St. Mary of the Woods

My mother was in the skilled nursing area for several months following a fall. The care she received was very poor and she declined both mentally and physically during her stay. The nurses hang out by their desks or in a closed room beyond and are incredibly bothered if you approach the desk to ask them anything. The nurses aids are short staffed, overwhelmed and often poorly trained. Almost none of the residents were taken to the dinning room for meals, which are instead served in the rooms. My mom had a broken arm and couldn't walk, yet the kitchen staff would drop off her tray across the room. Aids very rarely come to assist her. She lost over 10 lbs in 2 months and became incontinent. Her cognitive abilities rapidly declined and there were several times I thought we were going to lose her. After two months, I transferred her out to another local facility where she has been doing better and has gained back weight. I did not realize just how bad it was until we left.

Overall, it is a wonderful place. However, it is more expensive than many others. The wait staff is very friendly, accommodating and helpful.

Beautiful environment, friendly staff, great Therapists, delicious and wholesome meals, lots of activities, would highly recommend , go on a tour and see for yourself, everything is spotless and clean, a safe and caring place to be!!

I chose St. Mary Of the Woods because they were running a really good special at the time. Also they are a pet friendly facility and it is in a really good location that is close to everything. My apartment is a pretty good size, it is close to the size of my old house. They do not offer enough activities so I think they could use some improvement there. I would recommend depending on the person and their needs.

Very nice facility with amenities, but was not staffed to support memory issues of resident, which is needed in our situation.

I never wanted to live in an institution, to live with strangers. I wanted to keep my independence and my privacy. I wanted to spend the rest of my life in our own home with my wife, [name removed]. We had never owned a house before I retired. I was a minister, and we lived in houses the churches provided. [name removed] never complained about that, but when we finally were able to buy a house, she was overjoyed. “This is my house,” she would say. “I love my house.” It was a modest but pleasant house, with a patio where I could sit and read and watch the hummingbirds. And it was in an ideal location. We could walk to Lake Erie, sit on a bench, hold hands, and watch the sailboats go by. We were only a few blocks from the library and our favorite ice cream parlor. We were happy. But then life changed. [name removed] fell while walking to the bank and had to be helped home. She had a partial shoulder replacement, and brain surgery for water on the brain, and surgery and radiation for breast cancer, and then dementia. And our world fell apart. Finally, she died, at home, in my arms, after sixty-one years of marriage. What to do now? I was grieving and not well, and I didn’t want my family to have to care for me as they had for [name removed]. I thought about assisted living, but it seemed too expensive. That is, until my children convinced me that because I would no longer be paying for home health care or a mortgage or insurance or maintenance on the house or the upkeep of a car or for utilities or groceries or lawn care, it should be possible. And then, as a bonus, there would be no more cooking or cleaning or taking out the trash. And I would have my own apartment, with my own familiar furniture, and my music, and my books. So we visited several assisted living facilities, none of which appealed to me. One was affordable, but it was geared to young people and had little privacy. Another was large and impersonal. Still another was too close to a commercial area and a noisy construction site. But finally we found one that felt right, a quiet place called St. Mary of the Woods in Avon, Ohio. A friendly man who greeted us at St. Mary had a name tag that said simply “[name removed].” He turned out to be the administrator. The people who showed us around were kind and helpful. The apartments were comfortable, and the menus looked good. The Bingo and card games they offered didn’t interest me, but the musical performances, visits to the Cleveland Orchestra and the Ohio Light Opera, worship services, and opportunities for exercise did. So I took the plunge and signed up. And the house that [name removed] loved, with all its memories, was sold. St. Mary is a beautiful building, painstakingly maintained. But far more important are the kind and caring people I found here. I once told [name removed] I would live in a barn if I had these same people with me. From day one all the members of the staff knew my name. So I determined to learn their names and the names of the residents, and I made a list so I wouldn’t forget. And with the names, I met some fascinating people, both residents and staff. One resident, a former sailor, was easily recognized by the three American flags on his wheelchair. Another resident had two pinwheels on hers. A tablemate, just turned ninety-six, teases me about my falling asleep and failing to meet him to go to a worship service. I told him that when I fell asleep on the couch the book I had been reading fell on my toe and woke me up, and every so often, he says, with a twinkle in his eye, “I hope you didn’t hurt your toe.” Another tablemate told me about his high school teammate, Cliff Lewis, who became the first starting quarterback for the Cleveland Browns. One woman told me how she grew up on a farm, milking cows, went to college to study chemistry, and worked as a chemist all her life. Another woman, in her nineties, walks every day, has a pedometer, and tells me how many miles she has gone. A woman at her table just turned 102. There is a fascinating variety of backgrounds here that I didn’t have at home. A man tells me his parents came from Poland, and I ask him whether he speaks Polish. He answers me in Polish. A new woman grew up in the same neighborhood he did, and the staff sings “Happy Birthday” to her in Polish. A woman from the Province of Quebec proudly speaks French. A man who grew up speaking Italian teaches me a few phrases, and we usually greet each other in Italian, as I greet a woman from Austria in the German I learned in school. In addition to the residents, I also meet some of their families, like the former helicopter pilot who has his own plane and flies in from Alabama to see his mother. And his seven siblings who visit her faithfully. I would never have met any of these interesting people, if I were still at home, sitting on the couch all day, looking out the window, and lamenting times past. Many of the people who work here have become friends. The server who brought her fiancé in to introduce him to us. Her sister, who plays the viola in her high school orchestra. We talk about music and her college plans. Another server who jokingly reminds me to “eat your vegetables,” and one who loves theater and, before he went to graduate school, would break out with show tunes while he worked. The two grandmothers who take out their cellphones and show me pictures of their grandchildren. A nurse is on duty each day. I see one kind nurse kneeling down beside a frail resident, and hugging a grieving one, bringing healing not only with medicine but also by gently touching people who may no longer have anyone who touches them. Then there is the housekeeper who greets me every morning with the biggest, most welcoming smile. Another housekeeper, who when she learned my name is [name removed], turned off her sweeper, sat down beside me, and sang an old song to me: “Don’t Mess with [name removed].” She still sings snatches of it when we pass in the hall. The aides are friendly and helpful, and I appreciate the way they respond immediately to my call button, yet they sometimes seem intrusive. One unlocks my door and comes into my room in the middle of the night, which I think is invading my privacy. But she explains that she wants to be sure I am in my bed and not on the floor, and I remember the times I fell at night at home and wasn’t able to get up or to reach the phone to call for help. And I change my tune and thank her for checking on me. Other aides help me get into the shower, which I never thought I could tolerate. But as they do so they talk to me about their families or their pets or their second jobs, and soon it is friends who are helping me, not strangers. I love the people here. St. Mary has come to have the feel of a large family, with family members I look forward to seeing every day. If I had my “druthers,” as people say, I would still be at home with [name removed] beside me. But since that isn’t possible, I am perfectly content to be where I am. I thank God every day for my new home. [name removed] is a retired United Church of Christ minister. In addition to serving churches in Pennsylvania and Ohio, he worked for the Peace Corps in Ethiopia and Swaziland. He is the author of several books, the most recent being Major McKinley: [name removed] and the Civil War and Thinking Through the Children’s Sermon.

