Remember the tooth that fell out at the Derby party? We're going to the dentist today. I swear it boggles my mind how that thing doesn't hurt. Atleast, I don't think it hurts because Jerry hasn't complained. Course, he never complains, but I've asked him if it hurts and he said, "no". That's another one of the challenges with our dementia friends. They can't tell you what's wrong. If they are sick, they can't tell you how bad they feel. If something hurts, they can't describe it. Actually, one time a couple of years ago, when Jerry was able to communicate a little better, he kept complaining about his wrist. I thought it was probably just arthritis pain. (We old folks become accustom to not "when it hurts" but "where it hurts".) So I gave him ibuprophen and didn't think much of it. After months of complaining I finally took him to the doctor for xrays. Sure enough, he had broken BOTH BONES! Now, before you turn me into social services, I must say the fracture had occured about two years earlier when he fell on the golf course. At that time, I DID take him to the emergency room because his leg was pretty banged up. All the attention was on the leg, so one noticed the wrist. It healed incorrectly and thus has developed arthritis. He never says a word about it anymore.
Back to the dentist. This tooth had been a problem child and was filled, 6 months ago, in November. I thought everything was fine. Evidently the filling didn't hold and it started bothering him again about a month ago. (I could tell because he would point.) MY BAD! I'm going today with my tail tucked between my legs and my head hung low that I didn't get him back to the dentist sooner. Atleast before it FELL OUT!
So today, unfortunately, might be an unpleasant experience. Thank heavens, the dentist is female and gentle, and has special empathy for Jerry because her dad suffered from dementia.
I'll let you know how it goes.