Author: Teresa

Waivers Pt. 7: Why Does This Bother People So Much?

Before anything else, I want to say this clearly. I know there are people working in this system—case managers, service facilitators, providers—who have seen situations where a parent being paid to care for their adult child wasn’t the best setup. Situations where things didn’t work the way they should. 

I’m not speaking to those situations. Those need to be addressed. That’s not what this is about. 

I also want to be equally clear about something else. The purpose of this isn’t to dismiss safeguards, oversight, or legitimate concerns that exist within the system. 

It’s to remove stigma.  

The Question Underneath It All 

There often seems to be an underlying discomfort with the idea of a parent being paid to care for their adult child. That discomfort shows up in different ways. 

Questions about conflict of interest. Questions about fraud. Questions about whether families should be doing this anyway. 

Some of those concerns are fair. 

But they also reveal something deeper about what people assume caregiving is—and who they believe it should count for. 

What Some People Assume 

For some people, there’s an underlying assumption that this care is something extra. Something optional. Something that wouldn’t happen otherwise. The thinking often goes something like this: 

“Well, parents take care of their children.” 

And that’s true–most parents do. But we’re not talking about typical parenting. We’re talking about caregiving that, in many cases, continues long after childhood has ended. We’re talking about adults who may need assistance with bathing, toileting, feeding, supervision, transportation, medication management, communication, mobility, behavioral support, medical appointments, and countless other daily tasks. We’re talking about care that may be required twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. 

For years. Sometimes for decades. 

Yet there is occasionally an assumption that if a parent is doing that work, it somehow doesn’t count as work because it is being done out of love. 

I’ve never understood that. 

Love doesn’t eliminate labor.  Or responsibility. Or exhaustion. In fact, many of the most demanding things people do in their lives are done because of love. Yet when family caregiving enters the conversation, the presence of love is sometimes used as a reason to diminish the work itself. 

The care exists whether compensation exists or not–the supervision, the responsibility, the sleepless nights, the crisis management, and the advocacy also exist. The only thing being debated is whether society is willing to acknowledge that reality. 

And perhaps that’s the question underneath all of this. 

If the exact same care is considered valuable when performed by a stranger, why does its value suddenly become questionable when performed by the person who knows the individual best? 

The care doesn’t become easier, the needs don’t become smaller, the responsibility doesn’t become lighter… 

The last name simply changes.  

The Person Missing From the Conversation 

Something else strikes me whenever this topic comes up. The conversation often focuses on the parent. 

The parent being paid. 

The parent providing the care. 

The parent documenting hours. 

The parent being monitored. 

The parent being trusted—or not trusted. 

But the person who seems to disappear from the conversation is the individual receiving the services. 

And they should be at the center of it.

After all, the entire purpose of the waiver system is supposed to be improving their quality of life, not making a philosophical statement about family responsibility. The purpose is to support the individual. 

Often, that gets lost. 

If a person receives better care from someone who knows them well, why wouldn’t that matter? If they experience less anxiety because they are surrounded by familiar people, why wouldn’t that matter? If they experience fewer disruptions, fewer transitions, fewer misunderstandings, fewer setbacks, why wouldn’t that matter? If they are more comfortable, more secure, more regulated, more willing to participate in their community, more willing to try new things, and more confident because they have stable support around them, why wouldn’t that matter? 

Those outcomes matter. 

In fact, they’re the whole point.

The goal should never be simply filling a staffing position–it should be creating the best possible outcome for the individual receiving services.

I should probably mention something here–I don’t get paid to care for my daughter. But after decades of caring for her, I have seen firsthand that there is another layer to care that often gets overlooked in these conversations. 

It’s the emotional investment. 

A paid caregiver may genuinely care about the individual they support. Many do. But a parent often carries something more. They carry years of accumulated knowledge, memories, observations, instincts, and experiences that can’t be taught in an orientation or written in a care plan. 

They notice subtle changes. 

They recognize warning signs. 

They know when something feels off, even when they can’t immediately explain why. 

They remember what worked five years ago when a particular challenge came up. 

They know what causes anxiety, what creates comfort, what builds confidence, and what helps the individual feel safe. 

That level of familiarity isn’t simply sentimental. 

It has practical value. 

And when it benefits the individual receiving services, I believe it deserves to be part of the conversation. 

I’ve had 34 years learning my daughter’s communication style and am still learning.  Sometimes it’s just how her eyes look.  How can I teach that to someone?  For instance, when she is getting ready to get sick—vomit—her eyes literally get a different look to them that cannot be described or “taught” to someone.  When that happens, I know I pretty much have to hold her over and head down so she doesn’t aspirate.   

She doesn’t instinctively do that herself. 

When she chomps her teeth a certain way, I know there’s a pain in her somewhere that is going to cause her to grab—something, someone—and I must make sure she’s in a safe space when that happens.

It’s those nuances that literally can mean life or death in certain situations. 

BUT, it’s weird for family members to be providers and there’s a chance of fraudulent activity, so let’s just risk it. (If I’m sounding snarky, it’s because I’m being snarky.) 

 The Situation No One Wants to Sit With 

A parent is willing to provide the care–not reluctantly or out of obligation, but because they genuinely want to do it. They know their child. They understand their needs. They’ve built routines, trust, communication, and familiarity that didn’t happen overnight. 

But they can’t afford it. Wanting to care for someone doesn’t pay the bills. 

So now they’re faced with a decision that isn’t really a choice. They either step away from the workforce to provide the care and absorb the financial consequences, or they step away from providing the care so they can afford to survive financially. 

And if they step away from the care, then what? 

Someone else steps in. 

Someone new. 

Someone who has to learn everything from scratch. 

The routines. 

The triggers. 

The communication styles. 

The preferences. 

The subtle things families often know instinctively after years together. 

And maybe that works. 

But maybe it doesn’t. 

Maybe there’s turnover. 

Maybe there are gaps. 

Maybe consistency becomes uncertain. 

And now the individual—the very person this system is supposed to support—is the one absorbing that instability.  Or worse. 

I’ll also add here–finding providers is next to impossible.  That deserves its own post.

The Part Many People Never See 

There’s another reality that often gets overlooked in these conversations. Some people hear that a family member is a paid caregiver and assume they’re being compensated for every moment of every day. 

That’s not how it works. 

For individuals receiving waiver services, allowable hours are assessed and authorized based on need. Those hours vary from person to person, but they are not unlimited. 

