‘I hate to call it a job’: Auto insurance cost controls may upend in-home care for injured motorists

Above James’ bed in his customized house in Newport, there are photos on the wall from what ultimately were some of the best days of his life: playing right guard and on the defensive line for the Monroe High School football team.

Standing 5-foot, 8-inches tall and weighing 190 pounds, James’ teammates called him “Mighty G,” short for Mighty Goins. Mighty G is now the custom license plate letters on his transport van.

“He was wicked,” his mother recalled. “He could take down the biggest thing you’d see.”

James Goins had just graduated high school in 2007 when he was in a car accident that scalped and shattered the left side of his skull, causing brain matter to seep out of his head — irreparable damage to his ability to walk, talk, eat and do all of the daily functions we take for granted. He was never expected to recover beyond a vegetative state, his mother said.

“Within 36 hours (of the accident) they wanted me to take him off of life support,” Marshala Goins said. “But I refused because of him being such a strong individual.”

Today, James can slightly raise his left hand and use it to point, he’s cognitive of sights and sounds and spends most of his days watching TV in his wheelchair. When he’s upset, he blows air from his mouth or rolls his eyes, his mother said.

His direct communication is limited to giving long blinks for answering “yes” to questions and double blinks for “no,” Marshala Goins said.

James also makes facial grimaces — a sign that he’s either feeling ill or may be about to have a seizure. The traumatic brain injury James sustained impaired his ability to regulate his body temperature and urinate regularly, leaving him susceptible to frequent fevers and infections, his mother said.

“It’s a 24-hour watch with my son,” said Marshala Goins, who worked in nursing homes and home health care before her son’s accident. “… And we just revolve our whole life around him.”

Marshala said she hasn’t told her son yet that his family may not be able to always care for him. She vows she’ll not let him be sent off to a nursing home, which typically aren’t equipped with ceiling dollies and extra wide roll-in showers and toilets like James’ home.

“I’ll live in a cardboard box before he goes anyplace — I’ll sell everything … before he has to do what a lot of people think is going to happen,” Marshala said.

She was in tears during a recent video conference interview on Zoom, overwhelmed by the sheer uncertainty that now engulfs her family.

“This stuff that, excuse me,” the mother said as she wiped away tears, “that’s gonna happen is gonna uproot not just him but several individuals that are in the same state as my son.”

“Why take away something that was promised?”

It’s a question everyone should be asking their elected representatives and senators in Lansing.

Contact: [email protected];

(313) 446-1654; @ChadLivengood