurses, and fifteen good samaritans (and a list of hundreds of others who were ready to step in if more help was needed), all eager to find their place in this beautiful hellscape.

After the former handler, Jared, was escorted to a waiting police car, Lincoln took a deep breath and rounded up the crew. The de facto Commissioner for the splintered Department of Labor Services in Florida, once responsible for the privatization and trafficking of low-level criminals and now responsible for sorting out the undoing of that system itself, estimated that there would be additional guidance available within two weeks and, between him and Lincoln, suspected that ultimately the residents would be placed in a sort of ‘foster’ situation, where they would be pseudo-adopted into the homes of long time opposers of the system while they accessed medical care and were slowly reintegrated. It was all a lot to stomach, and for his part, Lincoln tried not to look too closely. It was clear that the residents here all, at minimum, required some degree of inpatient medical treatment, and he was qualified to provide that, if nothing else. 

Lincoln had been contracted for four weeks, with the soft warning that it would likely extend beyond that, and the sincere gratitude of the Commissioner as well as a slew of other high ranking officials. His work is important, he was told countless times. It’ll be a hard job, but they can think of no better hands than his to leave the care of these men in. 

After accepting the position, Lincoln began forming something of a plan. He was given a budget and a list of items already at the site. He was sent lists of hundreds and hundreds of doctors, nurses, cooks, mechanics, police officers, former handlers, teachers… anything he could think of, he had available to him. People from across the country offered their support in any way they could. He selected his team, his backup team, and held a list of other local residents that he could rely on for support.

The initial team was small but mighty, fierce in their dedication to help. Four doctors. Five, including him. Twenty-one residents (with only twenty files, but that was for another day). Eight nurses. Fifteen volunteers. Enough for every resident to receive medical attention, with extra volunteers to sort out groceries and clothing and removal of the evidence of what had happened here, with extras to help keep everything flowing.

It was experimental, and no one knew exactly what it would look like. But this team was ready to throw themselves wholly into early recompense and that was all he needed. They would work the rest out as they went.

✥ ✥ ✥

The volunteers look to him for guidance as he enters the conference room and, given that he has run through his plan a hundred times in his head by now, he wastes no time in laying out the loose threads of what he is calling the ‘plan.’ There are people working throughout the building, sealing off some unused wings, repurposing others. They are irrelevant to what Lincoln is doing and have no impact on the residents he now oversees. They will not enter this unit, and his group will not be asked to leave. It does not matter what happens beyond the walls of C-wing anymore. 

There are two empty rooms at the end of the longest, main corridor, that were previously used for something adjacent to medical exams. This is not exactly the highest priority, but the easiest to get started. 

“Yang, Richmond, Jacoby, and Gilman,” Lincoln says, scanning the volunteers as people identify themselves. He hands them each a sheet of paper with a list of items that each room should have. “A truck should be arriving within the next thirty minutes,” he continues. “Start clearing out the exam rooms of anything not on this list, sanitize the hell out of them, and then work with the delivery people to get them set up. Use the south entrance so no one is wandering the halls. They’ll need to be fully functional by tomorrow at the latest.” The volunteers take to task quickly, and Lincoln moves to the next on his list.

“DeLuca and Dhar,” he says next. “Groceries were delivered earlier, let’s get everything put away. There was a large break room for the handlers here,” he says, as he points to the map on the tablet, “but no cafeteria. To the extent possible, clear it out. There are bins for anything that you find that looks remotely criminal. We’ve been asked to refrain from discarding the personal effects of the handlers or anything that might need to be reviewed down the line. Everything can go into storage, someone will come pick it up at some point this evening.”

They exit, and Lincoln is left standing with the medical staff and a small handful of remaining volunteers. He assigns four to scrubbing the common areas of all traces of abuse, the hope being that the residents can eventually comfortably navigate the wing without fear of encountering excessive reminders of their own suffering.  

“We’re going to start triaging,” he says to the medical team. “We have more volunteers ready if we need them, but I am concerned about overwhelming the residents with too much…” He gestures, and is met with nods and muted agreements. “Just, with too much.”

