The Monkees might have been a “canned” musical ensemble but they put out some good music in my mind. Who cares who wrote it or how much filler and backup singers they had to infuse it with. The line in the above song  had the phrase “charcoal burning everywhere” in the bridge. One of the terms I use to describe what happens after a TBI is charcoal brain. Nothing works. It won’t even light. All those normal functions we take for granted are screwed up and life is infinitely harder. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why they deserve SMC at the T rate. Their needs are far greater than yours or mine-by a magnitude of ten.

Did any of you ever see that drug commercial where the old boy holds up an egg and says “This is your brain.” Then he cracks the egg into the frying pan and says “This is your brain on drugs.” Well, multiply that. Think of TBI more like scrambled egg brain.

I don’t mean to come across as devoid of emotion or characterize charcoal brain as an insult either. If you’ve ever had your bell rung, you know full well what it feels like for a while-maybe forever- depending on the severity. An IED that reaches a 9 on the TBI Richter scale is some serious business. The longer you’re unconscious, the worse it’s going to be. It’s comparable to what happens to a NFL lineman after about 6 seasons all at once. You get fuzzy. You can’t remember your kids’ names. You sometimes get so dizzy you’d flunk the straight line test stone cold sober. You pull up to a stop sign and sit there waiting for it to turn green. That’s assuming you’re still foolish enough to be out driving and want to take your- and anyone else’s- lives into your hands.

As the title  of this article implies, I write to say that our Juju was good at Tony’s SMC T  Higher Level Review (HLR) informal conference last week. This is only the second one where  I’ve prevailed locally via an HLR. Most times, I have to go to the BVA and employ the carrot-and-stick technique and lead them to the obvious conclusion. Occam’s Razor doesn’t exist in VAland. At the VA, they’ll only believe in  SMC when they actually see  SMC.

I think I was blessed to draw Rebecca ________ as my Reviewer. She’s a DRO and was brutally honest in agreeing with me that on a scale of one to ten, SMC is right up there with brain surgery to VA raters. Most of these folks give you the dog-and-pony show approach and promise they’ll employ their electron microscopes and keep an open mind. On average, twenty eight minutes later the Rating Decision  pops up like a cork bobber on your fishing line. Sorry, Kimosabe but SMC isn’t in the cards for you today but thank you for your service.

I’m going to refrain from sharing all my SMC secrets from here on in for several reasons- the biggest one being I don’t want to keep tipping my poker hand to VA. Rebecca knew who I was- or had at least heard of me. Either that or she had spotted my name on a legal brief in the file with the asknod header at the top. In any case, I guess it isn’t a state secret I do a lot of SMC claims for the higher levels. I reckon I’d need more than a ghillie suit  to keep this all a secret.

If you don’t know how to win it, don’t expect VA to get all warm and fuzzy and explain what you need to achieve it. Every rating decision denying a higher SMC I’ve ever set eyes on merely said “Your current rating is confirmed and continued. Y’all come back now, hear?”  And, weirdly, by law, they know that under §3.103(f), there’s a punch list of things they need to explain to aid you in repairing your application for SMC T or R- or which ever SMC you’re fighting for. How is it they keep blowing us off on that regulation though?

I’m not sure if someone lit a fire under somebody’s ass somewhere to hurry up and crank out decisions RFN to make the stats look better in 2023, but my clients have all been on a tear. In just the last two weeks, a Vietnam Vet from LZ Cork won his BVA appeal for an L up to M rating back from early 2018 to the present, another Vietnam Vet with a CAR finally proved he’d been inside the 12-mile limit and got his DEA P&T back to early 2022, a surviving spouse got her DIC win in just over a year, my very good friend Terry, whom I also induced to become a VA Agent, got his R2 after an interminable seventeen-month delay, Allen got his SMC T up at the BVA, Tony just got his T last night and Harvey won his §3.156(c) claim back to 1989. Cool beans. My blind Vet Jim’s appeal just got the ‘signed by judge’ status from VLJ Osborne in Caseflow so that may metamorphose into another R1 tomorrow… or not.

Here’s Tony’s T in case any of you/they wish to see if he/she/they can glean any insights from it to win their claims. I publish these to show you winning SMC can be done but requires infinite patience. From start to finish, Tony’s win took slightly over a year from the day I pulled the POA.   Redact SMC T

I sure don’t want anyone to think this  SMC poker game is like falling off a log easy. It isn’t. Not by a long shot.  As for getting two SMC Ts in a week- now that is pretty heady stuff like scoring a hit with a .338 Win. Mag from a mile out. While claims for tinnitus or flat feet require you to follow a recipe like baking cookies, SMC resembles more of a pedantic chess game.  You have to react to your opponent’s every move accordingly. The wrong move can be fatal both legally and financially.

Congratulations Tony and Sheila. You’re now in a very small VA club. Thank you for letting me be your SMC Sherpa.

And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.