The nursing home I chose for mom (on the caregiver's advice) is enormous. It reminds me quite a bit of the one in Philadelphia, but is fortunately much cleaner and friendlier, though the layout of it looks like the assisted living part of the place my parents were in initially. Fortunately, the rehab part doesn't resemble it at all. That was a snake pit, where the racist attendants let my father lie raving on the floor after his stroke.
The admissions person (on weekends, at least) is a guy named Hansel, which brought a smile to my face, and you could tell he didn't want to hear the inevitable quips, so no breadcrumbs, no witch who eats children, etc. What were his parents thinking?
Transporting mom by van went well. The caregiver found me a guy who charged a reasonable price, and I will call him again, I'm sure, when I need to. I'm pretty sure mom will never be out of her wheelchair, even after her leg heals.
Tomorrow, the person I hire to take my parents to the doctor will ride the public van with her to have her stitches removed. I am concerned about that. They are less than reliable sometimes. I hope it all works out.