> ## Content Index > Fetch the complete content index at: https://covertsblog.ghost.io/llms.txt > Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further. # A Pattern of Decline: My Recent Experience with VA Care - URL: https://covertsblog.ghost.io/a-pattern-of-decline-my-recent-experience-with-va-care/ - Published: 2026-09-27T08:33:39.000Z - Updated: 2026-09-27T08:33:39.000Z - Author: Doyle Watson --- For decades, my family has had a complicated relationship with the Veterans Health Administration. My childhood and military service were shaped by concerns about the VA's operational effectiveness—concerns grounded in direct experience. Like many veterans, I've heard the stories: scheduling failures, disrespect, chaos. But in recent years, I saw something different. The VA appeared to be changing. The Patient Advocacy program, in particular, seemed genuinely committed to supporting veterans. For a while, I dared to hope the organization was moving in the right direction. Since 2024, that hope has eroded. What I'm witnessing now feels like a reversion to the patterns that made the VA infamous in the first place. ### When Patient Advocacy Becomes "Hit and Miss" The first sign came when I reached out for advocacy assistance. Messages to Patient Advocacy were met with phone numbers and instructions to handle issues myself. When I called, I encountered disrespectful and dismissive responses—the kind that made me question whether seeking help was even worth my effort. Things only changed after I escalated my concerns to my Congressional Representative and demanded contact information for regional and national advocacy offices. Then, suddenly, the staff became responsive and professional. The message was clear: you have to fight to get help, and even then, you're not guaranteed respect. Clinical Findings That Disappear Into the Void But attitude problems are only half the story. The real concern is clinical. In early 2024, X-rays of my lower back revealed a large cyst on my right kidney. Standard medical practice would suggest that a finding like this warrants communication with the patient and a care plan. It didn't happen. I discovered it only by reviewing my own X-ray images. Nearly a year passed before I started asking questions about this cyst—questions that prompted any actual discussion. That same period revealed other findings that were similarly left unaddressed: ``` A thyroid nodule that appeared in my medical records. My neurologist reacted quickly to this finding and facilitated a referral to oncology, which was the kind of proactive care that should be standard. We eventually discussed it with the oncologist; the size was borderline for biopsy, and given that I'm on blood thinners, we agreed on monitoring rather than an invasive procedure. This was the right call—but it required my neurologist's initiative, not my primary care team's.An osteoarthritis diagnosis in my hips that showed up in my medical records with no discussion, no management plan, nothing from my VA doctors. ``` These aren't minor oversights or communication gaps. They're failures in basic clinical responsibility. And they've forced me into a position I shouldn't be in: actively managing my own medical care by reviewing my own records and demanding explanations for findings my doctors never mentioned. ### When a Simple Request Becomes a Dismissal I have a knee X-ray follow-up appointment that should have been scheduled by now, but it hasn't been. When that appointment does happen, I planned to ask my primary care physician to take a quick look at two unusual brownish lesions on my back—areas I couldn't see myself and wanted evaluated to determine if a dermatologist's attention was needed. Two days after my initial knee X-ray appointment, I discovered these lesions. I thought the logical approach would be to have my primary care physician assess them during the follow-up knee appointment—a simple evaluation to determine whether they warranted a dermatologist's attention or if they were harmless. When I mentioned them to my primary care physician, their response was: "You didn't mention those two days ago." Let me be clear about why I'm including this detail. My dermatologist removed a melanoma from my right arm. Because of that history, I'm on a six-month monitoring schedule for other skin concerns. My next dermatology appointment isn't scheduled until February 2027\. I thought a brief evaluation from my primary care physician would be efficient and appropriate—a simple "yes, show your dermatologist" or "no, these are harmless" assessment during an already-scheduled visit. If they were just skin tags, there was no need to burden my already-busy dermatologist. If they warranted attention, I'd get directed to the right specialist with urgency. Instead, I received a response that felt dismissive rather than helpful. The underlying message was clear: you should have mentioned them immediately, and now you need to wait months for your dermatology appointment to get an answer. What troubles me is the lost opportunity for basic clinical guidance. A simple conversation could have provided clarity. Instead, I'm left uncertain—and waiting. ### A Broader Pattern These incidents didn't happen in isolation. They form a pattern—one that suggests the VA isn't just having bad days or individual staffing problems. It's a systemic shift. The disrespect when I asked for advocacy. The clinical findings left unaddressed. The dismissive response when I asked for basic clinical guidance. The expectation that I'll manage my own care because the organization won't. These aren't anomalies; they're signs of a deeper problem. And honestly, it feels like a reversion. After years of cautious optimism about the VA's improvements, I'm watching the organization slip back into the "bad old days"—the patterns that made it infamous: delayed care, poor communication, clinical findings ignored, and a dismissive attitude toward veterans seeking help. ### What Worries Me Most What keeps me up at night isn't just my own frustration. It's thinking about other veterans dealing with this same experience—veterans who might not have the resources, time, or energy to fight for their own care the way I've had to. Missed diagnoses. Delayed treatment. Preventable suffering. These aren't abstract concerns; they're the inevitable outcomes when a healthcare system stops communicating, stops following up, and stops treating the people it serves with basic respect. A veteran should never have to mine their own medical records to discover critical health information. And yet, here I am. I'm writing this to process my own experience and to acknowledge what I'm seeing. If you're a veteran reading this and recognizing your own experience in these words, you're not alone. And if you work within the VA and recognize the pattern I'm describing, I'd urge you to speak up. The organization can do better. It has done better. But right now, it's sliding backward—and veterans are paying the price.