The residents are all, as of this moment, still locked in their rooms. Every doctor has already been assigned a caseload, the files sent out the day before, with each resident grouped first based on the severity of their need for medical attention, and second on their proximity to one another. The most severe cases get seen by the doctors first, with the nurses doing preliminary exams on the less severe cases and making modifications to the plan as needed. 

Lincoln expects four residents to require the most substantial medical support. The local hospital is prepared to provide aid in diagnostic testing, scans, or large scale inpatient procedures in the event that those needed, but all units are overwhelmed by the sudden influx of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people who require care and are in the first wave of full release.

Triage first, he reminds himself. Each of them has four or five men total to see, and he watches as they make their own plans with the nurses on their team. 

Lincoln has one file and two patients. River London, a twenty-four year old man who has been in the system for three years and in Belleview for two of those, and “Felix,” whose file is uniquely absent. The handler told him that Felix had come to Belleview a year prior, and that he wasn’t sure if the handlers were ever told his real name, but if they were, no one remembered it. They estimated his age to be around twenty-two, and the information available was all from the past year. The DOH was working to trace his origins but, to Lincoln’s understanding, his file had been sealed when he was assigned to Belleview, and unsealing it was low in the list of priorities.

“I’m Philip,” the nurse who stands next to him says, holding out his hand. “Reed. I came down from Maryland, I’ve been working with the DoLS there to help organize and staff pop-up clinics in underdeveloped cities with heavy influxes of former workers for the last couple years.”

Lincoln nods and shakes his hand. “Lincoln Prescott,” he says. He doesn’t offer any details beyond that, although Philip’s expectant gaze lingers for a moment too long.

“Did you pick the short straw or volunteer for this?” he asks as Lincoln grabs the lone file from the table.

“A little of both, I guess,” Lincoln responds, flipping open River’s file.

The good news, he thinks, is that there are ample state of the art medical supplies littered throughout the unit already. All of the volunteers brought their own supplies as well, but there is a fully stocked pharmacy and most basic supplies already in house. The bad news is that he is not one hundred percent sure where the volunteers are at with sorting through everything, and if he has to wade through sixty years worth of whips, chains, shock collars, restraints, or whatever other torture devices live within these walls, he might have a nervous breakdown before he even gets started.

The volunteers disperse, the remaining extras assigned out to sorting deliveries and, hopefully, removing any obvious remnants of what this building used to stand for.

Lincoln closes his eyes and talks himself through what the next hour will look like. Minimally, he reassures himself, he has an amazing team and the residents are in good hands. They will be given food, blankets, phones or tablets, books. They will be treated with kindness. They did not ask for their help and he will likely be met with resistance, but it is a consequence of years or abuse, and his intent here is to help. There is a voice, soft but persistent in the back of his mind, that keeps him grounded in the reality that, at least on some level, he will be acting as a captor in a new kind of prison for these men.

If he is met with resistance, he reminds himself now, he will modify his course. He will act as a stepping stone toward freedom and that is all he can do right now. His job today, within the walls of the workers’ rooms, is straightforward. When he’s done talking himself down, he stands straighter, shoves the file into his bag, and makes way to 19-C.

✥ ✥ ✥ 

Belleview Taglist:

@pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings @pirefyrelight @i-eat-worlds

@taterswhump @squishablesunbeam @inpainandsuffering @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

[caringnursingagency]

aring247 Nursing Agency: Nursing Jobs in Melbourne Available Now Looking for nursing jobs in Melbourne? Caring247 Nursing Agency has positions available across the city. We work with top healthcare providers to help you secure a role that matches your qualifications. Contact us at 30 Futures Road, Cranbourne West, 3977 Victoria. Call 03 99899959 or email admin@caring247.com.au to find out more.

