Roaming the hallways and rooms of a hospital alone, in the night, unsettles me. The sounds that reach me are from the machinery of the building, the footsteps of the night staff, and the moving and murmuring of patients in their beds. I know where I am. I've been here before. However, this place is still unfamiliar. I’d like it to be hidden from me, but it is visible by the force of circumstance. Here the animate are practically inanimate, the inanimate take on a life of their own, and recurrent patterns are meaningful in my mind. This is my experience of confronting vulnerability.