Who Has My Mom’s Teeth?

Last weekend we took my mom to lunch and for some shopping at the Mall. She likes getting out and we bring her wheelchair and oxygen so it’s usually a pleasant day for all of us. That night, just as Scott and I sat down for some TV time, the nightly phone call came. These calls typically start every night at about 8:00 PM. Sometimes there are one or two calls, often there are many. The nights are still frightful for her. She doesn’t know any other phone numbers and can’t remember where her phone book is. It is the same one she’s had for years and it’s on the telephone table sitting beside her phone. I’ve made big signs in large print and taped them on her wall so she can call friends and family but she can’t figure out how to use the phone or dial anyone anymore. She can only call me. The nurse gives her something to help her relax but until the medication works she calls and we talk until she’s calmer.

She wanted to know if I had taken her laundry home with me to wash. I told her I hadn’t. She started to cry and said she thought maybe I had taken her bottom teeth which could be in with her dirty clothes. She thought they might be in the pocket of her brown slacks but since I didn’t bring home her laundry, she feared someone had stolen them or she had accidently thrown them away. I told her not to worry I’d be right over to find the missing teeth.

Now I was trying to figure out how I could examine all the Willow’s resident’s mouths to discover who might be wearing my mom’s bottom teeth. Scott would have to help with this. We’d have to round everyone up even if they were already in their pajamas or fast asleep. “Line up! Those of you with dentures of any kind – uppers or lowers, ill fitting or not, whether you think you are supposed to have them or just want to try some out, step forward!” I’d have to forage around in all their mouths, those with and without teeth. We’d have to look in all their false teeth cups, too. That would be very strange and unpleasant, yucky in fact, but it might be necessary. And since it is my mom and she needs her teeth, of course I’d have to find a way to do it.

Five minutes later she called to tell me she found her teeth. Relief! They were in her false teeth cup in her bathroom. There would be no need for teeth rummaging.

A few days ago my mom had a terrible day and I have been really sad ever since. She called me at home and left a message on the answering machine at 11:20 AM asking me to please come to see her before I went to work. I think she was hoping I’d come home for lunch and get the message. Because of her trouble with phones and dialing, calling me at work or on my cell phone is too much of a challenge for her. So I didn’t get the message until I was on my way to see her after work when Scott, who had been out all day, called to tell me about it. She’s always waiting for me and I can hear her TV when I arrive. I usually knock on the door and go in. But this time the door was locked and there was no sound from the TV. I had to get an aide to unlock her door and we found her sound asleep in her bed. I woke her and asked what was wrong. Her mind seemed so clear. She said her chest didn’t hurt, her stomach didn’t bother her, she had no head ache, she just didn’t feel good. I asked what she thought was wrong and she told me she was dying. She began to cry and told me she was afraid I would not know how much she loved me and she wanted me to come to her so she could tell me how important I was to her. She said the feeling of dying wasn’t bad, in fact it was almost nice, but she needed to tell me of her love. I’m glad we were able to have this conversation because it gives us both the peace we’ve needed, but it’s a conversation I hadn’t realized would be so painful for both of us.

Since then, when I ask her if she’d like to come over, watch a movie, go to lunch, or go shopping, she says, “I’m too tired.” She’s losing the interest and energy it takes to do things. Her medications are being increased and some are changing to give her more relief from breathing problems, constant pain, and anxiety. It is very hard to watch my mother’s discomfort and declining health. This is a really hard time for her and for me, and while I look for the humor in our days together to keep my sanity, the dark side of an ill parent is the reality and it is terrible, depressing, and unfortunately, the one constant.