Author: Henry Feeser (Page 6 of 65)

This is the second blog in our effort to prepare for whatever the VA may ask and/or require to support our application for Caretaker Support. In yesterday’s blog, I laid out our case for the Dialysis Bucket. Today, we will address the Heart/Cardio Bucket. But first, some news:

I ascertained yesterday that while we were notified of an appointment this coming Friday, we were not informed of the location. I called the Caretaker national support line and was told they would check in with the support responsible for the area in which we live. When I didn’t hear anything in a reasonable amount of time, I did a Google and called the Texas support line and was informed the text was for an audiology appointment, which has since been rescheduled by the provider, and no appointment had yet been made regarding our caretaker request. So we are ahead of the game at this point. In this regard, I have also started a daily log of all the activities my wife engages in to provide me direct caretage support.

Regarding my heart. I am currently receiving 60% VA disability as a result of a triple bypass in 2015, the need for which is directly tied to being a diabetic, which in turn is directly related to exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam. The current status of my heart, which was ascertained in February 2025, is that all is not as it should be on the backside, but due to my age and condition, nothing will be done about it. This condition manifests itself in several ways. I can not walk for any distance without becoming short of breath. My blood pressure is whacked; at times, it runs in the 150/80 range, low in the 100/55 range. Same with my pulse. At times, it is in the 80s, while at others in the 40s and 50s. Quite often, as a result, I just feel like crap.

What does my caregiver have to do with this? On numerous occasions, I have fainted just out of the blue. I can feel it coming on and do my best to gracefully go down if I’m outside, as I have been on at least three occasions or head for a couch or chair if inside. The EMTs have been called as a result of such behavior. My wife, as a caregiver, is sensitive to signals that I may be having an episode and ensures that I am cared for. In addition, she has assumed many of the household chores I normally took care of, such as taking out the weekly trash, working in the yard, many functions having to do with care and maintance of my dialysis equipment, sheduling support workers for home repairs, and other tasks involved in running a household.

Her caregiver support is essential and central to my continued living at home, also due to my compromised conditions, including my cardio deterioration

Last week, I posted on this blog that we (my wife and I) were applying for the VA assistance program cited in the title. Already, we have been scheduled for our first meeting with local authorities as the first step in their process. The meeting is this Friday, June 6th. Some things do move quickly.

Remember that this program is about the caregiver and was put in place to support caregivers so that they can and will continue to provide care and attendance to disabled vets. It is intended to support them in their effort to provide care and comfort to the vet, in this case, me.

We are currently developing a strategy to present our situation in a favorable light to the boards we will encounter. In blogs, for the remainder of the week, I intend to share our process. Starting with today, I will outline what we have defined as a starting point, that of the specifics of my VA disability ratings.

A firm requirement of the caregiver program is that the vet be rated at 70% disability or greater, have served on active duty for at least two years, and their disability be related to their active duty. I qualify on all of these counts as I am currently rated at 100% disability, served 25 years active duty, and all my VA ratings are tied back to Agent Orange exposure while in Combat Zones in Vietnam.

We have sorted my ratings into four baskets: 1 100% rating for nephropathy with hypertension resulting in seven days a week peritoneal dialysis, 2 60% rating for coronary artery disease resulting in shortness of breath given any exertion, and 3 60$ % rating for right leg diabetic neuropathy and 50% in left leg. Everything else is in basket 4.

Over the next three blogs, I will expand on the conditions cited in the previous paragraph and how my spouse, acting as a caregiver, is central to my being able to soldier on.

I don’t recall much being said during my PD training several years ago about handling “emergencies.” I’m referring to power outages and/or the need to disconnect from the cycler quickly in case of a tornado or other such threat.

Sunday night, right on cue, we were awakened to a message on my wife’s phone that a thunderstorm warning had been issued. As per usual, she was concerned and turned our household into one of turmoil, which lasted until well after 5 AM. Along the way, we dropped power, my cycler automatically switched over to its UPS, and our bedroom TV continued to work because of the UPS on it and our T-Mobile internet connection.

Since tornado threats were also involved, my wife placed a set ot clothes and shoes in our pantry off the kitchen, which is enclosed entirely by interior walls and is large enough for the two of us and our Golden, Dickens, to take cover in.

The power came back on after about 45 minutes of being down, and in the interim, I instructed my wife on how to use her phone to obtain real-time weather radar info, and how to obtain local tv news stations on the bedroom TV. So all-in-all it was a good drill in emergency preparedness.

BTW, regarding the Cycler: My plan is to just turn it off if it hasn’t already been shut down due to lack of power, unhook, and worry about draining any remaining fluid out when the dust settles. This could be into a sink, on the ground, into provided drain bags, etc. Worry about this later if the brown stuff hits the fan.

While on active duty in the US Navy, I was privileged to be the Officer-In-Charge of a first-of-its-kind land-based test site in Ronkonkomo, NY, out on Long Island. One of my crew at that time was a First Class Petty Officer named Robert Shippe. He went on to accomplish great things in the Navy, the last of which was to give his all. Read on below. Today I remember Shippie and all the Shippies who gave their all.

Senior Chief Petty Officer Robert Lawrence Shippee was a highly regarded member of the United States Navy, serving as a Fire Control Senior Chief aboard the USS Stark (FFG-31). He was born on June 10, 1951, and hailed from Adams Center, New York. Shippee was killed in action on May 17, 1987, when the USS Stark was struck by two Iraqi Exocet missiles in the Persian Gulf during the Iran-Iraq War

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At the time of the attack, Shippee was 35 years old and had served nearly 18 years in the Navy. He was the senior chief of fire control, responsible for overseeing the ship’s computer tracking systems for missiles. Shippee had recently lived in Ponte Vedra, Florida, near his home port of Mayport. He left behind his wife, Carol, and three children: Patricia (12), Timothy (10), and Brian (8)

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Shippee was remembered as a dedicated professional and a devoted family man. His funeral was held at the Seventh Day Baptist Church in Adams Center, with a large community turnout and full military honors, including a 21-gun salute and the presentation of the American flag and Purple Heart to his widow

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His legacy is honored in military tributes and memorials, recognizing his sacrifice and service in the line of duty.

We remember.