The CAVC has bean bery bery goot to me. Now there are 39 of us at the Court.
As most of you know, nothing gives me greater pleasure than to beard the VA lion in his own den. This animosity arose in 1994 when I filed for an Agent Orange disease and VA informed me I’d never vacationed in the Republic of South Vietnam even one moment-let alone two years. They didn’t call me a liar outright. It was far more nuanced than that. Ever since, I have taken extraordinary pleasure in making sure they understand what it meant to be maligned in such a fashion. Each of you who brings his or her sad tale of VA disenfranchisement to me allows me to right your wrong and remind them of their error in mine. I figure conservatively that it has already cost them well over 10 million dollars and as much as $400,000 every month. If they had granted my claim then, I wouldn’t be writing this.
Today, I bring you a really poignant tale in the same vein about a fellow Vietnam Veteran (Air Force, of course) whom I was privileged to help. His travails, and more specifically, his wife’s, have recently culminated in a long overdue r(1) award. This will eventually have to be revisited for the final r(2) in the future but that will be another story.
As Vietnam Veterans, we all get the Agent Orange presumption for certain diseases such as Coronary Artery Disease (CAD), Parkinson’s and a host of other nasty cancers and bugs. I was told yesterday there’s a particularly nasty little vermin called a Liver Fluke that we now have to consider as well. As Mr. and Mrs Johnny Vet wish to retain their anonymity, I will address them is John and Jane.
Johnboy enlisted in 1967 just in time to attend the Southeast Asia Olympics. He bounced all over the south Pacific from Taiwan to Tan Son Nhut and was duly granted what we call “Nehmer” status-or one who served on land in South Vietnam. This gave him protection if he ever had the misfortune to contract CAD. He did. He had a nasty heart attack in late 2011 which left him with severe anoxic brain injuries-but more about this later.
After service, John signed up for the Montgomery GI college Bill and obtained an education in respiratory therapy and started his own business. He was wildly successful and grew the company from five to over 200 employees-some of whom were nieces and nephews. He was always engaged in some pastime in the garage from reupholstering things for the house to woodworking. In that time he and Jane also raised three daughters. It was an idyllic time for them and they eventually retired to Arizona for the weather and golf.
After Johnny’s heart attacks and subsequent brain injury, the real battle began. VA was paying John for 100% related to the heart injury as well as the ensuing dementia at the A&A rate plus a bump for the extra disabilities- or what we call Special Monthly Compensation at the (m) rate. This didn’t even begin to cover the costs to Jane from the brand new need for additional rehabilitation. She eventually had to pick up the flag herself and continue after she realized the sham help offered by her VSO-Vietnam Vets of America. They were deeply engrossed in Boldly Going Nowhere on Johnny’s behalf once they obtained his initial ratings.
In 2014, Jane was apprised of an analogy between John’s brain anoxia and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Although TBI is an imperfect fit as a VA analogy to anoxia, she knew in her heart that John was entitled to a far higher rating for his enormous subset of disabilities. She proceeded to file for Special Monthly Compensation (SMC) at the (t) rate. VA allowed her to blindly pursue this fully well knowing SMC (t) was only permitted to Veterans who served after 9/11/2001. As expected, she was denied any higher compensation even though John was quite obviously entitled to a far higher rating than SMC (m).
Our paths crossed after she spotted some of my blurbs on a sister site at hadit.com. Around a year or so later, I attained my accreditation and agreed to help her sort this out. VA continued to obfuscate and dissemble pretending they didn’t understand the thrust of our argument. It finally took a filing for Parkinson’s to create that perfect confluence of diseases in order to qualify but it should never have come to that. VA was determined- to put it mildly- not to grant r(1) by continuing to use the salacious SMC (t) argument. It took eleven pages of a rather heated (for me) DickandJanespeak powerpoint presentation to get the point across. After rereading it now, I had no idea I was a) so loquacious; b) redundant and c) obnoxious. Apparently I/we got our point across because in short order, they agreed with us and granted all we asked for and perhaps even then some.
The final r(1) argument: R1 redacted
The VA mea culpa CUE decision: r1 redacted
I find it incongruous that Mrs. Vet was installed on the hamster wheel of VA justice as well as forced to navigate this labyrinth of stupidity when VA fully well knew the entitlements were due and owing. Even though I couched this in terms of requesting a rexamination of the r(1) denial, VA donned sack cloth, anointed their figurative foreheads with ashes and fell on their CUE sword by blaming it all on some Phoenix Regional Office FNG GS-8 who should have known better. I don’t buy that but then I don’t have to. We won. Sadly, it took six long, wholly unnecessary years to obtain a successful ending. It reminds me of mating elephants ( takes place at a very high level; only accomplished with a bevy of screaming and bellowing and the inordinate amount of time required for gestation).
