BOSTON UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL-REHAB

It is difficult to say, but Bob's stay at King Unit in Manchester, N.H. was not an entirely unpleasant experience. The food was good, the Staff, nurses, and Doctors were wonderful. Under the circumstances, I don’t think either of us could have asked for better.
Bob, now completely stabilized and able to "play catch" on the tilt-table for long periods of time, was now ready to go to rehab. There were several places to choose from, but Boston seemed the ideal location for the lengthy stay and we .
were both very familiar with the city.
No one explained that one rehab center was better than another and doing research at that time was out of the question. Computers were the size of small cities and unheard of in the home. Silly us, we took the Doctor's word for it that Boston University rehab facility was one of the best and he would learn to take care of himself and gain most (if not all) of his independence back.
Everyone was almost weepy at the thought of Bob leaving and "moving on". I suspect they were going to miss the donuts Bob's dad brought every day and the almost daily "chuckles" that arose from his room.
But the day had to come. Bob was packed into an ambulance and "shipped off to Boston. He was anticipating (or trying to) what was to come. Hard to do when it is completely foreign territory.
No one explained that Boston University Rehab was smack-dab in the middle of the Columbia Street projects (also known as a "not so nice area). There was a remnant of a park across the street with a bunch of urchins yelling at each other in language that would make a sailor sweat!
Never mind-he was there to work!
Shortly after he arrived and got settled in, a kindly nurse explained that if he wanted a buy it had better be a small, cheap one as they were stolen on a regular basis and if he wanted a radio, he had better find a good place to hide it. So much for confidence in the system!
He was placed in a ward with five or six others. He was the only paraplegic, all the others were quads of various stages ranging from partial paralysis to "talking head". It was a bit depressing, especially after leaving King Unit.
The whole place kinda reminded one of the old orphanage movies. Dark, dingy and decorated by Martha Stewart's evil twin!
No matter, He was there to work.......Damn-it we had to remember that. Chances were, he would be there for upwards of six months-we HAD to get used to it.
I was introduced as the "primary care person" no name, just "her". We were confident that we could handle ANYTHING..........
Lord knows, we tried................