On my way to pick mom up for her dental appointment (cleaning, finally) my husband texted to tell me mom left him voicemail at 10:20 wondering where I was. Last night I told her I’d pick her up at 10:40. At 10:41 I knocked on her door. She answered saying, “My dental appointment started 10 minutes ago!!!” Not in the mood to placate I responded with, “That’s incorrect. Your appointment is at 11:00.” Her sails were slightly deflated as she responded, “Oh, I was sure it was at 10:30.” As she gathered up her purse and windbreaker, I saw the appointment card by the phone, which said 11:00, and where she’d written down 11:00 on her daily New Yorker calendar.
On our way up to the dental office, she looked at the clock (10:50) in the car (which she showed zero recognition of being a new car) and said we’d make it in plenty of time. A few minutes later she asked me, “Who do I have this appointment with?”
The long and short of mom’s dental cleaning is that she has periodontal disease. Things like ‘root planing’ are being discussed. The dentist will call me on Tuesday to chat about what possible therapies may be available as he is concerned about mom’s ability to sit in the chair for as long as root planing takes…
While I kind of embrace an organic reason (in her mind) that she needs to stay in AL, rather than return to the Island which she brought up as I was leaving, I am really sad and down to know she has this affliction. I’ve put in a call to her Island dentist to find out what mom’s cleaning pattern actually was for the last decade.