For live-in family caregivers, this creates a reality that many people never stop to consider. 

The caregiving doesn’t stop when the authorized hours run out—it continues. 

The individual still needs assistance. The supervision is still required. The responsibility is still there. The difference is that the compensation stops. A live-in caregiver may provide support twenty-four hours a day while only being authorized payment for a fraction of that time. 

Most workers eventually step away from their responsibilities for the day. 

Live-in family caregivers cannot. 

There is no leaving the job site when the person you support lives under the same roof. There is no commute home from the responsibility because the responsibility is already home. 

The timesheet may end, but the caregiving doesn’t–the individual doesn’t stop needing support because the authorized hours have been exhausted. 

That’s not a complaint–it’s simply reality.  Something that few have stopped to consider.

A Different Question 

The question shouldn’t be “Should a parent be paid?”

The question should be “What arrangement provides the greatest stability, safety, comfort, trust, consistency, and quality of life for the individual receiving services?”

Those are not always the same question. One focuses on the caregiver. The other focuses on the individual.

If we’re forced to choose between the two, I believe the individual should win every time. After all, they’re the reason the system exists in the first place.

____________________________________________

At the end of the day, this conversation shouldn’t center around politics, assumptions, stigma, or even payment. The spotlight belongs on the individual receiving the care. They are the reason any of this exists in the first place. They deserve stability, consistency, continuity of care. They deserve to feel comfortable and safe with the people caring for them, relationships with caregivers who know them—not a revolving door of turnover, uncertainty, delays, setbacks, and constant starting over. 

For many individuals with disabilities, consistency is not a luxury. It is directly tied to emotional well-being, regulation, trust, communication, progress, and quality of life. 

Regression is real. 

Anxiety is real. 

Fear of unfamiliar people is real. 

The exhaustion of constantly adapting to new caregivers is real. 

And the system should never risk the individual suffering—or worse—because of misplaced assumptions, resentment, or discomfort surrounding family caregiving dynamics.

The focus should always remain on what creates the safest, healthiest, most stable environment for the person receiving the care–not what sounds best politically, or what outsiders assume, or what makes people most comfortable philosophically 

The individual should be the motivating force behind every conversation.

People are not interchangeable. Especially not for individuals who rely heavily on familiarity, routine, trust, communication, and emotional safety. For many families, consistency isn’t simply preferred–it’s essential. Sometimes understanding begins the moment we stop looking at care as a system and start looking at the human beings living inside it. 

If this shifted your perspective even a little or helped you better understand the realities many families are navigating, share it. 

 

 

The Donut Bush

Last night, I dreamed I was back at the house where I grew up in Princeton, West Virginia. Everything looked the way I remembered it. 

Britni was sitting in a lounge chair on the sidewalk in the front yard, enjoying the sunshine while I was over in the side yard meeting our new neighbors, who apparently were billionaires. Dreams just hand you information like that and expect you not to question it…it seems so normal. lol 

While we were talking, I noticed two people walking up the sidewalk toward Britni. I recognized one of them immediately. It was David, the son of my old babysitter, and walking with him was a little girl about 10 years old who I didn’t recognize. 

I started walking over toward them, and without even thinking about it, I reached over to the billionaire lady, put my left arm around her waist and held her right hand with my right hand—the same way I walk with Britni. 

She just went with it. 

Once we got over there, I laughed and said, “Well, my gosh, I’ve been walking you like I do Britni.” 

She didn’t seem bothered by it at all. I just let her go and went to hug the little girl (who I didn’t know, but in my dream, I didn’t know I didn’t know her—you know?) 

I told David how good it was to see him. He said, “I saw where you posted on Facebook that Britni would be sitting out here enjoying the sun, so we wanted to stop by.” 

That felt perfectly normal in the dream. Childhood memories, Facebook posts, old neighbors, present-day life — all of it just blended together. 

Since I didn’t know the billionaire’s name, I said, “Y’all can introduce yourselves,” and she said, “I like gardening and working on cars,” (which honestly made me laugh a little after I woke up, because that sounds less like a billionaire and more like me). 

I said, “Um, can ya tell us your name?” 

Unfortunately, I don’t remember what she said it was, but anyway… 

There were two random dogs there with us, and David said he wanted to meet Baxter.  I told him that Baxter was inside, I’d bring him out in a bit, and warned him that Baxter was gonna go wild.  New Neighbor said she’d seen him in the yard when new people showed up, and that he did, indeed, love people and would give them lots of kisses.

I began telling New Neighbor about the flowers and bushes Mom used to grow there. Gladiolus. Snowball bushes. The kinds of plants that used to be in everybody’s yard years ago. 

Then David pointed over near the steps and asked, “Did you pull it up?” 

“What?” 

“The donut bush.” 

Like that was a completely normal thing to say. 

He said, “I told Mom y’all would never have to buy donuts again with that donut bush out here.” 

And suddenly I remembered it too–a bush that grew plain cake donuts. 

No icing. No glaze. No sprinkles. Just regular cake donuts hanging from the branches in perfect circles with holes in the middle. 

And the strangest part was that in the dream, it made complete sense. 

I told him no, we would never have pulled up a donut bush. While I’m telling him this, I was thinking, wow, how did this plant grow round donuts with holes in the middle? My fascination wasn’t because it was a donut, but that it was round. With a hole in it. 

I said that there must have been something that happened to it outside of our control, because we’d never pull up a donut bush. 

There was more stuff to the dream, but this was what stood out the most. It felt familiar in a way I can’t explain. People from old seasons of life showing back up. Britni sitting peacefully in the sunshine. Gardening conversations. Dogs wandering around. Baxter inside the house waiting to come meet everybody because apparently even my subconscious knows he thinks every visitor exists specifically for him. 

All of It in One Yard

The whole thing felt like every version of my life got dropped into the same yard at once. 

Childhood.
Motherhood.
Caregiving.
Social media/content creating.
Old neighbors.
New people.
Plants my mom used to grow.
Dogs.

And a donut bush. 

Before Everything Had to Make Sense

Funny how that works. When you’re little, you just accept things. Of course there could be a donut bush. Of course people stop by unexpectedly. Of course everybody gathers in the yard. Of course somebody’s mom grows gladiolus by the steps. 

Maybe that’s why the dream stuck with me. Not because it “meant” something huge—it just reminded me that some of the best parts of life have never made complete sense in the first place. 

