Saturday, June 06, 2026
When convenience is not worth the price
What a week!
One week ago, Bunny was transfered to the rehabilitation center. The hospital had arranged for her to go to (what I'm calling) The Good Rehab™, but Bunny wanted another one that was much closer to Chez Boca. As in walking distance of Chez Boca (that is, if you ignore multiple fences along the way and the lack of a cross walk across a six lanes of traffic on a major road). So that's where she was transported to.
But upon entering that place, it was clear it was a mistake. What happened next is a blur of the next 72 hours:
- The smell! It wasn't nauseating or unbearable, but … unfamiliar and thus disturbing. It purmeated the place. You could not get away from it.
- The initial room that Bunny was assigned lacked a bed. Fortunately (I guess) there was another room nearby where she was reassigned.
- Speaking of rooms, while sizable, all it contained was a wall-mounted TV, a wall-mounted clock, a wall-mounted light fixture, the said bed (which wasn't much bigger than the gurney Bunny arrived on), a bed-side stand, and a chair. That's it. No other decorations other than the faded pastel paint on the walls. The closet was more of a built-in cabinet with a piece of plywood for a door, sans latch.
- The bathroom in Bunny's room (which I didn't even realize existed until late Sunday which says something about the place) was a bathroom in a technical sense—it had a toilet and a sink with a soap and paper towel dispensers on other side. No tub nor shower unit. And the sink had standing water in it.
- The window shade was broken. It could neither move up nor down. It was stuck where it was.
- The food at the rehab center was, to put it bluntly, the “grocery store you hate to shop at branded TV dinner” quality. Technically edible, but far from palatable (on the other hand, the food at the hospital was quite good).
- The rehab center was severely understaffed. And they routinely failed to listen to Bunny (“Don't move my arms! I can't be rolled on my side!”).
- It took over a day for the rehab center to get Bunny's pain medications. I had failed to pick up her prescription before her pharmacy closed on Saturday.
- The two times Bunny let me go home to get some sleep (since I felt really guilty about leaving her there alone) I got a call only a few hours later to come back and help her as she felt she was being ignored.
- I purchased a cheap air matress and pump in order to get some sleep. Sleeping on the chair was not comfortable, and the rehab facility had nothing to offer, citing fire codes (and I really didn't want to leave her there alone for any length of time).
- I overheard two RNs talking about the horrible working conditions there. One was worried about losing her license.
- Our only two options for leaving were bleak: 1) we could leave immediately “against medical advice” but were were responsible for our own transportation, or 2) wait until Monday to initiate a transfer as it couldn't be done over the weekend. We opted to wait until Monday.
- The transfer request was made on Monday; it didn't happen until Tuesday afternoon.
- A third RN, just prior to Bunny being transferred, wished us well as the place we were going. She worked there, and felt this place was better.
About that last bit with the RN: on the day we arrived, I did visit The Good Rehab™ to see what it would take to get transferred there. Not only was it cleaner, brighter, better smelling, and spacious, but within ten minutes of arriving, I was being given a tour from the concierge (they have a concierge!). It was definitely clear that we should have come here first.
But alas, mistakes on our part were made.
Anyway, since Tuesday:
- I followed the transport van to The Good Rehab™. The pulled up to the entrance. By the time I parked and entered the new rehab center, Bunny was already in her room, in bed, and being looked over by a few nurses.
- The RN helped me fill out the paper work, and gave me the week's menu so Bunny and I could work out what she wanted to eat, with options like chicken fettuccine alfredo or crab cakes.
- The food is incredible here! It's much better than the hospital (and that was good). A few times Bunny has asked for seconds, and gotten seconds.
- There was a dietician that came around to talk about the menu with Bunny.
- The room is sizable, and while she's sharing a room, it's “tastefully bland” (like the hospital room was—that was a very nice room too). And the bathroom is a full bathroom with a bathtub, and a sink that doesn't have standing water.
- The door to the bathroom is insane! It looks like a normal door with a door handle and it latches close, but you can push it open from either side! Or pull it open from either side.
- It's well staffed, and they do respond with ten to fifteen minutes, depending upon how busy they are. They are also friendly (but to be fair, they were also friendly at the other rehab center, even as they were understaffed).
- There's a grand piano in the main hall. The other night there was a woman playing classical music on it.
- I don't feel bad at all about leaving her here overnight. It's a real nice place.
And for some amusement, this rolled into the room the other day:
![[A picture of a telepresence robot] "It's no FX-7 but then again, Bunny isn't in a bacta tank"](/2026/06/06/robot.jpg "\"It's no FX-7 but then again, Bunny isn't in a bacta tank\"")
Overall, Bunny is doing quite well at The Good Rehab™. It's clear she's making progress as she doesn't scream as much when physical therapy comes by to visit. From what we've been hearing, it'll be a few more weeks before she can return home.
But in the mean time, she's in good hands.
![[Self-portrait with a Christmas Tree] Oh Chrismtas Tree! My Christmas Tree! Rise up and hear the bells!](https://www.conman.org/people/spc/about/2025/1203.t.jpg "Oh Chrismtas Tree! My Christmas Tree! Rise up and hear the bells!")