Archive Page 140

Everything Goes Through Me

On an ordinary day last month, I saw patients for eight and a half hours. I addressed a dozen computer messages, took four or five calls from outside providers and held innumerable curbside conversations with medical assistants, case managers and colleagues.

I didn’t get to any of the 100+ lab results or 50+ documents in my electronic inboxes. Consequently, the care for several dozen of my patients didn’t move forward.

Many of them didn’t get the news that their blood tests, mammograms or CT scans were normal; some never got scheduled for follow up visits to discuss options based on their mildly abnormal studies; a few didn’t get their highly abnormal tests acted on. Others didn’t get their annual eye exams logged in their diabetic flow sheet.

This happened because I am the official bottleneck by virtue of the “work flow” dictated by our electronic medical record.

My last office note might say “Follow up to review results”, but if I am late getting through my inbox, the clerical task of scheduling that appointment doesn’t happen.

It’s a little bit like having me answer our clinic’s telephone, or, a presumptuous analogy, the President opening the Government’s mail and then forwarding each item to the proper cabinet secretary.

Because every piece of data in a medical office has an ordering provider or a provider of record, it seemed like an EMR no-brainer to send everything to that person. But I think someone forgot that the current primary care business model is based on each medical provider cranking out as many visits per day as is humanly possible. That makes desk work a money losing activity.

With all the talk about having everyone in the medical office work to the top of their license, I think it is high time we turn the virtual mail sorting work flow on its head:

Have non-providers check incoming reports and lab test against existing treatment plans with cut-offs for when to interrupt providers, and give the provides more time to provide care and make medical judgements. A lot of information comes in to the primary care office just so we can maintain a record of patients’ care. It isn’t necessarily imperative to have the physician read a seven page specialist report to find one relevant medication change that needs to be updated in a patient’s record. That is what we used to call secretarial work in the old days, but that word and concept, dear Health Care Industry Comrades, seems to be taboo these days.

So, back to my reality: Last night, after cleaning the horse stalls, I spent almost two hours going through my backlog of reports. At least I was able to do my work from home, in the company of my horses, but I keep feeling that on a daily basis I am making up for a system that isn’t all that well designed.

The Illusion of “Other People’s Money”

The problem with healthcare, and drug prices, in America isn’t that we spend too much money. The real problem is that we believe we are spending “other people’s money”.

Yes, I was raised in Sweden, but no, I’m not a Socialist. But the irony is that “free” healthcare there is more clearly understood to be directly financed by local(!) taxes that can go up if people in that region consume more healthcare. Here, nobody really knows what anything healthcare related actually costs, or who pays how much, so how can we really care about the cost of healthcare?

Here, most health insurance is financed by employers, and I don’t believe the average American worker is lying awake at night worrying that his family’s medical bills will eat into the corporate profits of his employer. And even if American workers bear some of the costs of their health insurance, the relationship between how much healthcare they consume and how much their portion of the insurance premium will go up is less than obvious, depending on who else is insured in the same risk pool as each particular worker’s employer sponsored insurance.

The Swedes have, in spite of their minimal churchgoing, a set of ethics that relates their personal choices to the impact they have on society as a whole. They recycle batteries instead of throwing them away, they worry about air pollution – so much that it is illegal to idle your car for more than 60 seconds, for example when the bridge over the canal in my home town opens to let a tall ship through. My former countrymen also care deeply about how waste in the healthcare system can affect the availability of healthcare for vulnerable people.

Another thing they are more sensitive about than we are over here is corporate greed. The examples on this side of the Atlantic are so many, and occur so frequently that we soon forget each individual case. What we do retain is the regrettable sense that healthcare is a dirty business where someone is always taking advantage of someone; providers cheat Medicare, insurers cheat patients, drug companies cheat them all.

What we need in this country is a moral wake up call, whether that comes as a crisis or a disruptive innovation. It is obvious that Government regulation and oversight has done relatively little to reduce the “Wild West” behavior and mentality of the big players in our “industry”.

