Her husband died. Her fight for his Medicaid coverage continued

It’s a February afternoon, and 73-year-old Barbara Andrews is resting her head on her desk, exhausted. Nearby, a robotic voicemail drones on from her landline phone with a reminder for her husband, Mel. He died two months ago, but Andrews is still working through a maze of red tape to get his Medicaid application for long-term care approved.

All that maze-running has finally caught up to Andrews. Years of economic stress, coupled with the grief of her husband’s illness and death, have exacerbated her health issues and hurt her mental wellbeing.

The man she married was a “quiet, gentle soul” who loved literature and carried a deep passion for music. He sang in the Cheshiremen Chorus and the Junction 135 quartet. By the time Mel died on Christmas in 2025 at the age of 76, Parkinson’s disease had left him unable to feed himself or move without assistance.

In the years preceding Mel’s death, Andrews, like many other seniors in need, turned to the United States’ elder care system. A mix of federal and state programs for vulnerable older adults makes up this administrative framework. Andrews has received assistance from Medicare, Social Security, and the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) both before and after Mel’s diagnosis. She tried to get Mel onto Medicaid, which covers a majority of nursing home stays in the United States and New Hampshire, but the application dragged on for years. Mel ultimately had to go into a nursing home for several months without insurance. After his death, Andrews moved into Section 8 housing.

The federal government implemented these programs in the 20th century to support millions of people living with illnesses or in poverty. But for many seniors, including Andrews, trying to access these systems and managing eligibility can become a major source of frustration and pain instead.

The largest obstacle Andrews faced was applying for Medicaid for Mel’s stay at the Maplewood Nursing Home in Westmoreland. The N.H. Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) found Mel’s application ineligible twice over a nearly three-year period, Andrews said. During this time his dementia progressed rapidly. Andrews said trying to care for him at home and later pay for his nursing home stay, left her in a state of fear, anger and exhaustion.

“Those are feelings I never felt before: feeling that things were not in my control,” she said.

Waiting on Medicaid, footing the bill

For nearly a quarter century, Andrews and Mel built their life together. They shared a love for community theater and performing arts. A friend called them the “Song and Dance Team.” With Mel’s ardor for music and Andrews’ passion for dance, the nickname was so apt that the couple engraved “Song” and “Dance” inside their respective wedding bands.

It was 2021 when Mel was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease and Lewy body dementia, two progressive neurological disorders that impair cognitive ability. Medicare, the public health insurance program for people 65 and up, covered his diagnosis and doctors appointments.

Mel’s memory worsened, and he struggled to hold conversations with friends and family members. At the same time, he experienced speech and swallowing issues, problems with gait, as well as muscle stiffness and paranoia. His mobility deteriorated to the point where he had to walk on his hands and feet up the stairs to the couple’s third-floor Keene apartment.

As the severity of Mel’s diseases progressed, the couple’s home became less practical for him to live in. He fell numerous times: during choir rehearsal, standing up out of a chair, walking to the car, getting out of the bathtub.

Andrews knew Mel needed to be in a nursing home. But Medicare only covers nursing home stays for a maximum of 100 days in the event of a severe injury. To get Mel long-term care, Andrews had to apply for Medicaid, the federal-state health insurance program for people who are disabled or in poverty. She hoped to get her husband enrolled and into the county-owned nursing home, where 80 percent of patients were on Medicaid as of December 2025.

Unlike Medicare, which has a faster enrollment process and deducts premiums through Social Security payments, Medicaid requires a complex application that asks applicants to provide five years of financial transaction information.

When Andrews first applied for Mel to be on Medicaid in early 2023, “it took so long, so long to get anyone to talk with us,” she said.

She tried not to lose her sense of humor, but found it difficult to be both Mel’s nurse and his wife. His needs eventually surpassed her caregiving abilities; he was too tall and heavy for Andrews to assist on her own.

“You’re never quite prepared for this part of life,” Andrews said. “It’s not ‘The Golden Years.’ Baloney.”

To move her application forward, she enlisted the help of a local social service agency, who she said went so far as to contact the office of then-Gov. Chris Sununu. She anticipated this would speed up the process. But once DHHS finally looked at the application, Andrews said they rejected it on the grounds that Mel had too much money. As The Sentinel reported in December, this is common among people whose wealth is slightly above Medicaid’s limits but cannot afford to pay out of pocket for nursing home care.

Federal law requires states to make decisions on these Medicaid applications within 90 days. Eldercare Resource Planning, a national Medicaid planning service, reported in 2025 that receiving approval for Medicaid to cover nursing home stays took an average of 79 days. But the whole process of applying can take much longer, since each time an application is rejected it restarts the 90 day clock. Andrews applied three times and waited for nearly three years.

