Welcome to the Hotel California, but it’s a hospital, not a hotel. Nonetheless I instantly thought of that Eagles hit song from 1977 when I entered this bizarre place.
„This could be heaven or this could be hell“
…And she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor
Thought I heard them say
…”And I was thinkin to myself
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place. Such a lovely place.“
My room: Old, shabby, paint chipped walls, a big hole in the ceiling. Ahh— but the view from the 4th floor balcony is splendid with the Mediterranean Golfe-Juan in one direction, and the Bay of Cannes in the other. “A postcard view,” as a visitor said.
I am here for therapy following my third femur surgery since my great fall last June (see a previous post, My Sorry Story). Helio Marin, this facility, has a sterling reputation as a rehabilitation center, although as I looked around that seemed hard to fanthom. I was seduced by the view and figured I could tolerate the depressing room — until I pulled back the plastic curtain and glanced into the minuscule bathroom. NO TOILET.
I completely freaked out. “ There is no toilet in the bathroom,“ I shouted to the aide who had led me to my new home. That is true, she said, but there is a toilet down the hall. What? This is 2024 and the rooms do not have toilets. I was incredulous, thinking back to student days traveling with “Europe on $5 day.” That was then — some 60 years ago. I am old, too old for down-the-hall bathroom treks.
“I cannot stay here.“ I was upset, angry, bewildered. “ I will call the „Cadre“ (big boss),“ the aide said. Madame Cadre (MC) appeared. Medium length, straight dark red hair. Glasses. Stern demeanor. No welcome smile, but a piercing stare meant to instill fear.
I was adamant. I insisted that I needed a room with a toilet, that I could not make the trips down the hall. “Why not? You can walk.“
“Lady, I am in a wheelchair. I can’t walk. That’s why I am here.”
She stated that this was the only room available. Take it or leave it, but she could put me on the waiting list for a better room with toilet.
I was frantic. I called the hospital where I had the recent surgery. They had arranged for me to come here. Please find me a room somewhere else, I pleaded. The woman in social services insisted this was the best place for my recuperation. Just be patient. You will get a better room, she said. The other facility she had recommended had no rooms.
I was stuck. It was either stay here or go home. I knew I was in no condition to go home and take care of myself.
I did not unpack, hoping I would have a better room in a few days. I gazed into the bathroom one more time. No shower either. That too is down the hall. Nothing to do but retreat to the balcony and let the view soothe my troubled soul.
Not for long. MC returned. “What are you doing out there? It’s dangerous, forbidden,“ she screamed. „Get in here.“ I dutifully wheeled myself back inside. This was too much, like a bad dream.
I later learned the balcony, a wide structure with the rooms opening onto it, is like everything here: Old. It is wooden, rotting and in danger of collapse. You can tread lightly at your own risk, but only on the initial portion. The area near near the edge is off limits. When MC departed, I disobeyed and ventured to the edge, the best place for photos. I was not the only one.
The next day I wanted to take a shower and wash my hair, yet there was a problem. I had neither towel nor wash cloth. You are expected to bring your own. How was I to know? During previous hospital experiences, they had been provided. Someone scrounged up a towel for me. I asked an aide if I could have a disposable wash cloth. I know they come in packages of 100. Hospitals use them.
„I have to ask the Cadre“ he replied. Madame’s answer: NO! I was not entitled to a disposable wash cloth. I obviously had not endeared myself to MC. I would be punished.
According to the Helio Marin welcome brochure, for a fee you can have laundry service. I asked my friendly morning nurse team about it. They only knew of a washing machine and dryer for the use of patients. But, they would ask the Cadre. I told them not to bother, that she did not like me.
“Don’t worry. She does not like anyone.”
Bottom line. Brochure lied. There is no laundry service. The washer and dryer only work with payment by credit card. When I checked in, I had been advised to leave valuables (cash, jewelry, credit cards ) with the office for safe keeping. I did.
Now I had to go back and sign out a credit card to do my laundry. What about detergent?
You can buy it at “Snack”, I was told. Wrong. Snack has no detergent for sale. My dirty clothes had to wait for my friend Karen to bring me detergent.
