3 Allegedly True Hospital Ghost Stories | Real Paranormal Stories Series

3 Allegedly True Hospital Ghost Stories | Real Paranormal Stories Series

August 9, 2019 86 By William Hollis


I don’t know where to begin… It was the July of 1982 and I had just started
a new career at the California Rehabilitation Center. One evening I was returning from the kitchen
galley when I noticed a light coming from a room. Any other time I would have thought nothing
of it. However, when I began my shift earlier in
the day at 3.00pm, no one had said to expect a patient there. Curious, I entered. With my back to the door, I inspected the
room. It appeared to be an operating room. Suddenly, the door creaked behind me. I turned to see a man in scrubs. Paying me no attention, he walked towards
the operating table. Then, as soon as he appeared, he was gone. My head began to spin. What had I just seen? Did I imagine this? I was so scared that I could not move. After regaining composure, I grabbed a pair
of sutures from the tray besides the operating table. I stepped back out into the corridor to ask
a nurse or officer why these were left unsecured. The entire ward was empty. No doctors. No nurses. Not a single officer. My heart still racing, I turned back to the
operating room to make sure it was secured. To my total shock, there was no door. No room… nothing. It had completely vanished. I went weak at the knees. The air knocked from my lungs. I felt like I was going to be sick. Or, maybe I was going to faint. Or both. Had I imagined the whole thing? Then it hit me: I still had the sutures from
the room in my hand. Had I not have been holding them, I would
have questioned the entire thing. I would have thought I was going insane. I have only shared this with my husband and
another co-worker. This same thing had also happened to her. During the twenty-one years that I spent working
at that facility, I encountered that same room two more times. Each time, I would enter and leave. And each time, the room would disappear… I had endured morning sickness the entire
pregnancy. I had gained only 11 pounds which put me in
the high risk category. Needless to say, the birth didn’t go as planned. I was induced into labor at 36 weeks because
she had stopped growing. Thankfully after 4 hours of labour I delivered
a surprisingly healthy, beautiful, baby girl. Three hours after delivery I started hemorrhaging
severely. My blood pressure dropped dangerously low. My husband and I were told if the bleeding
didn’t stop within the next few hours, I would have to have surgery. My nurse, Wendy, began giving me shots of
Pitocin every 30 minutes. After two shots nothing had changed. I couldn’t focus, everything was surreal. I guess because of my low blood pressure. I remember thinking I was going to die, but
I was very calm. Wendy came in to let me know her shift would
be over soon but someone else would come in to give me shots. She promised to come check in on me the next
morning. It was 6 O’clock in the evening when she came
to my room. Her name tag read ‘Maria’. She was a short lady, about 5 feet. She had short brown hair with grey streaks,
and beautiful blue eyes. Her voice was soft and comforting: unlike
any other that I have ever heard before or since. As soon as she entered the room, I felt some
of my strength return to me. Only moments before I could not even lift
my arms because I was so weak. I rolled over to my side, thinking she was
there to give me my next shot. She said: “Oh honey, I’m not giving you a
shot, you don’t need another one. You’re going to be just fine.” She stood next to my bed, smiling, as she
rubbed my legs for a few minutes. I glanced over at my husband, intending on
asking him if he heard what she had said. He was sat in a chair, sound to sleep. She smiled at me once more, patted my leg,
and turned towards the door. Then, she was gone. I didn’t see her walk out the door, she just
sort of vanished. I again looked over at my husband, in the
hope that he would acknowledge she had really been in the room. He was still sleeping. I tried to wake him by calling his name. He didn’t stir. I picked up a thermometer from the bedside
table and threw it at him. He still didn’t wake up. At that moment another nurse called Sheila
walked into the room carrying the familiar needle. I told her I didn’t need any more Pitocin. After all, that is what the last nurse had
told me. Confused, she said that she was my only nurse
for the night. She asked me questions about the other nurse. What did she look like? Did I know her name? She looked over at the empty cradle at the
foot of my bed. She asked if my baby was in the nursery, to
which I replied yes. I saw the relief wash over her face. She told me that she would be back in a minute
before quickly rushing out of the door. A short time later I saw her standing at my
door along with two other nurses. They were all whispering and looking in at
me. Finally they all walked into the room and
came over to my bed. One nurse looked to be in her mid twenties,
the other was surely in her fifties. Her name was Sarah. They started to fire questions at me so rapidly
it frightened me. By now all I could think was that the mysterious
