Rick Nelson and Claude Peck dispense unasked-for advice about clothing, relationships, grooming and more in a weekly dialogue.

RN: I've been in a few hospitals lately, visiting ailing pals, and I'm here to tell you that what I saw made me sick.

CP: All the ill people? And their grieving relatives?

RN: Heck, no. I was getting a migraine and an upset stomach from the bad design. Seriously.

CP: Hospitals spend gazillions on the latest, outer-space MRI machines and other high-tech gizmos but scrape by on the cheap, ugly and outdated when it comes to decor.

RN: Yeah, I know, my priorities seem misplaced. I mean, how many millions of Americans are without health-care coverage, and I'm going on about window treatments? Still, after getting lost in the dreary corridors of one major Twin Cities medical facility, all I could think of was a line from the 1980 movie "The Mirror Crack'd." It was Kim Novak's voice in my head, and she was paraphrasing, "I could eat a can of blueprints and puke a better hospital."

CP: Ouch. You should try it -- and christen it the Richard Hoark Wellness Center.

RN: At one facility -- I shouldn't name names, but what the heck: North Memorial -- I sat in the cafeteria in a kind of nausea-inducing wonderment. "A professional actually designed this," said my friend, as we took in every last depressing detail. Oy, and the food, don't get me started. This is a place that cares about nutrition? Although it's way worse at Abbott Northwestern, which features a McDonald's -- a McDonald's! You'd think they'd partner with Brenda Langton, of health-conscious Cafe Brenda and Spoonriver. Perhaps the Golden Arches are there for expediency's sake: After scarfing down a couple of Big Macs, it's just a short stroll to the cardiac unit.

CP: Abbott also has a pretty good cafeteria in the lower level, I should point out.

RN: It scares me just a little bit that you know that.

CP: But have you tried navigating that sprawling complex of old and new buildings? The signage alone at Abbott is a bewildering welter of confusing directions to wings, levels, specialty areas and remote elevator banks.

RN: I know. Once I was able to decipher the tacky signage at another Twin Cities health-care facility, I had to marvel at the acute visual nightmare that was my friend's room. Who could possibly recover in a place like that? For a moment I thought that my pal had been mistakenly checked into the Precious Moments Wing.

CP: I suppose it's tough to design around the need for a sterile environment (ix-nay on the dust ruffles and drapes), but still. A teal-and-brown color scheme could send your average patient straight to the ICU. When my mom was in the hospital last summer she ordered us to hang a towel over a framed print that faced her bed. After staring at it for two days, she became convinced that the golden-hued barn scene was out to get her. I could not disagree with her assessment. And don't even get me started about the lighting scheme.

RN: This is why I called Mary Jo Kreitzer, director of the U of M's Center for Spirituality & Healing. She said there are more than 600 studies that emphasize the healthy correlation between design and wellness. She mentioned a few Twin Cities hospitals that are doing it right, including Abbott Northwestern's shiny new cardiac unit and the new Woodwinds Health Campus in Woodbury. "Woodwinds had the luxury of building from the ground up," she said, but then mentioned that the design-savvy facility's cost per square foot was less than that of most new hospital construction. So good design is also good for the bottom line. She referred me to a fascinating website: takingcharge.csh.umn.edu/therapies/environment/create.

CP: Sounds like she's fighting the good fight, but I fear she has an uphill battle.

RN: You're telling me. The Design Within Reach folks should open a medical division. They'd make a fortune.

Click on W.G.'s weekly podcast at www.startribune.com/withering. E-mail W.G. at witheringglance@startribune.com.