My best friend was diagnosed with a degenerative disease at age 9. By age 15, she used a wheelchair, resulting in muscle loss she wouldn’t recover from. By 18, her family moved west. She stayed in Maine with her boyfriend until caretaking responsibilities deluged him, so west she went. I wanted to blame him for failing her, but I’d soon realize it was much bigger than that.

She did not thrive out West, living more or less like a fixture in her home. We raised money to bring her home. She secured an apartment with elevators and proximity to her doctors, the only option given her needs and resources. It was broken into immediately. Her caretaker was brutally attacked. She, bedridden, lay helpless.

She moved out, sleeping on couches until finding a placement at a nursing home. The residents had dementia. Many died beside her. Staff stole her possessions.

I’d been working and attending college, but – determined to see her succeed – we moved in together. It took months and posed many challenges, but the state arranged caretakers and transportation services for the times when I’d be away. Service providers were often underskilled or underpaid, and many didn’t show up at all. Specifically, Medicaid transporters. She couldn’t get to the doctors, or to the pharmacy for the medications her life depended on, so routine care soon became replaced by midnight 911 calls.

A new, robust transportation infrastructure is critical. L.D. 17 – to provide nonmedical transportation services – must be passed. This bill could save lives.

Meghan Allen
Old Orchard Beach