Originally Written August 4, 2026
People talk about Alzheimer’s as if the disease is the hardest part.
It isn’t.
One of the hardest parts is trying to get help.
The moment someone is diagnosed with Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia, there should be a caregiving benefit through Medicare. Not a handful of hours. Not enough to check a box and say assistance was provided. Real help. Enough hours to make a meaningful difference for families who suddenly find themselves responsible for keeping another human being safe every hour of every day.
People don’t realize what this disease requires. It isn’t a doctor visit every few months. It’s meals. Medications. Bathing. Dressing. Laundry. Cleaning. Transportation. Preventing falls. Redirecting confusion. Managing behaviors. Being awake when they’re awake. Being there when they’re scared. Being there when they forget who you are.
It’s a full-time job.
Actually, it’s several full-time jobs.
Over the last two years, I spent nearly $120,000 caring for my mom. That’s about $60,000 a year. $5,000 every month. And that’s without counting the income I couldn’t earn because I was caregiving.
How is that sustainable for the average family?
Then people say, “Well, Medicaid will help.”
Will it?
Only if you’re poor enough.
The reality is that many families fall into a cruel middle ground. They have too many assets to qualify for Medicaid, but nowhere near enough money to comfortably pay for years of dementia care. Families are expected to drain savings, sell assets, and spend years navigating complicated eligibility rules while desperately trying to keep their loved one safe.
My mom went through two years of medical spend-down, and she still didn’t qualify.
Think about how absurd that is.
This is exactly why our healthcare system needs to do better. We spend decades paying into Medicare and Medicaid through our taxes and our work. Over a lifetime, many of us contribute hundreds of thousands of dollars into these programs, believing they’ll be there when we need them most. Yet when that day comes, we’re told the help is limited, delayed, or unavailable unless we’ve exhausted nearly everything we own.
That isn’t a safety net.
That’s a system that waits for people to become financially devastated before offering meaningful support.
Healthcare should never be treated as a reward for being poor enough or a privilege reserved for those wealthy enough to pay out of pocket. We all deserve quality care.
Poor people deserve excellent healthcare.
Working-class people deserve excellent healthcare.
Middle-class people deserve excellent healthcare.
Wealthy people deserve excellent healthcare.
A person’s bank account should never determine whether they can safely care for a loved one with Alzheimer’s or receive the support they need themselves. That is what a truly universal healthcare system should strive for: equal access to quality care for everyone, regardless of income.
We ask families to become nurses, caregivers, advocates, chauffeurs, accountants, and legal experts overnight. We expect them to sacrifice careers, retirement savings, physical health, and mental health. Then we tell them they don’t qualify for help because they aren’t broke enough.
That isn’t compassion.
That’s a broken system.
America’s elderly deserve better.
Their families deserve better.
No one should have to choose between caring for the person they love and financial ruin.
Alzheimer’s already steals memories. It shouldn’t be allowed to steal a family’s future too.
Do better.