lady had probably been trying to kidnap my little girl. Fearing the worst, I began demanding that
I was allowed to see my baby. My cries finally roused my husband from his
sleep. He was initially bewildered, having no memory
of falling asleep. I was demanding very loudly as the nurses
assured me that my baby was safe in the nursery. The elder nurse, Sarah, told the younger to
bring her to me. As we waited Nurse Sarah took my blood pressure. She turned to Nurse Sheila and told her to
put away the syringe and call my doctor. I wouldn’t be needing that shot. My blood pressure was normal. Relief washed over me when the young nurse
finally returned, carrying my baby. She placed her in my arms then left the room. Nurse Sarah pulled up a chair and sat down
next to my bed. She sat there smiling as I held my baby. She asked if she was my first child. When I replied fourth, she asked about my
older children. I felt like she was about to tell me something
important when the doctor came in. As soon as he entered the room, he started
in with his own questions. They were mostly directed at Nurse Sarah. When she explained to him what it was he wanted
to know, he simply smiled and said: “Ok then.” He checked me over, and told me he was amazed
by my recovery. He told me that the colour had even returned
to my face. He stood there staring at me for a minute
or so then suddenly he asked if I was hungry to which I replied ‘starving’. He told me he would order a pizza on his way
out. After he left Nurse Sarah turned to me and
said: “I have never talked to anyone who Maria has visited.” She was inspecting my face, as if she was
trying to decide whether she should keep talking or not. I silently stared back at her. Maria had been a nurse on the maternity floor
years ago. Nurse Sarah explained solemnly, “The story
I’ve heard is that Maria got called into work one stormy night, and she never made it here. The rumors are that she sometimes visits the
new moms. All the descriptions of her are the same.” The nurse looked silently at the floor. I remember thinking she was saying a prayer. She shook her head and whispered, “Who am
I to question these things?” I wanted to question her to find out more,
but I could tell she had said all that she was going to. She rose from the chair and patted my leg. Just as she left the room she winked and said,
“They say she only visits special people.” The next day, to everyone’s surprise, I was
released from hospital in excellent health. As my husband and I walked down the corridor
with our baby daughter, we could feel everyone’s eyes on us. Some were whispering, others were just staring. Perhaps they were thinking I was a lunatic,
or maybe they were wondering, “Why her?” This story is a special part of me. I know that night I experienced something
most people never do. That night I met Maria. For that I am extremely grateful. In September 2013, I was hospitalized with
a severe case of the flu. I had been sick for several days, but the
illness reached such a peak that hospital was my only choice. The doctors gave me morphine, and kept me
on it for a few days. At the time, it was hard for me to know how
many because all the days bled together in a haze. The morphine gave fevered dreams. Swirling tentacles, faces, black shadows… I was experiencing many hallucinations. One of the nights, I woke up terrified. A voice had woken me. I felt someone was in the room with me. I was completely panicked, gripped by fear,
on the verge of hysteria. Sweat was hot on my brow. I knew that I wasn’t alone in that room:
I could feel a presence. A presence which was entirely unlike any of
my hallucinations. Frantically, I called for my nurse and turned
on the lights. There was no one there. I did not know what to think. Two days later I was released from hospital. I attributed my nighttime panic to the morphine. After all, I had been very sick. That evening my mom came to stay with me,
as I was still suffering from the last few symptoms of the flu. Around 10pm we were washing the dishes. We set the sink stopper in the sink. It was a heavy metal one. I was sitting on top of the washing machine,
and my mom was walking across the kitchen when the sink stopper flew across the room. It passed right in between us, moving with
such force that we were both splattered with water and the wind it created was enough to
move my hair. It travelled directly to the corner of the
room, but instead of bouncing back and rolling around as a normal object would, it fell to
the floor, perfectly straight, and landed flat side down. It was like someone or something was trying
to get my attention. The next day I found out that one of my close
friends had died of an accidental drug overdose whilst I was in hospital, at approximately
the same time I felt someone with me in the room. I think it was him who came to visit me. I think it was him who threw the sink stopper
across the room two days afterwards. Later, I told his mother about what had happened. She said that right after he died, her computer
turned on in the middle of the day, and printed a picture of both of them together. In my mind, there is no shadow of a doubt
that our spirit has the ability to linger after death and communicate with
the living.