Ways the VA Healthcare Program is Hurting Local Veterans

            Prior to moving to the Durango, Colorado area, I had been enrolled in what is called the Choice Program, which provides military veterans, as well as their dependents, to obtain care from community resources that are not provided through the VA system. This is the system I used to receive services such as rheumatology, gastroenterology, and dermatology. For the most part, this system helped to provide me with the resources I require to tend to my health needs. Sure, the physicians and specialists could have just as well been military doctors, as I received the same quality of care from them...and that is not saying much, considering my previous experience with military doctors, but I digress.

            When I had my initial appointment with my new primary care provider, I was told something that just came across as blatantly wrong. See, my doctor told me that my only options to see these types of specialists would be to drive nearly 4 hours each way to the large VA facility in Albuquerque, which is insane to suggest, or not see any specialists. Sure, they have a courtesy shuttle van that takes patients to the larger facility, but you must plan your day around the appointments of others, so you would either leave early, or must stay late, depending on the schedule for that day. The other option just was not feasible either, as I have a family history of colon and bone cancer, as well as having been diagnosed with a myriad of chronic pain conditions.

I live at a Level E on a daily basis, just for reference

            You know the saying “if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is?” Well, that is applicable to my situation, but rather replace “good” with “wrong” and you see where I am going with this, right? Well, when I met with the social worker at my local VA clinic, she repeated the same incorrect information regarding the Choice Program. She told me that, while there are services in town, such as support groups, there is little in the way of community resources that address symptoms. I can’t really go to a support group for my colonoscopy or endoscopy now, can I?

            My social worker also told me that I am my own advocate for my health, which is a phrase that she might be wishing she didn’t say. See, I thought that the information I was provided by not just one, but two medical professionals at my local VA clinic, sounded incorrect. Just in case though, I called the Choice Program directly, and boy, am I glad. The representative that I spoke with was just as befuddled by what I was told as I was when I heard it. It helped to put my mind at ease, knowing that I was correct about this program, as well as the fact that I would (hopefully) be able to see a provider here in the community, as my symptoms have increased since my last visit to the shoddy rheumatologist who reprimanded me for crying out in pain when he took a biopsy from my thigh at 5:30 in the morning, before I was fully numb. But again, I digress and that, along with the other numerous experiences I have had with military health officials and those covered by the Choice Program.

            So, here is my conundrum. Yes, I am my strongest advocate for both my mental and physical health. The soonest they could schedule me with a mental health professional (to address my depression, anxiety, PTSD, and MST) is the end of February, and even then, it would be only via tele-health. That falls outside of the 30 days or 30-mile rule that applies to the Choice Program (maybe not the distance, but certainly the time-frame). In the past, I have conveniently fallen through the VA health cracks, as it had taken me 18 months to even get an appointment with a rheumatologist, as the original request somehow got lost. I know that I am in the right and have a whole organization and website that provides me with the answers to help to support my position. I know that I am most likely not the only veteran in the area who has been fed this lie. However, I may be the only one to raise a little hell over the incorrect information that could have potentially affected the lives of a significant number of veterans living in the area.

            I have been known to let my emotions get the best of me, particularly when I know that I am in the right. This isn’t just relegated to my health, but also where we used to live, I have been physically threatened when I spoke up for the poor treatment of the dogs I would witness running in the street. As if it were my fault that I recognized this behavior as wrong and dangerous. I am not kidding. I wish I were. So, I need to come up with a game plan of sorts, as I know that I need to go into the clinic and let them know that they are wrong, that I qualify to see community providers that honor the Choice Program in the area. I know that other veterans have experienced this same type of treatment. The sooner the better, but, dude, I am not looking forward to it. I just need to keep my cool, and remember why I am doing this...for the health of not only myself, but the countless veterans who have received the same misinformation. Sadly, I know that this not only applies to my local clinic, but the Portland, Oregon one too, as that is who contacted me to set up my appointment for the tele-health mental health sessions...I was told that since they can provide me with the tele-health services, then I don’t qualify for community care. Well, that is not true either.

Stranger Danger!

So, we are FINALLY moved. Still a lot of unpacking and a bit of frustration, but isn’t that to be expected when you have three weeks to find a place and move to a different state, all while finishing up your last course before you graduate with a MS in clinical psychology with a specialization in applied research, while also living with the lovely symptoms of fibromyalgia and most likely stress-induced fainting?