There are some things in life you protect because they fed something in you beyond hunger. 

Wonder. Comfort. Childhood. Magic. The feeling that ordinary places might still contain impossible things. 

This morning, just before Robbie left for work, I told him all about my dream. He laughed and said, “I love you. I’ll bring home some Entenmann’s.” 

Maybe we all need to hang onto a few dreams about pastry-producing shrubs every now and then—just to keep a little wonder alive. 

Photo of a shrub with cake donuts growing on it

Waivers Pt. 6: Behind the Scenes

Taking the Face Off the Clock 

This is a behind-the-scenes look at consumer-directed waiver services in the Commonwealth of Virginia based on my personal understanding and lived experience—not legal or policy advice.

I want to be clear from the beginning that this isn’t a manual, textbook, or official policy guide. It’s simply my perspective as someone living inside the system.

I’ve realized a lot of people don’t truly understand how these services operate day to day. Truthfully, I didn’t understand all the moving parts either until we became part of them ourselves. Even now, new questions still come up. Like most things connected to government systems, there always seems to be some level of learning, relearning, clarifying, and figuring things out as you go.

Getting Started 

If you believe you or your loved one may qualify for CCC Plus Waiver services, the process typically begins by contacting your local Department of Social Services or local Health Department to request a screening. 

You’ll likely be asked questions about daily care needs and why waiver services are being requested, so it helps to think ahead about the kinds of support that may be needed—things like personal care, supervision, respite, or help remaining safely in the home and community. 

Important points here: 

>You have the right to request a screening.
>You cannot legally be denied the opportunity to be screened. If someone refuses to screen you, ask for that denial in writing.
>You also do not have to already be on Medicaid—or even have submitted a Medicaid application yet—to request the screening itself. 

Now, I’m going to be very candid here. 

The screening process can feel deeply uncomfortable, because the questions are going to place a very bright spotlight on the individual’s needs and limitations. And if you’re a parent requesting a screening for your child, this is not the time to soften things, minimize things, or lead with the victories. 

Most of us spend our lives doing exactly that. We focus on progress. Gains. The good moments. We adapt so completely to our loved one’s needs that many things simply become “normal” to us. But during a screening, the goal is to accurately reflect the level of support that is actually needed day to day. 

So, if your 12-year-old wears pull-ups due to incontinence, but successfully used the toilet twice last month, this is not the time to share that victory. The determining factor is still the incontinence. That doesn’t erase the progress–it just means the need still exists.  And that distinction matters.

Mommas, I know how difficult this is to focus on the “can’ts”, but this is one of those situations where it means approval or denial. And of course, be honest with your answers.

Once Approved… 

Once an individual is approved for a waiver and chooses consumer-directed services, several things happen. 

A service facilitator is chosen. Think of them as the person helping guide and monitor the process. They’re the liaison helping families navigate requirements, paperwork, updates, authorizations, and making sure services are operating as they should. 

Then hours per week are assigned. 

Those hours aren’t random. They’re determined based on the individual’s assessed needs. Some people receive fewer hours. Some receive significantly more.  This is important–those approved hours are the maximum available. They cannot be exceeded. 

The Employer of Record (EOR) 

An Employer of Record (EOR) is appointed.  This is the person responsible for overseeing individual(s) providing the caregiving. They review and approve timesheets, help manage providers, and ensure hours and tasks being submitted match the care being provided. Basically, the provider’s “supervisor” of sorts. 

Sometimes the individual receiving services serves as the EOR (if they’re an adult), sometimes someone else does. It depends on the individual’s ability to manage those responsibilities. 

Choosing Providers  

The consumer or their representative then hires the providers they want. (Different terms for provider are “caregiver” or “attendant.”) 

Those providers must pass background checks and complete enrollment requirements. This isn’t someone simply deciding to pay a family member under the table. 

There are processes. Documentation. Requirements. 

And whether someone has two providers or ten, the approved weekly hours are divided among them. That does not mean the hours must be equally divided. It simply means the total approved hours cannot be exceeded. 

Respite Hours 

There are also respite hours available—currently 480 hours per fiscal year. These are separate from regular provider care hours and are there to provide respite for the primary provider. (Live-in providers do not use respite hours.) 

This part surprises people sometimes–respite can even apply overnight while the individual is asleep. Regular provider hours cannot be used during that time. 

The Day-to-Day Reality 

For non-live-in providers, care hours are documented through the EVV app—Electronic Visit Verification. 

They clock in.
 They clock out.
They document the care tasks performed. 

If someone lives with the individual receiving care, their time can typically be submitted through the online portal instead of clocking in and out through the app. 

At the end of each two-week pay period, submitted hours are reviewed by the EOR. The EOR checks those hours against the care that was actually provided.  If accurate, EOR approves them. Some choose to approve them all at once at the end of the pay period, others may choose to approve them as they come in. Typically the following week, providers receive their pay. 

That’s the basic rhythm of how the system functions. 

The Service Facilitator’s Role 

The service facilitator visits regularly—typically monthly. They’re looking at whether services are going smoothly, whether there have been issues with the app or portal, whether staffing is stable, whether there have been hospital stays, changes in health, or other concerns that affect services. 

And I want to pause here for a second and say this clearly: These facilitators are often carrying enormous caseloads. A lot of what does work in this system works because there are people inside it trying very hard to hold it together. 

The Hospital Rule 

Here’s something many people don’t realize. If the individual receiving services is admitted to the hospital, waiver hours cannot be billed during that stay—even if the provider remains there around the clock continuing to provide care. 

For example, if I were my daughter’s provider and she was admitted to the hospital, I could stay with her 24 hours a day for five straight days (and I have). During that time, I would still be providing care. 

Toileting.
Bathing.
Feeding.
Supervision.
Personal grooming.
Comfort.
Advocacy. 

The care doesn’t stop because the setting changes. 

But those hours cannot be billed because it’s considered double-billing while the hospital is also being paid for care. 

And before someone jumps to conclusions, yes—I understand the reasoning behind that policy. But I also think it’s important for people to understand the reality of what that can look like for families. The assumption is often that once someone enters a hospital, the provider gets to step away. 

And many times, that’s just not true. 

What I Hope People Understand 

Consumer-directed services are often talked about very simplistically online—and sometimes suspiciously or condescendingly, as though families are simply getting paid to care for their loved one and little more.

But when you “remove the face from the clock” and actually look at the inner workings, you see something very different.

