Prioritizing Physical and Mental Health in Corrections

On November 18, 2024, at approximately 8:30 AM, while at work for Northampton County Department of Corrections in eastern Pennsylvania, I experienced a significant cardiac episode, which led to a 5-day stay in the hospital. Reflecting on that day, the warning signs were there, but being the stubborn, middle-aged guy that I am, I dismissed it being nothing serious. If anything, it likely stemmed from my crappy diet and too much drinking.

When I arrived at work that morning, I was exceptionally tired, having immense stomach pain, and experiencing what I initially thought to be acid reflux, which was why I had nasty heartburn. While sitting at my desk, I started feeling faint, dizzy, and sick to my stomach. Then came the headache, shortness of breath, and more troublesome, my heart started racing so fast and so powerfully, that I could literally feel my heartbeats hitting my rib cage. I started to walk towards my secretary’s office and told her to call for a nurse. Thankfully, like most correctional facilities, we have a medical staff that works 24/7/365 at my facility.

The response time from my secretary, officers, supervisors, and nurses was beyond impressive. They responded lightning fast and worked together flawlessly. Reflecting back, I was most definitely in the right place/right time to experience an unexpected cardiac incident. As I lay on the ground, in pain, clutching my chest, I heard someone say that my blood pressure was over 200. I’ve had blood pressure issues for years, but this was the highest that it’s ever been. Keep in mind that I never lost consciousness, but I was in a major brain fog, and the pain in my chest was intense. I heard someone say, “He’s having a heart attack,” so they placed the portable AED pads on my chest, yelled clear, and then shocked me with what felt like a million volts of electricity. Yes, I was awake when they zapped me, and yes, it was incredibly painful. I begged them not to shock me again.

My team called 911 and then they carried me down to the waiting ambulance where I was quickly rushed to the hospital. When I arrived, my wife, my secretary, and one of my captains met me in the hospital’s emergency room. I should note that I’ve never been hospitalized overnight, so at age 57, this was my first real medical scare, and it was definitely memorable.

Diagnosis and Life-Changing News

The initial diagnosis was a suspected heart attack, so a team of doctors, nurses, and other specialists rushed in, surrounded me, asked me a million questions, drew several vials of blood, and hooked me up to several machines. It was quickly determined by the ER doctors that I did not have a heart attack, but instead, I was diagnosed with ventricular fibrillation (V-fib), which I soon learned is a life-threatening heart rhythm disorder in which the ventricles (lower chamber of the heart) quiver irregularly instead of contracting normally.

In non-medical terms, a sustained V-fib episode can lead to sudden cardiac arrest or sudden cardiac death. Over the next few hours, I had to undergo additional tests and then came the news that I was dreading. I would need to have a defibrillator implanted into my chest. If I didn’t, there was a high probability that I would not survive the next episode. Defibrillators are devices that apply an electric charge, or current, to the heart to restore a normal heartbeat. If the heart rhythm stops due to cardiac arrest, also known as sudden cardiac arrest, the defibrillator will help the heart start beating again.

I vividly remember the cardiologist taking a seat next to my bed to deliver the news. I was told that I wouldn’t be able to work or drive for at least 3-6 months. As the Director of Corrections for Northampton County, Pennsylvania, this was a huge blow. I’m literally at the end of my career and this was definitely not how I wanted to retire. As you can imagine, a million thoughts went through my head. Prior to being hospitalized, I had been relatively healthy, or so I thought, but over the past few years, I had gained weight, started drinking more, and started eating more. I have always worked out, but I was more fatigued than in past years. I attributed this to getting older and working in a high-stressed position.

Reflections on Correctional Wellness

The irony of this is that for the past 10 years, I have presented, published, and trained on the importance of correctional officer/staff wellness. It’s a topic that I’m passionate about, but I wasn’t practicing what I had been preaching to others for nearly a decade. Our profession, as you likely know, has high rates of problem drinking, prescription drug misuse, divorce, depression, anxiety, PTSD, and suicide. We, as a profession, have a higher likelihood of developing cardiovascular disease. The average correctional officer has a life expectancy of age 59. Since I was 57 at the time, I nearly became one of the statistics that I constantly cite in my publications and at conferences. I kept thinking, how can this happen to someone who knows virtually everything imaginable on this topic? I’ve learned that as corrections professional and professor at American Military University, I was accustomed to giving advice but not taking to my own advice.

In this profession, we see, hear, and participate in situations, which those outside of corrections cannot fathom. Over time, we become desensitized, jaded, and cynical. We repress our emotions and if we do express them, they’re more likely to be described as irritable, angry, and frustrated. Men, in particular, are less likely to communicate, but men that work in corrections are even less likely to be big communicators. The phrase, “sharing is caring,” is not something that we embrace. We still think that talking about emotions makes us appear weak, vulnerable, and not suitable for this profession, and that way of thinking needs to change. I jokingly tell my staff that when your body’s check engine light goes on, don’t dismiss as being “nothing serious” like I did. Listen to your body. Your mental health and physical health are connected in more ways than you can imagine.

Commitment to Lifestyle Changes

After I was discharged from the hospital, I immediately started making lifestyle changes, which included focusing more on cardio workouts, eating cleaner, and limiting my drinking. Nevertheless, I’ve done this in the past and always failed. It’s sort of like how many approach New Year’s resolutions – always gung-ho in the beginning and then you resort back to your old ways, which are often within your comfort zone. I knew that I was just setting myself up to fail, so I needed to find someone to help me.

I reached out to The Center for Functional Health because I didn’t want to be prescribed more medication before I could have an opportunity to try to make some changes in my life. I wanted to see if I could do this by changing what I eat, when I eat, and how I eat. Dr. Michael Kaye and his wife, Frances, have been absolutely incredible from the start. Dr. Kaye, a functional doctor, put me on a new workout regimen; suggested third-party tested supplements, and created a meal plan based on keto. Trust me; I did not “diet” in the traditional sense. I was eating 5-6 times per day, but my meals were strategically timed, portion-controlled, and organic. Organic eating is more expensive, there’s no denying that, but the price of organic foods pales in comparison to a 5-day hospital stay.

Dr. Kaye and Frances were instrumental in the changes that I have made. Within less than 2 months, I lost 17 lbs., have more energy, and most importantly, my blood pressure is 100% under control, which is something that I struggled with for years. No additional prescriptions, no fancy diet pills/injections – just hard work, accountability, and sticking to a structured routine. They say that new habits are created after 60 days, which I agree with. I’ve now switched from Keto to the Mediterranean diet simply because the Mediterranean diet appeals to my European roots as an Italian-American. I have an incredibly positive outlook on life and I’m excited about the future with my wife, children, and future grandkids. Remember that we’re fighters, so don’t forget to fight for your mental and physical health. Self-care is not selfish by any means. The shift in priorities is a “must” in our profession. Don’t be foolish like I was.

__________________________________

Michael Pittaro, PhD is the Director of corrections for Northampton County’s Department of Corrections in Pennsylvania and serves as a criminal justice professor with American Military University. He continues to serve internationally as an author, speaker, and subject matter expert. He is also a QPR certified suicide prevention facilitator for first responders and has a master’s certification in emotional intelligence. He can be reached at crimeNjustice@ptd.net