St Catherines Manor of Fostoria

They provide amazing care. The staff are friendly, helpful, and knowledgeable. The director of nursing is friendly and always willing to answer questions. My family was very well cared for.

Meets all residents needs!

Very friendly and home like feeling.

"If the Grim Reaper had a waiting room, it would be here." Look, I know it’s Fostoria, Ohio, but come on—there’s no excuse for this level of dingy. Walking into this place felt like stepping into a time capsule from the 1970s, except instead of retro charm, you get the distinct aroma of despair and expired disinfectant. The staff? Let’s just say you can practically smell the bad decisions wafting off them as they shuffle past, looking like they either just woke up from a nap in a supply closet or are still recovering from last night’s questionable life choices. I wouldn’t trust half of them to water a plant, let alone care for actual people. As for the “activities,” hope you really love bingo—because if not, congrats, you’re now just waiting around for the Grim Reaper with absolutely nothing to do. It’s like a haunted house but with fewer screams and more existential dread. And don’t even get me started on housekeeping. I was afraid to sit down. The sheets? I’m convinced they just swap them from bed to bed, hoping no one will notice. If you ask for fresh linens, you might as well flip a coin—will they be clean, or will they have mysterious stains? Who knows! Honestly, this place needs a serious intervention. A full-scale cleaning, a staff drug test, and maybe a priest to cleanse whatever bad juju is haunting these halls.

Update: I’ve cracked the code to solve your staffing shortage! Here's the plan: Step 1: Take all those managers who are not hands-on—you know, the ones who only emerge from their offices to spread misery like it's their job—and give them a pay cut. Seriously, why are we paying more to people who don’t even know what a resident call light looks like? Step 2: With all that sweet, sweet cash you’re saving by trimming down the "professional chair-warmers" (shoutout to Bridget and Dorothy—no longer there, but their legacies of pointlessness live on), you give actual raises to the real heroes: the aides and nurses. But, uh, not Chuck. Chuck shouldn’t be trusted to care for a potted plant, let alone an actual human being. Step 3: Maybe—just maybe—try treating your staff like human beings instead of disposable office supplies. Crazy idea, right? And while you’re at it, maybe start genuinely caring for the residents. I know it’s a radical concept, but trust me, pretending you care isn’t fooling anyone. Honestly, the neglect and incompetence around here could fill a Netflix true crime documentary. If this place stays open for another three years, it’ll be a bigger surprise than Chuck getting Employee of the Month.