To whom it may concern,
My name is Dennis G. Magnusen, I used to be a mentor teacher in Hawaiian Gardens, CA. This was a hard place for a kid to grow up, gangs were well established in this area. I taught junior high during the day, home students in the afternoon, and high school "gangsters" in the evening out of a community store front school. I loved my job; I took it very seriously. I became an educator because of my experiences in Vietnam; I did not like what war did to people nor to children, therefore, I taught peaceful resolution to conflicts whenever it seemed necessary. I had to quit teaching in 1990 due to the effects of Agent Orange; I moved to Hawaii.
HERE IS THE PROBLEM: My VA doctor of 18 years (Dr. George W. Ross, Chief of Neurology for the state of Hawaii) finally admitted that he knows nothing about my medical condition. He always told me that "I should not be in so much pain" and that "it is not going to kill me". As it turns out, he could not be more wrong.
In early 2008 I was diagnosed with severe small fiber neuropathy from a biopsy that was sent to Therapath Lab,NY. This is a very painful disease that controls the autonomic nervous system; this has never been addressed by the VA. The only thing the VA has done is to load me up on drugs, that yes I have asked for to help the pain but there is another option. Most doctors are amazed that I can even get out of bed with this many medications. I need treatment (i.e. IVIG), not more meds.
In 2008 Dr. Ross recommended that I see Dr. Mandaville (at Univ. Calif. at San Diego and also with the VA in LaJolla). On January 15, 2008, I was to meet with the VA's neurologist who was going to turn me over to Dr. Mandeville. Instead, the VA's neurologist (Dr. Vivan) said that they were going to "re-test" me. It has been a year since that meeting and nothing has changed, they schedule me 4-6 months after each test to see a neurologist, and then order another test.
I need help. In December of 2009, I had to go to the ER twice. The first time I went to a local hospital, I was convulsing and could not breathe ( I was throwing-up continuously and therefore could not keep my meds down), the pain was severe. The next day it happened again. This time I went to the VA in LaJolla, a 25 mile drive. I had to wait in ER for 5 hours before being seen. Once again in severe pain. I was admitted for 3 days before being stabilized. I can't help but to think this wouldn't happen if I was not on so many meds.
In the VA's Patient Right's, it states: "You will be treated with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual. You will receive care in a safe environment." I've never felt like I was a recipient of this kind of care, it's more like DENY, DELAY and DEATH.
So far I've been diagnosed with peripheral neuropathy, avascular necrosis ( left hip has had a full replacement, the right hip is still deteriorating), cardiomyopathy, COPD, chronic pain, chest pain, PTSD, persistent insomnia, acute sinusitis, acute tonsillitis, malaise and fatigue, cough, pyronies disease, gastrointestinal motility, and small fiber neuropathy, as well as a few others.
I need help. All I want is a doctor who can help me. There are still things in this world that I want to accomplish. I want the VA to treat me with dignity, compassion, and respect as an individual, and give me that care in a safe environment.
Dennis Magnusen
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The image is of my (Kathy Ostman-Magnusen) painting of Dennis.
Artist's Statement:
"Mr. Magnusen", 30x40x2 oil on canvas, by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen
Artist's Statement:
Mr. Magnusen, the subject of my painting, shares many of my same memories. We grew up not far from one another In S. California and later attended the same high school. It was in high school that I fell in love with Dennis G Magnusen. That love story was put on hold for some 30 years.
In 1967 Dennis was drafted by the US Army, and subsequently went to Vietnam in 1968. Circumstances and follies of youth would cause us to follow separate paths.
While in Vietnam Dennis was strongly affected by the children he saw there. "Children were never meant to experience war", he told me years later. He decided that he wanted to do his part to change the world. "Real change in any society begins with the children," was Dennis' mantra, so he became a teacher. He worked with gang zone high school kids in the evenings and intermediate students in the afternoon. Grades of F's and D's were bought up to A's and B's. Mr. Magnusen reached beyond his own expectations, leading kids to an understanding of their own worth, thus opening doors to their potential futures. He created a surf club and got the community to help. He was often featured on local TV and newspapers as someone who was making a difference in children's lives. Dennis also became a Mentor teacher, lending help to other educators. Being somewhat of a rebel he advised fellow teaches of ideas that reached beyond standard textbook techniques.
Sadly the ghost of Vietnam took away Mr. Magnusen's strength in the form of Peripheral Neuropathy, caused by Agent Orange. By 1990 he was too ill to continue his beloved teaching career. It broke his heart. Seeking rest, relief from stress, needing a special place to deal with the physical pain that comes with Small Nerve Fiber Neuropathy, he relocated to Hawaii. Hawaii has been his solace and a cool breeze when memories of who he once was for kids becomes faint.
About three months ago "Mr. Magnusen" was contacted by a former student. Amy had been looking for him for eighteen years. She had heard he had died from Agent Orange complications, but still hoped that she would find him. You see, Amy became a teacher and she wanted to find Mr. Magnusen to tell him how much he had affected her life. While working on her Masters in Literature, Amy wrote a paper describing the most influential person in her life. That person was Mr. Magnusen. Amy called to tell Mr. Magnusen that she wanted to make a difference in this world too. For a teacher there can be no greater reward.
As for me? I found Dennis once again after 30 years, through a miracle of circumstance, but that I guess is another story.
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How can you help Dennis? Speak out for Vietnam Vets. And the next time you pass someone who is homeless and you think they were probably a Vietnam Vet? Give them a dollar or two.
Also SUPPORT THE NEUROPATHY ASSOCIATION:
Peripheral Neuropathy HELP and SUPPORT:
http://www.neuropathy.org
The Neuropathy Association is the leading national non-profit organization serving the peripheral neuropathy community. We provide support and education, advocate for patients’ interests, and promote research into the causes of and cures for neuropathy.
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6 comments:
This is a powerful story. I will see what we can research from our end. I would love to see you write the story of how you two were reunited, Kathy. Thank you for sharing what you're going through. I have PTSD and some health challenges from the car accident that set off the PTSD but nothing like Dennis is going through. Again... thank you so much for being brave enough to get this message out. Others need to hear it, too~
Thank you so much for your dear comment. I will show it to Denny. Take care of yourself Lille, be gentle and do sweet things for your soul. Tenderness is something we need to share with ourselves too I think. Flowers everywhere to remind us how delicate we are and to be sensitive to the miracles at hand... they are EVERYWHERE.
I'm sorry to hear about your state. Thank you for sharing this post about neuropathic pain
I remember Mr. Magnusen well. I attended Killingsworth Jr. High school where it taught. I can still see a tall lanky man, wearing flip-flops walking across the campus. He always had friendly words, followed with an invitation to his Surf Club. In the city I lived in, a kid only has to options. Go with the flow, and join the local gang, or find an avenue out. As a teen, that is a lot of responsibility, thankfully Mr. Magnusen was one of them avenues. I can remember his VW van packed with teens driving down the streets of a dilapidated neighborhood. The same streets most police officers wouldn't go down after the sun set. One by one, he would drop off his students. Making sure they got into their homes safely. I watched from the corner. Usually with a drug deal unfolding in front of me, or my hands on a cop car as they preformed their daily frisk. Wishing I was in that van. Wanting someone to make sure I got into my house safely. I may not have been in his club, but I can honestly say, that he was a positive role model to me.
Thank you for sharing. I hope he has found his help. I was one of his students also. we would give him money and he would buy us some sandwiches from the food truck outside. he is an awesome man. I also became a teacher and I too looked for him many years ago.
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