IS THIS THE VETERANS’ CARE WE WANT?
On Sunday, MPs, think about how we can do better, Richard Keenan says.
Many parliamentarians are preparing this week for what, to me, is a very special day: Nov. 11. I surmise that they will ensure their best sombre suit or dress has been dry-cleaned; their shiny government limousine booked; and a discreet bottle of skin sanitizer available in case they have to shake some hands. I envision that their final preparations will include standing in front of an ornate mirror in their plush government offices, pinning on a poppy and practising their most sincere “thank you for your sacrifice,” the default statement of caring that they will use many times on Remembrance Day. The government will spend an enormous amount putting on spectacles across the country (ask anyone the cost to have just one CF-18 do a flypast). They will take great pride in putting veterans on display, marching them around like little toys while professing a very deep gratitude, on behalf of all Canadians, to the men and woman who have sacrificed so much for their country. I am sure that after a few hours of standing in what probably will be a normal, nippy November day, parliamentarians will look forward to a hot shower and a delicious Sunday dinner, glad that it will be 365 days before they have to do this again. For me, the week is dramatically different. You see, I am a disabled veteran, and I struggle every single day with chronic pain and PTSD as a result of a deployed operation outside Canada. Still, I will endeavour to go to the mall for a haircut. It has taken me a great deal of time to deal with my issues, but now that I have become friends with my chronic pain, I am confident that I will be able to convince myself to put one foot at a time on the floor and get out of bed, fully aware that my mall excursion will be filled with relentless pain. At the mall, I will also struggle to overcome my anxiety of large crowds, hoping that I won’t find myself involuntarily crying, unable to stop and embarrassed that perhaps I have made a spectacle of myself in public. On Nov. 11, I will proudly place a red poppy on my chest and go stand with my brothers and sisters, who have also served, to pay my respect to the heroes who gave their lives in the service of this great nation. I am a proud Canadian and do not regret having served, or even being injured, but I am in despair as I deal with an organization that is clearly not there for me in my time of need. I was initially hopeful that upon my return to Canada, Veterans Affairs Canada would welcome me with open arms and support me as I transitioned to the new realities of being disabled and unable to continue my career in the Canadian Forces. To my dismay, it was abundantly apparent that Veterans Affairs does not have the structure, policies or procedures to offer injured veterans dignified, timely and meaningful support. It took me years of humiliating, disheartening and exhausting interaction with the department to finally be granted a small, one-time disability award that is supposed to compensate me for my disabilities and last the rest of my life. Perhaps the best illustration of my experience in seeking support from Veterans Affairs is to liken it to the Charles Dickens character, Oliver Twist, asking for a little bit of gruel from his evil masters. At the beginning of the year, desperate for support, I asked Veterans Affairs to reassess my disabilities. Again, I am faced with feelings of helplessness, despair and frustration. As I prepare for Remembrance Day, 35 weeks have passed in a process that Veterans Affairs says it strives to address (disability claims) within 16 weeks. So Sunday will be a difficult day for me. It will be painful to get out of bed, yes, but it will also be rather sad to hear our elected officials profess their commitment to veterans and their families. I ask this of all the parliamentarians who will be present during a Remembrance Day ceremony Sunday: Take a moment to reflect upon those who have given so much, and also take a moment to truly reflect upon what disabled veterans and their families must endure every day for the rest of their lives. Perhaps, on Monday, while you are at work, you can then ask yourself if your vision of care for the veterans you represent in your riding is the same as what is currently being provided by Veterans Affairs.
Richard Keenan is a disabled veteran. He lives in Kingston.