Molly Davis, Nashville Tennessean
Christa Pike, in her first public comments one month after she survived a botched execution in Tennessee, said she is in constant physical and mental pain.
"I had not contemplated life beyond that night, and I’m deeply hurt by the incompetence that has put so many people in this terrible position," she said in the 460-word statement. "I continue to think about my victim’s family and the terrible pain and loss they have endured."
Pike was sentenced to death for the 1985 murder of 19-year-old Colleen Slemmer in Knoxville. Pike was 18 at the time.
Pike survived two rounds of lethal injection drugs on Sept. 30 and was taken in critical condition to a hospital, where she didn't regain consciousness for days.
The failed execution, the second to go wrong in the state this year, threw Tennessee's lethal injection procedures into the national spotlight. Gov. Bill Lee paused all executions and ordered an investigation, and the state's prison commissioner Frank Strada resigned.
Since Oct. 10, Pike has been back at the Debra K. Johnson Rehabilitation Center in Nashville, where she has been held for more than 30 years. She continues to receive medical care in the prison's infirmary.
"I am recovering, and I know that I am getting stronger," she said in her statement. "But healing is not the same as being okay.
"Since that night, I have been largely isolated in the prison’s medical ward, away from other people and the human connections that mean so much to me. That isolation brings its own kind of pain."
It is unclear whether Pike will eventually face execution again. Lee has made no indication that he plans to intervene in Pike's case.
"As it relates to a particular individual like Christa Pike and her crime, she is still incarcerated under the laws of the state of Tennessee, and I suspect her sentence will be the same as it was before, unless determined otherwise by the courts," Lee told reporters Oct. 28.
What went wrong during Christa Pike's attempted execution?
At about 7:40 p.m. on Sept. 30, Pike was administered the first dose of pentobarbital, the drug used in Tennessee's lethal injection process. Another dose was given at around 8 p.m., according to the timeline of events given by media witnesses who were present.
Attorneys for Pike, one of whom was with her throughout the execution day, said it took more than an hour for the IV team to set the lines, and they used at least seven needles. Afterward, attorneys said Pike's arms were badly swollen, bruised and blistered, possibly from the execution drug leaking into her arm tissue instead of circulating through her bloodstream.
After an hour of waiting for Pike to die, the execution attempt was stopped and emergency services were called at 8:40 p.m.
A chaotic scene unfolded when a 911 call didn't follow protocol, delaying medical care.
Pike was driven by ambulance to a Nashville-area hospital, where she was intubated and on a ventilator for multiple days. On Oct. 6, attorneys for Pike said she was awake and speaking for the first time since the execution attempt. She was standing up and walking again on Oct. 8 and was discharged from the hospital on Oct. 10.
Christa Pike's full statement: 'I am trying to heal'
The following is Christa Pike's full statement, released one month after her attempted execution:
"One month ago on September 30, I walked into the execution chamber at Riverbend men’s prison prepared to die. I had made my peace. I had told the people who loved me, supported me and stood by me through the years I was grateful for them. I had also told the people in the room and who were there to witness my execution that I was leaving them in loving kindness.
Several days later I woke up alone in a hospital confused and in pain. There hasn't been a moment since that night when I haven't been in pain. My body hurts. My arms hurt. My hands hurt. My throat hurts. I still struggle to speak. And the pain isn't just physical. There is pain in my mind and in my soul.
I had not contemplated life beyond that night, and I’m deeply hurt by the incompetence that has put so many people in this terrible position. I continue to think about my victim’s family and the terrible pain and loss they have endured.
I am recovering, and I know that I am getting stronger. But healing is not the same as being okay.
Since that night, I have been largely isolated in the prison’s medical ward, away from other people and the human connections that mean so much to me. That isolation brings its own kind of pain. I spent 28 years in solitary confinement and much of what I am experiencing today is a repeat of that condition.
I am searching for meaning in what happened to me. One thing that has given me strength is the extraordinary love and support I have received from people around the world. I am overwhelmed by the kindness and prayers of people I have known for years and complete strangers who have never met me. To know that so many people care about me, that they see me as a human being whose life matters, is something I cannot fully put into words. It is humbling, and it has touched me more deeply than I can explain.
I also want to thank the first responders, doctors, nurses and everyone at the hospital who cared for me. They treated me with compassion, dignity and respect. I will never forget their kindness. I also want to thank my attorneys and everyone who has fought for me, stood beside me and refused to give up on me.
I don't know why I survived that night. I don't know what comes next. Some days, finding hope is harder than others. For now, I am trying to heal, one day at a time. And I am holding on to the love and kindness of so many people who have reminded me that I am not alone."
Molly Davis covers growth and development in Nashville and assists with special projects. You can email her with comments, questions and tips at mmdavis@tennessean.com.