You see a layered system filled with responsibilities, oversight, moving parts, deadlines, approvals, documentation, and constant coordination.

It’s not simply “getting paid to care for your family member.” 

It’s managing care inside a structured system while still living real life at the same time. Understanding that matters. The conversation changes when people actually see the inner workings instead of just reacting to the headline version of it. 

Even after understanding the mechanics of how this system works, there’s still another layer underneath it all–the assumptions some people carry about the families using it. 

That’s where I’m going in Part 7. 

 

If this changed your perspective or helped you better understand what families inside this system are actually navigating, share it. Sometimes stigma starts to fade the moment people finally see the full picture. 

 

Waivers Pt. 5: When Real Life Doesn’t Fit the System

Let me first say this… 

Waivers are a good thing. They allow people to stay in their homes, receive care in their communities, and live with a level of independence that wouldn’t otherwise be possible. If you think you or your loved one qualifies, you should absolutely apply. 

AND, you also deserve to know what comes with it.

Not just the benefits—but the realities. Because there are parts of this system that can catch people off guard if they don’t know what to expect. Going into it with your eyes wide open matters.  Everything I’m sharing with you are situations I didn’t learn until after the fact, after we had to hurdle a roadblock, after the headache (or during). 

This Is Where It Starts to Get Real

This is one of the more recent changes… 

After years of things working one way, a new rule was put in place: attendants now have 30 days from the date of service to submit their shifts. If they don’t, those hours can be denied—and not paid. 

And a lot of people didn’t even know it had changed. 

Until they paid for it.  Until they didn’t get paid.

Right after the 30-day rule went into effect, I watched people lose thousands of dollars in pay they had already earned. Not because they didn’t do the job. Because they were a few days late. 

Make this make sense.

The Fair Labor Standards Act is built on a pretty simple idea: if you work, you get paid. The Department of Labor says if someone is “suffered or permitted” to work, that time counts.

In plain English? If you showed up and did the job, that time is supposed to be paid.

Can there be rules? Yes. Deadlines? Yes. Consequences for not following them? Yes.

But the work was still done. The care was still provided. The person still showed up. And yet—the pay can be denied.

If someone shows up, does the work, provides the care, and doesn’t get paid because of a deadline—that’s not accountability.

That’s a system taking labor it has no intention of paying for.

Back up and read that again.

When something like that happens, the response you’ll often hear is, “Just contact them.” “Just appeal it.” As if the person responsible has endless time and capacity to chase down a system, make calls, file appeals, and follow up over and over again. As if that’s a small ask. As if the same person already managing care, appointments, daily challenges, and everything else in their life can just add that to the list. 

This Is Where It Starts to Fall Apart

That’s the gap I’m talking about. The one between how this is supposed to work and how it actually plays out. 

You can understand a system on paper all day long. You can follow the rules, check the boxes, and do everything the way it’s supposed to be done. But that’s not where this gets decided. It gets decided in real life, and real life doesn’t run on perfect timing. 

This is what it starts to look like. It looks like someone doing everything they’re supposed to do until something small goes wrong. The app glitches. There’s no service. Something doesn’t submit correctly. Or it’s not even the system—it’s life. A bad day. A health issue. An appointment that throws everything off. A delay in approving a timesheet because the person receiving care is dealing with something bigger than paperwork. 

And then it turns into something bigger. Because now it’s not just a small issue—it’s a worker who doesn’t get paid when they expected to. And now that worker has to decide if they can afford to stay. If they can’t, they leave. Not because they don’t care and not because they don’t want to be there, but because they can’t take the risk. 

And then the question becomes: now what? Who steps in? How long does it take? What happens in the meantime? Because care doesn’t pause while the system gets sorted out. 

This is the part you don’t see. You don’t see the waiting, the scrambling, or the quiet stress of knowing that something small can turn into something big. And it adds up. It’s not one big failure—it’s a series of small ones. A glitch here, a delay there, a moment where life doesn’t line up perfectly. Over time, that turns into pressure, into uncertainty, into a system that starts to feel like something you have to manage just to keep your life steady. 

This isn’t just how it plays out–it’s also how it’s presented. I’ve seen that firsthand.

I’ve Seen This Up Close

A few years ago, invitations were sent out to an “educational” presentation on the new policies regarding Electronic Visit Verification (EVV). The meeting was at a library, and when I walked in, the room told the story before anyone even spoke. It was mostly elderly individuals, people in wheelchairs, people who were very clearly living with disabilities—people this system is supposed to support. 

We were there to be “educated,” but that’s not what it felt like. The first speaker gave a quick overview of what EVV is and how it came to be, tying it back to the 21st Century Cures Act signed into law in December 2016. And then the meeting took a turn. 

Another speaker stepped in, and it became very clear why we were really there. This wasn’t about helping people understand a system they were about to be required to use. This was about fraud. We were given one story—one example of a family—about a case of fraud, and it was held up like it explained everything, like it justified everything. Allegedly, this family had defrauded the system for six years for thousands of dollars.

That’s when I started to realize there was a lot more going on here than what was being presented. And here’s what didn’t sit right with me then—and still doesn’t. For that family to have allegedly gotten away with that for six years, that’s not just on them. That’s a system failure. There are layers in place, multiple points where something like that should have been caught. If it went on that long, then something broke.

Everyone dropped the ball. 

And then came the part that stuck with me. We were told, point blank, that they had our email addresses from when we registered and that we couldn’t claim we didn’t know about this now. We couldn’t claim ignorance if we were noncompliant. Finger wagging and all. Literally.  He held his hand up, pointed at the audience, and wagged his finger at us as he said it.

Let’s Call It What It Is

This is where it shifts. I said this earlier, but it hits differently when you see it up close. What’s called “consumer-directed” is something else entirely. Because when the system dictates the timing, the process, the approval, and the structure, the consumer has very little control over it anymore. 

You can understand a system on paper all day long, but until you see what it looks like in someone’s actual life, you don’t really understand it. 

This is what that looks like. 

I want to hear from you. If you’ve lived this—on any side of it—what has it looked like for you? What worked? What didn’t? What do people need to understand that they don’t? You can email me at miss.wva279@gmail.com –anything you share will remain anonymous.

The more this is talked about in real terms, the harder it is to ignore. 

If this shifted your perspective—or if you think it might help someone else understand this a little better—share it.

 

 

 

Waivers Pt. 4: When EVV Meets Real Life

Now that you understand how EVV is supposed to work, the next question is harder to ignore. 

