You Think You’re Covered

You think you’re going to be okay.

You have insurance. You have a plan. You’ve worked, paid in, and tried to do the responsible thing. You assume that when something goes seriously wrong, there will be a system there to help.

Then it happens to someone you love.

My father spent ten years in the military. He spent another twenty years working for an organization with a pension. He has what we understood to be a top-tier insurance plan. He’s a veteran.

Now he has Parkinson’s and dementia.

And as we try to get him the care he needs, we keep running into gaps we never knew were there. The help we thought we could count on hasn’t been there in the way we expected.

It feels like none of it is covered.

I’m talking about what our family is facing. Having insurance and being able to get the care my dad needs have turned out to be two very different things.

That blows my mind.

There are also concerns that the high levels of radiation he was exposed to during his military service may be connected to what is happening to him now. That adds another layer of frustration and questions to something that is already overwhelming.

Meanwhile, he needs care. Today.

And trying to get someone from the VA on the phone can feel like a job of its own.

The people I have actually spoken with there have been fantastic. Kind, caring human beings. I want to be clear about that because they deserve that recognition.

But getting through to them is a nightmare. Waiting for a callback. Trying again. Missing that call when it finally comes and wondering how long it will take to connect again.

It feels like the people trying to help don’t have the time or resources they need. And the families trying to reach them are already dealing with more than they know how to carry.

You’re watching someone you love struggle. You’re trying to understand what comes next. And somehow, in the middle of all of that, you’re supposed to figure out an entire system you thought you could rely on.

I cannot understand how we ask people to serve this country and leave families struggling this hard to find help when those people need care.

I also have to be honest about something uncomfortable.

I’m talking about this now because it affects my family.

I didn’t understand it before. I’d like to say that if I had known, I would have spoken up. I hope I would have.

Maybe I wouldn’t have.

That’s hard to admit. But I’m saying something now.

I don’t hear enough about this. I certainly didn’t understand the gap between believing you’re prepared and finding out what happens when you actually need help.

It’s depressing. It’s disappointing. And I’m angry.

My dad deserves better. The people trying to help him deserve a system that gives them a chance to do their jobs. Other families going through this deserve better, too.

Our country should be better than this.

We should be able to take care of people when they need us.