Mickey Rottinghaus: A Story of Safety Nets and Second Chances

Mickey Rottinghaus spends much of her time in Waterloo, Iowa, where she’s helping care for her adult son, Tucker, who is currently on bed rest. Her days are filled with love, devotion, and constant vigilance—but also deep concern. Medicaid isn’t just a policy issue for Mickey; it’s a lifeline. 

“When it comes to Medicaid,” she says, “we must ask ourselves: who decides which lives matter most?” For Mickey, the answer is clear. “Our American government made a promise that every life is worthy of protection and care. Medicaid was created as a safety net for our most vulnerable. That principle should still guide us.” 

Mickey has spent more than two decades fighting for policies that empower people with disabilities to live independently, work, and fully participate in their communities. Her fight is not abstract—it’s rooted in lived experience, both past and present. 

In 1974, while working at a residential facility in Northeast Iowa, Mickey met Don and Daryl, two young brothers who had become wards of the state. At ages seven and five, they were developmentally delayed and had been severely neglected. 

“Their mother wasn’t equipped to care for them,” Mickey recalls. “Her own safety net was limited.” The boys had been kept in an upstairs bedroom, fed only baby food from bowls, never taught to use utensils or toilet trained. They functioned at the level of infants between six to nine months old. 

And yet, she vividly remembers their joy. “They couldn’t speak, but their smiles and giggles were unforgettable. Their delight in simply being around people still brings me joy all these years later. They were, in every way, delightful individuals.” 

These memories still drive her today. “Stories like Don and Daryl’s are playing out across this country every single day,” she says. “The care they received through Medicaid gave them a chance—not a perfect one, but one rooted in dignity and compassion.” 

Now, Mickey sees that same fight in her own home. 

Tucker grew up working on family farms, surrounded by a large, supportive extended family. He was just beginning his adult life, with plans to attend college, when tragedy struck. At age eighteen, a friend accidentally shot him while handling a .22 handgun, leaving Tucker with a spinal cord injury that resulted in C-4/5 incomplete quadriplegia. 

Just as most young adults begin to find independence, Tucker was suddenly dependent on others for nearly every aspect of daily life. He cannot get in or out of his wheelchair by himself. Even as a fairly independent quadriplegic, Tucker requires a team of home health care staff to help with essential tasks: getting in and out of bed, toileting, showering, dressing, preparing meals, and even eating. 

But none of that stopped him from chasing his goals. 

With no use of his legs or hands, and limited use of his arms, Tucker enrolled at the University of Iowa. He earned a BA in Psychology and began graduate studies in the School of Social Work, driven by a desire to support at-risk youth—people whose lives, like his, hang in the balance of policy decisions made in distant rooms. 

For Mickey, watching her son work tirelessly toward his dreams despite overwhelming obstacles is both heartbreaking and inspiring. And it makes the stakes of today’s debates over Medicaid all the more urgent. 

“We must not forget why these safety nets exist,” Mickey says. “They are not just about numbers or budgets—they are about people. Real people, like Don and Daryl. Like my son. Like your neighbors.” 

Her message is as much a call to action as it is a reminder: “Our dedication to the most vulnerable should never be up for debate. It should be our guiding light.”