The first thing we need to do is scrap the concept of health insurance, because insurance is when something expensive but unusual and infrequent is paid from a pool of money that a lot more people pay into than withdraw from. In America today, everybody draws from that pool of money, even for things that are completely predictable, like having a baby or even an annual physical (except if you have Medicare, and then you get a Wellness Visit, but that’s another story). That means every single transaction of healthcare in this country becomes a profit center for one or more types of middleman, who most of the time adds little value but draws handsome revenue from what they do.

If we are trying to cover everybody for everything, let’s call it what it is, Socialized medicine. But are we ready, today, for a society where we all stop and consider the common good before we ask for that MRI, “just to know what’s going on”, or where drug prices are negotiated between a “single payer” like CMS or each State Health Department and the drug companies?
I believe the citizens of my adopted homeland prefer to have more freedom of choice than a Socialist system usually offers, and I believe that by having both the ability to choose and the responsibility to pay for services, we can make the healthcare value equation come out more even.

And, I’m sorry, but if we reign in the excesses of insurers and drug companies, American patients may act more responsibly, but as long as the gauging, fraud and abuse continue to be rampant in the industry, there will be no loyalty between patients and “the system”.

Then, our only hope will be a post-apocalyptic Direct Primary Caree model, which is just as American as the corporate model. Come to think of it, maybe even more so…

Don’t Ask Me to Work for the Other Side

As a physician with a strong sense of calling, I always see myself working for each patient, regardless of who pays the bill. Following in the footsteps of role models like Hippocrates and Osler, how could I do anything else?

Ted Ross has been my patient for decades. He can’t seem to lose weight.

John Jackson has admitted he doesn’t know how long he can keep doing the kind of work that has supported his family until now.

Ted is a long distance truck driver. He needs a DOT physical. Because of the new requirements, he will probably need a sleep study to rule out sleep apnea. If he fails, he could lose his job, because we all want to feel safe on our highways.

John came in with back pain the other day. As I filled out the Workers Comp M-1 form, he sighed “this may be it for me”.

John told me his back started hurting when he lifted a washing machine at work. As long as his employer’s Workers Comp carrier doesn’t challenge the claim, he’s covered for medical costs, rehabilitation and disability income, possibly even for life. If it had happened at home, on his own time, he would not be entitled to anywhere near the same benefits.

Medicine is a very personal business. A trusted provider hears more than a stranger and his or her words have more impact. Our patients assume we are there to help them. But sometimes we are put in a position of working for someone else, against our own patients.

In Ted’s case, I won’t be the one to tell him that his job is on the line because of his obesity. When the new requirements and certifications for performing physicals for the Department of Transportation went into effect, I simply didn’t pursue them.

In John’s case, as the treating physician, I have to file regular reports with his employer’s insurance company, and every test or referral I want to make has to be approved by them. If I keep him out of work longer than they expect or prescribe more pain medication than the average situation requires, I get a call from an insurance company nurse whose job it is to bring my treatment in line with their expectations.

It is impossible to overlook the fact that his employers Comp carrier is trying to direct John’s care; they are the ones who pay me for each one of his visits.

If other life circumstances come into being while I am treating him for his back injury, I have to be very careful not to spend too much time talking about them, and I certainly can’t put any of it in his record, since every Comp visit goes to the insurance company for review. I have to constantly remind patients that a Comp visit is a legal document, to be used in what amounts to a case of litigation.

If I could help it, I wouldn’t treat Workers Compensation cases for the same reason I don’t do DOT physicals: I never want to represent an authority or institution that can be seen as the opponent of patients I need to have a therapeutic relationship with.

If John’s Comp carrier were to claim that since he went to the Cityside Hospital emergency room with low back pain after a minor car accident ten years ago, he had a preexisting back problem, his medical expenses could bankrupt him. He has a high deductible health insurance. If he can’t go back to work, he will have 26 weeks of reduced-pay short term disability benefits. After that, he’d have to apply for Social Security Disability, which could take several years.

If Ted loses his DOT certificate, how can I be effective as his personal physician with my signature on the document that cost him his career? And if he were to commit suicide, as some middle aged men who lose their jobs do, could I counsel and care for his wife and daughter?