What happens when real life doesn’t fit neatly into that system? 

Because it doesn’t. And when it doesn’t—someone ends up paying for it. 

Let’s Start With What’s Happening Right Now 

Right now, live-in caregivers don’t have to use the Electronic Visit Verification (EVV) app to clock in and out. But those who do?  They run into a myriad of problems. 

Even though the caregiver (provider) is the one clocking in and out, and when their phone is being tracked, the reality is that the individual receiving services (consumer) is being tracked, too. Because when you track where care happens, when it happens, how long it lasts, and the tasks performed, you are documenting the life of the person receiving that care. And that goes into the “system”…wherever that is. 

All of this information is being recorded.  Daily.  Where they are.  What their routines look like.  What happens in their homes (even in their bathrooms).  Day. After. Day.   Not in a facility.  In someone’s home. 

It’s claimed that location isn’t tracked between clocking in and clocking out, but with a system like this, it’s not unreasonable to question that. 

Real Life Doesn’t Run on a Perfect Timeline 

There’s an assumption built into this system that everything will happen on time, in order, and the way it’s supposed to. But the reality is—the same life that requires this level of care is often the reason things don’t happen on a perfect timeline.  There are 

Appointments
Emergencies
Exhaustion 

Things that don’t wait…  

And when the system doesn’t allow for that, it’s not measuring responsibility; it’s ignoring reality.  

When Reality Doesn’t Fit… There Are Consequences 

If something isn’t submitted correctly, or approved in time, or doesn’t line up the way “the system” expects, it doesn’t just get corrected, it gets delayed, flagged, and yes, denied. 

In some cases, if things aren’t done exactly right, services can be impacted–and that’s where this stops being about paperwork. We’re not talking about a missed deadline at an office job, we’re talking about someone’s care. 

Someone’s ability to stay in their home. 

Someone’s stability. 

The Weight Falls in the Wrong Place 

This is where the whole thing breaks down. A lot of times, the person responsible for approving timesheets is the consumer. They are the employer of records (EOR).  This is the heart of “consumer directed” (CD) services.  An individual qualifies for services (which makes them the “consumer”) & when able, does the hiring, does the firing, does the timesheet approvals. The person who needs care is expected to manage the system that controls that care. 

But when it doesn’t go perfectly—they’re the ones who carry the consequences. 

Let’s flesh this out a bit, shall we? 

The consumer is the one who is already navigating daily challenges, relying on consistent care, managing more than most people realize, who now are expected to manage a system that requires precision, timing, and accuracy. 

With very little room for error.  

If something goes wrong (as it will, because…well…life) it doesn’t stay contained in the system.  It spills over into real life, because providers leave when things become too complicated or uncertain.  Care becomes harder to keep. Routines are disrupted.  And the person at the center of all this—the consumer, the individual receiving services—has to absorb it. 

It can look like 

App glitches
No cell service
Wi-Fi going down at the worst possible time 

Sometimes timesheet approvals can be delayed because the person receiving care is dealing with a health issue, a hospital visit, a bad day where just getting through it takes everything they have.

It can be something as simple as forgetting, being exhausted, or not even realizing something didn’t go through correctly. 

Normal life. 

But the system doesn’t account for normal life. 

Let’s Be Honest About What That Leads To 

When care becomes unreliable, when consumers can’t find or keep providers, when the system becomes harder to navigate than the care itself, there is a very real risk.  The conversation then shifts from “How do we support this person at home?” to “What are the other options?” 

And those “options” don’t always look like independence.  Sometimes the consumer has to go to a facility to receive the necessary care because providers cannot be found in their communities. 

WHICH WAS THE WHOLE POINT OF THE WAIVERS TO BEGIN WITH! 

If interested, I can get into the history of waivers in a later post, and provide an overview of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), Olmstead v. LC, and the Department of Justice’s (DOJ) action against the Commonwealth of Virginia.  (And whatever else I may deem important—those who know me know that I love research and information, and even more, getting that information to others.) 

This Is the Part That Should Make You Pause 

The person receiving services didn’t create the system, doesn’t control it, and isn’t trying to work around it.  They’re trying to live their life. Yet when things don’t line up perfectly, they’re the ones who feel it first. 

Let’s Put It Plainly 

This system doesn’t just track care. 

It can interrupt it. 

It can complicate it. 

And in some cases— 

It can put it at risk. 

Final Thought 

No one is saying there shouldn’t be accountability, but accountability should make care stronger—not more fragile. When a system can’t handle real life, it doesn’t just fail on paper; it fails the person it was meant to support. 

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t just about documentation. 

It’s about a person whose daily life is being recorded—often with little clarity about where that information goes or who has access to it. 

It’s about a system that places responsibility on the person receiving care
to keep everything running exactly right. 

And it’s about what happens when real life doesn’t line up with that expectation. 

We call it consumer-directed care, but when the EVV app is driving the process…it starts to feel more app-directed. 

And that’s a shift worth paying attention to. 

Coming up in Part 5, I move beyond how this works & show you what it looks like to actually live with it—from personal and shared stories.  If you have a story you’d like to share, please email me at miss.wva279@gmail.com You have my word that your story will remain anonymous.

 

If this shifted your perspective—even a little—or if you know someone who needs to understand this side of it, share it with them. Because the more people who see what this looks like in real life, the harder it is to ignore. 

Introducing Perspective Based Guidance for Small Businesses

I’ve sat on this for a while. 

Waiting until everything felt “ready.” Waiting until it all looked just right. 

But my mom’s voice kept coming back to me…strive for excellence, not perfection. 

So… here I am. 

Seven months after graduating with my BS in Communications, I was hired as a small business marketing counselor. I was able to work three days at home, and two days in-office, an accommodation that was made because I care for my adult daughter who has exceptional needs.  

This job didn’t create my love for small businesses—it just gave it a place to land, because that love is what sent me back to school at 44. (I remember the actual business that finally made me decide to enroll in school…all from an article in the local newspaper about them.) 

I’ve always been drawn to entrepreneurs.

The ones who take a chance.
The ones who stay up late figuring things out.
The ones who carry the weight of it all and keep going anyway. 

There’s something about that kind of grit that sticks with you.  Motivates you.  

My time as a counselor was funded by a grant, so eventually, it came to an end. But those 2.5 years? I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I had the best supervisor & coworker (I’m forever grateful to you two!), and clients who trusted me with their businesses. Many of those clients became friends and are blessings in my life.

