On Monday I left work early to join Emily and Margie on an urbexing trip. We would have a few hours in the afternoon to explore an old hospital complex that had closed down in 1999. This was Margie's find, she had already scouted it out and led us directly to the point of access without us being seen. Not that it really bothered us, who would suspect three older ladies to be trespassing within fenced property? I would have been prepared to use my accent to its fullest extent or even turn on the waterworks if necessary, but to be honest, none of us were the slightest bit concerned.
I would have loved to have brought Elliott along but he's actively searching for a new job, and definitely doesn't need a trespassing ticket against him. Plus it was also nice to be just with Emily and Margie, girl explores are always fun, and having not spent much time with these two old friends lately, due to COVID, I was looking forward to this outing immensely.
The location is being kept private, because I know graffiti 'artists' and taggers check these pages to try and find new places to desecrate, but also because no others of our group have yet been here, we're the first. We will reveal the location at a later date to urbexing friends, but not before we've returned for one more trip to the actual hospital itself in the near future. Today we were checking out a peripheral building containing laboratories.
We walked straight through two huge doors hung with warning signs, porcelain berries draped over the opening and Virginia creepers climbed rampantly up the stone walls, a few tinged with red signalling autumn's imminent arrival. Inside was a crumbling, debris filled hallway, asbestos tiles having fallen and disintegrated over the decades of neglect. Thick layers of curling paint scrolled their way down to the floor while dark shadows filled the corners and recesses. We stood, letting our eyes get accustomed to the rapid change from the bright sun outside, and hauled our cameras from their bags.
I found myself drawn to shreds of curtains hanging lank against the windows, creating interesting shapes and shadows, the remnants of cloth that somehow still draped down from curtain poles, even after all these years. There was a stage with buckled wooden floors, but I really needed a tripod to photograph this room well, and none of us had brought one of those, choosing to leave the extra weight in the car. I've really become a lazy photographer, which Emily admitted to also, and yearn for the day when I can take all the photos I want with a small light camera, rather than the heavy Sony hanging around my aching neck. We peered backstage and then moved to a different part of the building.
Then we entered a section of the building that had once housed the labs. We spotted eroded signs for Hematology and Pathology on the corridor walls and lab doors. The walls were blistered with old paint, curls and tendrils of brittle layers hung down and littered the floor. We prised open a heavy metal door, revealing a cold storage room, and a bad acrid smell suddenly attacked our noses; I backed away quickly. Who knew when that door had last been opened and what had been stored within. It was a little alarming and we didn't linger.
Every lab had been emptied and cleared thoroughly, leaving only empty shelves and counter tops, only warning labels, danger posters and PPE wear instructions taped to the walls. Margie made us jump, suddenly crashing into a box, the noise deafening and causing us to stop and duck down. But no-one heard us. She later scared the life out of me when, after I had passed 3 locked doors, her shadow flitted dark behind a small pain of frosted glass of one of the doors. She'd found another entry to the lab, making me think we'd got company other than ourselves. My heart was thumping furiously as I crept around the corner to see who was in that room, letting my breath out audibly when I discovered Margie scuffling through the rubble.
And then she excelled herself. It was pretty warm inside the old building so we took off our fleeces and tied them around our waists. I looked up to see Margie's t-shirt, and was initially speechless. And then I erupted into a fit of laughter. She loves taxidermy, and has quite a few critters in her house, especially deers with large antlers. Her shirt displayed a buck's head displaying a good number of points and very large text which read, 'I LOVE BIG RACKS.' I could barely speak, I was giggling like crazy, and it took me a few minutes, between giggles, to explain her shirt's real meaning. and since she doesn't actually possess a 'big rack' herself, it was even funnier. As the truth dawned, her face was a picture, and I was bent over double, actually sobbing by now. If the floor hadn't been so filthy, I would have simply let myself collapse in a giggling heap. Emily entered the room, hearing the laughter, and joined in after spying the miscreant shirt. That afternoon I must have released a month's worth of endorphines with my laughter. Every few minutes I'd start giggling again. If I entered a room and Emily was there, I'd start again and so would she. Even now I'm giggling as I write this. I wonder if Margie will ever wear that shirt again, gotta love her!
We came across a lot of sanitizing equipment, huge lights drooping ominously over us in the gloomy rooms, and even saw a retro X-ray machine. I asked Margie, if I got up on the X-ray table, would she stand over me displaying her shirt. She declined, ha ha!
But then, after plodding along multiple corridors, checking behind every door, and inspecting inside old refrigeration units, we entered Hell. The hallway we were on had ended, with two identical, very dark corridors extending into blackness on each side of us. The ceiling was a lot lower here and the doors that silently hung out into the passageways resembled doors I'd seen in abandoned asylums. Small panes of heavy glass set in reinforced doors revealed small rooms, bare except for a small sink and countertop. There were strange viewing windows extending into each of the rooms from the hallway, or cells, as I saw them. Emily told us these were animal testing labs.
I only took these two photos, I couldn't bring myself to shoot any more, this place felt incredibly ominous. As we walked quietly from room to room, the pain and depression that these animals must have felt was almost tangible. Tears pricked at my eyes as I slowly trod the dark corridors, really not wanting to enter any of the 'cells', but forcing myself to look at just how repulsive humans can really be. There were also rooms within rooms, with heavy doors that once locked the occupants inside, where cages were likely kept, and even these interior rooms had many tiny peepholes set in the walls. Charts were still hanging outside the entrances, listing protocol numbers, investigator names, acceptable ranges of temperature, and the safety equipment to be worn upon entry. These poor animals lived in metal cages, never seeing daylight, and their only visitors were garbed in tyvek coveralls, masks and gloves, and sometimes respirators. No love in their lives, only misery. It made my stomach sick. Emily suspected one room we entered was a killing room. I was done. I didn't want to check the second corridor, it looked like more tombs of torment.
I was in a bit of a funk after that and to be honest didn't take any decent photos afterwards, except this one which I processed as greyscale, to suit my mood. We climbed another floor and found a Jacobs ladder leading to the roof. It felt wonderful to burst through the hatch and feel the warm sun on my head and shoulders, but I immediately thought of the poor animals below who had never experience this life's necessity, and felt a deep guilt at my enjoyment. We sat up there for a long while, and I felt the sun cleansing me from my sorrow. We laughed again at Margie's shirt, and decided a beer was now essential to finish the day. I was glad to leave this building. We'll be back to explore that hospital on the same grounds; I guess I'll have to brace myself for that trip...
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