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My name’s Kyle. I’m 35, a proud Aboriginal man, and I’ve been inside this NSW prison for a few months. I just got sentenced the other day. I’ve got about four more months to go. That’s where I’m at right now. But there’s more to my story than just time.
I found out I had Hep C while I was in here. I didn’t know before. No one ever told me anything about it on the outside – what it was, what it did, how to deal with it. It just wasn’t something people talked about. Out there, people keep stuff like that quiet. Maybe they’re ashamed, or maybe they just don’t know. Either way, I went through years not even thinking about it.
Then one day, they were running a Closing the Gap thing in here. That’s like a health event with nurses and Aboriginal workers. They asked if I wanted to get tested for Hep C. I said yeah. I knew I probably should. I’d been injecting inside, and so had my brother. It wasn’t something I was proud of. So when they asked about the test, we both got tested.
When they told me I had Hep C, it felt like a punch in the gut. Not because I was shocked, I kind of expected it. But because I didn’t really know what it meant. I just knew it sounded bad. Hep C, I’d heard of it, but that was about it. Didn’t know what it did to your liver. Didn’t know it could be treated. I thought once you had it, that was it.
But the way they handled it in here wasn’t what I expected. There was no shame. No judgment. No lectures. Just, “You’ve got it. Here’s what we can do.” It wasn’t like they were telling me off. They were just straight with me. Calm. Respectful. Like, “It’s all good, we can fix it.”
The doctor and nurses got me on treatment straight away. No mucking around. The support was solid. I didn’t have to chase them or wait months. They explained everything properly, no injections, just a course of tablets over a few months. Then it was done. I was cured. I felt better. That was it. No side effects that I noticed, but some people do get them like headaches and tiredness. Just something simple. And it worked.
Getting that kind of help inside meant a lot. There’s not much in here that feels easy, or like people have your back. But this did. I actually felt looked after. Like someone wanted me to get well. That doesn’t happen a lot in jail. You’re usually left to figure stuff out on your own. But with this, the nurses were there the whole way through.
What meant the most was getting treated alongside my brother. He had Hep C too, and the nurses fixed it so we both started treatment at the same time. We didn’t plan that, but when they offered, we said yes straight away. Going through it together made us stronger. We backed each other. We reminded each other to keep taking the tablets. We talked about how it felt. It gave me something to focus on. Felt like a fresh start. Not just for me, but for him too.
I told my nurse, Emily, it felt like being clean again. Not just in my body, but in my head too. Like a weight had lifted. Emily gets it. She knows how hard it is to get health stuff sorted in prison. She says, “It’s hard – especially because people are in and out all the time.” That’s the truth. People fall through the cracks. They leave before treatment finishes and don’t stick with it, or they don’t even start. But I didn’t. It worked for me. I stayed. I finished it. I got cured.
And I’ve got another reason to stay healthy now. I found out I’ve got twins on the way. That hit me in a good way. Gave me something real to look forward to. Made me want to be ready. It’s not just about me anymore, it’s about being around for them.
When I heard about the twins, it kind of made everything click. Like, I’m not just doing this treatment to get better. I’m doing it so I can be a better dad.
In here, most days are just about getting through. That’s how it is. You put your head down and count the days. But hearing “you’ve got twins coming” – that changed things. Made me think about the future, not just the time. Gave me hope. Made me want to keep going. To come out strong. To show up for them.
That’s what I want people to know. Hep C isn’t the end. It’s something you can deal with.
If you and your doctor think it’s right for you, you can get tested, you can get treated, and you can walk out of here cured. It’s not hard. You just have to say yes. That’s what I did. And now I’m cured. That’s not a small thing. That’s a big thing.
If you’re inside and they offer you the test, take it. Don’t wait. If they tell you you’ve got it, don’t freak out. It can be sorted. Just like it was for me. I didn’t think it would be easy, but it was. The nurses helped. The treatment worked. And now it’s gone.
So yeah, that’s my story. I had it. They told me I had it, and then they helped me get rid of it .
I’m good now. And I’m ready for what’s next.
My name’s Kyle. I’m 35, a proud Aboriginal man, and I’ve been inside this NSW prison for a few months. I just got sentenced the other day. I’ve got about four more months to go. That’s where I’m at right now. But there’s more to my story than just time.
I found out I had Hep C while I was in here. I didn’t know before. No one ever told me anything about it on the outside – what it was, what it did, how to deal with it. It just wasn’t something people talked about. Out there, people keep stuff like that quiet. Maybe they’re ashamed, or maybe they just don’t know. Either way, I went through years not even thinking about it.
