"MANDATORY MADNESS"
JUNE 17, 2004
THE STORY: After being convicted of drug trafficking and other offenses, chronic pain sufferer Richard Paey of Pasco County was sentenced to a mandatory minimum of 25 years in state prison. Sheriff's deputies surveilled Paey (pronounced "Pay") for weeks and never produced any evidence that he had sold a single pill. A jury found him guilty of fraudulently obtaining prescriptions of opiate pain relievers, each of which exceeded 28 grams. Illegally possessing that amount in Florida gets you 25 years, whether you've sold any or not. Paey insists that he needed them all to manage his own excruciating agony, the result of botched back surgery in the '80s. He further insisted that his prescriptions from a New Jersey doctor were legitimate.
For its part, the State Attorney's Office in Pasco offered Paey a number of plea deals — at first house arrest and probation, then shorter jail terms. But after one mistrial, another verdict vacated by the judge and an aborted attempt at a plea bargain, Paey was convicted during a third trial. Jurors were not permitted to know that he was facing such a stiff mandatory minimum. Several figured he'd get probation.
Instead, Paey, who also has multiple sclerosis and is wheelchair-bound, was sent to Zephyrhills Correctional Institute in June '05 to begin serving a quarter century behind bars, while an attorney worked on an appeal. Paey was not sure whether the Department of Corrections would continue to fill his morphine pump, which he had surgically implanted during his legal travails; it proved far and away the most effective treatment for his pain.
On a personal note, this is the most harrowing story I've ever written. Richard Paey's punishment definitely does not fit his crime.
WHAT HAPPENED NEXT: Over the summer, I received a letter, hand-written on notebook paper and stained with sweat. It was from Richard Paey, telling me he'd been moved out of the relative comfort of the Zephyrhills prison (where doctors had filled his morphine pump) to a confinement cell in Lake Butler north of Gainesville.
Paey, who's particularly heat-sensitive because of his M.S., wrote that he was "[cooking] in the heat," adding, "I'm alone in the cell. I have a 1-inch mat on top of a steel shelf for my bed. I get two sheets. It has a toilet and sink. That's it. The door is solid steel; I'm fed through the flap."
Paey's abrupt move came shortly after he was interviewed on camera for Nightline and columnist John Tierney wrote of his plight in the New York Times. Paey and his wife Linda firmly believe that he was moved to a harsher environment because the DOC wanted to further punish him.
Prison officials said only that they were moving Paey for security reasons — his internal morphine pump was apparently a temptation to other inmates — and a health evaluation. Linda Paey says she could never discern who was responsible for ordering Richard's relocation. After three weeks in Lake Butler, and no medical evaluation, Paey was moved to the Tomoka Correctional Institution in Daytona, which he's been told is his permanent location.
Linda described his living conditions: "Where in Zephyrhills he was in with an older population, he's now in an area with 60 or 70 guys, more hardened cases. He's had his life threatened twice, once for rolling [his wheelchair] over a guy's foot, and the other, the guy said he was looking at him funny. There's no air-conditioning like his unit in Zephyrhills had. We're hoping he's not still in there when summer comes around."
Through all of this, the Paeys fret over whether the DOC will continue to refill Richard's morphine pump. "We hear different things all the time," Linda said, "so every time he's due for a refill, we're very anxious that he won't get it, especially considering the retribution from the DOC."
Paey has become a cause célèbre for those who bemoan the criminalization of chronic pain sufferers. And even behind bars, he's something of an activist for the cause.
"A lot of websites and blogs have picked up his case," Linda said. "He can't believe all the letters he's getting. That keeps him strong mentally, keeps him in the fight."
I wasn't able to interview Richard for this piece, but Linda visited him in prison and he hand-wrote answers to a few questions.
"Even though you're going through hell, your situation seems to be raising awareness about pain sufferers," I wrote. "Is it worth it?"
"Most people in America believe people in pain are getting care and that that goal isn't compromised by our efforts to control illegal drugs," he answered. "But they are wrong. People are living in pain and dying in pain. … We need to put patients first or we will continue to destroy innocent lives. Pain relief is about being able to be with and to participate with family and community. I'm willing to suffer, if necessary, to achieve that goal."
Paey's most high-profile media exposure is yet to come. Morley Safer interviewed him on camera for 60 Minutes, and the show's producers have told Linda that a segment should run in early '06. They want the story to more closely coincide with his appeal being heard.
On that front, Oregon appellate attorney Eli Stutsman has exchanged briefs with the state and is hoping that oral arguments will be scheduled for January. The appeal revolves around the alleged perjured testimony of Paey's New Jersey doctor, and bad jury instructions from the court. Stutsman also argues that Paey's is an "extreme case wherein the sentence was grossly disproportionate to the severity of the crime."
Regarding the appeal, Paey wrote to me: "I know I was wrongly convicted, the appeal makes that clear. For me, the appeal may offer me my only day in court." Linda added: "Rich doesn't feel that the last trial gave him that."
This article appears in Jan 4-10, 2006.