A New Chapter

In 2024, I stepped into something new—content creation. And I love it. 

I love creating.
I love sharing.
I love Appalachia. 

So, I built Rob & Teresa in Appalachia—our YouTube channel, Facebook page, TikTok, our store 304 in the House, and even a few books through Kindle Direct Publishing. 

It’s been a different way to do what I already love.  It’s also been the catalyst to what I’m doing here.

When Robbie and I travel, we don’t seek out chains. We look for locally owned restaurants and shops. I’ll research Google Business Profiles, check out their social media pages & channels, look at photos, read reviews… (oh, the wonderful people we’ve met!), and every single time, I catch myself thinking this is so good… I wish more people knew about it.  Or oh, I could help them with this. 

Not in a critical or “let me fix you” way, of course. Just… from experience. From seeing it. And now, doing this myself—I get it.  It’s hard to step back and look at your business the way a customer does. 

So last year, I started paying attention to that, writing things down, asking myself what this could look like. Not as “marketing consulting.” 

That’s not what this is. 

Well, what is it? 

This is about how your business shows up. Because whether we realize it or not, people are making decisions about your business before you ever speak to them. 

They’re looking you up.
Scanning your page.
Glancing at your photos.
Reading your reviews.
Walking through your door. 

And in a matter of seconds, they’re deciding 

Do I trust this place?
Does this feel right?
Do I want to spend my money here? 

That’s where I come in. 

I look at your business the way a customer does—with a fresh set of eyes. When you’re in it every day, it’s hard to see what stands out… and what gets missed. I focus on how your business feels, in person and online. 

What people see first
What feels clear… or confusing
What builds confidence… or quietly turns people away
What makes someone stay… or leave  

And then I show you what I see. 

Simple as that.
No jargon.
No overwhelm.
No 47-page strategy plan you’ll never use. 

Just honest, practical perspective. The kind that makes it easier for people to find you, feel confident choosing you, and recommend you without hesitation. Most of the time, it’s not that a business isn’t good. It’s that it’s not being experienced the way it deserves to be. 

So… I’m offering Perspective Based Guidance. 

And it’s exactly what it sounds like. 

If you’ve ever found yourself wondering why more people aren’t coming in…
or why it feels harder than it should… or what you might be missing… even if you feel like you’re doing all the things…

You might not need to do more. You might just need to see it differently. 

That’s what I do. 

Most of this can be done online, but if you’re local—or I’m in your area—I’m always open to meeting in person.  If you’d like more information, you can email me at
perspectives@sincerelyteresa.com 

Sometimes it’s not about doing more. It’s about seeing what’s already there in a different way. 

To Those in the Middle of it All

Before I go any further in the Waiver Series, I want to pause for a minute and recognize the people who are in the middle of all of this every single day.

The service facilitators, the case managers, the coordinators—the ones answering the calls, returning the emails, and trying to keep everything moving.

I see how much you’re carrying. The caseloads, the deadlines, the constant changes, the expectations coming from every direction. You’re expected to know the system, explain the system, and fix the system, all while still showing up for the people who rely on you. That’s not small work.

It would be easy to look at everything that’s broken and assume it’s the people. But it’s not. It’s the weight being placed on them.

I’ve seen the extra time you take, the calls you didn’t have to return—but did, and the way you try to make things work, even when the system doesn’t. A lot of what does work… works because of you. Not because the system is perfect, but because you care enough to keep showing up inside it.

So this is just to say thank you. For the work you do, for the patience it takes, and for the way you keep people moving forward—even when it’s not easy.

And this matters too—when I talk about the system, I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about the weight being placed on you and the people you serve.

Because the truth is, a lot of people are still getting what they need today because you’re willing to stand in the middle of it all and keep going.

I see you.

Simple and elegant gold 'Thank You' text on a clean white background, perfect for gratitude cards.

Waivers Pt. 3: What is EVV?

There’s a common assumption that individuals are simply receiving services without much accountability. That’s not the case. Care has to be documented—regularly and thoroughly. It’s not a matter of a check being sent to the provider (caregiver) each month. There are already layers of oversight in place to ensure services are being provided.

EVV didn’t introduce accountability—it added another layer to a system that already had it.

What EVV Is, Why It Exists, and How It’s Supposed to Work

Before we go any further, let’s slow this down and talk about what EVV actually is, because once you understand what it was meant to do, you can better see where things start to break down.  While EVV is used with consumer-directed (CD) services (meaning the individual does the hiring/firing of providers) and agency directed, my focus is on CD services.

What Is EVV?

EVV stands for Electronic Visit Verification. It’s a system used to document when services are provided—primarily for home and community-based care. At its core, EVV tracks:

  • Who provided the service
  • Who received the service
  • What service was provided
  • Where it happened
  • When it started and ended

In the simplest terms, it’s meant to say:

This service happened, at this time, in this place.

Where Did It Come From?

EVV was mandated under the 21st Century Cures Act, passed in 2016. The goal was to

  • Reduce fraud
  • Improve accountability
  • Ensure services billed to Medicaid were actually delivered

And on the surface, that makes sense. No one is arguing against documenting care.

What Was Already in Place

This is the part that often gets overlooked. EVV didn’t enter a system with no oversight. There were already multiple layers of accountability, including

  • Monthly visits and contact with case managers or support coordinators
  • Ongoing involvement from service facilitators
  • Routine contact with the insurance or waiver representative
  • Regular reassessments of needs and services
  • Care plans that are reviewed, updated, and monitored

These aren’t casual check-ins. They are structured safeguards designed to ensure

  • services are appropriate
  • needs are being met
  • care is actually being delivered

In other words:

There were already checks and balances in place.

How It’s Supposed to Work

In theory, EVV is simple. A caregiver

  • clocks in at the start of a shift
  • clocks out at the end
  • confirms the services provided

Depending on the system, this may be done through

  • a mobile app
  • a landline call-in system
  • a fixed device in the home

For live-in caregivers, it can look different

  • time may be entered manually through the web portal
  • shifts may be verified in blocks rather than clocked in and out traditionally

Either way, the purpose is the same:

To create a record that services were provided.

