training for VA claims examiners?

I guess I'm not the only one who believes that the big mess that is the VA claims process, including a tremendous backlog of cases waiting to be processed and reprocessed, could be largely cleaned up by training the claims adjudicators so that they rule on claims accurately and fairly the first time. Today it can take ten years or more for a veteran to get a claim through the system, and for that veteran to be compensated at the correct and fair percentage of disability.

Congressman Jeff Miller (R-FL), the Chairman of the Subcommittee on Disability Assistance and Memorial Affairs, recently held an oversight hearing on just that subject.

He thinks the way to improve the system is not just to add staff, but to actually train them, so that the system functions in the non-adversarial way that it was originally designed to function.

Wow, what a concept! Too bad it's just a hearing, and may wind up going nowhere. Sort of like the way my own claim has meandered through the system for the past nine years.

It took four years for the VA to decide I was disabled at all. Now we are bickering over the percentage, even though their own Vocational Rehabilitation Division has decided that I am unemployable, and even though, based on my VA claims file, the Social Security Administration has decided that I am disabled.

Social Security doesn't have to pay me a dime, though (except a death benefit to my kids, should I die), because I worked part time while I was disabled, and didn't earn enough credits to be entitled to Social Security disability within the last ten years.

Ain't the government great?

delay, lie, deny, wait for the veteran to die

I do believe that is the unofficial motto of the Department of Veterans Affairs. The Haas case proves that. Remember the U. S. Court of Appeals case that Jonathan Haas recently won? His case set the precedent that veterans who hadn't officially set foot on land in Vietnam, but who were in the waters (or skies), and who were thus exposed to Agent Orange, could claim presumptive service-connected disorders. A rare victory for veterans.

Well, read this.

The VA is not going to process those claims at this time because it is considering an appeal. That's right. Even though they lost the case at the U.S. Court of Appeals, they are not acting in accordance with the ruling.

What will be the repercussions to the VA officials for thumbing their noses at this ruling?

Zilch. Nada. Nothing. No matter how many claims they screw up, no matter how many veterans die waiting for relief and help, there are no consequences to these folks. Just a regular salary and nice benefits.

The real reform we need to the veterans compensation system isn't necessarily another layer of attorneys to represent veterans, but rather some serious consequences to the VA employees, bosses and underlings alike, who lose files, misinterpret files, refuse to follow their own directives, and otherwise screw up veterans' cases, leading to despair and poverty among veterans.

Where else can you work where you can do anything you want to a "client" and have no repercussions whatsoever?

what passes for health care in rural Ohio

If you are an umarried woman living in rural Ohio, and you want to obtain a prescription for emergency contraception, well, good luck with that. From The Den of the Biting Beaver comes this sordid tale of one woman's attempt to get something that she made the mistake of thinking that she, as an American citizen, was entitled to have without needing to justify her sexual habits and marital situation to strangers.

The motto of the Biting Beaver is "gnawing away at sexism and misogyny, one patriarchal asshole at a time!" Sadly, the Beaver has got her work cut out for her in this red state.

(Cross-posted at Waffle Ass.)

smarter than me

I have a teenage son. And as so many teenagers are, he is smarter than I am. Just ask him. He has everything figured out.

That doesn't detract from the fact that sometimes he is smarter than I am.

Last night he commented that there was a time when he hated me. I have rheumatoid arthritis, recently diagnosed, but I've had it for at least four years. I used to refer to it as the "mystery disease." It changed my life, and not for the better as far as I was concerned. I hated the disease. I hated the changes in my life. I had always been very physically active. I ran a horse stable and conducted riding lessons by myself. I went to horse shows. Running a barn requires a lot of physical work, like cleaning stalls, stacking hay, carrying water buckets, stuff like that. Teaching riding lessons requires grooming and tacking up horses, and a lot of walking and sometimes running to stay with the students who may not have great balance, and need reassurance.

So the mystery disease slowly ended my career as a riding instructor and as a barn manager. I was faced with not knowing who I was without that identity. Also, whose body was this? The one that wasn't strong anymore? I had defined myself as an athlete, and now I wasn't one.

At the same time I was struggling with Veterans Health Care physicians to convince them that I had a physical illness that was causing me severe pain and disability. They thought it was just part and parcel of my PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). In other words, I was crazy, not sick. No, I insisted, I am crazy and sick.

So I went through a long period of depression. I alternated between giving up and continuing to fight for health care. And I endured a lot of untreated pain. In the meantime my joints were starting to be eaten away by the RA.

