Well, pilgrims. It’s Sunday morning and I feel that spirit moving me to bore you all to tears again with my drivel. But if even one TBI’d or PTSD’d Veteran read this blog and came to me, I’d be plumb honored to represent him (or her). Bear with me here. If I have another conjunctive of ‘him or her’ later in this blog, I’ll reverse the order to ensure dignity, equality and Title IX compliance to avoid being cancelled.

I always try to keep in mind that 42.6% of you folks don’t exactly cotton to what I preach according to statistics. For some reason, all the major Veterans help sites have banned me. Was it something I said? To be fair, I guess if I had time, I’d get me a Utube™ station and grow a bodacious Amish beard, wear tacky cowboy hats and dark three-piece suits with a turtleneck sweater. I could invent and recite absolutely bogus Vet rules from a teleprompter and charge ungodly prices to join my Army. I could even invite you to my most inner circle for a couple thou more. You’d have unlimited access to me every day of the week from 0900 to 0905 Local (subject to availability).

I’ve been writing this blog since 2008 when I won. I’ve helped a lot of people -some of whom have become fast friends and some who have passed away enroute to their win. As I am fond of saying, “If the shoe were on the other foot and you had been blessed with this knowledge I have absorbed, I know without any doubt that you would do the same for me.” Brothers in War do not change their stripes when Peace breaks out. Or at least  Enlisted ranks don’t. It’s a thing the Marines started way back when about not leaving anyone behind.

My day job in 1970

Which, of course, brings us to Lee Dorsey’s classic 1966 song. Imagine a Veteran- let’s call him Johnny Vet- E 3, FNG USAF Military Police. Johnbo gets his orders for Tuy Hòa in ’69 fall and arrives just in time for Monsoon. He gets one of them plumb job of Pig gunner on the perimeter in the back of a M 151 jeep. Nothing like getting some cool wind in your hair on a dark jungle highway and a sit down job, huh? About this time, Johnny started getting a rip snortin’ good case of chloracne. Lather, rinse and repeat from  0001 Hrs to 0849 Hrs Local (Saigon time) for 365 wakeups.

Lottsa times in the morning, the dead Gook sappers were still hung up in the concertina coils. Even their comrades couldn’t get them out, picked up their guns and beat feet. So,  Johnny and his  chauffeur were often drafted to stop and help extricate the bodies, throw them in the back and take them to a collection point for Intel to rummage through the clothes. Lather, rinse and repeat for 365 wakeups- less three days at Vung Tau getting drunk, laid and an absolutely nasty case of VD that required a million units of ice-cold Penicillin in each buttock to tame.

And then back to the world… and… no job and old friends say you’re weird as shit now. And then the dreams begin. And the smells. And the voices. Pretty soon we’re talkin’ a full-blown psychosis. Stir in a few visits to the Funny farm and the suits that tie in the back and by 1984, Johnney files for Bent Brain Syndrome. VA says you’re just having a bad hair day and blows you off. Lather, rinse and repeat the VA blow offs for ten years.

In those ensuing years (1984-1994), Johnny Vet lands another cush-ass job as a Prison Guard. About a year in, the prisoners go bugfucky and take over. They lock the Johnster up and threaten to kill him about ten times a day. He gets beat to a pulp. He decides maybe that wasn’t his cup of tea after all. From then on until ’94, Johnny had a mobile zip code due to his “unhoused” and unemployed status.

In 1994, Johnny Vet wins 100% schedular for his Bent brain and VA comps him free room and board at the VAMC down in Loma Linda on the psych ward. He’s on a high five, first-name basis with most of the staff after his third or fourth “visit”. Lottsa Droperidol and Trazadone  make Johnny a right-on agreeable guy. Of course, each time when he gets out, he quits eating all that shit because it makes him foggy. Lather, rinse and repeat for another 22 years.

Johnny’s using a well-known VSO outfit with the initials PVA. From 1994 to 2016, nobody even thought to file him for Aid and Attendance. They piddled away his life on chloracne ratings (max 30%), 10% for tinnitus (due to an itchy trigger finger on the Pig), hemorrhoids – I guess from trying to sit in that Jeep seat. And of course, brief stints on SMC S for the hospital visits over 21 days. Add in about ten other Zeros for Heroes ratings over the years and here we are- no aid and attendance. To me, this was the crime. In ’16 he got some temporary help from an attorney who did a bang up job getting him a retro 100% back to 1984 because they forgot to do the VA 8 and certify his NOD to the Board. That retro evaporated faster than you can say Jack Daniels, dextromethamphetamine and a shit ton of killer ganja.