[alascare]

Top Private Duty Nursing Agencies in Forsyth

Discover exceptional private duty nursing agencies in Forsyth, offering personalized, compassionate care tailored to your needs. Our skilled nurses provide comprehensive, in-home support to enhance quality of life. From daily assistance to specialized medical care, we ensure a dedicated, professional approach to meet all your healthcare requirements. Visit Us: https://www.alascare.com/non-medical-home-care-counties-served

[calypsocolada]

TILL NEXT TIME | f. dostoevsky

(prequel to 213 days, technically pt. 2, click here for the final part!)

synopsis: you meet a demon for the first time and he surprises you. authors note: sorry it took me so long to make this i am recovering from bsd s5 ep3. anyways, this is a kind of prequel to 213 day. hope you enjoy more soft lovestruck fyodor :) might write one final part to this... cw: blood, gore, violence, fluff, flirting, lovestruck!fyodor, manipulation wc: 2.7k ----------------------------------------

Your phone rang in the darkness of your room. It seeped into your dreams until the harsh ring sent you flying upright in your bed. Your heart thumping wildly in your throat. Your eyes search the dark room until it lands on the clock across the room, the red letters reading 2:13 a.m.

No one ever calls this late unless something is truly wrong.

You fumbled for your phone in the dark, knocking over some things on the nightstand. You cursed as you felt the cold metal of your phone. You pulled it towards you, the bright screen momentarily blinding you. You blinked until you were able to read the name. 

Dazai. 

Your heart dropped from your throat into the pit of your stomach.

You left the agency a few months ago after a particular villain almost killed you. In and out of the hospital for weeks. Nightmares night after night, screaming and waking up the other patients. You were sure the nurses despised you. During those weeks leading up to your close demise you realized that risking your life time and time again was wearing on you heavily. You had found yourself jumping at chances that could get you killed. It was a harsh find, something that left you reeling. Fighting for what was right never felt like a job. With powers like yours it was more of an obligation. But lying in that hospital bed, fightened that the villain, who may or may not have perished, made you finally realize. That even though it hurt, you truly were afraid of dying. You stepped down, amidst your coworkers dismay. The agency was like a family to you and it hurt you but you had an another family, one that had been worrying over you for years.

You let the phone ring. The tone harsh. Something tugged in your chest, you hit the answer button. 

“Dazai?” You murmur sleepily. 

“You almost let me go to voicemail, friend.” There’s amusement in his voice. 

“Almost.” You say and he laughs. 

“Sorry to wake you but we need to talk. Somewhere private.” He says and the amusement in his voice is gone. It has a serious edge to it. It puts you on high alert. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask. 

“I wouldn’t dare interrupt your beauty sleep if there wasn’t.” He says and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

Dazai was sat in a clearing lit from the moon when you finally found him. He gave you directions to a forest just outside of the city and the entire ride here you wondered if this was all some kind of joke. Or if it wasn’t and you were being lured here to your certain death. The forest was certainly dense enough for something bad to occur. THis clearing was the first shred of light the entire way here. You had to guide your way with your pathetic flashlight on your phone.

But when you saw Dazai alone you relaxed. He was sat cross legged on a boulder, his head propped in his hand. He perked up as you walked closer to him. 

“Finally.” He sighs, sliding off the boulder landing on the forest floor. 

“You couldn’t have picked some nice little coffee shop?” You grumble, flicking leaves from your hair. Dazai leans against the boulder, sliding his hands into his pocket. 

“This is secluded. No one can hear us here.”

“It’s creepy. And the way you said that is even creepier.” You snipe. Dazai just smirks. It reminds you of the good ole days. Of sitting around the agency after a job, resting on your chair, listening to the members bicker or laugh. Something warm filled your chest. “Is everything okay, Dazai?”

“I need your expertise.”

“You need my powers.” You deadpan and he nods his head. 

“The agency is in a bit of a bind. I need you to do a little recon for me.” Dazai said calmly. You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head. 

“I’m done with that, Dazai.” 

“I know but- one last mission. A send off.”

“No.” You say a bit more firmly. You already had a send off, it almost cost you your life, you didn't want another one. “You don’t need me, you think circles around me, I’m sure you can find another solution.” 

