Before I ever really had a clue what a PAS-Hab assessment was or how greatly it would impact our lives, I sat around the kitchen table with a team of people who were there to create a care plan for Josiah.
Once a year we meet to ensure he has the supports he needs to live his best life.
The PAS-Hab (Personal Assistance Services/Habilitation) assessment is a detailed 33-page document that guides these meetings. It outlines Josiah’s needs and helps determine the level of support approved for him in our home.
Early on, when life was overwhelming and we were exhausted, I requested extra hours so we could have caregiver coverage on the weekends. Josiah’s case manager at the time informed me that he was my child and therefore my responsibility. Weekend caregiving hours, she explained, would never be approved. Rick and I, she reminded me, were considered Josiah’s “unpaid natural supports”—a term I had never heard before and didn’t yet understand.
Never mind that we were both severely sleep deprived since Josiah rarely slept or that we had other children in our home who needed our time and attention too. That was not their problem. Rick and I would just have to figure it out.
As a teacher who regularly participated in ARD meetings for students with additional support needs, I was familiar with the process of carefully reviewing goals, discussing concerns, and coming to agreement as a team before signing a final document.
It seems only fitting then that I would bring that same level of understanding and expertise to the annual meeting for my own son each year. Sadly, I did not.
The significance of these yearly meetings was truly lost on me. I naively assumed everyone, including the powers that be at the state level, had Josiah’s best interest at heart and would approve the support services we all agreed would be best.
Looking back, I’m shocked at how naive, unaware, and unprepared I was for those meetings. I’d sit smiling, listening, and nodding, allowing people who didn’t really know Josiah or his challenges to drive the ship.
That is, until the weekend caregiver roadblock appeared.
I kept getting pushback from the local governing authority responsible for sending the 33-page PAS-Hab document to the state for approval. More than once I was told the state would never approve my request.
They said it had never been done.
They said no one receives weekend hours.
They said they wouldn’t send it in.
That’s when something inside me shifted.
If Josiah’s life was going to be the best it could be, I would have to become his strongest advocate.
I put my foot down and insisted that extra hours be included in the PAS-Hab assessment to cover weekend care.
After a few heated discussions, the document was finally submitted with my request included. Unbeknownst to me, however, a handwritten note was attached stating, “Mrs. Deppisch refused to sign unless the extra hours are approved.”
What a joke. If only I had that kind of power.
I never refused to sign. I only insisted the document be submitted to the state so the final decision could be made there. I simply wanted the request to be considered by the people who actually had the authority to approve it.
When the approved hours came back far below what Josiah actually needed, I was stunned. The decision didn’t reflect the reality of our lives or the level of support he required each day.
Inside the packet was a document explaining our Right to a Fair Hearing. At the time, I still had no idea what “unpaid natural supports” meant or how it had affected Josiah’s approved hours. I only knew he needed far more help than what had been granted.
So I requested a Fair Hearing to better understand his rights and how the decision had been made. I contacted Disability Rights Texas and was connected with an incredible attorney who helped me begin uncovering what had actually happened. With her guidance, we moved forward with the Fair Hearing so the decision could be reviewed properly.
After extensive review, the Hearing Officer made the final decision that the local authority was in violation of federal law. Parents are not required to serve as “unpaid natural supports” in place of needed services for their children.
Josiah’s hours were increased considerably. He received the additional support he truly needed, including weekend caregiver coverage. Thank you Jesus!
Here’s what I learned:
Loving our children does not mean accepting less than what the law provides. It does not mean quietly filling every gap ourselves. And it does not mean assuming the first answer we are given is the final one.
No one knows your child like you do.
If something does not feel right, ask questions. You have that right. And sometimes, simply understanding that you have a voice can completely change the outcome.
You are not meant to carry the weight of your child’s support alone. The system exists to provide services, not to shift that responsibility back onto families.
The same kitchen table where I once sat naïve and unprepared is now where I sit informed and confident. The same PAS-Hab assessment that once intimidated me is now a document I understand deeply.
The difference is not the system. The difference is education.
I devoted hours to studying, writing, and advocating so that Josiah’s life would be accurately reflected on paper — because if we do not tell our child’s story clearly, someone else will guess at it.
And guessing rarely leads to enough support. That is why parents must learn everything they can. Not because we want to.
But because our children deserve nothing less.