Then one day, they were running a Closing the Gap thing in here. That’s like a health event with nurses and Aboriginal workers. They asked if I wanted to get tested for Hep C. I said yeah. I knew I probably should. I’d been injecting inside, and so had my brother. It wasn’t something I was proud of. So when they asked about the test, we both got tested.
When they told me I had Hep C, it felt like a punch in the gut. Not because I was shocked, I kind of expected it. But because I didn’t really know what it meant. I just knew it sounded bad. Hep C, I’d heard of it, but that was about it. Didn’t know what it did to your liver. Didn’t know it could be treated. I thought once you had it, that was it.
But the way they handled it in here wasn’t what I expected. There was no shame. No judgment. No lectures. Just, “You’ve got it. Here’s what we can do.” It wasn’t like they were telling me off. They were just straight with me. Calm. Respectful. Like, “It’s all good, we can fix it.”
The doctor and nurses got me on treatment straight away. No mucking around. The support was solid. I didn’t have to chase them or wait months. They explained everything properly, no injections, just a course of tablets over a few months. Then it was done. I was cured. I felt better. That was it. No side effects that I noticed, but some people do get them like headaches and tiredness. Just something simple. And it worked.
Getting that kind of help inside meant a lot. There’s not much in here that feels easy, or like people have your back. But this did. I actually felt looked after. Like someone wanted me to get well. That doesn’t happen a lot in jail. You’re usually left to figure stuff out on your own. But with this, the nurses were there the whole way through.
What meant the most was getting treated alongside my brother. He had Hep C too, and the nurses fixed it so we both started treatment at the same time. We didn’t plan that, but when they offered, we said yes straight away. Going through it together made us stronger. We backed each other. We reminded each other to keep taking the tablets. We talked about how it felt. It gave me something to focus on. Felt like a fresh start. Not just for me, but for him too.
I told my nurse, Emily, it felt like being clean again. Not just in my body, but in my head too. Like a weight had lifted. Emily gets it. She knows how hard it is to get health stuff sorted in prison. She says, “It’s hard – especially because people are in and out all the time.” That’s the truth. People fall through the cracks. They leave before treatment finishes and don’t stick with it, or they don’t even start. But I didn’t. It worked for me. I stayed. I finished it. I got cured.
And I’ve got another reason to stay healthy now. I found out I’ve got twins on the way. That hit me in a good way. Gave me something real to look forward to. Made me want to be ready. It’s not just about me anymore, it’s about being around for them.
When I heard about the twins, it kind of made everything click. Like, I’m not just doing this treatment to get better. I’m doing it so I can be a better dad.
In here, most days are just about getting through. That’s how it is. You put your head down and count the days. But hearing “you’ve got twins coming” – that changed things. Made me think about the future, not just the time. Gave me hope. Made me want to keep going. To come out strong. To show up for them.
That’s what I want people to know. Hep C isn’t the end. It’s something you can deal with.
If you and your doctor think it’s right for you, you can get tested, you can get treated, and you can walk out of here cured. It’s not hard. You just have to say yes. That’s what I did. And now I’m cured. That’s not a small thing. That’s a big thing.
If you’re inside and they offer you the test, take it. Don’t wait. If they tell you you’ve got it, don’t freak out. It can be sorted. Just like it was for me. I didn’t think it would be easy, but it was. The nurses helped. The treatment worked. And now it’s gone.
So yeah, that’s my story. I had it. They told me I had it, and then they helped me get rid of it .
I’m good now. And I’m ready for what’s next.
Developed by Justice Health and Forensic Mental Health Network NSW, the provider of healthcare services to people involved with the criminal justice and forensic mental health systems in NSW.
Call HepLink (1800 437 222) for hepatitis information and support. HepLink is a free and confidential service and does not require a Medicare card. Normal call rates apply.
You can also call AIVL, the peer-led peak organisation advancing the wellbeing, health and human rights of people who use drugs, on 1800-MYAIVL(692485) for information and peer support, it is free, confidential, and no Medicare is required.
The appropriate treatment for an individual patient is for the healthcare professional to decide, in consultation with the patient.
Funded by:
Gilead Sciences Pty Ltd.
Level 28, 385 Bourke Street
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia.
ABN: 71 072 611 708
Date of preparation:
June 2025, AU-UNB-0974
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