SACRAMENTO - In contrast to Wednesday’s contentious Little Hoover Commission hearing on the reorganization of state government, Thursday’s hearing on a new plan for the Department of Corrections was collegial – even punctuated with good humor from Roderick Hickman, secretary of the embattled department. But the feel-good moments were shattered when Nancy Mendoza stood from the audience and made herself heard.

Mendoza, whose son was shot in the head with a “foam” bullet by a prison guard at Wasco State Prison, used the hearing to get the attention of state officials. Her son, Daniel Provencio, 28, is currently at Mercy Hospital in Bakersfield and was pronounced “brain dead” by authorities. Provencio was arrested for drunk driving – a violation of his parole – and incarcerated. He had formerly served a three-year term for possessing, transporting and selling drugs.

Mendoza interrupted the hearing with an emotional plea to get more authority over her son’s fate and information from the Department of Corrections. She said her son is currently on life support and that Wasco Warden P.L. Vasquez wants Provencio to “serve out his sentence” from a hospital bed.

Mendoza picked the right venue to plead her case. The state’s top corrections officials were present at the meeting along with several senators – among them Sen. Jackie Spier, D-San Mateo, who has been a vocal critic of the corrections system.

Mendoza said she and her family have had repeated problems with hospital visitation since the Jan. 16 shooting and that prison officials won’t allow her to get another medical opinion about her son’s condition.

According to Brian Parriott, spokesman for the prison, Mendoza’s concerns are being addressed. “The family has requested a third opinion and medical records were released yesterday or the day before,” he said.

Parriott said that confidentiality rules prevent him from talking about Provencio’s condition.

Although the Bakersfield Californian reported that Mendoza and her family had their visitation privileges revoked just days after the shooting, Parriott said officials have worked with the family. “We have gone above and beyond as far as giving them the ability to visit,” he said. It was only after background checks and applications were completed that Mendoza’s family was allowed to return to Provencio’s bedside.

“They have him shackled to the bed, by both ankles,” Mendoza told The Union. “I don’t understand. Where is he going?”

Parriott admitted that the prisoner is shackled to the hospital bed as standard procedure.

Although early reports about the moments that led up to the shooting were unclear, Todd Slosek, assistant director of communications for the Department of Corrections, said an internal investigation is ongoing. Currently, the understanding is that two inmates were fighting and when guards came to break up the fight, Provencio tried to prevent the officers from intervening.

“The gunners are trained to shoot at zone one – the legs and arms,” Slosek said. The “foam” bullets are not designed to kill, but to cause enough pain to change the dynamics of a situation.

One newspaper report called the incident an “alcohol-fueled brawl between inmates.” The prison is investigating the production of high-proof alcohol by inmates who brew fruit, sugar and other common ingredients to make a powerful drink. Information about Provencio’s blood-alcohol level was not made public.

The Office of the Investigator General is also looking into the incident. Matthew Cate, the state’s investigator general, admitted the system of internal scrutiny could use some reform. “I think there should be increased transparency – and there should be an ability for an officer to go in [to an incident] in real time and oversee an investigation.” Cate is part of the top-level management that Gov. Schwarzenneger appointed to force changes to the state’s correctional system.

The sheer size of the department makes it difficult to address every incident equally, Cate said. “We get 4,000 to 5,000 complaints a year. We try to focus our resources in the most troubled areas.” Cate said his department has just 20 investigators to watch over the state’s population of 163,000 inmates.

The unexpected interruption to the hearing served as an example of endemic problems within the structure of the Department of Corrections. Some members of the Little Hoover Commission had earlier expressed an interest in seeing infractions such as some drug-related charges, be dealt with outside the prison system. Slosek remarked that, thus far, the department hasn’t had the resources to create those alternatives.

“For years, the agency hasn’t had a public policy or research component,” he said, adding that substance abuse programs, counseling and half-way houses might serve to reduce the prison population.

All these explanations don’t mean much to Mendoza who wants to have some influence over her son’s future. As she understands it, she won’t be able to make the important decision of whether or not Provencio will remain on life support. She did, however, succeed in getting the rapt attention of a body of people who can influence the future of corrections in the state.