How Access to Care Saved the Champion Family
Teresa Champion’s world has always revolved around her kids.
An attorney by trade, Teresa raised her children while moving around the country alongside her husband’s military career. In 2000, she returned to Virginia, where she was raised, with her third-grade daughter and her first-grade son, who had recently received an autism diagnosis.
Teresa’s days were filled with advocacy for her son, James, for insurance coverage and protections for other kids like him. In pursuit of this coverage, Teresa helped found the Virginia Autism Project, established to work with Autism Speaks to secure insurance coverage for affected kids in Virginia.
As a teenager, James developed a rare autoimmune condition, PANDAS, that caused sudden and severe neuropsychiatric symptoms because of the immune system attacking the brain and causing inflammation. Anxiety, obsessive behaviors, aggression, and psychosis took over James’ personality, who previously was able to go to school, visit doctors’ offices, and live a largely typical life.
Over time, the outside world became inaccessible as James grew more destructive, and the people who loved him most were unable to intervene. Medical appointments were no longer just difficult; they were impossible.
“When people ask, ‘Why couldn’t you just take him somewhere? ‘ the answer is: take him where? We basically lost everything in our home; all our windows were broken, and we had holes in our walls big enough that you could walk through. There’s no way anyone can understand the level of panic and destruction these individuals have. We’re trying to keep him safe in the home,” said Teresa.
Hospitals weren’t safe. Police interventions escalated the situation, and Teresa learned not to call for help. By 2019, Teresa understood she was in a life-threatening situation – as a parent who had devoted her life to advocating for her family, fighting for her son’s health and safety remained her top priority, even when that came at her own expense.
That’s when Teresa learned about the dental van.
The mobile dental unit that arrived at Teresa’s home wasn’t just a convenience, it was the only way her son could receive care at all. Fully equipped with imaging tools and technology, the van brought care directly to a patient who could not leave his home.
But the technology alone wasn’t what made the difference. The CRNA-led care team listened to Teresa as she explained her son’s needs, risks, and the reality of their daily life. They coordinated with other doctors, who would allow the procedures to move forward unobstructed due to outdated oversight laws, coordinated complex schedules, and worked to ensure a Certified Registered Nurse Anesthetist (CRNA) was part of James’ care team.
Sedation was essential. Without it, James could not safely tolerate dental procedures. With it, he could receive treatment in a controlled, humane way.
“The nurses wanted to care for my son, not just treat him,” said Teresa. “That distinction matters when you’re dealing with someone this medically complex.”
While the dental team worked, Teresa was able to administer a separate, medically necessary therapy that helped reduce her son’s brain inflammation. This treatment would not have been possible without the help of sedation. The dental visits became a window of stability and started the healing process for James, whose condition has since improved to a much safer level with a higher quality of life.
“That moment changed everything,” said Teresa. “It saved our lives.”
Teresa’s story shows exactly what is lost when advanced practice nurses are restricted or underutilized.
CRNAs are highly trained clinicians who safely administer anesthesia every day across hospitals, surgical centers, and more. In mobile care environments like the dental van, their expertise can mean the difference between access and exclusion, dignity and trauma, care and neglect.
In this case, James was only able to receive his lifesaving care because of a commitment from a full care team who were willing to step away from their practices, including doctors who were willing to supervise outside of work hours, to ensure that James received the medical care he desperately needed.
“There is a better, more practical way to do this,” said Teresa. “The system shouldn’t make it harder to deliver care when the expertise is already there.”
The demand for mobile dental care far exceeds capacity. Families are told to wait, sometimes indefinitely. Teresa underscores that nurses and technicians will do whatever they can for patients within a system that doesn’t provide enough support to succeed.
This care is needed. In Virginia, the question is whether or not policymakers will ensure the workforce, especially nurse practitioners and CRNAs, have the authority and resources to meet that need.
“When you’re in crisis, you can’t lift your head high enough to see beyond the emergency in front of you,” said Teresa. “That doesn’t mean the need isn’t there.”
Her hope is that stories like hers make it harder to ignore the reality facing families across Virginia, whose quality of life and safety depend on whether or not care can reach them where they are.