Boy howdy. Is that a wonderful Thanksgiving story or what? Thank you John and Jane for allowing me to be the one to bring this to fruition and share it with other similarly situated Veterans. Cupcake and I took a u-turn coming out of Texas specifically to make time to meet these wonderful folks on our way back from Spring NOVA. It really puts the frosting on a win if you get to put a face to a name for some of these deserving folks. I almost wish we had a real court system with VA so we could present these situations in real time. That Perry Mason moment is a hoot. You’d get to turn to your figurative Hamilton Burger-VA opposite, roll your eyeballs, shrug your shoulders in a nonadversarial, paternalistic manner and say in your best Gomer Pyle voice “Well, Goooooooolly!”
Happy Thanksgiving to you all and I hope you are all as blessed as we are with opportunities to help our fellow Veterans-or anyone less fortunate for that matter.
And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
Every once in a while I get an email telling me my blogs are too droll and pedantic. I get that. I do try to inject that quintessential element of levity in between these legalistic tomes but keep in mind this site was set up to be a classroom of “how to” in DIY claims. Just because I’m street legal as an advocate is no reason to cease offering “hypothetical” solutions without being legally liable for foolish advice. Having a blog format prevents any Tom, Dick or Harry using my site to offer advice that is harmful. That is the only unique thing that sets me apart from other Veterans Blogs.
Now, with all that said, let’s dive in to Pop Smoke’s most excellent cartoons I’ve been hoarding.
Thank you Dennis. Dilly!Dilly!
And from the Francis White collection, a mind in the gutter…
Dilly Dilly.
A lot of water has passed under the bridge for Veterans since the 2016 Vets Day parades. Many hopes have been dashed for some resolution on AO presumptives (and presumptees). A week later our spirits rejoice at the thought of a ‘reconsideration’ glimmer of hope from VASEC “Mermaid” Shulkin. Any increase in AO bennies isn’t going to bust the Gumbmint piggybank. We’re dying far too fast to make an appreciable dent in it. At 849,000± souls, we’re getting as rare as hen’s teeth. Don’t believe all those ‘Vietnam Vet’ hats, folks.
I always like to recall Gene Hackman’s line to Superman “Promises were made and gifts were exchanged”. In our context, we held up our right hand and made a few promises before the obligatory “I do.” When disability due to service causes us to once again raise our right hand in supplication, the ‘promises were made” clause becomes mighty small print requiring magnification. I’d like to think I have helped illuminate and magnify a few statutes for my readership over the years. I look forward to continuing that hallowed calling for as long as Howard will permit me.
Granted, the Houses of Congress are frothing at the mouth to appease Veterans with inane new legislation but they’re going into it assbackwards. What’s next? A law guaranteeing a Vet a lifetime supply of 3-inch wide yellow ribbon and unlimited oak saplings? Compensation reform from the Veterans Benefits Administration is uppermost in all Veterans’ minds I talk to. Note I didn’t mention VSOs, either. They seem copacetic with the current fustercluck. Hell, that’s why NOVA was invented. We have a broken system running at 78 RPM cranking out denials helter skelter and shoveling them into the BVA warehouse. There they molder for untold years. In that interval, Vets lose their houses. Marriages and families disintegrate and suicides reach epic proportions. The new BVA “Fully Developed Appeals” program merely accelerates this production-line slaughter faster.
This year Cupcake and I were blessed to be able to drive to San Antonio for Spring NOVA and meet some of my Veterans heroes enroute. Butch Long, Bob Lockett, Malcolm “in the Middle” Melancon, Ed Dvorak and Donald F. All these gentlemen have touched my life and now I have the pleasure of representing some of them. They have entrusted to me the job of recouping those Govt. promises made to them. Keep your eyes peeled for a mention of Donald soon. His spouse has finally prevailed on r(1) after a long, grueling six-year battle. I gave her a few pointers but the brunt of the work was done by her. I keep telling you guys you’re outclassed by some of the most tenacious women I’ve ever encountered in this business. Mrs. F. is not someone I’d like to butt heads with. Look up the past tense of ‘determine’ in the Oxford English dictionary and undoubtedly there’s a picture of her sitting on a combat-armored bulldozer with a gunsight for a hood ornament.
Mostly, I’d prefer to thank a non-Veteran (Cupcake) for where (and why) I am even here today. I’m not just any Joe Average Veteran. Shooo-doggies no way. I won the Powerball Wife Lotto. She, as I mention, is not a Vet but is the closest thing there is to, or can be, for me. I wouldn’t be an accredited VA Agent now if not for her urging. I probably wouldn’t have any children. Actually, the thirty year list of ‘probably wouldn’ts’ is too long to discuss here. Suffice it to say, she has the moral stamina to have been an 11 Bravo.
With all that said, I decided to give myself a present today. I’m putting in an application to be accepted to practice at the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims (CAVC). I don’t think I’ve been that unduly naughty in my CAVC synopses here or stepped on any current Judicial Toes over the last eight years to warrant being turned down. Ahruuu, you say? I guess I’ll just have to keep my fingers crossed they don’t find out I lied about that 2 carat cubic zirconium on Cupcake’s wedding ring.
