Bathroom remodeling in Boston usually means a small stacked room on the second or third floor of a triple-decker, directly above someone else's ceiling. The tub, the toilet, and the lavatory share a wall with the kitchen stack. A failed wax ring or a cracked tile pan does not stay a private problem. Say which floor you are on and whether the ceiling below has already stained. That fact belongs in the first sentence of the call.
Plaster, sometimes over lath, and tile set on it without modern backer, is common in older South End flats and in Dorchester three-families alike. The floor may slope, the joists may already be notched for a stack, and a cast-iron tub may be the stiffest thing in the room. A linen closet that becomes a shower needs a vent path that may not exist.
Fans in these houses often exhaust into the joist bay or out through a tired wall cap that sticks shut. Moisture then lives in the bay window casing beside the tub. If the only window is in the shower, the casing is a rot factory. Moving the toilet off the stack to gain a few inches of layout can mean opening the ceiling of the floor below. Ask what is sacred in the layout and what can stay put. Most of the pain is in the moves.
Hot water may come from a tank in the basement that also serves another floor, or from a heater jammed in a closet. Pressure drops when someone downstairs draws a bath. A remodel that adds a rain head without asking what the old riser can deliver will disappoint. Mention galvanized branches if the water runs rusty when you have been away. The pretty tile will not fix a clogged riser. Say so up front.
Describe the floor, the stain below if there is one, and whether this is the only bath. List a soft floor, a moldy sill, a slow drain, or a fan that goes nowhere. Say if people have to keep using the room every night. The neighborhood matters because stairs, alleys, and parking change how the work gets done. Call the number on this page.