Mel’s application was part of a major backlog at DHHS. The Sentinel’s previous reporting found that DHHS has been severely short-staffed of Medicaid eligibility determination workers for years. This dearth of resources created an application bottleneck in the DHHS office, leaving vulnerable seniors throughout the state in crisis and causing major losses for nursing homes.

Citing patient confidentiality, DHHS Deputy Communications Director Kathleen Remillard declined to comment on the specifics of Andrews’ story. Remillard said via email, however, that the Medicaid backlog has decreased by 20 percent since January. She attributed this to streamlining within the agency and the January hiring of an outside contractor to process applications.

“Determining eligibility for long-term care Medicaid can be complex, as it requires both medical and financial review,” Remillard wrote.

While the state backlog is improving, the Medicaid system as a whole will soon have fewer resources and more requirements after President Donald Trump signed into law the largest ever cut to Medicaid in July 2025.

For Andrews, the application’s strict bureaucracy felt tone-deaf as she struggled to care for Mel.

“They have to realize it’s a human story,” she said. “They’re talking to real people that are in pain, that are in distress.”

Small details complicated the process. For example, Andrews said DHHS wanted her to provide the most recent records for a stock ownership plan Mel had gotten through his work. But, she said, the company’s record-keeping schedule didn’t align with the timeline DHHS was looking for.

“That was like, ‘What the hell?’” Andrews said. “What else do you want from me? Blood? I’ve given you everything.”

Andrews was simultaneously trying to be a bookkeeper, advocate and full-time caregiver. “I never gave up, but also it made me depressed,” she said of working on Mel’s application. “It was affecting my health; that’s the worst part.”

At night, she would struggle to fall asleep and often felt like “a dead weight in the bed.” She suffered from digestive issues and shoulder, neck and back pain. “I was engulfed in the grief and in the worry of money,” Andrews said.

Household chores like vacuuming fell by the wayside. Dust accumulated on Mel’s bookshelves as he read less and less.

“I took care of him 24/7,” Andrews said. “And any other part but to take care of him just went out the window.”

In May 2025, while still waiting on the application approval, she managed to get Mel into adult daycare at Maplewood with financial help from Gateways Community Services, a disability services organization in Nashua. In September, Mel received two weeks of respite care that his sister paid for. After that, he was in Maplewood full time, with his family paying out of pocket while the Medicaid application stalled.

Mel died in December 2025 with his application still pending.

Living in limbo

During the years when Mel’s Medicaid application was going back and forth between Keene and Concord, Andrews was running short on cash.

To make ends meet, Mel held his sales position at a company in Hinsdale for as long as he could, even after his diagnoses. But as his conditions progressed, he could no longer work.

Although Medicare covered Mel’s doctors appointments, it still left Andrews with out-of-pocket payments, including a $75 payment for a monthly prescription for Mel’s blood pressure drug; Andrews had to pay using a credit card.

“The money is the hardest thing,” Andrews said. “When you don’t have it, it makes you feel so small. When you’re older, it should be a little easier, and it’s not.”

To help pay for groceries, she applied for food assistance through SNAP, the nutrition program housed in the U.S. Department of Agriculture that helps feed more than 40 million people in America who are at risk of hunger. In 2022, 78 percent of people who were eligible for SNAP were also eligible for Medicaid, according to the health policy nonprofit KFF.

SNAP’s application process is less exhaustive than Medicaid, and the couple was soon eligible. Once Andrews got enrolled, it was “a godsend to us, just for the good, healthy, basic foods,” she said.

Still, everyday expenses added up quickly, despite Andrews’ careful budgeting. Like most older Americans, Andrews gets a monthly Social Security check. And although Social Security payments are adjusted for inflation, Medicare premiums ate into her payments.

To keep going, she had to put more costs on credit cards, one of which carried a high interest rate.

“It was devastating to see,” said David Andrews, Mel’s half-brother, of how DHHS’ delays impacted Barbara. He helped her pay for Mel’s stay at Maplewood while the application was pending.

Watching from out of state as Mel’s condition deteriorated, David, who lives in Wilmington, Del., said he didn’t hesitate to do what he could when Andrews needed help paying for Mel’s care.

Andrews said it was hard for her to ask for money, and she waited until absolutely necessary.

In November 2025, about a month before Mel’s death, SNAP benefits lapsed for several weeks amid the longest federal government shutdown in history. Around 42 million Americans, including Andrews, temporarily lost food assistance. Although she managed to not go hungry, uncertainty about her ability to get food added to what was already a distressing moment in Andrews’ life.

“The poor and the middle class are at the mercy of the wealthy,” she said of the SNAP lapse. “That doesn’t mean you’re any less intelligent or any less deserving. … I was angry, sad and very scared.”

Coming home

Following Mel’s death, Andrews had little time to grieve and was worried about how she was going to afford life on her own. She still had to make sure DHHS would determine her husband to be eligible for Medicaid so that she could recover some of the money that had been spent to keep him at Maplewood.

