Blog Archives
The Missing Millions: Why So Many Veterans Still Lack Disability Ratings
In the United States today, a significant portion of the veteran population remains without a service-connected disability rating—even though many receive ongoing care from the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA). This gap affects millions and stems from long-standing structural issues and common misunderstandings.
How Many Veterans Are Unrated?
Recent federal data shows:
17.8 million veterans currently live in the U.S.
Only 5.2 million (about 30%) have a service-connected disability rating.
That leaves roughly 12.5 million veterans without a rating, including an estimated 6 million who separated before disability assessments became part of the mandatory out-processing process.
Before the mid-1990s and early 2000s reforms, the DoD did not require a disability evaluation as part of separation or retirement. Millions of veterans left service with no assessment and never filed later simply because the process was unclear or unknown.
Two VA Systems — and They Don’t Communicate
A critical fact many veterans do not know:
VA Healthcare and VA Disability Compensation are completely separate systems.
Receiving VA medical care does not create or update a disability rating.
Diagnoses, imaging, or treatment inside VA healthcare records are not reviewed for disability compensation unless a veteran files a claim.
No condition—primary or secondary—moves into the disability system automatically.
Many veterans assume that being treated for chronic pain, orthopedic injuries, sleep issues, or mental health conditions means their disability file is being updated. It isn’t. Only a formal claim triggers review.
The Impact on Veterans
Millions of veterans who never filed a claim at all.
Veterans with worsening conditions who never requested rating increases.
VA healthcare patients with serious diagnoses that were never evaluated for service-connection.
Missed compensation, lost benefits, and reduced access to programs tied to rating thresholds.
A single misconception—“VA healthcare updates my disability rating”—can cost a veteran years of deserved benefits.
What Every Veteran Should Do Now
To ensure disability benefits reflect current health conditions, veterans should:
1. Review their conditions regularly
Check for new diagnoses, worsening symptoms, or secondary conditions.
2. File new or supplemental claims
Use VA.gov, mail, or accredited submission channels to request evaluation.
3. Understand the system
VA healthcare records do not update disability ratings. A claim must be submitted.
4. Track secondary conditions
Issues like sleep apnea, depression, migraines, radiculopathy, GERD, or joint degeneration often stem from service-connected primaries.
Veterans who separated before mandatory disability evaluations around 2010 are especially vulnerable because many were never informed of the modern process.
Closing the Gap
With only ~30% of veterans holding a disability rating—and millions eligible but unrated—awareness is essential. Understanding that VA healthcare and VA disability compensation operate independently is the first step toward ensuring every veteran receives the benefits they earned through service.
Need Help Understanding Your Claim Path?
If you or a veteran you know is unsure about eligibility, secondary conditions, or how to properly file, guidance is available. Filing a claim is not automatic—but it can be straightforward when you understand the rules and requirements.
How to Add Evidence to Your VA Disability Claim
I have been getting the title of the this alot.
Yes, you can add evidence to a VA disability claim after it has been submitted, as long as the claim is still open (not yet decided). Great example, is you decide to have a provider complete the VAs DBQ as your medical evidence is limited and it was after you already pressed submit. Some claims take several months so you shouldn’t worry about not submitting it.
Here are your options depending on the stage of your claim:
✅ If the claim is still in progress (Pending / Under Review):
You can submit additional evidence directly via:
- VA.gov (log in → go to your claim → “Upload documents”) Only method I recommend
- Mail to: Department of Veterans Affairs
Claims Intake Center
PO Box 4444
Janesville, WI 53547-4444
(Use a VA Form 21-4138 or 20-10210 to explain what you’re submitting) - Fax: 844-531-7818 (for domestic) or 248-524-4260 (international)
- Mail to: Department of Veterans Affairs
Be sure to include:
- Your VA file number or SSN
- The specific claim it relates to
- A clear description of what the evidence is and why it’s relevant
If a decision has already been made: (you got your claim letter back from the VA)
You cannot just “add” evidence—you’ll need to take one of these steps:
| Scenario | Action | Form |
|---|---|---|
| You’re still within the 1-year appeal window | File a Supplemental Claim | VA Form 20-0995. do it online and your lay letters don’t have to be on the official form |
| You think a clear error was made | File a Higher-Level Review | VA Form 20-0996 do it online and your lay letters don’t have to be on the official form |
| You want a hearing with a judge (last last resort) | File a Board Appeal (18 months!) | VA Form 10182 do it online and your lay letters don’t have to be on the official form |
In all three cases, you can submit new evidence (except during Higher-Level Review, where no new evidence is allowed).
Hope this helps folks out there!
Life Changes in an Instant: A Caregiver’s Journey
We’ve all heard the phrase: “In the blink of an eye, everything can change.” It’s easy to brush off—it’s a quote we’ve heard in books, seen in movies, or used when something minor goes sideways. I’ve heard it a million times. But living it—really living it—is different.
As a two-time caregiver, I’ve come to truly understand the depth of that phrase. This second time around has given me what we used to call in the military situational awareness. That’s the moment when you stop reacting emotionally and begin assessing reality: the inputs, the outputs, and what you can do—even if it’s just mitigating the damage.
A few months ago, my wife hadn’t walked in six months. Chemo had ravaged her body. She was pale, fragile, eyes sunken. I’d seen that look before in others, but this was my wife.
Then one morning, I walked into our little home gym and found her wheelchair stuck in the doorway. I looked across the room and there she was, standing—cleaning out a closet.
“How did you get over there?” I asked, stunned.
“I walked,” she said.
Using the treadmill and bench to balance herself, she’d made her way across the room. That was the first time in half a year. I yelled for our son—his mom had walked. Within a week she was moving around the house. Within a month, she was logging 5,000 steps a day, laughing with friends, going to parties. Her oncologist called it miraculous.
Life returned. Our home was lighter. The walker and wheelchair went back in the garage. We stopped arguing. We were happy again—almost like the storm had passed without us noticing.
Then her knee started to ache. Badly. We pulled the walker back out. Then the wheelchair. And when I had to reinstall the ramp on our front steps… that’s when it hit me.
We were back at the bottom.
Tensions flared again. My daughter and I, already frayed, started arguing like before. Caregiving is constant—it never turns off. It demands your whole being. You feel like if you step away for even a moment, everything might fall apart.
But this time… I told myself it would be different.
My wife, thankfully, was approved for Social Security Disability in a single day. Say what you will about government programs—but after 40 years of paying taxes, that moment mattered. It gave us some breathing room. I no longer needed to work part time just to get by. Now, I could be present. For her. For our daughter. And for myself.
That meant waking early. Drinking my coffee in peace. Saying my mantras. Walking the dogs. Going to fitness class. Writing. Reflecting.
We were gifted three months of light. Three months of freedom. And even if that season never returns, I will always cherish it.
Because I know how quickly it can all change.
Situational awareness isn’t just for combat zones. It’s for living rooms. For hospital beds. For quiet corners where you cry alone. It’s knowing when to breathe, when to speak, and when to let go of trying to control what can’t be controlled.
It’s about grace.
It’s about gratitude.
And it’s about recognizing—in the blink of an eye—that even the smallest step forward is a miracle worth holding onto.
