On the love side, I'm thankful for that income and the good healthcare I get from my local VA medical clinic. On the hate side, I have twelve years of begging and pleading for the benefits I have now, like Olliver Twist asking, "Please, sir, I want some more..." Its hard to maintain the love while the bill collecting vultures are circling overhead. Waiting for VA to make a decision feels like that some times.
When I first learned I had five years worth of benefits coming to me I was over joyed. When the VA accounting department underpaid me I was put off. When I pointed out the error I was told I was wrong. When I got my congressman's help to sort it out I was pleased to find I was right all along (and of course I needed the money). It was one of the first few VA 'mistakes' I have learned to expect now. The year was 2005.
After I used the back pay I had received to buy my house, I grew ill. It was the culmination of a dozen little things that had bothered me health-wise that finally dragged me down enough to admit there was a problem. I had never considered myself disabled, and had a hard time adjusting to that title, but here I was unable to do what had been second nature to me before. The darkness was closing in around me. Things went from bad to worse. In the end, the VA Vocational Rehabilitation program helped pull me out of the hole I was in, mentally and financially.
That part of my VA experience goes in the love category. The counselors I met through voc rehab genuinely cared about how I was doing and how they could help me. The school work didn't always turn out to be what I could handle, but getting out of the cocoon I had made for myself at home was just what I needed. I finished a voc rehab sponsored program and graduated at the top of my class of twelve other disabled veterans. I even got hired by the school to teach more disabled veterans to do what I had done and learn to work from home. By the end of 2008 I knew I was headed for another bout with my illness (which I'd never been given a diagnosis for) and resigned from my position at work.
After two more years of claims and appeals I was moved from the 80% disabled rating to the 90% disabled rating. I was tired, diagnosed with about six more conditions, and ready to give up. But I'm stubborn and delusional when it comes to hope. I felt like I should have been rated at 100% and with my wife's support, decided to push on with my appeal.
I found a lawyer who handled cases like mine and brought her the plastic tote full of paperwork I'd been hoarding throughout this process. We talked for about an hour and she was convinced that I was already doing everything I could. She didn't want to take my case and cut into whatever back pay I had coming. I asked her to take me on anyway as my mental faculties have already deteriorated since starting my claim. My health continues to decline, my energy levels are lower than ever, and every day I feel a little more diminished than I was the day before.
That brings us to today. It's a New Year and I still have hope. The VA is continuing to drag their feet on my appeal, and delaying a decision despite my lawyer's best efforts to the contrary. I still have my congressman's office involved and I'm hoping the pressure from his office may help speed things up. It has worked for me before. Wish me luck... I surely need it.
No comments:
Post a Comment