How long do I have to be cuffed and shackled to this hospital bed?
In June 2023, ZMO Law client Kiana Burgess was riding the 4 train when she experienced what so many New York women have experienced: a man pushing himself into her physical space. The guy saw there were plenty of open seats, but picked the one next to her anyway, half sitting on her lap in the process. She told him to move, and he proceeded to yell at her, angrily. As she got off the train, he shoved her. Kiana did what many women would have done: she turned around and punched him.
In a normal world, that would be the end of the interaction. She would walk away, and the guy—one hopes—might think twice before harassing another woman.
Instead, thanks to clever NYPD officers, Kiana ended up with life-threatening diabetes complications, handcuffed and shackled to a bed at New York Presbyterian Hospital for five days without seeing a judge for an arraignment. When she had to go to the bathroom, a police officer refused to unchain her. When the cop had to go, he helped himself to the hospital room bathroom and left the door wide open.
How could this happen in 2024 New York?
Kiana is a young black woman.
When her “victim” went whining to the police, Kiana ended up cuffed.
Making matters worse, the fellow was over 65. Under the New York Penal Law, causing “physical injury” to someone over 65 is Second Degree Assault, a violent felony with a mandatory minimum of 2 years prison time if she were convicted (presumably the law is intended to protect the elderly, not jerks who shove women who don’t want to sit next to them). Whether the prosecution could prove physical injury here was questionable at best, but over-charging—especially given the mass hysteria around subway crimes—is a common problem in the Manhattan district attorney’s office.
Kiana has no criminal record. She worked as a paraprofessional at a public school before the arrest. She is an insulin-dependent diabetic, which she told police from the moment they cuffed her. She told the officers that she did not have insulin with her and she would need it soon. Rather than take her to get medical attention and insulin from the hospital (or even better, let her go with a desk appearance ticket), the officer told her to keep the medical information to herself, claiming it would slow down her (totally unnecessary) arraignment if she needed medical care.
Kiana did not follow the cop’s advice, which, actually could have killed her.
Rather, when she got to central booking at the Manhattan courthouse, she informed the officer there—and a nurse who saw her—that she needed insulin immediately. They ignored her, leaving her in a cell to await arraignment as she got sicker and sicker. She asked again and again for medical care, feeling the effects that she knew could quickly lead to a diabetic coma if she did not receive insulin quickly. Finally, when she began repeatedly vomiting, an ambulance was called and Kiana was taken to the hospital.
At the hospital, her legs were shackled, and her wrist cuffed to the bed. She was in acute distress and sent to the ICU, suffering from diabetic ketoacidosis. Within 48 hours she was stabilized and ready to leave, but the police refused to allow her to bring insulin with her when she went back to court, so the hospital could not release her safely.
So Kiana waited for an arraignment. And waited. And waited.
While she waited, Kiana’s legs remained shackled. Her wrist stayed cuffed to the bed. A police officer sat near her bed at all times, different officers rotating in shift after shift. No one knew when she was going to be arraigned, even though after COVID hospital-based video arraignments are routine and easy to do.
Most of the officers were, at least, professional, if a bit unconcerned with safeguarding her right to a speedy arraignment. They would unshackle and uncuff her so she could use the bathroom. One allowed her to shower. They all refused to allow her to make phone calls, insisting that it was “against department policy.” She could not speak to her mother or her girlfriend.
One officer seemed to enjoy tormenting her. Unlike the other officers who used the bathroom down the hall, this one insisted on using the bathroom in Kiana’s hospital room, leaving the door open so she could hear him. When Kiana had to go to the bathroom, he refused to uncuff her. He told her to wet the bed. Hopsital nurses tried to help her but this particular officer did not care. With the help of the nurses, Kiana complained to police supervisors, a new officer was sent to the hospital, and she was allowed to use the bathroom.
But Kiana still couldn’t call her family. Up until that point always mentally healthy, Kiana began to experience suicidal ideation. in the hospital room. She felt like she was going crazy. She had been days chained to a bed for days with no contact with the outside world and no knowledge of when she would be arraigned and released. The nurses became increasingly concerned. A psychiatrist encouraged her to write out her thoughts, but the officer on the power trip took her pen away, insisting she might “use it as a weapon.” The nurses mediated and eventually, she was allowed to use a marker.
But still Kiana waited for arraignment. Finally, after five days, she saw a judge. Bail was set at an astonishing $10,000, which her mother promptly paid. After an overnight at Rikers, she went home.
The so-called “violent” felony she was charged with ultimately resolved with a penal law “violation,” which is not a crime in New York. In the meantime, Kiana lost her job at a school, and her sense of security. Like all New Yorkers, she sees members of the NYPD every day. She takes the subway daily, and when she sees officers there, anxiety and frustration rise quickly, reminding her every day of the five days she spent chained to a bed for nothing more than being a diabetic who tried to protect her bodily autonomy when molested on the subway.
Our office has filed suit against the officers. But needless shackling of prisoners and unwarranted delays will continue to happen to New Yorkers until the policies of the NYPD are reformed. Kiana is ZMO Law’s second client who has been held multiple days, cuffed and shackled to a hospital bed, awaiting arraignment in blatant violation of New York law (which requires arraignment in 24 hours) and the U.S. Constitution (which demands arraignment within 48 hours). For the entire five days she was in NYPD custody, including while she was in ICU, Kiana was alert, in a private room, and competent to be arraigned. All someone had to do was FaceTime the courtroom.
Depositions in our prior case showed that Kiana’s experience is typical, not an exception. The NYPD acts without urgency when an individual is hospitalized before arraignment. There is no policy forcing officers to ensure a quick arraignment. Overtime accrues for officers tasked with waiting at the hospital for the arraignment to happen. To add to the injury, NYPD policy requires detainees to be shackled and handcuffed regardless of whether there is any risk of flight or to safety—a blatant violation of the Constitution in its own right.
The NYPD must be held to the requirements of New York State law and the U.S. Constitution. If you, or anyone you know, has been held at hospital without an arraignment by the NYPD, do not hesitate to reach out to ZMO Law for a consultation.
AI generated image by Canva.