{"id":1164,"date":"2026-10-08T08:15:32","date_gmt":"2026-10-08T08:15:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mamastories.site\/?p=1164"},"modified":"2026-10-08T08:15:32","modified_gmt":"2026-10-08T08:15:32","slug":"billing-notice-missing-wheelchair","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mamastories.site\/?p=1164","title":{"rendered":"My Care Home Charged Medicaid for a Wheelchair I Never Received"},"content":{"rendered":"

I got the billing notice wrong. I thought the $2,100 charge meant my custom wheelchair had finally come, even though I was still sitting in the loaner with the cracked footplate.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m Harlan. I\u2019m 74, and I live at a care home in central Wisconsin, outside a town where you can tell what month it is by which tractors are on the road. I used to drive a school bus, then worked maintenance at the county fairgrounds. I\u2019m not great at forms. I am good at noticing when a wheel keeps pulling left.<\/p>\n

The notice came folded in half with the rest of my paperwork. It said Medicaid had paid for a custom wheelchair. I read that part twice. I assumed the chair was coming. The staff had said it was on order for months, so I put the notice in my bedside drawer.<\/p>\n

Three weeks later, my daughter Cheryl visited and asked why I was still in the loaner.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s on order,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told me that last month.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, then it\u2019s still on order.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cheryl looked down at the footplate. The left side had a rough edge that caught my sock if I wasn\u2019t careful. She took a photo. I didn\u2019t like that. It made me feel like a problem she was collecting evidence about.<\/p>\n

I told her not to make a fuss. That was my first bad call.<\/span><\/p>\n

The chair had been measured for me the year before. My hips had gotten weaker, and the old chair pinched behind my knees. The therapist said a custom seat and a better wheel setup would help me sit without sliding sideways. I understood that much. I didn\u2019t understand the paperwork, but I knew the new chair was supposed to be mine.<\/p>\n

At first, the loaner was fine for short trips. Then the footplate cracked, and the right wheel began making a dry click every few turns. I told the aide, Noreen.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you get maintenance to look at it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll put in a request.\u201d<\/p>\n

I asked again the next morning. Noreen wrote something on her clipboard. She was kind to me, and I didn\u2019t want her getting blamed for a chair she hadn\u2019t picked.<\/p>\n

The wheelchair pulled left. I learned to push harder with my right arm. By the time I got from my room to the dining room, my shoulder would ache. I stopped going to the little evening music group because the route there took a long hallway and a turn that was hard to manage.<\/span><\/p>\n

That part I didn\u2019t tell Cheryl. I said I was tired.<\/p>\n

The first page of the document that changed this was the billing notice. Cheryl asked to see it after she looked at my chair photo.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you still have the notice?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI think so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou think so?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s in the drawer.\u201d<\/p>\n

She pulled out the drawer and sorted through the usual stuff: gum wrappers, two birthday cards, a missing sock, and the folded paper. I remember the gum wrapper because I told her she could throw it away and she said, \u201cI know how garbage works, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

She read the notice without saying anything. Then she turned it toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMedicaid paid $2,100 for a custom wheelchair,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what it says.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you get it?\u201d<\/p>\n

I rubbed my thumb along the edge of the paper. \u201cThey told me it was on order.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cheryl called the front office. I could hear the receptionist through the phone speaker, though I couldn\u2019t make out every word.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe chair is on order,\u201d Cheryl said. \u201cThat\u2019s what we\u2019ve been told.\u201d<\/p>\n

She listened.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you tell me when it was ordered?\u201d<\/p>\n

Another pause.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I get the delivery ticket?\u201d<\/p>\n

The receptionist said she\u2019d ask the administrator.<\/p>\n

Cheryl hung up and slid the notice back into its fold. She wasn\u2019t yelling. That bothered me more than yelling would have.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m waiting for the paperwork.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe it\u2019s just slow.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wanted her to agree with me. I wanted the matter to be small because I was tired of people talking about my body like it was a set of tasks.<\/p>\n

That evening, I tried to get into the dining room by myself. The left wheel pulled, and the broken footplate bumped the table leg when I made the turn. One of the other residents reached over and moved the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cNeed a hand, Harlan?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019ve got it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t have it. But I pushed on.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next morning, the administrator, Dale, stopped by my room. He wore a badge on a blue lanyard and carried a folder.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour daughter asked about the chair,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re checking with the vendor. These things take time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much time?\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced at the folder. \u201cI can\u2019t give you a date today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve already waited months.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at the broken footplate. Dale followed my eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can get maintenance to look at that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve asked.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll make sure it gets done.\u201d<\/p>\n