When Oversight Becomes Layered

EVV didn’t replace existing oversight. It was added on top of it. So now, instead of

  • human oversight
  • relationship-based accountability
  • periodic, meaningful review

We also have

  • real-time tracking
  • time-based verification
  • system-driven documentation requirements

That shift matters. Because it changes the focus from:

“Is this person receiving the care they need?”

to:

“Does the system show that everything was documented correctly?”

When the Model Doesn’t Match the Reality

EVV was built around the idea of a “visit.” But for live-in care, there is no visit—there’s just life happening, & trying to force that into a start/stop system is where things begin to break down. The very term “visit” implies someone comes and goes. Live-in caregivers don’t.

What EVV Is Not Supposed to Be

EVV is a verification tool. It is not supposed to

  • replace the reality of care being provided
  • override what actually happened
  • act as the sole determinant of whether services “counted”

It’s meant to support documentation—not define reality.

The Human Side of a Digital System

EVV relies on

  • people remembering to clock in and out
  • systems working properly
  • entries being submitted correctly
  • approvals happening on time

In other words, it relies on both people and technology. And neither one is perfect.  Phones die.  Apps glitch.  People forget.  Life happens. Especially in environments where care is happening in real time, in real homes, with real needs taking priority over an app.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

This isn’t happening in an office. It’s happening in kitchens, bedrooms, during medical routines, in the middle of someone’s day.  Caregivers aren’t just “clocking in.”  They’re

  • helping someone get out of bed
  • managing medications
  • preparing meals
  • assisting with personal care
  • making sure someone is safe and supported

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, they’re expected to

  • stop
  • open an app
  • log time correctly
  • make sure everything is recorded exactly as required

Every.
Single.
Time.

When Verification Starts to Shape the Day

EVV requires services to be verified by time and location. In many cases, that location is tied to the individual’s home—or another approved setting. On paper, that’s about confirming where care takes place. But in practice, it can start to influence how the day unfolds.  “We need to be back to clock out.” “Let me clock in before we leave.” “I don’t want to get flagged for this.”

But when a system quietly shapes how someone moves through their day,
it’s worth paying attention.

When Documentation Gets Personal

Care has always required documentation. Under the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA), documenting care is a normal part of providing and billing for services.

But EVV and related systems have changed the volume and visibility of that documentation. Caregivers may be required to log assistance with daily activities, toileting needs, bowel & bladder issues, appointments (medical & otherwise) and outings, tasks performed throughout the day.  This isn’t just for continuity of care, but to verify services and ensure payment.

HIPAA is built on the principle of minimum necessary information.

So it’s fair to ask:

How much is truly necessary?

The Bigger Picture

EVV was created with a clear goal–to verify that services are being provided–but it wasn’t introduced into an empty system. It was layered onto one that already had multiple safeguards. And when you add system-driven verification on top of human oversight, the question becomes “are we strengthening accountability or shifting how it’s measured?

A Simple Truth

When the name of the system doesn’t fit the reality of the care, that’s usually a sign the system wasn’t built for everyone it’s being applied to.

Read that again.

What Comes Next

Now that you understand how EVV is supposed to work…the next question is harder to ignore. What happens when real life doesn’t fit neatly into that system? Because it doesn’t. And when it doesn’t—someone ends up paying for it.

In Part 4, we’re going to talk about what happens when the system misses a step—and how those consequences don’t always land where they should. It’s the kind of thing that will make you stop and think… who’s really carrying the weight?

If this gave you a different perspective, share it. Because a lot of people have opinions about this… and not nearly enough understanding.

Waivers Pt. 2: Parents Being Paid

The Truth About Parents Being Paid 

Before I get into this, I want to be very clear about what I’m referring to. I am talking about parents caring for their adult children with disabilities. In recent years, there have been changes that allowed some parents to be paid for caring for minor children, particularly during COVID. That is a different situation.

I’m not speaking to that.

I’ve never been in that position, so I’m not going to pretend to explain something I haven’t lived. What I am speaking to is the long-standing reality of supporting adults receiving waiver services—and the assumptions people make about that.

The Assumption

A lot of people hear that and immediately think:

“They should be doing that anyway.”
“That’s their child.”
“Why are taxpayers paying for that?”

It sounds simple.

But it’s not.

What Changes at 18

Once an individual turns 18, the system doesn’t operate on the idea of “parent” the way people think. It operates on roles like:

  • Caregiver
  • Legal guardian
  • Responsible party

The focus becomes:

What does the individual need—and how is that support being provided?

What Happens When They Turn 18

This is a part a lot of families aren’t prepared for. When an individual turns 18, the law recognizes them as an adult with their own legal rights. That means, without legal authority in place, a parent may not automatically be able to:

  • Make medical decisions
  • Access medical records
  • Manage finances
  • Sign documents on their behalf
  • Direct their care

Even if they’ve been the one providing care their entire life.

(This is one of the things along our journey that took a long time for me to wrap my head around.  I kept saying, “But she’s my daughter, why do I have to go to court to get rights to make decisions for her?”  It was only after my friend A.J. who’s an attorney explained why, and reframed it as a protection for the individual, not a removal of rights for the parents.  This helped me immensely.  Thank you, A.J.)

So What Does That Mean?

It means families often have to take additional legal steps, such as:

  • Guardianship
  • Conservatorship
  • Power of Attorney (when appropriate)
  • Representative Payee (for Social Security benefits)

Each of these provides a different level of authority depending on the individual’s needs.

Why This Exists

This isn’t meant to make things harder.

It exists to protect the rights of individuals as adults. (Again, thank you, A.J., for helping me understand!)

The law starts from the position that every adult has the right to make their own decisions.

And then, if needed, legal steps are taken to support that.

The Reality for Families

What makes this hard is that nothing else changes overnight.

The needs are still there.
The care is still there.
The responsibility is still there.

You’re still doing all the same things. You just don’t automatically have the legal authority to do them anymore.

So…

The authority has to be established.

This Isn’t Occasional Help

For many individuals receiving services, support isn’t occasional. It’s daily. It can include:

  • Feeding
  • Bathing
  • Medication management
  • Mobility support
  • Behavioral support
  • Constant supervision for safety

And in many cases, it’s ongoing, throughout the day and night.

Let’s Be Honest About the Pay

This is where the biggest misunderstanding happens.

The care being provided is not fully compensated.

Waivers authorize a certain number of hours. But the need for care doesn’t stop when those hours run out. And the pay that is provided is often:

  • Around $13–$15 an hour
  • No benefits
  • No retirement
  • No overtime
  • Often unpredictable schedules
  • Nights, weekends, and holidays included

This is not a job people take for financial gain. It is support for work that already exists.

