Operation Dental Drop – Day 3

Well, it appears we’ve forgotten about the no eating in the morning thing because someone I know and love is sitting on the bed begging for chicken.

I lie to him of course, and assure him that he will be able to eat very soon. Poor thing has no clue.

He’s pulled his Dad down onto the bed and has him in a choke hold, giving him a big hug.

He says, “Daddy Brad, you’re my friend.”

Brad is struggling to breathe and I’m telling him to let go of his Dad but he’s got a death grip.

“Let go of Dad, son.” It is not a request. He lets go and Brad stands up and sort of sways back and forth like he’s been wrung out to dry.

“Well that was fun,” Brad says.

“I suggest you wave at him from across the room,” I say, and then WHOP! A pillow; right up side the head.

It appears my son has just challenged me to a pillow fight. If we were at home there would be no mercy because I’d pick the pillow up and clobber him, and we’d go at it until the feathers fly, but since we’re in a “tell room” and I do not wish to disturb the people in the rooms around us, I do not respond.

Whop! Another pillow.

“Ignoring you,” I say and he says, “Come on Sherry!” So I disappear into the shower out of range. It seems as good a time as any to get dressed for the day.

I stay in the bathroom long enough to fog up the mirror and when I come out he’s laying on the bed watching The Parent Trap on his portable DVD player that several people in the church gave him last year for his birthday. He takes it everywhere along with an old ice cream container with a blue handle that holds most of his DVDs. They are out of the original packages, of course, how else would they make good Frisbees?

He’s watching the dance scene where Haley Mills takes the scissors and cuts the back out her sister’s dress and then only her panties are showing.

He calls me over to the bed. “Mom, watch!” he says, and then the 2 girls get into a knock down drag out fight and are pulling each others hair and the punch bowl slides down the table and splashes all over the Boy Scout leader and the fruit flies everywhere, and the cake lands in a lady’s face. Charley is rolling around on the bed kicking his feet in the air and laughing his head off. I think about this for a moment and come to the conclusion that the world would be better off if we would all just get over ourselves, and roll around on a bed kicking our feet in the air.

He’s laughing out loud now, and I tell him to hush, but I have to admit it’s pretty funny and it beats hearing him beg for food.

He turns down the volume on the DVD player; now if only Charley Palmer came with volume control.

It’s 6:45 a.m. and luckily it’s time to leave for the hospital. Brad and I decide it’s time to slip out the back door so he won’t have to pass by the continental breakfast in the lobby, and since we are not allowing ourselves a cup of coffee in front of him it seems the best thing for us as well.

I go to the lobby and ask the desk clerk if he will deprogram the room key because Charley wants one of his own and he’s so nice; he just goes and gets him a new one. This is a big deal for Charley who feels like pretty big stuff getting is own room key.

I say, “Son, now you have a key you can use on your room at home.”

He’s no dummy. He knows that’s not going to work, and says, “Stop it Mom.”

Still, he’s in the back seat turning the credit card-like key around and around in his hand.

“Where goin’ Mom?”

“We’re going to the Dentist so he can fix your teeth.”

It’s pretty quiet in the back seat. I think he’s trying to figure it all out but bless his heart he has no clue.

God be with us.

Out of the car now and on our way down the hall to the waiting room. Charley says “Hi!” and has slapped a high 5 to at least 10 people along the way. Doctors, nurses, anyone. Some seem amused and happy to say hi to him, while others appear to be sleepwalking with hot coffee in their hand. Sure hope the caffeine kicks in before they perform his surgery.

Cameron is already waiting for us when we arrive. It’s over an hour drive to the hospital from Coker Creek where he runs the Coker Creek Village Camp and Conference Center. Cam is like a big brother to Charley. He takes him over to the camp and lets him play basketball and swim in the pool and Charley just loves him, except when Cameron pays too much attention to the horses and not to him.

Charley runs over and gives Cam a hug and they sit together and Cam is trying to joke around with him but Charley is hungry and grouchy and not sure about all this. Brad and I are so glad to see Cameron.

It’s not been that long since we arrived and they have already ushered us back to the room where they will prep Charley for surgery. He’s sitting on the bed but we are experiencing a bit of interference, as the hospital gown has been shoved onto the floor and he has ripped the identification bracelet off of his wrist has sailed it across the room.
The nurse has left the room to go make him another bracelet and says she will make an extra just in case.

