Princess Royal Hospital, Kingston Upon Hull.

 

Situated in East Hull, Princess Royal Hospital was the hospital I attended to have physiotherapy after having knee surgery. Unfortunately the hospital no longer exists as it was demolished, the land sold and houses developed, all very recently too so for this particular page, sadly, I will not be able to provide a photograph of the place. As I do not know much about the history of the place I will get straight to telling you about my experiences here.

 

Like most people who have physio I had to have several sessions and it seemed eventually that I couldn't go to a therapy session without experiencing something. For one reason or another my appointments were always at the end of the working day so the place was always pretty quiet, usually just me and the therapist. During my first session I had been shown what excersize to do and was left to it while the therapist did paper work at his desk across the room from me. We would chat while he worked but mostly we kept quiet concentrating on what each of us was doing. He was at his desk and I was sat up on the edge of a bed with my feet dangling and I was stretching my leg out to strengthen my thigh muscle (post-knee surgery). I don't really know how long I had been doing it but suddenly I heard loud foot steps on the corridor to my left. Nothing strange about that but I did notice a puzzled look on the therapists face.  The footsteps, which sounded really loud and at a brisk pace stopped and the therapist went into the corridor to investigate - he had already told me we were the only ones there. There was no door to the department I was in, only an arch way and the therapist stepped back into the room without saying a word. My session continued in the same way as already described and I stopped to take a break and have a drink of water.  During my rest I started to hear the same foot steps again but they seemed futher away this time. The foot steps grew louder and sounded like they were getting closer, they sounded exactly the same as they did the previous time and I expected the therapist to get up and look again, however, he did not even look up. I watched to see who might pass the arch way I could clearly see and as the foot steps went passed the archway they were without a physical presence - footsteps as clear as a bell but no actual person to go with them!

 

On my second session the situation was no different. Same therapist, same room and same therapy routine.  As I sat on the bed stretching my leg out I kept thinking about the footsteps I had heard the week before and how the therapist didn't even blink the second time I heard them, it was a really strange experience to the point I actually doubted that I had heard them.  While I sat there thinking I felt a tapping on my right shoulder as if someone was behind me, I turned my head to see who it was only to be faced with a magnolia painted brick wall! This really startled me, as you can probably imagine and my heart rate shot up considerably. Literally seconds later I felt the back of my hair get pulled, not hard and it didn't hurt at all but it was a firm couple of tugs.  I yelled out,  my therapist jumped out of his chair with shock and he came running over thinking I was hurt.  I told him that I was not hurt and explained to him what I had experienced just then and the week before.  He didn't react how I thought he would and only said "I wouldn't worry about that too much." and said nothing else about it.  I don't mind admitting I was quite shaken up by a what had happend so far but I shook it off and soon settled.

 

On what was to be my third and final session at the hospital, again, everything exactly the same I was doing my stretches when I suddenly heard a strong, deep male voice clearly say "Clean up that blood!".  the voice sounded very abrupt and gruff, and thinking about it now it seemed as if the owner of that voice could have been in a bad mood, grumpy or even possibly angry.  Like anyone would be I was startled, the hair on my neck stood on end, I was shaking and really couldn't believe what I HAD heard!  I stopped my therapy and spoke with the therapist explaining everything I had experienced in great detail and with as much conviction as I could possibly find.  He listend and looked to be paying full attention to what I had been saying.

In return, he told me about a few of the things he himself and others had experienced in the physiotherapy department and coincidentally or not, all at the same rough times my experiences had been.  It was the next thing he said that amazed me as much as anything else.  It turns out that the physiotherapy department used to be a mortuary where bodies where stored and post-mortems were performed. Personally, I do not think that I had experienced the ghosts, spirits or souls were that of the dead who had been there, in my mind it was all the spirit of staff who had worked there.  Either way, for me a very interesting experience - unfortunately, I cannot go back to investigate further but it does make me wonder, is the ground where the hospital stood haunted?  Are the residents of the new houses experiencing things like I did?

 

I'd love to know!