You’d think that after the Bupa nurse said Dad’s dentures were found, that would be the end of it.
I headed there this afternoon to discover that they only found his upper set. The lower ones are missing.
Again, no one there thought of putting him on soft or purée food till my partner and I got there.
No one knows where these lower dentures are and the only communiqué from Bupa is that they are now ‘confirmed to be missing’ and I am ‘welcome to write a formal complaint so it will be investigated fully.’
I shouldn’t need to write a formal complaint for a full investigation to take place and for the dentures to be replaced.
I have never seen Dad this weak in his life and he is severely depressed as a direct result.
I hold all parties who put him in this position responsible, and as of Monday some sharp formal action will take place.
My GP has been in touch and he will try to get an urgent referral to the psychogeriatrician.
Allies on Twitter have been remarkable and Jane suggests the health and disability commissioner should get involved. I couldn’t agree more, but first I need to get him out of there, into somewhere safer and more professional, and get dentures made urgently.
I don’t think you need a law degree to see that the ingredients of a case in negligence are now met.
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Jack, I have pulled the plug on Mastodon. Since it’s the weekend, I figured it best to give you word here.
More on topic… I do empathize. I think I told you my maternal grandparents are 95 (Grandpa) and 93 (Grandma), now. The latest kerfluffle is that someone referenced my mother’s desires to move them down to our town so they can receive more attentive care– and he’s mad now, and digging in his heels.
I am quite amazed, honestly, that the assisted living community really isn’t too far from their old house. That’s quite a golden opportunity, I think. I can understand why he’s reluctant to leave, but it’s not actually about him- it’s about care for my grandmother, whose mind and energy is mostly gone to Alzheimer’s and dementia, now. But I gather you remember our conversations. Mostly, though, Jack, I don’t like how my mother is acting about all of it. That is the bigger sadness- yes, I agree death and dying is hard, but more so when it’s coated with a heavy layer of dysfunction, and fear coated with anger.
I’m sorry to see you go, J., and to learn of the dysfunction and anger your family members are going through. Also some elderly love the familiarity of where they are, so moving and a change of scene are hard.
It’s gone worse, Jack.
I will save thoughts for abandoning most of social media (yes, Twitter too) for a comment on your most recent post.
My grandmother called APS on my grandfather. Mom and Dad believe it may force the move here; someone spilled the beans on their intentions before, and he dug in his heels, hard.