Slow death in a short time

by

Clara Chepe Núñez (age 95)


LA HABANA, 28 August (www.cubanet.org) -

Thursday. Uncertainty.. What will we find today when we visit my son Oscar Espinosa Chepe in the State Security Ward of the Finlay Military Hospital in Havana? Will the political re-educator arrive on time?

The first time I was there at 9:00 AM as they had told me, in spite of my 95 years, and my aches and pains. It was raining very hard and we had many problems getting into the elevator of our building, because it is turned off when it rains since the elevator shaft leaks. The political instructor arrived at 10:30. I found my son drugged. He was told that two days before they had given him Amitriptyline [ Note: Amitriptyline (Elavil) is a tricyclic antidepressant. Its most common side effect is drowsiness/sedation]

In the second visit, the Instructor sent a message to my son around 10:00 saying that he would be late because he was busy. He arrived at 11:00. Oscar’s mind was not so scattered then. He felt better and could articulate his words. He said he had moderate pain in the left side of his abdomen.

Today, I waited until 11:30. The same political instructor did not arrive, rather, two different ones received us. Oscar is sluggish He said he was sleeping and did not know that we were coming to visit him today, Thursday, even though, last week he knew we would be back. He did not know either that we had been waiting outside for hours.

When we were getting out, an officer asked my daughter-in-law Miriam to stay because they “had to talk.” She asked me not to get nervous. How can I not?

My daughter in law was told that from now on the visits would take place once a month, but not next month. They would let her know when. It could be in two or three weeks, or in a month. It won’t be on a Thursday, but on any day of the week. The uncertainty would keep us on edge, but this would be nothing compared with the mental torture that Oscar would feel not knowing when we would visit or if he would be transferred somewhere at any time.

In the coming days, what will they give him? We are not allowed to talk to any doctor. We don’t know what types of medicines he is being given.

Today, Oscar’s face lighted up and said that last night he had dreamt with Miriam. He still has illusions! But tomorrow... They keep trying to crush his will! Given that they have not succeeded by psychological and physical tortures, it appears that now they are trying to do it with drugs. If I am mistaken they have to demonstrate it to me . Why don’t they let me see him until who knows when? What will they do to him all this time?

It is imperative that they let him go abroad to receive medical assistance, and even maybe a liver transplant. I am afraid that when they give him permission it would be too late.

My son’s life is shortening at a rapid rate and we can do absolutely nothing. We are totally helpless under absolute totalitarianism. They have the power to decide about our lives and our deaths

What would Dr. Carlos Lage, Vice-President of the Council of State think about what is happening to Oscar, to Marta Beatriz Roque and to so m any other prisoners? As a doctor he cannot possibly be supporting these criminal procedures.

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