Charley is showing Cam his Parent Trap movie and they are watching the dance scene. He pauses now and then and says, “You comin’ my birthday?” and then looks over at me and says, “I like him.” He blows me kisses from across the room and then calls me over to sit in the chair beside him. He hugs me and says, “I scared, Mommy,” and I could just cry buckets.

I tell him I’m right here and he says, “I like you,” and then tells me he’s scared again, and then says “Get out!” It’s clear that he’s getting pretty agitated so I ask the nurse to give him something to calm him down. She returns shortly with a Valium but the pill is green and he’s used to taking white pills so he refuses to take it. Brad and I step out of the room so the nurse can deal with him, and he takes the pill and a nurses aid helps him change. Cam peeks through a crack in the door. “He’s changing into his gown,” he says and gives us the thumbs up.

Well, the gown is officially on, but he’s livid because they took his pants, and he’s yelling for Dianne. We aren’t sure if she’s arrived at the hospital yet but Brad steps out and finds Dianne, Ruth, and Ronald (Ronalt, as Charley calls him) in the waiting room.
Dianne comes into the room and Charley gives a big sigh of relief and says, “Thanks the Lord,” and then hugs each of them.

Dianne says, “You’ll be fine, Charley,” and he yells, “I NOT fine, I scared,” and then says “You my friend,” and then looks at me and says, “I go Dianne’s house?”

Dianne is a wonderful friend. She and Ronald are brother and sister and Ruth is Ronald’s wife. They had a brother named Tony who they adored. Tony passed away a few years ago at the age of 45 and they miss him terribly. They all have first hand knowledge of what it means to have a loved one with Downs Syndrome. Since Brad began serving this church in 2006 they have treated us like family and it seems Charley has given Tony a way to live on through him. We are more than grateful; we are humbled by their devotion to our son.

Charley’s nurse has stepped into the room and I ask her if she can arrange to have his beard shaved during surgery, but she says that’s not part of the deal, and sorry about that.


Charley calls us all over to his bed and gets us in a football huddle. He says “You fix my party?” He’s talking about his birthday that is coming up in two weeks and of course, the presents. Don’t forget the presents. He’s a man with a plan though and proceeds to go through it step by step just to make sure we know what we are supposed to do…

We are to fix his party while he stays outside and then we are to call him in and everyone is to yell “Surprise!” and he’s going to act surprised. Next, he will open presents, blow out the candles on his Batman cake, and then collect the loot and Cameron will help him take it next door to the house and he will disappear into his room for the remainder of the day. The rest of us will stay next door at the school house and party. This is the routine every year, and we’ve got it down to a science.

We tell him we will all be at his birthday party, and he says, “Now give me my pants.”

Moments later he’s asleep. It appears the Valium has taken affect.

In Charley verbiage, “Thanks the Lord!”

The rest of us hang out in the room and take turns standing and sitting because there aren’t enough chairs. There is not one complaint about how tired they must be. They are the best of friends. We are surrounded by love and support, and I know that Charley knows he’s loved.

We hold hands in a prayer circle as Ronaldt asks God to watch over Charley. He’s snoring in the background and I just have to smile.

It’s been nearly 5 hours since they took us back to that room. Charley has had a nice long nap and is awake again. Now I’m wondering if someone might give me a Valium.

He’s wondering what’s going on and says, “Mom, I scared.”

I say, “Of what?” Dumb question, I know.

He says, “Of Doctor.” He’s looking around at the hospital equipment and I tell him, “Doctor is going to help you honey,”

He buries his head in my shoulder. “No not; Dr. don’t know me,” he says, “Now give me my pants!”

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, they come and take him to surgery. Brad and I walk down the hall with him and we both give him hugs and big kisses and tell him how much we love him and that we will be right here when he comes out. I watch with my heart in my throat as he disappears around the corner.

We’ve had visits from some of Brad’s clergy colleagues, and I don’t know what we would have done without the support of our friends. They may never know how much it meant to us to have them there. They stay with us for most of the day until he is out of surgery. The Doctors have just called us back to the waiting room and have told us that there were some complications and they removed 10 teeth. He may have some of his adult teeth drop down, but some will be permanently gone. They say he’s a trooper and that he should be fine and he’s been sent to the recovery room.

About an hour later he calls for his Dad who returns and says that now he’s calling for me and it’s my turn to go see him. As I come through the door he’s holding his arms out and wants a hug. He’s agitated and not out of the anesthetic yet, but is able to form his words clearly. “Mom, what happened to me?” He says.

