The top floor’s old-fashioned hospital ways were too much to pass without a photo or two… with the paint falling off the walls it was as if the building was shedding its skin in an effort to become rejuvenated or useful.
Jars like these were used to measure the volume of fluid pumped out of TB patients’ lungs.
Indianapolis’ beautiful downtown is in the distance, past the gas storage tank.
The women’s ward had a player piano in it, likely a donation.
Looking into the main workhouse from the skyway into the annex elevator. But who care? Look at the colors!
Sarah in Miller Creek Drain.
A comrade lights-up where so many workers apparently congregated to do the same.
The old men’s ward is an example of what the hospital resembled before part of the complex was modernized. Small rooms, light switches outside the door, small observation windows set into heavy wood. If you ask me, though, the tile work across the floors is the most spectacular.
Hand painted fire extinguisher notices and a long room which I strongly suspect was a pattern cutting room.