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Death Sentence

Continued from page 1

Published on December 06, 2007

Even so, Krow says it's up to the state to classify its own inmates, and that even a small adjustment could mean coverage for people like Isberg.

Isberg says administrators at his halfway house — Correctional Management Incorporated's Columbine home — did offer one solution: Go to Denver Health and pretend to be homeless. That way, the comcor residents would qualify for the indigent-care program; an applicant needs only a note from a homeless shelter to get in.

But CMI president Scott Wood disputes Isberg's story. "We would not tell any participant in our program to be dishonest," he says. "That is the whole point of the program, to change your life and do the right thing."

Still, Merrill Carter, a community health advisor at Denver Health, says he sometimes encounters halfway house inmates faking to get care. "I think there are a fair number of inmates being treated at Denver Health who came in and said they were homeless," he says. "They are desperate. They are trying to get health care. I can't say I blame them. They are trying to take care of themselves.... These guys are in a catch-22. Someone needs to stand up and say, 'We'll take care of these guys.'"

In early October, Isberg was released from CMI Columbine with an ankle monitor, and he rented an apartment in Capitol Hill. But the day after he moved into his new place, he showed up to work drunk and demanded a raise. Then he didn't show up to work at all. He drank for days straight, cut off his ankle monitor and fled to Lakewood, where the police found him.

"I knew I had to have my operation, but I didn't know what the outcome would be," Isberg says. "I just got stupid. Once I started drinking, I didn't care. I was tired of blood coming out of my urine and thinking, 'What the hell is going on?'"

On the day Isberg was scheduled to have surgery, he sat in jail awaiting a hearing to determine whether he'd return to the halfway house or be sent back to prison for his escape attempt. Last week, he learned it would be six months behind bars.

And though he had hoped for comcor, going back to prison may be better for his health. This way, he'll have his cancer treated free of charge.

"They'll have to do it for me when I'm doing time," he says.

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