I tell him they worked on his teeth.

He says, “I scared, Mom. I scared of Doctor.”

I squeeze his hand and start wiping the blood from his face. “It’s okay now, I’m here.”

“He says, “Now I go to Dianne’s house?”

As far as he’s concerned he’s done what he needs to do and has earned his trip to Dianne’s where she will let him lay on her bed, spread his videos all over the floor, hoard the clicker, and she will bring him chicken and milk. He just loves to go to Dianne’s.

So far the hospital has been good to us but I can’t accuse the nurses in the recovery room of being kind. They seem pretty anxious to get him out of there, and I don’t think he’s nearly ready to leave. Still, they start prepping him for discharge. Brad is staying with him while I traipse around Knoxville trying to find a pharmacy to fill a prescription for pain medicine because there isn’t one at the University of Tennessee Medical Center and it’s getting late. I’m afraid all of the drug stores will close if I wait any longer.

The cell phone rings. Its Brad calling to tell me that Charley is throwing up and that he will be staying a little longer to make sure he can keep some water down.

Finally. He’s home. It takes us 45 minutes to get him out of the car. He’s so groggy and combative that he’s swinging at us and refusing to move, and now he’s vomiting again. Our friend Graham is here ready to lend a hand so he and Brad can carry support him as he walks up the stairs. One of us might have to sleep beside him in the car tonight, and I’m wondering why the hospital didn’t keep him overnight.

I finally just crawl in beside him and hug him and tell him how much I love him, and would he please get out of the car, and that I have a surprise for him, and that all he has to do is come up the stairs and get into his bed. I tell him what a brave, big boy he is, and he allows me to grab hold of his pant leg and put his foot out onto the ground. Now if I can just get the other foot out, we’re halfway there. Come on son, just one more foot. Just a few minutes more. You can collapse in your bed and I will tend to you all night. Come on, please, do this one thing for Mom.

He forces himself out of the car and is leaning on me. I help him up the stairs and he’s wait-a-minute, he’s wobbling. He might fall over. Somehow he makes it into the house and down the hallway to the bed.

Manna from heaven, his head is on the pillow.

I look into the face of my wonderful son and there is only one thing left to say.

“Thanks the Lord.”

Well, it appears we’ve forgotten about the no eating in the morning thing because someone I know and love is sitting on the bed begging for chicken.

I lie to him of course, and assure him that he will be able to eat very soon. Poor thing has no clue.

He’s pulled his Dad down onto the bed and has him in a choke hold, giving him a big hug.

He says, “Daddy Brad, you’re my friend.”

Brad is struggling to breathe and I’m telling him to let go of his Dad but he’s got a death grip.

“Let go of Dad, son.” It is not a request. He lets go and Brad stands up and sort of sways back and forth like he’s been wrung out to dry.

“Well that was fun,” Brad says.

“I suggest you wave at him from across the room,” I say, and then WHOP! A pillow; right up side the head.

It appears my son has just challenged me to a pillow fight. If we were at home there would be no mercy because I’d pick the pillow up and clobber him, and we’d go at it until the feathers fly, but since we’re in a “tell room” and I do not wish to disturb the people in the rooms around us, I do not respond.

Whop! Another pillow.

“Ignoring you,” I say and he says, “Come on Sherry!” So I disappear into the shower out of range. It seems as good a time as any to get dressed for the day.

I stay in the bathroom long enough to fog up the mirror and when I come out he’s laying on the bed watching The Parent Trap on his portable DVD player that several people in the church gave him last year for his birthday. He takes it everywhere along with an old ice cream container with a blue handle that holds most of his DVDs. They are out of the original packages, of course, how else would they make good Frisbees?

He’s watching the dance scene where Haley Mills takes the scissors and cuts the back out her sister’s dress and then only her panties are showing.

He calls me over to the bed. “Mom, watch!” he says, and then the 2 girls get into a knock down drag out fight and are pulling each others hair and the punch bowl slides down the table and splashes all over the Boy Scout leader and the fruit flies everywhere, and the cake lands in a lady’s face. Charley is rolling around on the bed kicking his feet in the air and laughing his head off. I think about this for a moment and come to the conclusion that the world would be better off if we would all just get over ourselves, and roll around on a bed kicking our feet in the air.

He’s laughing out loud now, and I tell him to hush, but I have to admit it’s pretty funny and it beats hearing him beg for food.

He turns down the volume on the DVD player; now if only Charley Palmer came with volume control.