At some point, Johnny discovered he was sterile after his all-expense paid vacation in Vietnam. By now he’s single after a two-year disaster and homeless again. Along about 2023, he gets Jesus in his heart and meets his “goddaughter” in church although I doubt there’s any backstory of a baptismal font and Holy Water. Could be but who’s worried about semantics? He’s still a little bit unpredictable so the designated goddaughter- let’s call her Sarah- says he can bunk out back in the Motor home. Sarah found me through word of mouth and called. I couldn’t not take this one. A quick dumpster dive into his VBMS folder confirmed my worst fears on the virgin a&a status.

Just as I began, Johnny came down with a bodacious case of Ischemic Heart Disease (IHD). It’s on the list of Agent Orange shit but Johnny had been dining exclusively for years on fast food. He had waaaay more than ten thousand missions over Micky D’s but VA overlooks that kind of behaviour. Unless they could actually prove he’d done it to himself with fast food, he was golden.

I filed him for a&a for the bent brain and an increase plus a&a for the IHD. VA artfully denied the a&a for the IHD first because-well, silly boy- he ain’t SC for the IHD yet. Duh. Then they denied the IHD, too. He had the audacity to have his heart attack and forego using VA’s vaunted medical facilities. Translated, that means the medics that responded in the Meat Wagon motored him to the nearest hospital to save his life instead of getting on a toll road and driving 46 miles in rush hour traffic to the VAMC. And yes, a&a was not needed for the PTSD-just more (and stronger) tranquilizers.

I got Sarah to scare up the ER hospital medical records, filed them and they gave Johnny a 60% and continued his SMC S. VA didn’t even bother to discuss a&a for the McDonald’s Disease because they still insist you need a 100 or TDIU to qualify. Just so you folks know, discussing SMC at a HLR Informal conference is like discussing the finer points of Trigonometry with your dog. They nod their heads sagely and 28 minutes later, you see the denial pop up in VBMS.

So, it was off to the BVA. Thank the Lord that Johnny is over 75 so we got this in front of a VLJ  fairly quickly. But then it sat…and sat…and sat for six long months.  Johnny had also filed for IHD back in 2010 when he’d had one of  those moments of paralyzing fear from the bent brain and its residuals and blew about a 210/155 on the BP meter. A VA doctor said he might have it, ordered a MUGA scan and the VAMC disremembered to  do it. Mighty convenient. No diagnosis equaled no dice. Denied.  Merci Beaucoup for your service, Johnny. Next?

Six months is a lifetime if you’re advanced on the docket but one thing I can say is a denial doesn’t take nearly that much time so I had a good feeling about this one.  So, it was with great pleasure that last Thursday I spotted the magic paper in Caseflow. The VLJ did an admirable job of following the paper trail back to the 1994-1996 staycations at the Loma Linda Home for Wayward Vets. It paints a pretty powerful picture of deceit on VA’s part for saying all these years that Johnny’s mental state would clear up and resolve itself if he’d just stop self-medicating and eat more of their medications.

Granted, I could not convince the Judge to grant the IHD back to 2010 but winning the A&A back to 1994 subsumed it anyway so it’s a push. And besides, Johnny was already at SMC S in 2000 so the added 60%  for his heart back to 2010 still wouldn’t have moved the needle. Needless to say, Johnny Vet now has a pretty serious chunk of retro to make a down payment on a house. And he allowed that if the shoe was indeed on the other foot, he’d have my 6. Check it out.

Redact BVA R1 retro to 10.1994 2.13.25

Truth be told, I’ve filed a number of appeals for two a&a entitlements much like a VSO who throws 26 claims like spaghetti at the wall all at once in hopes of getting 10% for even one of them. Asking for two a&a claims can happen when you’re already at SMC L loss of use or an earlier a&a win and trying to get to R 1. Granted, you only need one more L but it always helps to have two hand grenades instead of one.  But this one was a first for me in that the VLJ granted two a&a ratings in one appeal-let alone one going back thirty one years. Whooooo doggies. This one calls for three fingers of Johnny Blue with my buds in Minneapolis- St. Paul in April.

Interestingly, five “VA experts” on Reddit said this is impossible and can’t be done. My riposte? At asknod, we don’t practice law. We perform it. Lather, rinse, repeat. And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.

P.S. Here’s a peek at a new Appeal coming up. Imagine you asked for a simple bump from L (loss of use) to M under §3.350(f)(4) for a new 100% rating for your IHD back to 2018. VA comes back, says you never had loss of use of the lowers but relax, it’s not a CUE and changes your SMC L to a&a. Here at asknod, we make lemonade with the lemons we’re handed. Sometimes we supersize it with vodka to take it up a notch.

redact R1 10182 filed 2.15.2025