Hospital Views: A Week at Woodhull

My plan this past week was to spend some time at the Rockaway Beaches shooting photos, and hang out with my boyfriend. Everything was turned upside down late last Friday night by a hit-and-run driver. The driver sped through a yellow light right into my boyfriend, sending him flying, and breaking his tibia. It's a miracle it wasn't worse.

I woke up to missed calls and panicked messages, and I rushed to Woodhull Hospital in Bushwick. I've been at the hospital every day since, and I have been struck by how bleak and sterile the hallways are, how impatient many of the staff have been, and how cold the hospital feels. I have been to my fair share of hospitals, and this has been the worst experience by far. It is not a hospital that invites warmth or healing, or confidence in all the staff. 

So instead of spending hours at the beach, I spent hours in his room, and wandered the hallways and surrounding streets with my camera. Below are some of those images.

I'm grateful he's now home and healing with me, and that we've left these lackluster hallways and unnatural light for good. I'm praying for a speedy recover, and thankful for everyone who has helped or reached out along the way.

Erica Reade