“You’re my solution. Your powers are extraordinary, you do this for me and I’ll owe you.”

“You already owe me! A ton!” You argue. 

“We need you. Just one last time.” He says, leveling you with a meaningful look. You clench your jaw.

One last time.

The old you wouldn’t have even thought twice. You always jumped head first into a problem. You can’t help but think of how relieved your mom was when you told her you quit, she cried with joy. Your dad smiled at you, hugged you and beamed that he wouldn’t have to worry any longer. You were dissappointing them.

One last time. You'd say that all the way to the grave.

 

You found yourself slinking down a dark hallway, using shadows to your advantage. Been a long time since you held a gun, but it fit comfortably in your hand and felt all too familiar. Dazai gave you the run down. It was a quick in and out. There was a prisoner down here you needed to get a few two answers out of with your powers.

Cell thirteen. 

“Hey! You shouldn’t be down here ma’am!” A voice called out down the hallway. You hid your gun behind your back, not wanting to spook the man into calling for backup.

“I wasn’t here, keep walking.” You command, your powers coating your voice. It washes over the man as his eyes go hazy, his feet carrying him down the hallway. You hear chains rattle beside you, slightly startling you. 

“That was impressive, quite a power you have there.” A voice to your left says, his Russian accent softly coating your ears. You turn to the voice, peering through the bars of a dark cell. A man sat on the edge of a bed, long limbed, black hair hanging in his face. He pulls his head up, eyes as black as night looking into yours. He barely tilts his head, those dark eyes looking you over not once but twice. The corner of his lips quirk slightly. “You’re a beautiful sight for sore eyes, dear.” You glance at the cell number. Thirteen. 

“Fyodor Dostoevsky.” You say, and his eyes light up. Before he closes them, making a face as if he’s savoring something sweet. 

“Yes…” he breaths out. “It sounds so sweet from your lips.” You stare at him. Is this guy for real? 

“I’ve come to ask you some questions.” You say and he opens his eyes back up, sliding them to meet yours. 

“Some questions, hmm? With a power like yours I’m sure you can just force an answer out of me.” He says, leaning his elbows on his knees. You nod your head. 

“Yes.” 

“But what fun would that be?” He asks. 

“I’m not here for fun.” You say and Fyodor pouts his lips. 

“I’ve been imprisoned for quite some time, dear, humor me?” He asks. You stare for a moment. Dazai described this man as highly dangerous and to not let your guard down. 

“No.” You say. “Tell me-“

Suddenly a hand clamps over your mouth, a strong hand that drags you back into an even tougher body. Your gun is wrenched from your hand and easily tossed to the side. You’re held with no hope of escape. You watch Fyodor rise to his feet as he walks to the bars. Slender fingers wrapping around them. This close you see his face better, pale skin, sharp lines. His eyes are soulless, the smirk on his pink lips turning to something colder. One last time, yeah this really would be the last time. 

“Careful with her,” he directs sharply to the man holding you. You struggle but it’s in vain. Whoever is holding you right now was ten times stronger than you. “Come, bring her closer.” Fyodor directs and you’re forced to walk forwards as you kick and squirm, grunting with effort. The man stops. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just wanna see you,” he whispers softly, reaching a hand through the bars. You flinch as his long finger drags softly across your forehead to move your hair from your eyes. You’re too confused by the moment to pull away. It's not often that an enemy takes such an interest in you. “Don’t be angry with me, my love, you must understand why.” He says as you feel the man behind you fish the keys from your pocket. Handing it to Fyodor. Fyodor doesn’t look away from you as he unlocks his cell, stretching.

