His Future Rests on Government Formula

If I spent all night thinking about the ways the government gets defrauded, Robert Brokopp would never cross my mind.

Oh, there are the people who aren’t really down-and-out soaking the government for welfare, such as the Santa Ana couple a few years ago that bilked the county for $50,000.

Then there are the phony Medicare claims from doctors and hospitals and other agencies--to the tune of $12.6 billion in 1999, as was reported earlier this year.

Or, I might consider the inventive ways military contractors have had of lining their pockets at government expense.

But Brokopp, a 57-year-old Yorba Linda man who’s been in a wheelchair for 27 years and is unable to do so much as scratch his own nose, would not even register.

Which makes Brokopp’s current standoff with the Department of Veterans Affairs all the harder to swallow.

To say Brokopp is powerless is to stretch for a bad play on words. A quadriplegic with no range of motion below his shoulders, he requires 24-hour-a-day care. If he needs water, someone must fetch it. If he needs to roll over in bed, someone turns him. And as for life’s other necessities--the things that keep Brokopp alive and with his dignity intact--he is dependent on another.

Brokopp has two attendants, both in their early 30s. They are boyfriend and girlfriend and live with him. The man has been with Brokopp since 1993.

That may be about to change, and all because the government has decided that Brokopp is, I guess, improving. And because he doesn’t need as much government-paid care, the V.A. is reducing by 20% the number of hours it will pay for one of the attendants.

With that reduction in hours, of course, comes a reduction in the attendant’s daily pay. With the reduction in pay most likely will come the attendant’s decision that he isn’t making enough money to continue working with Brokopp. As it is, the attendant makes $7.55 an hour, a couple bucks above minimum wage and hardly the kind of pay, considering the job, that lures job-seekers.

“Where am I going to find someone for that kind of money?” Brokopp asks, “especially in Orange County, where unemployment is so low? The person I have now is better than anyone I’ve ever had. And he will indeed leave if his pay is cut $15 a day. It may not sound like much but if you multiply it by 30, it’s $450 a month.”

A Case of Unintended Consequences

Brokopp’s second attendant is paid from a pension he gets that is just under $1,200 a month.

A V.A. spokesman sympathizes but says there’s not much that can be done about the situation. Like all people receiving V.A. benefits, Brokopp’s condition is assessed by his attending physician, and the fees paid to his attendant are determined by a government formula.

“It’s not an issue of money,” says V.A. spokesman Gil Hernandez, “but an issue of what he needs medically and what he doesn’t need and the regulations given to us by the government.”

That’s what makes this so maddening.

It’s a cruel irony that Brokopp isn’t arguing that the two-hour reduction (from 10 hours, 15 minutes to 8 hours, 15 minutes) is a hardship. What he fears is that the reduced pay will cost him his trusted helper.

Since I first talked to Brokopp more than a week ago, he’s gotten a bit of good news. His longtime attendant has said that instead of leaving imminently, which he had planned after hearing about the pay reduction, he’ll stay another three months.

Beyond that, no promises.

“They’d leave with my grace and blessings,” Brokopp, a former car salesman, says. “I can’t be angry with them leaving under those circumstances. They’ve already given me much more of their time and themselves for way less than they should be receiving.”

The thought of finding replacements leaves him with dread. “I’ll run an ad. I’ll possibly find somebody,” Brokopp says of that prospect. “I was so fortunate to have Andy [his longtime attendant]. I’m very vulnerable to theft. I can’t oversee anyone in the house. I’ve had attendants who have stolen from me. Andy is extremely honest, reliable, dependable and extremely good. I got an ace, and I’d never had an ace before.”

Brokopp’s anger, frustration, resignation--whatever name you want to give it--is palpable. He’s up against a bureaucracy that certainly hasn’t intended to worsen his lot in life but seems unwilling to bail him out.

At my most charitable, I’d call this a case of unintended consequences. While trying to save taxpayer dollars for the rest of us, the government gives Robert Brokopp a shot to the ribs.

Will someone answer this: With the government touting a $1.5-trillion-dollar surplus over the next 10 years, why do people like Brokopp have to argue their case?

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers can reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821 or by e-mail to [email protected].