Sunday, September 23, 2007

A Call For Help

We headed out to go to a powow (not sure how to spell that) on Saturday, when Chris got a call. There was a veteran who'd fallen behind on his bills. So far behind that although he paid his rent on time, he hadn't eaten in a few days, hadn't had his medication in a few months. We met up with Elaine and Deb.

Let me tell you about these two extraordinary women. Deb is the one that had gotten the call from the vet. She immediately sprang into action, calling necessary people, so that we could all go help. She did this despite the fact that her daughter-in-law was in labor two states away. She should have gotten on the road to go see her new grandbaby, anyone would have understood. But she didn't. Instead she delayed seeing her new grandbaby, so that she could be there to help this vet. Amazing woman.

Then there's Elaine. She, herself, is a vet. She was an Army nurse in Vietnam. To this day, she works at the veteran's home, taking good care of our vets. She just learned how to ride a motorcycle. When she dropped the bike in training classes, the instructor told her she wouldn't ride. Elaine told her, "Oh yes I will. The only reason I am learning is so that I can ride for our vets. I paid my money. Now you will teach me." And she learned.

We all met up and went to this veteran's home. He didn't have much. Rail-thin, it was immediately apparent he needed help. Perhaps it was the threat of starving or perhaps he'd just had enough, he finally had called for help. "I'm sixty-two years old," he said, "This is the first time I've ever asked for help."

Elaine went over all his paperwork. The VA had classified him incorrectly. On paper, it appeared he was drowning in wealth, but when taken into account all the bills he had to pay, it was clear she had to do something. The first thing was to make sure he ate. The second thing was to make sure he got his meds. He had a heart condition, as well as diabetes. He had heart medication that he was supposed to be taking daily, but given the fact that he had run out of money, he was hoarding them away, taking them only once a week. The third thing was to help him out in the long run. He had had two open-heart surgeries in the past. They had discharged him from the hospital, leaving him to drive himself home and take care of himself. I listened as he told me how hard it was that first week out of surgery. He had gone it alone.

Elaine, Deb and Joel went out grocery shopping with Elaine talking to the pharmacist and paying for a week's worth of his medication. He had six different ones, one of them being seven dollars a pill (it adds up to about $200 a month for just one of his medications). This woman has a heart of gold, I tell ya. I stayed behind to speak with him some more. I wanted to reiterate the fact that he shouldn't feel ashamed or be too proud to ask for help. There are lots of people willing to help. I wanted to build his comfort level with us, because I was afraid that once we left, he'd not go back to the VA. Elaine's husband, Ken and my Chris spoke with him, too, reassuring him that he more than deserved to get his benefits.

Once Elaine and Deb returned, Deb and I set about putting his groceries away. I discovered an opened can of sweet potatos and a plate of moldy lunch meat in his fridge. Nothing else. It broke my heart. Elaine had called the VA, set about getting new paperwork, so that they could make sure it was all filled out correctly. She explained everything to him, as well as, making sure he understood all of his medications and when to take them, etc. I had gone out to the car to get a bottle of soda Chris had bought me. I hadn't wanted it, now I am so glad I hadn't drunk any of it. I gave it to him in the hopes it would bring his sugar level up a bit. He seemed to enjoy it.

I had also called my boss in the hopes that I could see about getting a tracphone donated to him. He didn't have a phone; I was worried that if something happened, he had no way to call for help. Being that he'd gone so long without his meds, every bad scenario came to my mind. We gave him a bit of money for gas, so that he could make his next VA appointment.

As we all hugged good-bye, he broke down a bit, telling us that we'd probably just saved his life. Joel and Ken spoke up and said, "No, brother, you saved ours."

We eventually did get to the powow. It was amazing, but this veteran certainly will stay in my heart for a very long time. He is just one of many that gets lost in our system, but perhaps if we take it one by one, we can make a difference. He certainly made a difference to us.