Excuse Me, I'm Dying - Can You Point Me Where I Need to Go?

December 20, 2018

Allina Health Clinics

PO Box 43

Minneapolis, MN 55440-0043

Dear Whoever Ends Up With This Letter,

My name is Tauni Howes. I am forty years old, educated, employed as a regional operations manager (10 years), and enjoy overall good health.

I’ve had to visit Abbott Northwestern Hospital four times in the past four months for tests and an operation. Each time I visited your hospital, I got hopelessly lost despite parking and going where I was directed.

But my experience yesterday was so ridiculous and so comical, I thought you needed to know about it before someone dies in your ant maze of hallways and you have a real problem on your hands. Because had my health not been so good, this could have been a true disaster. (Google “Second Body Found In San Francisco Hospital In One Week.” I’ll wait.)

Anyway, my problem started when I followed the signs for “Piper Breast Center Parking & Valet,” but couldn’t find it. I was directed to the correct parking lot, where I was assured I could park.

I was then approached by an attendant, who assured me I could not. He directed me to another parking lot across the street when I explained I needed to get to Piper Breast Center.

I parked in the lot as directed. Upon getting out of my car, I saw no signs for a stairwell, elevator, nothing. I began to walk aimlessly in your garage, certain I would find a door, which I did. I descended the stairwell until I got to the bottom and realized I was locked in. Holy shit, right? I frantically started pulling on the door, which had no handle, but luckily there was a hole where someone ripped the doorknob off. So I pulled frantically at the door, but it’s still latched at the very bottom latch, so I just end up violently wobbling it back and forth in an effort to get out.  Outsmarted by the door, I walked back upstairs to level E, where thankfully the door had a doorknob. (None of the other doors opened on the other floors, which was super unsettling.)

So, now I’m back at Square One, sweating and frustrated. I began to walk aimlessly again, walking up the ramp of the parking garage, looking for a sign/door/stairwell that wouldn’t  trap me. I finally find a door to the Mother & Baby Center. As I make a beeline for it, I passed an elderly gentleman. We made  eye contact and I said, “I’ve been lost in this parking garage since Sunday.” He threw his head back in laughter, in a way that people do when they can relate to what you’re saying. I knew by that time that this parking garage was a joke, so I knew he would get mine.

I walk inside the M&BC and begin to look for signs to Piper Breast Center, which I assumed there would be,  since I was directed to that particular parking garage.

Nope. 

I look at a map. Huh. Piper Breast Center is not even on the same side of the street as the M&BC. Well, shit, I better get moving because my check-in time is at 11:45 and I parked my car at 11:35. Go go go. 

So I started walking quickly in the general direction of Piper, figuring I may have to ask for directions along the way if I don’t start to see “Piper Breast Center This Way” signs. Which of course I don’t.
I stop an Allina employee and ask for directions. She looks around, a little confused, but gives me directions, which eventually send me to a door that says “Employees Only.” Great. I ask another Allina employee where Piper Breast Center is. He doesn’t know.

Okay. It’s 11:50 and I’m late for check-in. No panicking, I tell myself. I can figure this out. Look at a map. Get my bearings.  Start walking.

I hope I’m getting closer when I stop at an information desk and ask the employee where Piper Breast Center is. “Uuuummmmmm………” is the first answer, which is not encouraging. She sends me on my way with new directions, which end up with me walking out a door to your landscaping rocks, looking at a chainlink fence in front of another parking garage.

Suddenly, I realize the door I just came out of is closing behind me and is probably going to lock, so I SPRING for the door and catch it right before it closes. Phew!! I literally thought I was going to be trapped outside and going to have to scale a fence. Does this seem comical to you yet?

Okay, so I’m back inside, it’s 11:59 and I’m starting to freak out. I walk and walk and get to a dead end within the hospital and I ask a nearby woman if she can point me to Piper Breast Center. She says no. I burst into tears, certain I’m going to miss my appointment and this clot in my leg is going to dislodge and kill me and I’m going to die right here on your ugly tile.

She’s very, very kind and explains she’s been hired as a photographer for a patient but she will find me help. I follow her into an office, where three Allina employees listen to my trouble. I stand there with tears streaming down my face as I listen to the three Allina employees bicker about how to get to the Piper Breast Center. As they’re trying to figure it out, I turn to the photographer and say, “Can you believe this? Not a single person can get me to Piper.” Her eyes are wide and she slowly shakes her head as she sees for herself why I'm a basket case.

After more discussion, one of the employees starts to lead me down the hall. She stops, turns to her two co-workers and says, “Wait, where?”

Oh my god. I am going to die here among all this life-sustaining equipment. 

Another says, “It’s okay, I’ll just take her.” And she did. Sort of. She got me to a set of doors and gave me more directions for once I got through those doors. You can imagine by this time, I had zero confidence in any of your employees’ directions, but behold! I walked up to the registration counter, crying and sweating, at 12:10, a full 35 minutes after I parked my car.

The funny thing is, since this was my fourth trip to Abbott in four months, I went there thinking, “Okay, I am NOT going to get lost for 20 minutes like the last few times. Pay attention, note where you park, watch the signs, follow directions…..” I didn’t think there was a way I could get lost a fourth time. But as it turns out, when you have an ant maze with no signs and really friendly but totally unhelpful employees, people are kind of screwed.

In the 12 hours since I experienced this, I have relayed this story several times to a chorus of, “Oh, I know, Abbott is the WORST,” “I ALWAYS get lost there, thank god you weren’t having a heart attack!” and the like.

While educated and articulate, I will admit I don’t have a great sense of direction. But since not having a great sense of direction is suuuuuuuuuuuuuper common among people, I’m curious why you’ve designed your hospital in a way that it’s suuuuuuuuuuuuuuper rare?

A typical response to a complaint like this is to blame the one who came forth with the complaint. “Well she just had a bad day,” “This surely doesn’t happen often,” “Why didn’t she ask for directions sooner?” and the like, all ways to try to deflect and deny and blame me. Me, who showed up 10 minutes prior to my check-in time. Me, who travels extensively for work and has never gotten lost or turned-around in an airport once (they have a LOT of signs, you see). 

I’m asking you here to not respond this way. This was not isolated – My husband, Dr. Will Howes, and I showed up at your same facility two months ago for my surgery. We got there early but got lost. By the time we found the registration desk, we were late and I was even more stressed out about the urgency of being lost than I was about the surgery. You have an abysmal reputation for navigability within your campus among the people I've talked to and for a hospital, that is a serious f***ing problem. (Again: if you haven’t already, Google “Second Body Found In San Francisco Hospital In One Week”)

This situation would have been obnoxious in most scenarios. But in a hospital? This situation is DANGEROUS and needs to be fixed right now. 

The punchline to this whole day was when I was charged $6 to park. It was the insulting icing on the cake. I left your hospital feeling like nobody cared and “just give us money and go away” is the general attitude. Can’t wait for my real bill!

In all sincerity, though, if you are reading this sentence, thank you for taking the time to read this letter. I felt this needed to be told, but that won't do a thing unless it's heard.

Tauni Howes