Vietnam Veteran’s journey with Parkinson’s Disease

My Parkinson’s story begins in the Mekong Delta in 1969-1970. That was the year I served with the 162nd Assault Helicopter Company. I flew as a door gunner on combat missions. I did things I am not proud of, and I saw things that no 18-year old should ever have to see.  

I also remember the days the flight crews would spray Agent Orange around the base in specially modified helicopters to clear the perimeter’s defensive zone of the foliage that would sprout up. I recall breathing in deeply of the vapers that would waft over our tent city. “Hell, this doesn’t smell so bad,” I remember thinking.

The worst horrors I would witness in Vietnam would come 20 years later when I returned to the Socialist Republic of Vietnam on a USAID mission. The mission’s purpose was to assess the effects Agent Orange had upon the next generation of children after the war. It was this generation that endured the worst of the consequences of a decade of widespread use of the toxic defoliant. 

The United States sprayed 19.5 million gallons of Agent Orange over the course of the Vietnam War. The goal was to deny Vietcong fighters and North Vietnamese troops forest cover and food supplies. The Vietnam Red Cross estimates that three million Vietnamese people have been affected by dioxin, including at least 150,000 children born after the war with serious birth defects. Hundreds of thousands of U.S. soldiers were also exposed. 

25-year career in humanitarian sector

Our small assessment team crisscrossed the country still in the early stages of rebuilding infrastructure after the war years. We were taken to scores of specially adapted homes for children, many of whom had unspeakable deformities. Despite the enormity of the situation, the authorities managed the homes in a clean and dignified manner. Since that trip in 1991, more than $125 million in assistance has been provided to persons with disabilities in Vietnam.

During the next 25 years, I would continue my career in the humanitarian sector, specializing in cross-cultural leadership and disaster response. My wife and I had the privilege of serving those in needy situations in Asia, Africa and the Middle East. I traveled to more than 80 countries and we set up households in 12 during those years. 

As my career began to wind down, I started to look for short-term assignments. It had long been my dream to continue my career well into my seventies. But life got in the way when I was engaged in a five-month stint in Liberia. I was providing interim leadership to a Dutch NGO during the final stages of a nationwide outbreak of Ebola.

I was walking down the street when I had an odd sensation that I was 10-feet tall and my gait was changing. I also noticed a bizarre tremor in my right index finger, and then one day when I was visiting a village where we had constructed some clean water wells, my voice completely failed me.  

“Diagnosis hit me philosophically more than emotionally.”

Returning home to the USA, I went through six months of uncertainty, seeing first my GP then a neurologist and then a battery of tests that included an MRI, a DAT scan and an EEG. They confirmed what I had suspected long before. I had Parkinson’s Disease.

At the time of my diagnosis, I was serving as a resident chaplain at Hoag Presbyterian Memorial Hospital in Newport Beach, CA. The diagnosis hit me philosophically more than it did emotionally. “Was this a karmic payback for the sins of my youth while I was in Vietnam? Did I deserve this?” I wondered. Whatever the cause of my affliction, one thing was certai … that which I once saw as abstract, I now had in my body.

One of the first things I did after my diagnosis was to visit VA. I had read that VA added Parkinsonism to the list of conditions presumed to be associated with exposure to Agent Orange and had expanded benefits for Veterans who had served in Vietnam. VA played a crucial role in supporting and providing resources for Veterans like me facing Parkinson’s disease.

Chaplains have a kind of maxim that is repeated in training and in practice: “You will face your fears in the rounds.” It was in the rounds that I learned to face the fear of what a future with Parkinson’s might hold for me. It was almost shocking to see the number of people who were diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease in the wards. Prior to each patient’s visit, I read their chart to prepare for the visit. Some of the patients were very upbeat and kept a positive outlook despite the diagnosis. While for others, it appeared that they were completely overcome by the disease. 

Thankful for family and care-giving wife

Without judgment, I entered the rooms with a kind of awe. On the one hand, I went in to minister peace. On the other hand, I was a kind of voyeur seeking a glimpse into my own future.

Now six years after my diagnosis I am still vertical, and that is something to be thankful for. Other things I am grateful for are my family and for a care-giving wife who has stood beside me in the PD journey.

I am also very grateful to the dedicated men and women of VA, especially for those who serve at Loma Linda VA and the medical teams from the West LA VA and Ventura VA Ambulatory Care Center. Without the kind of personalized care provided by VA, I would not likely be alive today.