You slam backwards against the man holding you, hitting him in the jaw. The man grunts in pain, loosening his grip. You stamp your foot down, driving your head up one last time, his grip slackens even more as you’re able to break free. But he catches you by the hair, yanking you back and slamming you against the concrete flooring. You feel your nose bust, blood gushing. Your head screams in pain as you feel a foot stamp hard down on your chest. The breath is swept right out of you as you see the man’s looming figure over you, just as you part your lips to speak there’s a flash and a loud pop. Hot blood sprays across your face as the man’s hold is released and he falls slack on his side slamming into the concrete. Your breath rushed back into you as you cough and gasp, scrambling back. Stood mere feet from you was Fyodor, gun in hand, smoke curling out of the barrel. You stare, dumbfounded as Fyodor bends to his knee as you watch him carefully. He reaches across the space between you two, you flinch as his soft fingers wipe blood from your lips. His fingers linger there and your stuck staring because his eyes aren't black, they're a midnight plum color.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks his voice a husky whisper. Your throat is dry. His hand is warm against your face, his thumb drags slowly across your cheek. His eyes travel your body as though he searching for any other wounds. He shoots a sharp glare to his dead henchman.

You find your voice. 

“Drop the gun and get in the cell.” You command, that same hazy look settles in his eyes as he stands up straight, hand dragging from your face, turning and walking into the cell. You force yourself off the floor, snatching the keys from his hand, slamming the door behind him, locking it. He stops in the middle of the cell and turns slowly, lips parted in surprise as his eyes meet yours. There’s something you can’t quite place behind it. 

He had saved your life… he could’ve run and never looked back. But he didn’t. Something shifted in your chest. Some feeling you shoved away before it could try and form. Slowly a smile forms on his cruel mouth, it offsets every sharp line in his face, makes it look soft. 

“Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams.” He recites, eyes taking on a sort of dreamy quality. 

“Why did you kill him?” You push, avoiding the dead man not three feet from you. 

“He wasn't careful with you,” he waved as though that were obvious. 

“You could’ve fled, what did my life matter to you?” 

“I feel a sort of draw to you, my love, something about you I can’t put my finger on just yet.” He says in thought. Your jaw ticked, you decided not to go down that road with this man, it’s clear he’s not all there. “I knew the agency would send someone but I didn’t expect you.” 

“Y-you knew?” You stuttered. Fyodor’s eyes drag lazily up to yours.

“Of course I did, dear, it was quite obvious.” 

“You knew but couldn’t come up with a better plan to escape?” You dug. His lips turned up in a smirk. 

“I’m not sure I want to just yet.”

“There won’t be a yet.” You growl. His brow raises. 

“Will you stop me, my love?” He asks and you take a threatening step forwards. He was behind bars but still he intimidated you. He was over a head or so taller, looked down at you with dreamy sort of glaze over his eyes. 

“I’ll kill you if I have to.” You say. He slaps a hand over his chest as though you shot him with an arrow. 

“My love you wound me.” 

“Enough!” You snap, hand slipping through the bars grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming him into them. He grunts in pain as you hold him against the bars. “You’re going to tell me what you know then I'm going to leave.” You growl and the look on Fyodor is the complete opposite of what you want. He looks highly entertained. He doesn’t struggle. As though this is what he wants, you being rough with him

“I’ll tell you whatever you like.” He breathes out, this close you can’t hide the way his voice affects you. You feel crazy. You hide it well enough though. 

“How did you know I would be coming?”

“Not you, just someone from the agency. But I feel as though I am truly blessed with your presence.”

“Enough...” You sigh.

“I don’t know how to be silent when my heart is speaking.” You let go of his shirt and take a step back, running a stressed hand through your hair. 

“Do you know who I am?”

“If you’re asking if I remember who caught me then yes, I remember you love, I could never forget a voice like yours.”

Fyodor had the agency backed in a corner months before your accident, with no hope in sight Dazai had one last plan, he got you on the phone to Fyodor and you were able to tell him to sleep, he was arrest moments later. You hadn't known him then. You still don't now.

“I know you want revenge. Maybe you killed that guy because you wanted to kill me yourself." Fyodor tils his head as he thinks about your words for a moment. He walks closer to the bars, reaches for your cheek and holds it. You don’t move. You’re not sure you can. Whatever was happening was something completely out of your own control. 

“One day I will prove it to you. Until then,” His eyes glance at a clock just on the wall behind you. “You must leave.” 

