October 30, 2025 – Minooka, Illinois
When Screens Go Silent
When federal funding for Medicare telehealth froze at the start of October, millions of seniors suddenly found their lifeline to doctors and therapists cut off. But in homes, clinics, and small towns across the country, people are refusing to let that silence define them.
For Bill and Martha Swick, of Minooka, Illinois, telehealth had been a blessing. Bill, 53, lives with a rare degenerative brain disease that makes it difficult to move and speak. Virtual therapy meant he could connect with a speech specialist from home instead of traveling hours to downtown Chicago.
Then came the government shutdown — and the sessions stopped.
“It’s frustrating,” Martha said. “You plan everything to make life smoother, and then everything just … pauses.”
Yet the Swicks’ story hasn’t become one of defeat. Their neighbors have stepped in to help. Friends from church visit twice a week to read with Bill and practice speech pacing exercises. A local college student studying occupational therapy offered to help him keep up with memory drills free of charge. Even their town library opened a quiet room for families who need space for at-home therapy practice.
Across the nation, stories like theirs are emerging.
In Oregon, Dr. Faraz Ghoddusi began holding unpaid phone consultations with his most vulnerable Medicare patients, determined to prevent emergency visits. “You don’t stop caring just because the system pauses,” he said.
In Texas, speech pathologist Genevieve Richardson organized a network of practitioners to share patient resources across state lines, ensuring that seniors like the Swicks can continue practicing vital exercises even without formal appointments.
And in Maryland, a team from Johns Hopkins Medicine created a volunteer “call-check” system where medical students regularly phone elderly patients who have lost telehealth access — just to listen, track symptoms, and remind them they’re not alone.
These acts of care reflect what telehealth itself was meant to represent: connection.
Before the pandemic, only rural patients could access Medicare-covered virtual visits. The 2020 emergency expansion changed that, bringing therapists, doctors, and caregivers into living rooms across America. For many families — caregivers balancing jobs, seniors without transportation, or those living with chronic illness — it wasn’t just about convenience. It was independence.
Now, with the government shutdown in its fifth week and Congress deadlocked, providers are deciding whether to risk offering care without reimbursement. Some have paused services entirely, while others, like Martha Swick, are getting creative.
“I’m doing what I can,” she said. “We do word cards at breakfast. We sing along with old songs to keep his rhythm. It’s not the same as therapy, but it’s something. And people keep showing up to help us.”
Experts warn that a prolonged break in continuity of care could slow recovery for patients with degenerative diseases. But they also note an unexpected bright side: a surge in community-based caregiving and grassroots innovation. Families are sharing therapy tips online, churches are lending meeting rooms for practice sessions, and volunteers are teaching seniors how to use free video platforms while federal programs are paused.
“This has shown me how much people care,” Martha Swick said. “We can’t control Washington. But we can still help each other right here.”
Kindicity Reflection
Even when systems stall, kindness doesn’t. The shutdown may have silenced some screens, but it has also amplified compassion — neighbors teaching, doctors volunteering, and families refusing to give up.
If you know someone missing medical appointments because of the shutdown, check in. Offer a ride, share information about free community health centers, or simply lend an ear. Every small act helps bridge the gap until care resumes — and keeps hope connected.