c.
2018 Rod Ice
All
rights reserved
(7-18)
Unexpected.
As
the oldest child in my generation and the one chosen to handle
matters of the family estate, once my father had passed away, I knew
the challenges would be many. In arranging for the care of my elderly
mother, far from home and in another state, it seemed likely that the
distance involved would add difficulty to whatever needed to be done.
Still, I wanted to honor the tradition set when she and my father
moved south, over 32 years ago.
For
Mom & Dad, West Virginia truly was ‘almost heaven.’
What
I did not expect was the daunting task of getting my mother qualified
for Medicaid payments to the nursing home. The process began in
February, when my sister had found both of our parents living in
conditions that could no longer be tolerated. Her kind demeanor and
patience finally broke a stalemate that had lasted for several years.
Dad, ever the independent chief of our brood, finally relented. He
had become too frail for being at home, even with help from neighbors
and friends in the church community.
Sister
began the paperwork with their local DHHR, the state’s Department
of Health and Human Resources. When statements began to arrive in the
mail, I did not feel great concern. We were in the midst of bidding
farewell to our father and pondering the mighty job ahead of clearing
out the family residence.
But
again and again, Mom’s application for Medicaid was rejected. Each
time with a new excuse. Too much money on hand, when their accounts
were locked and out of reach. Or, not enough documents submitted. Or,
deadlines not met. Finally, a life insurance policy not copied and
forwarded. Then, back to the assets on hand, once again.
Eventually,
I received a letter from the nursing home demanding that I accept
personal responsibility for the mounting debt mother had accrued. A
feat that was, of course, literally impossible. Being a disabled
business manager and former newspaper editor, my own worth was only a
few hundred dollars. I decided to take charge of the Medicaid
approval and started making phone calls immediately. But my
expectation of finding aid and comfort were exploded. Instead of
offering a path to gaining coverage for my mother, those involved
were more like claim adjusters seeking to limit liability for an
insurance company.
I
felt very naive. Only one priority kept me focused – taking care of
Mom.
As
these turbulent events were transpiring, I had written to Senator Joe
Manchin III about the situation. I suggested that he might consider
legislation to help families like ours who were stuck in such a
conundrum. He was a favorite of both parents. In particular for Mom,
who had always been an old-fashioned, conservative Democrat. His
response could not have been more welcome:
Dear
Mr. Ice,
I
have received your letter regarding the difficulties that you’ve
encountered in settling your father’s estate and arranging for care
for your mother. I’m sorry to learn of the difficulties that you
and your family are experiencing during this process, and would like
to be supportive in any way that I’m able. As you may be aware, the
Privacy Act of 1974 requires that I have written permission before I
can make any inquiry on an individual’s behalf. If you would like
assistance in contacting the West Virginia Department of Health and
Human Resources regarding your mother(‘s) Medicaid application,
please complete the attached authorization form…
With
Warmest Regards, Joe Manchin III
I
had opened the letter at the home of my sister and brother-in-law,
after finding it in my mailbox at the Chardon post office. Everyone
cheered upon hearing it read aloud. I completed the form eagerly and
mailed it to his Martinsburg, WV office, the next day.
“We
have been trying to get Medicaid approval since February… we have
been warned that she may be evicted… God bless you for helping!”
While
we were officially at a standstill, waiting for our court date on
September 7th
to take charge of Mom’s affairs, the letter provided relief. I
bowed my head and gave thanks, silently. My sister’s eyes grew wide
with amazement. Then, full with joyful tears.
The
‘Mom & Dad’ file in my home-office cabinet had already become
overfull, yet I felt gladdened to place another document in the
folder. One I knew would make my mother proud if she were clear
enough of mind to read it for herself. The journey would continue as
her needs remained paramount in our thoughts. Hope
had made
us stronger.
Gratitude
echoed across our family. “God bless you, Senator Joe!”
Comments
about ‘Words On The Loose’ may be sent to:
icewritesforyou@gmail.com
Write
us at: P. O. Box 365 Chardon, OH 44024
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