It’s 6:45 a.m. and luckily it’s time to leave for the hospital. Brad and I decide it’s time to slip out the back door so he won’t have to pass by the continental breakfast in the lobby, and since we are not allowing ourselves a cup of coffee in front of him it seems the best thing for us as well.

I go to the lobby and ask the desk clerk if he will deprogram the room key because Charley wants one of his own and he’s so nice; he just goes and gets him a new one. This is a big deal for Charley who feels like pretty big stuff getting is own room key.

I say, “Son, now you have a key you can use on your room at home.”

He’s no dummy. He knows that’s not going to work, and says, “Stop it Mom.”

Still, he’s in the back seat turning the credit card-like key around and around in his hand.

“Where goin’ Mom?”

“We’re going to the Dentist so he can fix your teeth.”

It’s pretty quiet in the back seat. I think he’s trying to figure it all out but bless his heart he has no clue.

God be with us.

Out of the car now and on our way down the hall to the waiting room. Charley says “Hi!” and has slapped a high 5 to at least 10 people along the way. Doctors, nurses, anyone. Some seem amused and happy to say hi to him, while others appear to be sleepwalking with hot coffee in their hand. Sure hope the caffeine kicks in before they perform his surgery.

Cameron is already waiting for us when we arrive. It’s over an hour drive to the hospital from Coker Creek where he runs the Coker Creek Village Camp and Conference Center. Cam is like a big brother to Charley. He takes him over to the camp and lets him play basketball and swim in the pool and Charley just loves him, except when Cameron pays too much attention to the horses and not to him.

Charley runs over and gives Cam a hug and they sit together and Cam is trying to joke around with him but Charley is hungry and grouchy and not sure about all this. Brad and I are so glad to see Cameron. I think we both breathed a huge sign of relief.

It’s not been that long since we arrived and they have already ushered us back to the room where they will prep Charley for surgery. He’s sitting on the bed but we are experiencing a bit of interference, as the hospital gown has been shoved onto the floor and he has ripped the identification bracelet off of his wrist has sailed it across the room.
The nurse has left the room to go make him another bracelet and says she will make an extra just in case.

Charley is showing Cam his Parent Trap movie and they are watching the dance scene. He pauses now and then and says, “You comin’ my birthday?” and then looks over at me and says, “I like him.” He blows me kisses from across the room and then calls me over to sit in the chair beside him. He hugs me and says, “I scared, Mommy,” and I could just cry buckets.

I tell him I’m right here and he says, “I like you,” and then tells me he’s scared again, and then says “Get out!” It’s clear that he’s getting pretty agitated so I ask the nurse to give him something to calm him down. She returns shortly with a Valium but the pill is green and he’s used to taking white pills so he refuses to take it. Brad and I step out of the room so the nurse can deal with him, and he takes the pill and a nurses aid helps him change. Cam peeks through a crack in the door. “He’s changing into his gown,” he says and gives us the thumbs up.

Well, the gown is officially on, but he’s livid because they took his pants, and he’s yelling for Dianne. We aren’t sure if she’s arrived at the hospital yet but Brad steps out and finds Dianne, Ruth, and Ronald (Ronalt, as Charley calls him) in the waiting room.
Dianne comes into the room and Charley gives a big sigh of relief and says, “Thanks the Lord,” and then hugs each of them.

Dianne says, “You’ll be fine, Charley,” and he yells, “I NOT fine, I scared,” and then says “You my friend,” and then looks at me and says, “I go Dianne’s house?”

Dianne is a wonderful friend. She and Ronald are brother and sister and Ruth is Ronald’s wife. They had a brother named Tony who they adored. Tony passed away a few years ago at the age of 45 and they miss him terribly. They all have first hand knowledge of what it means to have a loved one with Downs Syndrome. Since Brad began serving this church in 2006 they have treated us like family and it seems Charley has given Tony a way to live on through him. We are more than grateful; we are humbled by their devotion to our son.

Charley’s nurse has stepped into the room and I ask her if she can arrange to have his beard shaved during surgery, but she says that’s not part of the deal, sorry about that.

