How does she lose her teeth?

I don't know how she did it, but she misplaced her bottom denture.  She couldn't remember how long it had been missing, but it was gone.  My husband and I rushed to the assisted living facility because we thought she might have taken it out for breakfast or lunch and the teeth might be in the trash bin.  I searched her room...the dirty clothes basket, trashcans, drawers, pockets, cabinets, closet, under chairs, bed...everywhere.  My husband and facility manager took the central trash bin.  My husband said you wouldn't want to know what was in the trash at the old folks' home.  Then I started searching her room again with the help of the staff.  I was going crazy.  I didn't want to have to buy a new set of teeth, but, of course, I would because she has to have them.  But how would she manage sitting in the dentist's chair?  What a nightmare!

Amazingly, one of the caregivers found the teeth in a coffee cup, hidden under a paper towel and a bunch of footlets stuffed in the cup.   The cup was in her chest of drawers in the back of the second drawer.   All of us had looked in the cup under the footlets, but not under the wadded-up paper towel.
I washed them and gave them back to my mother.  She tried to stick them in her ear and tells me that she has her hearing aids.  I tell her that the teeth go into her mouth.   Oh-h-h-h.  She walked me to the door, points to her ears and tells me thanks for finding her whatever.   It was sad, but funny, too.
Hiding and hoarding are classic symptoms of dementia.

Will I follow her down the dementia road?

I am the caregiver of my mom.  I have siblings but they don't live close, so decisions and care are left up to me with the help of my husband.   After my dad died in 2002, she continued to live at her home alone.  In 2005 she suffered a bowel obstruction and required two surgeries and a month of rehab.  We noticed changes in her mental condition after that experience.  Several times we hired caregivers to come and stay with her so she could stay at home, but she would run them off almost as quickly as we hired them.  We brought meals in, but she fed them to her little dog.  We divided her medicine into little compartments, but still she would forget to take the pills.  In 2007 her little obese dog died, probably from all those extra meals. No food, no medicine, no pet, we began to worry even more.  Early in 2008 we moved her into an assisted living facility.  She's eating meals and taking her medicine, but her mental condition continues to diminish.  We know that her father and his sister both suffered from dementia.  Will I follow my mother down that dementia road?