“Why is tha-“ You’re walkee clicks to life as Dazai’s staticy voice comes through. 

“Time to go, got some trouble on the way.” He says and your eyes slide up to him. He still has his hand on you, it slides down your arm to take you by the hand. He brings your knuckles to his mouth and presses a kiss to them. You watch all of this in rapt attention, something flutters in your chest. You pull your hand away and take a step back, shaking your head as though shaking off a trance. He was just as dangerous as Dazai said. Not only did you not ask one question Dazai wanted answered but you almost let a very dangerous man escape. You bend to pick the gun up off the floor, your eyes never leaving Fyodor’s. 

“You have little more than thirty seconds, are there any questions you’d like to ask me? Possibly one’s Dazai supplied you with?” This man knew all too much. 

“Did you have anything to so with the framing of the agency?” The hazy tint takes over. 

“Not directly.” He answers. 

“Did you hire someone else?” 

“No.” He says. There were a few ways to get around your gift, you just had to choose your words carefully, a lie could be the truth with the right words. “You have to go, please.” Fyodor says, there’s a slight edge to his voice, like… worry? 

His eyes flicker to the clock, his lips move to count the seconds.

“Till next time, my love.” You leave without another word. There wouldn't be a next time if you could help it.

Slipping back into the outside, warm air greets you. You spot Dazai parked and walked dejectedly to the car, slipping your hand in your pocket. You stop dead in your tracks. Dread sets in. 

The keys are missing. And you would bet your last dollar you knew where they were.

[opencommunion]

"The suit describes how incarcerated Alabamians are forced to work for free in prison and paid extremely low wages to work for hundreds of private employers — including meatpacking plants and fast-food franchises like McDonald’s — as well as more than 100 city, county and state agencies. And it alleges that the state keeps the scheme going by systematically denying parole to those eligible to work outside jobs. ... In the case of the government officials, they’re also accused of conspiring to increase the size of the Alabama prison population — which is predominantly Black — through the discriminatory denial of parole so the state can continue profiting from forced labor. '[Prisoners] have been entrapped in a system of ​‘convict leasing’ in which incarcerated people are forced to work, often for little or no money, for the benefit of the numerous government entities and private businesses that ​‘employ’ them,' the suit charges. In Alabama, that charge comes with ugly historical baggage. Convict leasing — a practice of forced penal labor prevalent in the post-Emancipation South (in which incarcerated men were ​'leased' to private employers) — was a massive state revenue driver. Thanks to the Black Codes, a racist program to criminalize petty offenses both real and imagined, Black people were locked up at a massively disproportionate rate to their white neighbors. Many were then sent to work on plantations to fill the labor gap left by Emancipation. ... Convict leasing was formally abolished in Alabama in 1928, but prison labor has remained a significant source of income for the state. ... According to the lawsuit, Alabama reaped a $450 million benefit from forced prison labor in 2023 alone. ... Lakiera Walker worked for Jefferson County doing roadwork for approximately two years and was paid a $2 daily wage to handle large trash removal (including a Jacuzzi). She found out that the non-incarcerated workers on her team were making $10 per hour for the same job. One day, the lawsuit alleges, Walker’s boss attempted to coerce her into unwanted sexual activity; when she refused, he wrote her up on a disciplinary offense for ​'refusing to work.' She was then sent to work unpaid in the prison’s kitchen, and when her family called the commissioner and the warden to demand something be done, no action was taken. ... During Walker’s 15-year incarceration, she held a litany of unpaid jobs throughout the prison itself, too, including in the kitchen, housekeeping and healthcare. She even provided hospice care to dying patients. ​'The nurses really weren’t interested in taking care of sickly or terminally ill people, so they would get the inmates to do it,' Walker says. She says she was regularly required to work seven days a week, and she often had to work two shifts a day. None of these prison jobs were paid, and quitting or refusing work was not a viable option. ​'You can’t say, ​‘Hey, I can’t go to work today,’' Walker explains. ​'You would go to segregation, which was solitary confinement. … People were so tired and just hopeless at that point, they would kind of welcome solitary confinement, just to have a break.'