Charley calls us all over to his bed and gets us in a football huddle. He says “You fix my party?” He’s talking about his birthday that is coming up in two weeks and of course, the presents. Don’t forget the presents. He’s a man with a plan though and proceeds to go through it step by step just to make sure we know what we are supposed to do…

We are to fix his party while he stays outside and then we are to call him in and everyone is to yell “Surprise!” and he’s going to act surprised. Next, he will open presents, blow out the candles on his Batman cake, and then collect the loot and Cameron will help him take it next door to the house and he will disappear into his room for the remainder of the day. The rest of us will stay next door at the school house and party. This is the routine every year, and we’ve got it down to a science.

We tell him we will all be at his birthday party, and he says, “Now give me my pants!”

Moments later he’s asleep. It appears the Valium has taken affect.

In Charley verbiage, “Thanks the Lord!”

The rest of us hang out in the room and take turns standing and sitting because there aren’t enough chairs. There is not one complaint about how tired they must be. They are the best of friends. We are surrounded by love and support, and I know that Charley knows he’s loved.

We hold hands in a prayer circle as Ronaldt asks God to watch over Charley. He’s snoring in the background and I just have to smile.

It’s been nearly 5 hours since they took us back to that room. Charley has had a nice long nap and is awake again. Now I’m wondering if someone might give me a Valium.

He’s wondering what’s going on and says, “Mom, I scared.”

I say, “Of what?” Dumb question, I know.

He says, “Of Doctor.” He’s looking around at the hospital equipment and I tell him, “Doctor is going to help you honey.”

He buries his head in my shoulder. “No not; Dr. don’t know me,” he says, “Now give me my pants!”

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, they come and take him to surgery. Brad and I walk down the hall with him and we both give him hugs and big kisses and tell him how much we love him and that we will be right here when he comes out. I watch with my heart in my throat as he disappears around the corner.

We’ve had visits from some of Brad’s clergy colleagues, and I don’t know what we would have done without the support of our friends. They may never know how much it meant to us to have them there. They stay with us for most of the day until he is out of surgery. The Doctors have just called us back to the waiting room and have told us that there were some complications and they removed 10 teeth. He may have some of his adult teeth drop down, but some will be permanently gone. They say he’s a trooper and that he should be fine and he’s been sent to the recovery room.

About an hour later he calls for his Dad who returns and says that now he’s calling for me and it’s my turn to go see him. As I come through the door he’s holding his arms out and wants a hug. He’s agitated and not out of the anesthetic yet, but is able to form his words clearly.

“Mom, what happened to me?” He says.

I tell him they worked on his teeth.

He says, “I scared, Mom. I scared of Doctor.”

I squeeze his hand and start wiping the blood from his face. “It’s okay now, I’m here.”

“He says, “Now I go to Dianne’s house?”

As far as he’s concerned he’s done what he needs to do and has earned his trip to Dianne’s where she will let him lay on her bed, spread his videos all over the floor, hoard the clicker, and she will bring him chicken and milk. He just loves to go to Dianne’s.

So far the hospital has been good to us but I can’t accuse the nurses in the recovery room of being kind. They seem pretty anxious to get him out of there, and I don’t think he’s nearly ready to leave. Still, they start prepping him for discharge. Brad is staying with him while I traipse around Knoxville trying to find a pharmacy to fill a prescription for pain medicine because there isn’t one at the University of Tennessee Medical Center and it’s getting late. I’m afraid all of the drug stores will close if I wait any longer.

The cell phone rings. Its Brad calling to tell me that Charley is throwing up and that he will be staying a little longer to make sure he can keep some water down.

Finally. He’s home. It takes us 45 minutes to get him out of the car. He’s so groggy and combative that he’s swinging at us and refusing to move, and now he’s vomiting again. Our friend Graham is here ready to lend a hand so he and Brad can support him as he walks up the stairs. One of us might have to sleep beside him in the car tonight, and I’m wondering why the hospital didn’t keep him overnight.

I finally just crawl in beside him and hug him and tell him how much I love him, and would he please get out of the car, and that I have a surprise for him, and that all he has to do is come up the stairs and get into his bed. I tell him what a brave, big boy he is, and he allows me to grab hold of his pant leg and put his foot out onto the ground. Now if I can just get the other foot out, we’re halfway there. Come on son, just one more foot. Just a few minutes more. You can collapse in your bed and I will tend to you all night. Come on, please, do this one thing for Mom.

He forces himself out of the car and is leaning on me. I help him up the stairs and he’s wait-a-minute, he’s wobbling. He might fall over. Somehow he makes it into the house and down the hallway to the bed.

Manna from heaven, his head is on the pillow.

I look into the face of my wonderful son and there is only one thing left to say;

“Thanks the Lord.”