This article was originally published in The Cajun Press out of Raymond Laborde Correctional Center in Louisiana. It won first place for best feature in the 2025 American Penal Press Contest.
“I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe,” Bobby Kimball repeated, shaking his head slowly. It was early April and I was interviewing Kimball, a close friend, outside the infirmary. We were on a picnic table, accompanied by Puppy, a black cat with a weird but endearing habit of drooling while cuddling up to anyone who gives her attention. I petted her absentmindedly while Kimball talked. It had been almost a month since Kimball suffered a heart attack, and I wanted to know how he was dealing with life after going through a near death experience. The weather was pure spring: sunshine warming our backs, a soft breeze drifting through the sallyport, and birds chirping nearby — it was a vibe. It was, oddly, a beautiful day to talk about such a tragic incident.
Almost everyone at RLCC knows Bobby Kimball. He’s what you’d call a local celebrity. Both the incarcerated and staff hold him in high regard. He has this lively, magnetic energy — always smiling, always laughing. No matter the situation, Kimball has a way of smoothing over hardship with humor and optimism. Even now, after having a heart attack, he clung to that optimism. “I feel strong Deese,” he kept repeating to me. “I just can’t breathe.”
Just a few days before his 66th birthday, Kimball began experiencing pain in his chest. He explained it as a tightness in his chest. At first he brushed it off, thinking he must’ve inhaled too much bleach or stripper while cleaning the Classification Building, where he works at. Then he thought his chest was probably tight due to a couple sets of pull ups he did the day before. But two nights in something felt different — more serious. He couldn’t breathe. Kimball has asthma and COPD — a lung disease usually brought on by smoking — and assumed it was another asthma attack, which he’s had plenty of times before. He made an emergency sick call. When he arrived, the nurses jumped into action. Almost immediately, they suspected a heart attack and called an ambulance. It’s a good thing they did.
At the hospital, doctors found five blockages in his heart. He was rushed into emergency quintuple bypass surgery, a serious, open-heart procedure where veins from his leg were used to bypass the blocked arteries. But things got worse. “I had fluid building up in my body,” he told me. “I swoll’ up twice my size. My lungs filled with fluid. I was unrecognizable.” In the middle of the heart surgery, doctors had to perform an additional procedure to drain fluid from his lungs. It became a life-or-death situation. “It was so rare,” Kimball said. “Doctors and surgeons from all over the hospital came to my room. They couldn’t believe what was happening.” Doctors later told him the fluid build-up was likely triggered by his COPD. Even a month later, his legs were still swollen. During our interview, I noticed liquid seeping from the surgical scars on his legs, trickling down in thin lines. He tied socks around his ankles to catch the drops.
Heart attacks are typically caused by blood clots blocking arteries, often due to plaque buildup from high blood pressure, diabetes, high cholesterol, and smoking. Kimball suffered from all of these. He told me he believed his diet and high cholesterol were the main culprits. But I knew he was a heavy smoker, so I pressed him on that. Eventually, he admitted that smoking probably played the biggest role in damaging his heart. He had smoked for over 50 years. “I used to be so healthy when I started smoking,” he said, trying to justify it. “I ran track, played football, I had wind, I had endurance. I didn’t think smoking was affecting me because I couldn’t feel it.”
When Kimball got back from the hospital after the surgery, he went back to his tier. I was ecstatic to hear he made it back and went to check on him early the next morning. In front his tier I screamed “Bobby!” His head popped up from his bunk and he sprang out of bed, walking briskly to the bars. You’d never guess he had just undergone open-heart surgery. He was smiling and cracking jokes, saying he felt fine. He appeared to be his usual energized and upbeat self. I was shocked. My dad had just had a similar surgery done and was incapacitated for weeks, bound to bed in severe pain and exhaustion. Talking to Kimball I couldn’t detect any exhaustion or pain. The next day however I caught him walking to pill-call. He looked exhausted. He had to stop just to catch his breath. I told him he needed to take it easy. He just shook his head stubbornly and kept walking. It hit me then, he was masking his pain, trying to act normal. Not long after, he was placed back in the infirmary to have constant access to a breathing machine. “I felt so strong when I got back from surgery,” he told me again. “I just couldn’t breathe.”
I could tell he craved conversation that day. Kimball is a social person, always talking to someone. Being confined in the infirmary must’ve been tough on his spirit. “I’m pretty stressed,” he admitted. It wasn’t just the heart attack, or being stuck in a medical unit, it was everything. Aging in prison. Political affairs, watching the world outside shift and stumble. Feeling left behind. “Its hard, Deese,” he said. “From being stuck in a hospital bed with wires, rods, and IVs sticking out of my body after surgery, to realizing I’m getting old in prison and seeing how it’s getting harder to make parole.” He said he kept pushing himself hard because he didn’t want to accept that he was aging. “It’s like a nightmare. It has taken a psychological toll. I thought I’d heal faster, like I was still young. But I guess I’m not. It’s depressing.”
Our conversation shifted to politics. We talked about Jessie Hoffman, the incarcerated man at Angola who was recently executed. “They basically suffocated him,” Kimball said somberly. “I feel like I can relate to that. I feel like I’m being suffocated.” Kimball has been incarcerated for 19 years, serving concurrent sentences of 50 and 30 years. He wondered aloud whether the stress of growing older in prison contributed to his heart attack. I didn’t know what to say, other than to agree stress absolutely plays a huge role in our health.
“Most people don’t really understand the role the heart plays in the body,” Kimball said, changing the topic off his stress. “If the heart isn’t right, it can throw your whole body off. It can affect your lungs, breathing, your nervous system.” He wanted people on the compound to know that heart attacks can be prevented. “Stop smoking,” he said firmly. “Smoking damages not just your heart, but your lungs and your urinary tract.” And how you eat? “That’s everything too. My heart attack was 100% lifestyle.”
Kimball also made sure I included his gratitude for the medical staff and administration. “All the wardens, even Warden Marcus Myers, came to check on me,” he said. “And the nurses on D-Team that night? Erica Benjamin, Denica Bazile, Mala French, and Allison Stewart, I owe my life to them. I truly appreciate the support I got during all this.”
We spoke for nearly two hours. We talked about his heart, Elon Musk (you can imagine what he had to say about him!), life, everything. I could tell he was getting winded, so we wrapped it up. I said goodbye to Puppy, rubbing her back one last time. “You good?” I asked Kimball. “I’m good!” he said brightly. “I’ve been eating healthy. Now I just gotta be patient. My strength is there. My breathing not yet. But I’m ready to get back on the iron pile!”
As I stood up from the table, a man in fresh prison blues and brogans walked out of the infirmary with an officer. He carried an orange trash bag with his belongings. He wasn’t shackled. The officer opened the gate for him and led him to a van. Is he going home?” Kimball asked. “I think so,” I said. We watched the van drive off together. Kimball looked at me and said, quietly, “That has to be a good feeling.”