The time when I was so depressed, my son says, was the time when he hated me. He explained, "Every change brings something positive, you just may not see it at the time. Maybe it's something you've already done, or something so small that you don't see it, or something you are doing now, that doesn't seem important to you."

This amazed me, coming from the boy who once told me, "The glass isn't half full. The glass isn't half empty. The glass is fucking broken." Ok, we both laughed about that one, which was part of the point. Inanity, you know?

Back to the part about changes. So what positive changes have resulted from the RA?

I am no longer arrogant about physical superiority. Make no mistake, I was arrogant. I was a very talented, agile rider, and I looked down on people who weren't fit. I took my own fitness and good health for granted. So, can it be that perhaps I have developed more compassion and empathy?

I get to shop at the local store on the day when seniors and the disabled get 5% off. This means most of my fellow shoppers are retirees. I used to find them annoying because they moved so slowly down the aisles, and I had Lots Of Important Things To Do. For some reason this isn't an issue for me any more. I also have the opportunity to smile at people at the store, and sometimes make brief small talk. We have a common bond, the willingness to be kind.

I no longer have a barn full of horses to take care of. I have one 24-year old horse whom I have "owned" for 20 years. We have been to all of the local shows and have a wall full of ribbons. He has taught lessons for me for years, and I can't count how many mortgage payments he made on this place through his hard work. Now I have the time to groom him every day before I turn him out into his pasture. He nickers to me and "grooms" me back by rubbing his mouth on my shoulder or arm. I get to watch him walk around his pasture eating grass, and he is beautiful because his coat is clean and shiny, and because I love him.

I've discovered that some people don't believe in disabilities. They just have no imagination or empathy or something. Many people who used to be friends decided to cut and run. Then there are those who don't. I have discovered that one good friend, like one good horse, is enough to bring happiness, peace, and love to my life.

And then there is that son of mine, to always remind me that sometimes family can be friends too. Even if they used to hate you.

"I'd rather shoot people than go to church"

We discuss all kinds of things at my house:war, humanity’s inhumanity to man (and to woman), ethics, poverty, and all sorts of social issues. Because I have PTSD, and because I believe that random bad stuff just happens sometimes, and that people (read common and leaders) do too little to reduce those bad things, I suppose I have been quite an influence on my two boys.

I am beginning to appreciate that more as the older one (16 going on 17) grows up and speaks out. I hope that my jaded attitude hasn’t harmed him.

When he was little, and I was experimenting with my attitudes toward religion (I am a recovering Catholic), I attended the Church of the Brethren for a few years. The Church of the Brethren seemed to fit my lifestyle of simplicity, nonviolence, and the desire to minimize destruction of the earth’s resources. Being one of the Brethren was almost like being Amish, without the requirement of having lots of babies, which was one of the problems I had with Catholicism as well.

This predated our nation's current involvement with Iraq and Afghanistan. My older boy was still quite young, and I dragged him to church with me. I convinced the pastor that he was of the "age of reason," and he and I were baptized into the Brethren faith. This provides my son with conscientious objector status if the draft is reinstated, which was also a factor in my choice.

Well, we drifted away from that church. Its members tended not to be as tolerant as I am. There was a little scandal at a neighboring church about a cross-dressing couple. Some people got pretty excited about that. Maybe they weren’t cross-dressing in dark enough clothes, I don’t know.

Anyway, my feeling has always been, gee, I don’t care who people sleep with or what they wear. Just don’t proposition me, my kids, or my horse, okay? Also, with the PTSD, I guess I don’t play or pray well with others.

We stopped going to church. Somewhere along the line my older boy has decided that religion is the root of all evil. I kind of get his point. He watches the news. Christians, Muslims, fighting, stupidity. Righteous people thinking poor people must be inherently bad and lazy or they wouldn’t be poor. It goes on. Plus, he has watched me struggle to provide for him and his brother, and fight for benefits from the Veterans Administration (one nation under God).

A few weeks ago I mentioned the Brethren connection to him. I told him that if a draft is reinstated he should find God again right away, and start attending services. He demurred.

Last night on the way home from the grocery store he told me, “I’d rather kill people than go to church.” Extreme?

Okay, I think he was trying to make me laugh, and it worked. Then again, it might be true. What does that say about the impact of religion on our children? Not as a cause of unity and peace, but an excuse for intolerance and violence against those who are different.

What would Jesus think?