... Walker did finally make it home after all those years of forced labor, but many others are still trapped in the system. ... By 2022, the parole rate was 11% overall and only 7% for Black prisoners — meaning that 93% of parole-requesting Black prisoners were denied. That’s what happened to Alimireo English, a charismatic 48-year-old Black man who, according to a judge, should not be in prison right now. ... But instead of being back home with his family, at church with his faith community, or visiting his eldest son in New York, English is at the Ventress Correctional Facility in Clayton, Ala. His case did not come before the parole board until November 28, 2023, more than two years after he’d already been acquitted, but he was denied anyway. His next parole date is November 2024. 'They gotta keep me for another year until they can find somebody else on the street that they can pull back in and take my place,' English tells me. ​'If they can’t replace you, they don’t let you go.'

... English works as a dorm representative for the facility���s Faith Dorm, where he is on call 24 hours a day, seven days per week. He is responsible for the safety and well-being of 190 incarcerated men, many of them elderly or medically vulnerable. He handles custodial duties and maintenance, screens dorm visitors and is also the first responder for drug and health emergencies. In his scant free time, he runs a therapy and counseling group for his fellow prisoners. He consistently works 12 to 15 hour days and, for most of the week, he is the sole individual in charge of the dorm; a retired prison chaplain comes in to assist him a few times weekly, but otherwise English is not supervised by any corrections personnel. As the lawsuit highlights, ​'Since Mr. English has been in this position, the Faith Dorm has had no fights, deaths, or overdoses.' The plaintiffs’ legal team estimates that ADOC saves roughly $200,000 a year by not having a corrections officer in that one dorm. Meanwhile, English is paid nothing. ​'The inmates basically run the prison, but the officers are getting compensated for it,' English says. ​'The wages the inmates are paid for their work hasn’t changed since 1927.'

Several of the plaintiffs I spoke to also mentioned ​'institutional need,' a specific designation that plaintiffs have reported is added to certain prisoners’ files to signify their utility to their current facility. According to Walker and her lawyer, institutional need is yet another trick used by the ADOC to keep especially useful incarcerated workers from leaving, so the state can continue benefiting from that person’s skills. ... 'Most people, it stops them from going home or making parole because it says that we need you more in prison than the world needs you in society,' Walker explains. ​'This lady, her name is Lisa Smith, she’s been in prison about 30 years, and every time she comes up for parole, regardless of her crime, she’s an institutional need. She can fix anything in the prison — she can probably build a prison — but she’s not getting paid. Sometimes they won’t even call in a free world contractor because she knows what to do. It’s looking bleak that she will ever make it out of prison, because they need her there.'

... Because of a 1977 Supreme Court decision, incarcerated workers in the United States — including those in ADOC’s work release program — are legally prohibited from unionizing. The Supreme Court decision barring incarcerated workers from unionizing has not stopped organizations like the Industrial Workers of the World’s Incarcerated Workers Organizing Committee, Jailhouse Lawyers Speak and the Free Alabama Movement (FAM) from organizing labor actions, strikes and protests against prison slavery, or individual prisoners from finding their own ways to dissent. ... One of the founders of FAM, Kinetik Justice, is a plaintiff in the Alabama lawsuit. He has helped organize and lead several high-profile nationwide prison strikes since 2016. He’s been in ADOC custody for the past 29 years, and he has been repeatedly punished, harassed and tortured for his work organizing against forced labor. According to The Appeal, he spent 54 months in solitary confinement between 2014 and 2018 and has been repeatedly sent back into the hole. As he told Democracy Now! in 2016, ​'We understood our incarceration was pretty much about our labor and the money that was being generated from the prison system, therefore we began organizing around our labor and used it as a means and a method to bring about reform in the Alabama prison system.' He is no stranger to filing lawsuits on his own and his fellow prisoners’ behalf against ADOC, so it is fitting that this landmark class action suit bears his name."