The lyrics to the Hotel California song are symbolic references to drugs. My experience here seemed sureal, like a bad trip on a hallucogene.
I decided better to laugh than cry. Make the best of it. Besides, in addition to the view, there are other pluses:
- The staff (aides, nurses etc. ) are wonderful. They are helpful, accommodating and actually smile. This was not case with most of the personnel (sourpusses) during my previous hospital stays.
- The bread is also better, hunks of real baguette instead of soft, tasteless rolls.
- The therapy seems good, although due to my immobile leg and semi- paralyzed arm I can’t do much yet.
- I can have lunch and dinner in the canteen with others. This is so much better than being a prisoner in a hospital room and eating meals alone.
- I can order takeout and delivery food from area restaurants. This is a lifesaver providing a break from bland, boring institutional food.
I have been here almost two weeks and am still in the same room. I passed by MC’s office yesterday. She was there, at her computer. I reminded her that I was on the waiting list for a better room. “It takes at least three weeks,“ she stated, eyes still focused on her computer. I told her I had heard of patients with better rooms leaving soon, “I make the decisions,” she announced.
I was not entitled to a disposable wash cloth. Will I be entitled to a room with toilet ? I am not counting on it.
Hotel California Part 2 coming soon: how I failed the electric wheelchair driving test, people I have met, balcony relaxation and photos…
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Tales and Travel 
My goodness, Leah, this sounds worse than anything the Eagles could cook up. Glad to see that you’re keeping positive and making a good story of it.
Martin Lake
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Thank you Martin. Always on the lookout for a good story. There are many at Hotel Ca.
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Yikes! Your sense of humor and graciousness in this situation is remarkable!!
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Thank you. All looking up. I got a room with facilities.
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Leah — Sorry about the experience but really appreciative of the way you wrote about it. Far d9ifferent from my experience with the hospital in Bordeaux in which my peritonitis was dealt with.
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Hi Ole, All is looking up. I move to a better room today. Actually it is good I am here. Excellent tgeraoy
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Goodness, Leah
What a dreadful place but good on you for sticking it out and having the excellent therapy. Sounds as if Cruella de Ville has some serious problems but I know you have the strength to stand up to her. We hope you will be able to go home soon.
It would make a good TV sketch!!
Take care, mend soon and we send our love.
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Things are looking up, Gilla. I get a better room next week. This facility is known for
rehabilitation of difficult , complicated cases. As this is my second fémur break coupled with the messed up shoulder, I am one. But I am not nearly as bad as some, victims of horrendous car, bicycle, motorcycle accidents. When I hear the stories, I count my blessings.
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Leah: Unreal! Just unbelievable in 2024. Our medical/ReHa facility experiences were just the opposite in Germany, Austria and Italy – What’s with France? Admittedly we had to pay what insurance didn’t cover – except Italy which ADAC covered.
Barbara is now in an Alzheimers Care Facility with her own very nice room with sink and toilet, but no shower. That’s a scheduled and closely monitored activity due to the instability of a number of the residents. Barbara does not use a wheelchair or walker and we are still able to do lunch and musical theatre. She just can’t remember any if it.
Hope Nurse Ratched relents and you get a room with toilet. Looking forward to your next chapter and wish you a full recovery.
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This place is definitely not representative of other rehab facilities in France. Everyone admits the building is a wreck, but the excellent staff and rehabilitation outweigh the negative. I will get a better room next week. If I can get back on my feet, it will be worth it.
I am glad Barbara is in good place and that you can still take her out. That is great.
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Oh leah, your adventures always give great stories 😆
I’m sorry that it’s not what you were waiting for and that there is always something that doesn’t go as planned but at least you have a “postcard view”.
Stay positive and funny in the end it will be worth it ❤️🩹
Fingers crossed 🤞
I’m waiting for part 2
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Thanks Caterina. The « postcard view « saves me. I am confident it will be worth it. It helps to laugh.
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Oh Leah
Thanks for sharing your very special story, I can’t believe that. It sounds like a story from 1800. In other countries this house would by fenced due to collapse risk and for sure not as an rehab. Hope you can soon change to a better room. I wish you all the best and I hope you can leave this place soon healthy and on your own feet.
