How Many More?

I went to visit mom and uncle a couple of days ago.  I found mom eating her lunch but struggling to chew.  She didn't explain, but I finally found out that her dental bridge is missing ( it probably got lonely for all the hearing aids).  She also has several broken teeth, so of course she's having trouble eating.  She didn't remember what happened to the dental bridge, and the nurse was absolutely NO HELP!  She told me that she asked mom about her teeth--did she have any pain, etc., and was told to leave her alone. So, that's as far as she went with that.  She didn't call us, didn't schedule a dental visit, or even think much of the entire thing. So much for involved and caring personnel.

I now asked that a dentist see her and plan to fix the teeth that can be saved and make new dental bridges and/or dentures.  I would like to be at the home the day the dentist gets there, but I'm pretty sure nobody will tell me when that will be.

The appearance of my mother with broken teeth and missing dentures just broke my heart.  She looks like a homeless person who has no one to care for her.  She looks BROKEN. I know it's only teeth, and she always hated going to the dentist and avoided it whenever possible, but it fits in with the question I keep asking.  How many more indignities will need to be suffered?  How many more times will the essence of who my mother always was be eroded away by the combined assault of dementia and the impersonal element of institutional living?  In themselves the teeth are a small piece of the changes mom has endured and we have been forced to witness, but it's a visible sign of all the hidden tangles that now mark my mother's life.

Her teeth may be replaced artificially, but the hole in my heart will stay forever.