Andrews made several visits to the local DHHS office to ensure it had all the paperwork needed to approve Mel’s application.

The couple’s Keene apartment was no longer sensible for her to stay in alone. Andrews’ rent for the two-bedroom unit had risen dramatically in the past five years. Used to a $10-15 annual increase in monthly rent, she now faced a $100 increase to stay on.

She applied for a Housing and Urban Development-subsidized Section 8 apartment in a complex for seniors in North Swanzey. By then, Andrews was used to bureaucracy, and she expected her housing application to involve months of back-and-forth and few answers.

To her surprise, it was approved a month later. “I couldn’t believe that something good was going to happen to me,” she remembered.

But in order to move, Andrews first had to pack up nearly two decades of her and Mel’s life: photographs and furniture, artwork and accessories from Lions Club plays, flannels and financial documents.

She sorted through shelves of Mel’s books and his alphabetized record collection, recalling stories about his favorite authors, artists and the concerts he had seen. Mel thought of Bob Dylan as a poet, she said, so to get rid of a Dylan book would be a sin.

A steady rotation of friends kept Andrews company and helped her pack. She sometimes found herself crying unexpectedly while boxing up objects from her and Mel’s life together, like the “Just Married” sign from their wedding or a photograph of Mel from his final Thanksgiving.

In only a few weeks, Andrews had to downsize her entire life while overcoming the mountain of remaining paperwork related to Mel and her move.

”It’s like coming out from under a rock,” she said.

At last, on an otherwise-ordinary February morning, Andrews received notice that Mel’s Medicaid application had been approved. Maplewood would be paid by Medicaid for his stay, and could pay back reimbursable out-of-pocket costs to Andrews’ family.

“Shit, there really is a God,” Andrews said. “Holy crap.”

Mel had died two months earlier, but only now could Andrews truly think about living again. She was ready to be in her new place, but the move had taken a physical and an emotional toll.

She arrived at her new apartment for the first time with a rug under one arm and a friend at her side. By the time they left, Andrews had already stuck a half dozen Post-its to her walls noting where various pieces of furniture could go.

Still, during her last night in her old apartment, Andrews couldn’t sleep. Her feet and back ached from carrying trash and heavy boxes up and down the stairs. Cleaning chemicals and cold air had dried out her hands.

“This is the hard part, like pit-of-your-stomach hard part,” she said. “No more life here. Someone else will have that.”

On March 1, tears trickled down Andrews’ face as she closed her door to Apartment 12 for the last time. As she got into her car to drive to her new home, her eyes were dry once more.

“The one thing you realize is your husband is with you,” Andrews said. “Your spouse is with you.”

Finding closure

Resolution from DHHS was less satisfying.

In March, a letter from the department arrived. It was addressed to Mel’s estate notifying Andrews that DHHS was made aware of Mel’s death and closed out his Medicaid benefits.

“I was sorry to hear of the death of Melville Andrews on 12/25/2025, and would like to offer condolences on behalf of the Department of Health and Human Services,” the letter read. But when Andrews looked closer, she noticed a small detail at the bottom of the letter: it had been left unsigned.

“It was short, to the point, but not human,” she said.

Remillard, the DHHS spokesperson, said the agency regrets that a “system-generated letter of this nature was received.” She said the agency is reviewing its system for sending notices. She did not immediately respond to an email seeking clarity about what “system-generated” means.

With boxes still to unpack, Andrews’ focus shifted to Mel’s celebration of life service. After incurring so many costs while waiting on DHHS approval, she turned to GoFundMe and sold her husband’s record collection to help pay for his funeral expenses. But she couldn’t part ways with his recording of the legendary 1969 Woodstock music festival, which Mel attended.

On the Saturday after Easter, more than 120 people filled the pews of St. James Episcopal Church to celebrate Mel’s life. Andrews said she felt overwhelmed by the outpouring of love her community showed her and Mel.

As a portion of the 2024 Keene Lions Club Rent cast performed “Seasons of Love,” Andrews sang, clapped and swayed along. From showtunes to Bob Dylan, “Mel picked out the service he wanted,” she said.

Her hurt is still fresh. She’s now beginning to pay off her credit cards and recover from the economic stress that surrounded Mel’s illness. But for the first time in a long time, Andrews is allowing herself to be excited for the future. She’s thinking about the next Lions Club show and where she wants to hang photos on her walls.

The grief stays with her. She thinks it always will. But, she said, “it’s the price you pay when you love somebody.”

Cover image: Barbara Andrews carries bags in from her car on Feb. 19 at her apartment in Keene. “It was a weird kind of nightmare,” Andrews said of navigating Medicaid while her husband, Mel, slowly died of Parkinson’s disease and Lewy body dementia.

© 2026 The Keene Sentinel (Keene, N.H.). Visit www.sentinelsource.com. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency, LLC.