Another Truth People Don’t Talk About

For many parents, this isn’t about getting paid. It’s about a choice. Because a lot of parents could go out and work a full-time job making:

  • Two, three, even four times the pay
  • With benefits
  • With paid time off
  • With retirement plans

But instead, they choose this.

Not because it’s easier.
Not because it pays well.

But because they know their child.

They know:

  • Their medical needs
  • Their behaviors
  • Their triggers
  • Their routines
  • The little things no one else would catch

And they know they can provide a level of care that doesn’t come from training alone—

It comes from love and lived experience.

Let’s Talk About Who Provides the Care

Waivers are designed to support the individual receiving services. Part of that includes allowing others to provide care—either through an agency or through consumer-directed services (we’ll get into that more in another post). On paper, that sounds like a solution. In real life, it’s complicated.

What Care Actually Looks Like

This is what individuals may need support with:

  • Bathing and personal hygiene
  • Toileting
  • Bowel and bladder care
  • Meal preparation and feeding
  • Medication monitoring or assistance
  • Mobility support (lifting, transferring, preventing falls)
  • Seizure monitoring and response
  • Behavioral support
  • Constant supervision for safety
  • Getting ready in the morning and settled at night

This is hands-on, real, sometimes intense care.

And Who We Expect to Do It

The people providing this care are expected to:

  • Be trustworthy
  • Pass background checks
  • Be dependable
  • Be patient
  • Stay calm in emergencies
  • Show up consistently
  • Be physically strong enough for lifting and transferring and supporting

And they’re expected to do all of that under the conditions listed above.

Now Think About This

With all of that in mind—

How easy do you think it is for an individual to find and keep consistent, quality care?

The Reality

It isn’t easy.

Positions go unfilled.
Care falls through.
Consistency is hard to maintain.

And when that happens—

The individual receiving services is the one who feels it first.

Not Every Situation Looks the Same

There’s another truth that needs to be said. Not every parent is able to provide this level of care. And not every parent should.

Some individuals need:

  • 24/7 structured support
  • Medical oversight
  • A level of care that’s beyond what can be provided at home

And some parents know that. They make the decision that a group home, sponsored residential home, or other supported living environment is the better fit. Not because they don’t care.

But because they do.

This Is What Waivers Make Possible

Before waivers, options were limited. Too often, it meant institutional placement. Now, because of waivers, there are choices:

  • Care at home
  • Care through outside providers
  • Residential settings that are part of the community

That’s the beauty of this system.

It allows care to be tailored to the individual—not forced into one path.

And Let’s Be Clear About This

There is no one “right” way to do this. Some parents provide care themselves.
Some rely on outside caregivers. Some choose residential settings. All of those decisions can come from the same place:

Wanting the best possible life for their child.

Let’s Get Back to the Money Topic

Another thing people don’t see:

The money connected to these services goes right back into the Commonwealth.

It’s used for:

  • Clothing
  • Food
  • Gas
  • Medical needs
  • Community activities
  • Daily living expenses

That means:

  • Local businesses benefit
  • Communities benefit

This isn’t money disappearing.

It’s circulating—while supporting someone’s ability to live in their community.

Final Thought for Part 2

This isn’t about “paying parents.” It’s about making sure individuals receive the support they need.

Because at the end of the day:

It costs less.
It supports real lives.
And it helps ensure individuals are in the safest, most appropriate environment possible.

So often, we—society, lawmakers, professionals—get caught up in logistics and dollar signs. But it all comes back to the individual. The consumer. These are individuals already navigating a world that isn’t built with them in mind.

They are not a line item.
They are not a service recipient.

They are people living real lives—and they deserve the chance to live them fully.

Receiving services is part of it. Living their lives is the point.

What Comes Next

In Parts 3 & 4, I’m going to walk through what this looks like behind the scenes—
the clocking in, the documentation, the deadlines, and the parts most people never see.

I’ll be upfront—Parts 3 & especially 4 are gonna fire me up.

Because there’s a growing gap between the people making decisions… and the people living with them.

And that’s where things start to break down.

I won’t be mincing words.

❤️

If this gave you a different perspective, share it. Because a lot of people have opinions about this… and not nearly enough understanding.

How to Get Started With Waivers/Making Sense of the Jargon

Before we go any deeper into waivers, services, and all the moving parts… I wanted to start here. If you’re new to all of this, here’s the simplest way to start—who to call and what to ask for.

Getting Started with CCC+

If you think you or your loved one may qualify for CCC+ (Commonwealth Coordinated Care Plus), the first step is to contact your local Department of Social Services or your local Community Services Board (CSB) and ask for a screening for long-term services and supports. That starts the process to determine eligibility. From there, a screening team will assess needs and help determine if CCC+ services are appropriate. Here’s a link to The Arc of Virginia —they walk through this clearly and can help you understand what to expect.

Getting Started with a DD Waiver

For a Developmental Disability (DD) Waiver (like FIS, CL, or BI), your starting point is your local Community Services Board (CSB). You’ll request an intake and an assessment for DD waiver eligibility. Once eligibility is established, you’ll be placed on the waiting list if a slot isn’t immediately available. While you’re waiting, CCC+ may help bridge that gap. Here’s the link to The Arc of Virginia—they break this down in plain language and are a solid place to turn when you’re trying to figure out your next step.

Now, Some of the Words, Acronyms, Jargon

This is a downloadable PDF—a non-exhaustive list of common terms and acronyms, with clickable links for deeper explanation. Think of it as a starting point. Something you can keep, reference, and come back to as things start coming at you.

Because if you’ve spent any time in this world, you already know—
people in the field tend to speak in acronyms. Not because they’re trying to confuse you… they’re just used to it. It’s their everyday language.

But for families? It can feel like trying to follow a conversation where every other word is a code you were never given.

And more often than not… we don’t stop to ask what those acronyms mean.

Maybe we don’t want to interrupt.
Maybe we think we should already know.
Maybe we’re just trying to keep up.

But here’s the truth: you are allowed to ask. Every single time.

No one should expect you to navigate your child’s life, your loved one’s care, or your own services in a language that hasn’t been explained to you.

So this list? It’s just the beginning.
A way to put some plain words to things that are often overcomplicated.

We’ll go deeper.
But first—we make it make sense.

 

ACRONYMS & OTHER TERMSDownload