The new place is nice and is the first one in a while where there was carpet. Our neurotic dog Downey, as well as myself, appreciate it. One thing that I am not digging though, is the weird and creepy owner of the house. See, we went through a property management agency, which has not been too weird in the past when we used one when we moved to New Mexico. However, this guy, see, we have lived here all of a week and he has come by twice, yesterday and today, to water our yard. Normally that wouldn’t qualify as being creepy, but, dude, he has a strange vibe. Sort of like a person who you just KNOW has a body or two in his basement. Normal weird and strange, I can dig, but this is just... different. It has also rained since he came over last (yesterday), so I don’t know why he is back again to water.

I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time relaxing when there are strangers (or even non-strangers) in my house or on my property. As someone living with a chronic pain condition, the added stress of having a property owner lurking around is just something I do not need. We have been here a week. A. Week. Now, tell me how I am supposed to relax in the few hours a week I get that isn’t devoted to cleaning, school, work, other job work, taking care of our non-human friends, etc… when there is a weirdo creeping around outside. I hope that Strange Steve will make his presence scarce once he sees that we will take care of his place. However, isn’t that what a property manager is supposed to do? To manage your property as an intermediary so that you can rest assured that your home would be cared for by the tenants who rent from the property manager?

I will keep you updated.

Uprooting and Stress: Is There a Better Way?

Imagine this with explosive diarrhea

     

Nature's Pain Relief

       Dude. I don’t even know where to start. It has been such a whirlwind and at times it feels as if I am barely hanging on, fingers about to slip into the swirling vortex of stress, anxiety, and, at times, depression. Fun times, right? Let’s not forget about the physical effects of this emotional turmoil, as I live with fibromyalgia and small fiber neuropathy, which can be aggravated by stress. Good thing I am not stressed, right? Oh, and diverticulitis and IBS are also affected by stress, so we’re over here playing naked Twister, trying not to soil ourselves. Great visual, right?            

So, how did we get here? Trees and heat. Seriously. See, I am not a fan of the heat and grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, where the use of air conditioners was not something that was common, as the fog would often roll in, working as Mother Nature’s air conditioning. I currently live in the desert. Sure, there are some trees, but nothing like I lived among in the Pacific Northwest, where I was living prior to moving to Texas, then New Mexico. Fortunately, I work from home, so as long as I have an internet connection and WiFi, I’m good. Well, my boyfriend has been putting in for jobs with his company in various states, but all of which had cooler weather and either medicinal or recreational marijuana. Those were our main criteria.

Animals are friends for life. Not disposable. Not ours to eat or breed.

            Fast forward a few months and DING-DING-DING, we are bound for Durango, Colorado. Oh, and his supervisor wants him there in about two weeks. TWO WEEKS. TWO. MOTHERFUCKING. WEEKS. Not a problem. Let’s just work on finding a place, packing up all of our belongings, including our dogs, a turtle, and fish (because we are not the kind of people who put dogs up on Craigslist for “free” because they are moving to a new place that doesn’t allow pets), and move to another state in two weeks. Simple, right? Fuck.

            So, in order to ensure that we are not homeless once we arrive in Durango, we took a trip up there. Leaving a little before 5am and getting back after 10pm, it was a long day. But, we met with a realtor who showed us a place that we had been talking with the current tenant and landlord. Everything was going well until Monday morning, today, when I received an email from the current tenant, who stated that the landlord was not satisfied with our background check (namely my credit report), and as such, we would not be considered further for the house that we wanted to rent. Hopes? Dashed to smithereens. My heart sank.

Guaranteed to make you feel sexy as hell

            Perhaps my mood to hearing that we wouldn’t be able to rent the house we looked at was intensified due to an event that occurred earlier in the day. I have been having terrible post nasal drip for the past few months. It got to the point where I physically collapsed several times, hitting my head on a hard surface a few times due to becoming very lightheaded while trying to clear my throat of stuff that can only be described as having the consistency of cold molasses. I finally conceded to go to our local VA health clinic, where they gave me a shot of an anti inflammatory and prescriptions to the EXACT SAME FUCKING THING I HAD BEEN TAKING. Same dose. They then told me to come back into the clinic within the following week if I am not feeling better.

