Listen, there are no words to describe what life is like when you only have a telephone number and you call to say that your husband is not well and needs help, but you are ignored.
There is nothing worse than to call someone and say my husband needs help and not be acknowledged because I'm the spouse.
In Quebec in the past six months, I believe we have more than 12 veterans who committed suicide. The pattern is all the same. They are all men in their forties, fathers of young children, and all abandoned by their wives at some point. Do you know why? The wives are trying. They're trying. When they're military, they go see the padre, they call the chain of command, they go to the MFRC, they go everywhere, they don't have a diagnosis: you're not the serving member, bye-bye.
I'm being told the same thing by Veterans Affairs. My husband saw a psychiatrist from Veterans Affairs for six years and no one ever asked me what was going on in my home. Six years: isn't that enough? I'm nothing—nothing. Don't talk about service delivery to me. I have no service to me, it's all through my husband—case managers, Veterans Affairs: my wife needs to see a psychologist, so the wife goes to see the doctor to have a prescription, the husband gives it, and then we wait. We wait and we wait: “You have 25 sessions, Mrs. Migneault”, and then bye-bye; 15 years with PTSD.