Late last month, we kicked off an exciting new project: The construction of our new Susan A. Ellings Inpatient Rehabilitation Unit at St. Charles’ Bend hospital.
Inpatient rehab is where our patients go to heal and recover from traumatic injuries and serious illnesses. It’s a busy place — caregivers there provided more than 11,000 therapy visits in 2025.
The current unit is small and outdated, but that doesn’t stop our team from doing incredible, restorative work. Constrained by the space, however, they can’t see enough people to meet what our region needs so hundreds must receive care far from home each year.
Which is why we’re building a new 23-bed unit with larger patient rooms, state-of-the-art technology and plenty of space for our patients, their families and our caregivers to work together toward healing, recovery and a restored sense of independence. It’s not a place people want to be, but if they need our services, then we want them here in Central Oregon.
You’ll hear more about the unit over the coming year. Today, though, I’d like to talk about the story — and the person — behind its name. St. Charles Foundation has been raising funds for this project for the past year, and a generous anonymous donor chose to name the unit in honor of Susan A. Ellings, who passed away in 2014.
Susan A. Ellings
“My mother was like sunshine in human form. Her love for everyone and everything was radiant,” said Julie Cox, Ellings’ daughter, a registered nurse who works in the St. Charles Clinical Education department.
“When I was growing up, she was always involved in the parent-teacher association or volunteering somewhere or working with the youth group at our church,” she continued. “Her passion for other people and her ability to see the light in people — regardless of their situation — is something that’s always at the forefront of my brain.”
The daughter of immigrants from Germany, Ellings was born in Chicago and moved to Beaverton in her early teens, Julie said. After college, she worked at Fred Meyer headquarters, where she met her husband Joe, and the two opened a signage and graphics business together, which they ran until Susan got sick, at which point Joe closed up shop to focus on taking care of his wife.
While reflecting on her mom, Julie cited an old story you may have heard:
An old man had a habit of early morning walks on the beach. One day, after a storm, he saw a human figure in the distance moving like a dancer. As he came closer he saw that it was a young woman and she was not dancing but was reaching down to the sand, picking up a starfish and very gently throwing them into the ocean.
"Young lady," he asked, "Why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?"
"The sun is up, and the tide is going out, and if I do not throw them in they will die."
"But young lady, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it? You cannot possibly make a difference."
The young woman listened politely, paused and then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves, saying: "It made a difference for that one."
“That totally encompasses who my mom was,” Julie said.
When I hear that, I can’t help but think about the incredible care that happens every day in the inpatient rehab unit. No matter how big we build, our team won’t be able to help everyone who needs it. But for the people they are able to see, they make a life-changing difference.
I hope Susan Ellings would be proud to have her name on a place like that.