I often think about my native Sweden in cases like these. I saw many things that frustrated me when I worked there after graduating from medical school, but they didn’t have one level of health and disability benefits for injured workers and little or no help for people who got hurt on their own time. That is a pretty arbitrary and inhumane way of stratifying health care.

If you’re hurt, you’re hurt, regardless of whose fault it is. (I’ll tell you about Sweden’s no-fault medical malpractice payments some other time.) And if you seek help from a doctor, you expect the doctor to be working with your best interest in mind. And if the society you live in doesn’t take good care of people who are sick or injured, you may have trouble accepting that your doctor is putting the good of “society” or “the system” before your most urgent needs to put food on your family’s table.

The Meaningful Use Paradox

Our clinic is worried about qualifying for this year’s Meaningful Use incentive payments. We have this hastily purchased EMR that was supposed to make life easier and quality better for all of us. The EMR vendor got paid a long time ago but we are still dealing with the administrative burdens imposed by our new system.

By attesting that we can use this thing reasonably properly, we can receive some Government incentive monies, which even under the best of circumstances don’t even begin to make up for all the extra expenses and productivity losses we have incurred through going digital.

What we are up against is a product that doesn’t do, or doesn’t easily do, what we were told it could. And the vendor isn’t working real hard to help us achieve Meaningful Use.

I know how things could get better:

Every quarter, impose a rebate of 25% of each EMR purchase price, paid by the vendor to each practice that isn’t able to use their product as promised. That would place the problem where it belongs, instead of with the hapless consumer. I think that would speed up product improvement and tech support a whole lot.

Compare today’s struggle to achieve Meaningful Use with what happened with faulty General Motors ignition switches, exploding Takata airbags and polluting Volkswagen diesels. Nobody blamed the consumer for such problems.

Why, then, are medical providers held responsible for having bought, under pressure, less than functional electronic medical records?

Make the EMR vendors attest instead of us!

An Anniversary of Sorts

Theresa Miller is one of the hardest working women I know. She doesn’t come in to the office very often. She no longer needs my prescription for her heartburn medication, as it costs less for her to buy it over the counter these days.

Today I saw her for a preoperative clearance. She had decided to finally get her chronically sore shoulder operated on. She had injured it many years ago, and in spite of the heavy physical work she does, she has managed to live and work with her pain and limited range of motion until now. She never took a pain pill in all the years I’ve known her.

“I figured as things slow down for the winter, it’s time to deal with it. I’ve got ten more years before I’ll want to be done working, so it’s an investment”, she said as I opened up her record in our EMR.

I asked all the usual questions about chest pain, heart palpitations, shortness of breath on exertion and so on. Her answers were quick, to the point and full of her typical down to earth determination.

As I listened to her lungs, I remembered the first time I met her and her husband. They had moved to our area from Connecticut earlier the same year. He had become ill with cancer, and I had agreed to do a housecall one Saturday after my morning clinic. He died at home a few months later, and I saw Theresa only occasionally after that.

“You know”, she said after I removed my stethoscope from her chest, “sixteen years ago last weekend was the day you came to se Ron. It was Thanksgiving weekend.”

I hadn’t remembered that it was just this time of year.

“We talked about it this Thanksgiving, among the family, how unique that is, to have a doctor do housecalls like that”.

“Around here it isn’t”, I said. “Maybe Maine is a kinder, gentler place than Connecticut.”

“That’s what my sisters just said”, she answered.

Sixteen years ago, I thought to myself, I was a father of teenagers, the millennium was almost new, Y2K never really happened, the World Trade Center still towered over New York, and life seemed almost innocent that Thanksgiving. Except for the newly diagnosed cancer in the man who had so recently brought his wife to Maine for a better, gentler life, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city.

Life in medicine is never without sorrow. Today had a twinge of it, too.


I just realized none of the posts show on an iPad or a computer, but they do show on an iPhone. WordPress is working on this. In the meantime, please visit my Substack.

 

 

Osler said “Listen to your patient, he is telling you the diagnosis”. Duvefelt says “Listen to your patient, he is telling you what kind of doctor he needs you to be”.

 

BOOKS BY HANS DUVEFELT, MD

CONDITIONS, Chapter 1: An Old, New Diagnosis

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