He spoke softly and didn\u2019t sound cruel. That made it easier to believe him. It also made it easier for me to let the conversation end without a date, a name, or anything I could check.<\/p>\n

I told Cheryl what Dale had said.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s checking with the vendor,\u201d I told her.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he give you a date?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid he show you anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

She set her bag down on my bed. She had brought me a turkey sandwich from the grocery store, the kind with too much mayonnaise that I liked. I remember the bread stuck to the roof of my mouth while she kept looking at the billing notice.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, I need you to let me ask for the ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t say you couldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou keep telling me it\u2019s probably fine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want to get somebody in trouble over a delay.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if it isn\u2019t a delay?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t answer. I didn\u2019t want to imagine the answer, but I also didn\u2019t want Cheryl to think I was scared.<\/p>\n

\u201cAsk for it,\u201d I said. \u201cJust don\u2019t go in there like I\u2019m accusing people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was the first time I let her take the lead.<\/span><\/p>\n

Four days later, Dale brought the delivery ticket. I was sitting near the window when he came in. Cheryl was there too. She had the billing notice on her lap.<\/p>\n

\u201cI got the record from the vendor,\u201d Dale said. \u201cIt shows delivery last March.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked at the date. March 14. I don\u2019t know why I remember the four. Maybe because it was printed in a box, dark enough to read without my glasses.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s the chair?\u201d Cheryl asked.<\/p>\n

Dale\u2019s mouth tightened a little. \u201cWe\u2019re looking into that.\u201d<\/p>\n

He handed her the ticket. The paper was thin, with a gray line across the bottom where the printer had run low on ink. Cheryl read the name beside the signature.<\/p>\n

It was mine.<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t hold a pen in March.<\/span> I hadn\u2019t been able to since 2022, after a small stroke messed up my right hand. I could pick up a spoon if I took my time. I couldn\u2019t write my name.<\/p>\n

Cheryl set the ticket beside the notice.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat isn\u2019t his signature.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Dale looked at me. \u201cThe vendor\u2019s records say it was signed at delivery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI couldn\u2019t sign then,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI understand the concern.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Cheryl said. \u201cThis is his name on a delivery receipt for something he never got.\u201d<\/p>\n

I\u2019m ashamed of how quiet I was. I could have said more. I could have told Dale that I\u2019d asked twice whether the chair had arrived. Instead, I stared at that signature. It began like my name, then wandered off. The last letter had a long loop, the sort of loop I used to make before my hand stopped working.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t sign that,\u201d I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dale picked up the ticket, then put it down again.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to contact the vendor and our compliance office.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow many chairs were delivered?\u201d Cheryl asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCan you find out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

She made a copy of the ticket before Dale left. I kept the original on my bedside table. I couldn\u2019t stop looking at it, though the paper didn\u2019t change no matter how long I stared.<\/p>\n

That night, I asked Noreen if she\u2019d seen a new chair come in.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, honey,\u201d she said. \u201cNot that I remember.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid any come in last March?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t remember a delivery.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t asking Noreen to get involved. I think I wanted her to tell me I had imagined the whole thing. She didn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

The next day, Cheryl called me after she\u2019d spoken with the state. She told me a report had been opened and that the vendor\u2019s delivery records would be reviewed.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan\u2019t they just bring me the chair?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want the chair too,\u201d she said. \u201cBut I don\u2019t want the paperwork to disappear.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t like hearing it put that way. I also knew she was right.<\/p>\n

For a few weeks, the matter moved in small, dull steps. Someone from the state called Cheryl. Someone else asked for copies of the billing notice and ticket. Dale stopped by twice, once to say the review was ongoing and once to ask me when I\u2019d last seen the chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve never seen it,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

He wrote that down.<\/p>\n

The care home fixed the loaner\u2019s footplate with a replacement part. It still pulled left. I didn\u2019t complain about the repair because it was better than nothing, and I wasn\u2019t going to pretend I could manage without a chair.<\/p>\n

Three weeks later, Cheryl asked me to help her go through the dates. We sat at the little table by my bed. She had written them in a notebook.<\/p>\n

\u201cMarch 14, delivery marked,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the ticket date.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cApril, you asked whether the new chair had come.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cProbably.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou asked in May too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou told me in June they were waiting on the vendor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought that was what Dale said.\u201d<\/p>\n

Cheryl tapped the notebook with her pen. \u201cYou told me the same thing in August.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t want to bother you.\u201d<\/p>\n