My parents were in this facility for 2 1/2 yrs. it’s ok if they can totally take care of themselves, but beware if you are in need of a little help. Seems to be a lot of turnover of staff so many are not familiar with needs and characteristics of the residents. Check in on your loved ones often.

My Father hss been a rrsident at St. Mary of the Woods for almost 10 years. He started in Independent Living. Two years ago he had a stroke and needed the nursing services. The nursing and therapy team did a great job helping him recover. Unfortunately he could not return to Independent Living. He is now in Assisted Living and doing very well. I highly recommend St. Marys!

Beware! This place cares about revenue first rather tram providing assisted living care especially as your parent needs more assistance over time The management of this facility will kick out your parent if they deem they require too much work . Of course they can make more revenue from new incoming more mobile residents at a higher rent rate than longer term existing residents. The prior review was almost like reading my parent's exact treatment. Shocking and terrible treatment of my parent after spending years there. My parent was kicked out and we had to find another place without even 30 days notice. My parent has not done well since which is highly driven by the shock of the move . Terrible and shocking treatment of my parent and very unethical treatment all around from the Director . The Director has no problem lying ..BEWARE Absolutely stay away!!!

My father was at St. Mary's for 4 years. Two months ago, the assisted living manager launched a vendetta to get my dad out of the facility. My dad was well loved and a problem-free resident-always appreciative to care givers and residents. On two occasions in one week after returning from a visit from the hospital in Feb. 2017 my dad required extra help transferring to his bed. They were isolated incidents related to his weakened state from being in the hospital and my dad sprung back and required no additional help. My dad was deemed to be transferring from his wheelchair to bed with minimal assistance by the rehabilitation staff at St. Mary"s and this was reported to the director. The administration went to great trouble to find other reasons for my dad to leave the facility. Citing that his heath had weakened and he needed more help. The news that he needed to leave was delivered unprofessionally to my dad and meetings re his health were conducted in public hallways, and at the dinner table with other residents present. We felt like we were railroaded out and helpless. The family was put in a great deal of stress and my father was very saddened and distressed that he had to move to another facility due to two isolated incidents. We found another facility. This facility has absolutely no concerns about my dad's ability to transfer to the bed from his wheelchair. The reason given by St. Mary's was totally refuted by the new facility. My dad has been very depressed since the move and misses his friends at St. Mary's. This incident should be a warning to any one considering placing a loved one there. There is lack of compassion and those in charge can have private vendettas in place re residents.