When the Operator Becomes the Patient
I’ve spent most of my adult life in environments where we train hard and rarely pause. So when my knee loudly popped during an early morning jiu-jitsu session but didn’t cause any pain, I did what many of us do: kept training, hit the ice bath, stretched it out, walked it off. Figured it was just an old knee talking back.
A few hours and one power-nap later, I stood up—and my knee said nope. Locked solid. Couldn’t walk.
After years of watching teammates get hooked on NSAIDs and limp through post-op recoveries, I’ve developed a healthy distrust of the medical system. I usually rely on diet, movement, and grit to stay one step ahead of injury. But this time, I had to face it head-on.
For the first time since leaving active duty, I suddenly had to navigate the VA and TRICARE systems—not for a teammate, not as a nonprofit lead, but as the actual patient.
What followed was a comedy of bureaucratic brilliance:
VA imaging? Sure—in August.
First appointment with my PCM? Even later.
But hey—I did walk out with a free pair of crutches in case it happens again and a photo op for my shiny new VA health card (not to be confused with my retired ID, of course 🙄).
Turns out I should’ve turned to TRICARE for an acute injury like this
You can have access to benefits and still be completely unprepared to use them. Here’s what I learned:
There are systems in place—but they don’t initiate themselves.
You need to know the difference between VA care, TRICARE care, and when to pivot between them.
Most of us figure this out the hard way—while limping.
(I did eventually get me knee to unlock thanks to a tip from a local black belt)
To those just transitioning out of the military: don’t wait until your knee locks up to start learning how your benefits work. And to those who’ve already figured it out—I salute you. Drop a breadcrumb trail for the rest of us.
I’m looking forward to getting back on the mat. But in the meantime, I’ll be crutching my way through healthcare acronyms and humble pie.