Greetings Erika and Simba
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Danke Liebe Érika. It really is a bit much, but the people are super and it’s giving me lots of material to write about. « Collapse » was perhaps not the best word. I doubt the whole balcony could collapse, but the wooden floor could break. I should be careful, having experienced a wooden floor break on a bridge in China. I fell into a canal, but that’s another story (China II: The Fall, 2017). I have great hopes the therapy will provide the miracle I need.
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Leah -Wh
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Dear Leah,
Betty shared your blog and I was equally angered and saddened by your current adventures. My money is on you in the MC (Nurse Ratched) vs Leah tussle. Stay strong. You have always been one of my models for living life fully and well. Hugs.
Grace
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Dear Grace, I am happy to hear from you. No reason to be sad and angry. It is so bad, you have to laugh. I hope the therapy will get me walking again so I can live life fully. I am honored to think I was a model for you.
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My goodness I’m thinking of you and hope that things improve dramatically for Part 2!
Kindest regards Heather
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Things have to get better. I hope to have some good news in Part 2. Meanwhile, I will grin and bear it.
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Hi Leah I hope you’re recovering and feeling much more comfortable by now.
I’m just wondering if you have time to perhaps give me a bit of advice/guidance. I’m traveling with my husband Russ and his brother and our sister in law to South of France in May and think will be in your home area.
We would love to have a recommendation for a restaurant when we are staying in Antibes (At Hotel La Villa Port d’Antibes & Spa)
We all love food and I’ve enjoyed following your restaurant and travel adventures so feel that you may be perfect to suggest something authentic/local & perhaps specialising in seafood.
With kindest regards Heather Peberdy
( friends of Meg and Brendan Downie )
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Hî Heather, I am very sorry. Antibes is in the area, but not that close. I have no knowledge of Antibes restaurants. I stay close to home: Menton, Roquebrune or nearby Italy. Good luck and happy travels.
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Oh, Leah, I’m so sorry that this place is so dismal. I hope the physical therapy gets you out of there quickly. Is there a government agency in France that could force them to repair the balconies, fix the leaking hole in the ceiling, paint and provide simple things like towels and washcloths? Too late for you, but for all the people who follow you. Hugs, my friend.
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Hi Betty, thanks for the comment. I don’t think there is a gov’t agency that can intervene. The place is supposedly being renovated. It is huge. No work near me, but the renovation is supposed to last until 2030. Everyone, staff and patients, agree the place is a wreck. But all praise the therapy. I will tough it out.
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OMG, this is truly one of your great blogs! You have dealt with a really terrible situation in such an extraordinary, creative, smart, and funny way. I cried inwardly for you, but mostly, I laughed! But I know that it’s not funny at all and is going to demand a degree of perseverance that few have, but you are one of those who does. You will overcome, dear Leah! ❤️
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My dear Lynne, I am so glad you laughed. I have to. It preserves my sanity.
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What a bizarre, hospital drama, really an extremely sad, challenging situation for you, Leah. Take care— Bon retablissement 😊
Sent from the all-new AOL app for iOS
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Definitely different. If the therapy gets me walking again, it will be worth it.
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Yikes
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Hard to believe and so horrible. Truly sad . I feel so bad for you. Do you have to pay for this? Or is this the health care France offers? Sounds like undeveloped country.
Hope you get out of there very soon.
Love
Elizabeth
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It is beyond belief, not what you’d expect in France. But I am coping, adjusting. Laughter is the best remedy. No, I am not paying for this. All covered by the national health insurance. I have had stays in other French hospitals. They were not falling apart.
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Oh Leah, I am so sorry to hear of your Hotel California experience…on top of your injuries and vulnerability, there is this! (I experienced something similar in Italy–where I was told “hospitals are not hotels like in America.”) However, your positivism and strength and search for the best picture will get you through this. Coraggio, friend, coraggio.
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Good to hear from you Pat. I came for the therapy, not luxury. I will survive, with a smile. It is so crazy, you have to laugh.
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