Royse City Medical Lodge at 901 Interstate 30 Frontage Road, Royse City, Texas.

I've got a rare, terminal, genetic brain disorder that I didn't know about until its first symptoms showed up in 2012 (or maybe even a little earlier). I did some time at a facility in Rockwall (that's a phrase usually reserved when discussing prisons and such, but since I've heard of concentration camps with better conditions than I saw and experienced, I have chosen my words intentionally). After nearly a year of enduring atrocity after atrocity, I moved here. Last week this Royse City facility earned 100% compliance with State/Medicaid/Medicare regulations. The yearly, almost week-long scrutinization by "the State" inspectors resulted in the third consecutive rating that found no discrepancies/violations. Personally I found the fresh-baked daily cookies and the compassionate care along with the experienced skill, to be a far cry from the daily shenanigans of the "circus freaks" running my former home which I believe could be an inspiration for a modern-day version of Alvard Munch's widely recognized "The Scream" painting. Indeed I would not be surprised if some of the movies set in a 1950's state-run sanitorium could have served as the catalyst for a how-to manual on running a skilled nursing facility that I presume was the source of instruction for that Rockwall facility's leaders. I do have to beg for forgiveness at my description of that home because it's like comparing rotten, worm-infested, crab-apples scattered about a neglected and forgotten pasture, baking in the hot July Texas sun, and authentic, highly-rated, golf-ball-sized diamonds (so saying "it's like comparing apples and oranges" is an understatement). There simply are not words in the English dictionary to do justice to describing the bottomless chasm separating the two homes. In other words, I gratefully call this "home", and I've got experience to back that up.