One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

     I have been dealing with my elderly mother's health issues and my brothers and my sister's views on what should be done. My mother is eighty-five years old and lives alone in her own home. She lives half a block away from my sister. My three brothers live in the next town over. I live twelve hundred miles away. My mother was diagnosed with cancer last year. My brothers declared themselves too busy with their own lives to be available to help take her to doctor's appointments and chemo. My sister and her husband took on the responsibility and were glad to be able to do so. Two of my three brothers visit mom on rare occasions. Between my siblings they set up meals on wheels, a paid housekeeper and recently hired a nurses aid. The nurse aid is paid through a health insurance policy that my mother had taken out many years ago.
     Two months ago my sister and her husband decided to come to Florida where they have a second home. They very much needed a vacation and our mother's doctor reassured them that it would be the best time to do so. So  my sister delegated the care of our mother to my oldest brother. 
    Upon my sister's return home all hell broke loose. My two brothers are trying to declare that my mother has dementia and are pushing for her to enter a nursing home. My mother has always told me for as long as I can remember to promise to never put her in a nursing/assisted living home.
    Yes mom forgets things, heck she eighty-five. I forget why I walk in a room sometimes, doesn't everyone? Mom is dealing with a lot of stress, being old, having cancer/chemo, her own sister's recent death and she was missing her daughter, my sister. My brother sent me a email telling me that he was handling my mom as if she was a business and he was the CEO. Excuse my french here but What The Fuck!?!
     My brother sent in a psychologist to administer some cognitive tests on mom. The doctor asked my mom many questions and then she asked my mom to take a piece of paper and a pencil and pointed at my mother's wall clock. She asked mom to draw a clock and  to represent the time.
   Mom began drawing as the doctor waited and waited with a smug look of I gotcha on her face. Several minutes passed and then mom handed over the paper. The look on the doctor's face was priceless for on that paper my mother had drawn a true replica of her clock. Her drawing had both dimension and intricate detail. She even drew the cuckoo bird and added the details of the wood craving and painted flowers onto her rendition. What the doctor did not know was that my mother is sly as a fox and she is an artist. My Mom continues through her actions to teach me more than words could ever say. Escape is still possible even from the most oppressive situation.
Thank you Mom!