Not so Breaking News

Well, I am not feeling better, so I went back to the VA clinic this morning, prior to hearing the news about the place. Good thing too, as I would have probably been placed on a 5150 hold and unable to do the things I need to do in regards to the move, school, and work. After filling out the triage form, I took a seat and waited to be called back to be seen. That would not happen today, as a nurse (?) called me up to the window and told me that they can’t see me anymore since I had been referred out via the Choice program and had a civilian primary care provider now. Well, I saw that person once, for about five minutes, and she didn’t listen to me at all during that time. I was also told the previous week to return to the clinic location if I wasn’t feeling better. See the frustration?

Not actual house

So, we’re back to square one, looking for a place to live, while residing in a different state, seven hours away. We have expanded our search radius. I didn’t want to, as it snows there and my boyfriend will have to drive in the snow, which is why I wanted to be relatively close to his work, which is in Durango. We will be filling out more applications. One place looks like a murder house, but it’ll do for now, as the owner will be fixing it up more come the warmer months and then put it up for rent for a much higher price I presume.

You can donate by hitting the word PayPal

I am not one to ask for help lightly. I often pride myself on my ability to do things all by myself. However, I am not sure I will be able to maintain my sanity without a little help. I have been diagnosed with a number of chronic pain conditions, which are intensified by stress. I am trying to keep myself together, as the next month will be very stressful. If possible, if you feel so inclined, I have set up a link via PayPal if you would like to help me to maintain some sanity while we go through this stressful time. My boyfriend’s company isn’t providing any relocation assistance, so it’s just us, our savings, and rescues. After we get settled in the new place, wherever that may be, I will be working on my mental and physical health, finishing up my last course towards my MS degree in Clinical Psychology with a specialization in Applied Research, and hopefully able to breathe once again.

Thank you for reading and feel free to share this post with others 😀 

First World Problem, But it Sucks!

Okay, so I know that this may come across as one of those “First World Problems” such as getting the wrong order at Starfucks or getting your earbud cord tangled. However, that being said, today’s issue has led to a severe impact in my daily life. This morning as I was walking one of our dogs, an untethered dog came running towards us. In an effort to protect my dog from the loose one, my phone fell out of my pocket. So, let me preface this with the fact that I have never cracked a screen on a phone or tablet. However, this morning, when I picked up my phone after it falling, face down, of course, I noticed it had two cracks. Fuck. Even more fuck? The touch screen stopped working. I could see that I had notifications, but I was unable to respond to them.

This is where this issue turns from a “First World Problem” to a real problem. As a freelance writer and a remote employee for my university’s library system, I rely on my phone as a way to maintain communication with my clients and the professors who I assist as the library resource assistant. Without being able to communicate with them, it can cost me jobs, which, in turn, can affect my daily living abilities.

I have had this phone since 2015, so it has been with me a while. Luckily, my boyfriend was able to lend me his phone while we purchased him a $35 phone to use for the time being. As a graduate student and freelance writer, my income varies. Having to come up with money to buy a new phone, pay bills, rent, food for us and the dogs, utilities...it all adds up. It also sucks that I have to pay close to $350 this month to my school since they changed the drop deadline when I was enrolled in a course I wasn’t required to take and another fee when I had to reschedule my residency week due to poor health (fibromyalgia can be unpredictable). So, while I have the money, I don’t really have it.

I really like the Moto interface and the accessibility options, particularly the approach feature that allows me to see my notifications without having to physically touch the phone. I know I am spoiled. I try that with my other electronics, but it doesn’t work (LOL). I don’t know. It’s just been a stressful day, which piggybacked on a stressful night, as some dolt was lighting off fireworks last night. It’s June. It’s illegal. It’s inconsiderate. Don’t be a dolt. I am already dreading the first week of July, as last year it was nearly intolerable with the fireworks shooting off, but that is for another post.

I think I will look for estimates to repair my 2015 Moto X Pure, as well as save up for the upcoming Moto X4, which should be released within the next month or two. I guess it is a good thing that my birthday is next month. Any money I receive will be going towards my school loans and a new phone. Not exactly what I wanted to happen, but at least there is a way to remedy the situation. The hardest part about breaking my phone was the fact that I am HORRIBLE at remembering things such as passwords and user IDs.

Hopefully tomorrow is better!