She let out a small breath through her nose. \u201cI\u2019m your daughter. You\u2019re allowed to bother me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked down at my hands. My right thumb had a stiff spot from trying to grip the wheelchair rim. I\u2019d been pretending the ache was nothing because it felt embarrassing to need help with something as ordinary as getting to supper.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t want you thinking I couldn\u2019t manage,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI already know you can manage,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m asking why you had to manage this alone.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t give her a good answer. I\u2019d spent most of my life telling my kids not to make a fuss. I\u2019d also spent a good part of my life resenting people who didn\u2019t notice when I needed help. That\u2019s not fair, but it\u2019s true.<\/p>\n

Cheryl closed the notebook.<\/p>\n

\u201cI should\u2019ve checked earlier,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou had your own life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI still should\u2019ve checked.\u201d<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t tell her she was wrong. I\u2019d used my pride as a reason to keep things from her, and then quietly expected her to know.<\/p>\n

The state asked for more records. Cheryl said the vendor had reported delivering 11 wheelchairs to the building over a period of time. I didn\u2019t know what to do with that number. It sounded too large and too ordinary at once.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey say eleven?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what the records show.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd how many are here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know yet.\u201d<\/p>\n

The building had a storage room near the service hall. I\u2019d passed that door plenty of times. I knew it because the latch clicked twice when it shut. I\u2019d never asked what was inside.<\/p>\n

A staff member walked Cheryl and me down there a few days later. The room smelled like cardboard and disinfectant. There were two wheelchairs inside. One had a loose cushion. The other had a tag tied to the back.<\/p>\n

Cheryl looked at the chairs, then at the staff member.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre these the only ones?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThese are the ones stored here,\u201d the staff member said.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t say anything. My chair was not there. The chair listed on the ticket was not there. Eleven had been marked delivered. Two sat in that room.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to ask where the other nine went. I also worried that asking would turn the staff against me. That sounds foolish now, but it didn\u2019t feel foolish then. I depended on people in that building to help me bathe, dress, and get out of bed.<\/span> A man can be angry and still know he needs someone to bring his breakfast.<\/p>\n

The state kept reviewing records. Dale told me the home had hired someone to help answer the questions. He said the facility was cooperating.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope so,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know this has been frustrating.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrustrating is when the TV won\u2019t get the channel.\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave a small, tired laugh. I didn\u2019t. I wasn\u2019t trying to be funny.<\/p>\n

Two months after Cheryl first asked for the ticket, the state contacted her with an update. The vendor had to return the $2,100 paid for my chair.<\/span> The review also found other problems with the records. I don\u2019t know the full count, and I don\u2019t want to make it sound like I do. What I know is that the state required the vendor to replace four chairs on our hall.<\/p>\n

Cheryl told me in my room.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo I get one now?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou get a proper chair.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow soon?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey said nine days.\u201d<\/p>\n

I had trouble believing the number. Nine days sounded almost like a promise.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it in writing?\u201d<\/p>\n

She showed me the email on her phone. I read the date and the words about delivery. Then I handed the phone back.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

That was all I could manage.<\/p>\n

The new chair came on a Tuesday. I remember the smell of the rubber tires, sharp and a little sweet, and how the footrests clicked into place. The technician adjusted the seat while I watched. He asked me to try the wheels.<\/p>\n

\u201cPush forward,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

I did.<\/p>\n

The chair went straight.<\/span><\/p>\n

I tried another push, harder this time. The left wheel didn\u2019t drag me toward the wall. I made the turn to the door without bumping the frame.<\/p>\n

Cheryl was standing near the bed. She was smiling, but her eyes looked tired.<\/p>\n

\u201cBetter?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cQuite a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n

The technician asked if I wanted him to take the old loaner away. I told him yes. I didn\u2019t want it in the room another day.<\/p>\n

The delivery ticket from March is still in my drawer. I could have thrown it out once the state finished reviewing everything. I haven\u2019t. I\u2019m not keeping it because I think a signature will explain who put it there. I don\u2019t know that. I\u2019m keeping it because for months I thought the problem was my asking too much.<\/span><\/p>\n

My daughter visits on Sundays now. She still brings sandwiches, and sometimes the mayonnaise is too heavy. She asks if the wheels are working. I tell her they are.<\/p>\n

I can cross the hall without leaning hard on my right arm.<\/span> That\u2019s a small thing, but I notice it every time.<\/p>\n

The old ticket stays folded beside the new chair\u2019s warranty papers.<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

\n

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