As always, thank you -everyone of you- who were so selfless as to relinquish a portion of your life ensuring ‘that our flag was still there’. Now, doesn’t that sound a shit ton better than “Thank you for your service”? I rest my case.
And that’s all I’m gonna say about that.
Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you, Silvia and all who helped to bring this to the fore. We have patiently waited for any evidence other than the CDC pointing out that jetguns were inherently unsanitary and were never going to be rehabilitated into respectability-ever. Notwithstanding the fact that rank amateur E-1 medical trainees were issued these weapons with no training on sterile procedures, it’s scary to think anyone with an ounce of real medical training could look at one of these things and feel it was intrinsically safe to use on anything more than barnyard fowl.
Here’s a downloadable .pdf AllServiceJetgunWithdrawal1997
And here is the .jpg version
Let VA say what they will about there being no concrete evidence jetguns transmitted Hepatitis C. It would be folly now to conduct those tests. Often, medical folks vote with their pocketbooks or conscience. If these jetguns were so sanitary, ask yourself this. Why are they no longer in use? What particular feature made the CDC and the Department of Defense forego their usage and pay billions more using disposable syringes?
This is how to present a claim. You’re never going to win at the RO even if you had a smoking jetgun with blood on it. But you can win using the DoD jetgun withdrawal letter which is damning enough. If the DoD and the CDC suddenly weren’t all gung ho about it, it was probably not very sanitary. Nobody admits guilt. No harm. No foul. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.
https://www.va.gov/vetapp17/files5/1729780.txt
In retrospect, the age of the disease as measured in a METAVIR Scale of F4 should have been a dead giveaway to the RO VA examiner. Untreated Hep C will keep munching on your liver box for about 43 years or so (like here) until it’s toast. Johnny Vet got jetgunned in 1965, got a new liver filter in 2008 and yet it crapped out again in 2014. The Hep C reinfected the new one. Duh. Didn’t see that one coming?
Here’s where your use of the METAVIR Scale to prove fibrosis will win the claim.
https://www.va.gov/vetapp17/files5/1729548.txt
And here is the document you need to submit at the BVA appeal hearing or into evidence after denial.

Hot dog. Nothing I like better than talking about VA’s myriad problems. The only thing neater is talking about real justice, or as close as we’ll ever get to it at the Court of Appeals for Veterans Claims. They used to go by The Court of Veterans Appeals (or COVA) and everyone seemed happy with it. Sorta like SCOTUS-easy to pronounce and it rolled off the old tongue after a fashion. As with all good things, someone just had to come along and fustercluck it into an unpronounceable acronym-CAVC. Ca-vee-chee? Cav-cee? Cavic? Aruuuuuuuu?
Since everyone is into “retro” now, I say we return it to its former glory-and pronunciation- if for no other reason than to facilitate ease of texting. Imagine how much more sense it would make to text your NOVA buds and thumb in :
“cova just gave doug (rose emoji)nski the whole nchilada in 17-1117. #novahighcotton(thumbs up emoji)”
But that’s not why I called you all here. Jerrel called while I was busy helping my buddy Butch in his never ending travails with the VA. I didn’t get to talk directly but agreed to do a show with him and John this Thursday evening. Please tune in on Hadit.com’s podcast live that evening with a cold one at 1900 hrs on the (L)east Coast or 1600 on the Left. They’re all recorded so you can actually listen to it later if you so choose. But, if you’d like to call in, I’d be happy to backfill a blank spot.
The subject will be -what else -Extraordinary Writs of Mandamus. How to. When to. If you should. What they do and don’t do. And why your odds of getting hit by lightning while cashing in your record- winning Powerball Lotto Ticket are far higher than getting the Caa-vee-chee to grant one. But don’t lose heart. Winning an Ex Writ isn’t the name of the game. It’s all about filing one.
I’ll show you a few things I’d do and certainly things I would never do. I’ll explain why you have to have the patience of Job in order to wait two years and some change for a SOC they’ve forgotten to write. Why you’ll need a lot of postage stamps. By rights, you’ll need calluses on your finger pads from all your typed entreaties to please finish the claim.
A trip to the Cavic seems daunting on it’s face. I know. I was shakin’ like a leaf on a tree when I filed my first one back in 2010. I got my ass kicked. It was the biggest waste of a U.S. Grant coupon I ever pulled out of my wallet. Note to self: Don’t ever begin an Ex Writ when you’re having multiple surgeries in a VAMC whilst being hosed with Dilaudid. Especially VA’s Binford™ 5000 automatic IV dispenser with the 15-minute ‘Supersize me!’ button. Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaad idea.
Since I’ll be speaking from the pro se, representing yourself pulpit, I’ll give you the crude version. There are also numerous examples on my website here in Extraordinary Writs in the “Blogs by Subject” Header down the right side. Your ability to file a fairly good product at the Cav-cee is only limited by your manual typing dexterity and familiarity with Microsoft Word©. No expletives deleted. No sexist remarks. Double entendres are permitted but not encouraged. Tune in for more Thursday post meridian.