Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 4/25/22
This week’s Monday Morning Update discussed an EHR outage at two of Tenet Health’s hospitals in South Florida. Apparently Tenet didn’t like the media coverage from WPTV and suggested that a story about the downtime be removed. The story covered a patient’s concern about potential medical errors during the outage, with Tenet complaining that suggesting a downtime could result in medical errors is “preposterous.” As a physician who has been in the trenches for more than two decades and who has been through enough EHR downtimes that I couldn’t begin to count, I’m speechless at the thought that downtimes aren’t problematic.
I’ve been up close and personal with a downtime-related medical error in my career, and the situation certainly would have been different had the EHR been online. It was a bit of a perfect storm-type situation. First, I was a relatively new hire still getting used to the processes at a new urgent care employer. Second, due to someone calling out sick, I had been rescheduled from my usual location to a different site, which added a baseline level of stress to the day since I was working with an unfamiliar team. Third, due to a pre-existing diagnosis, the patient I was seeing for a fever was unable to contribute to the history of the presenting problem and was combative during exam, which is tremendously stressful.
After my initial attempts at history-taking with family members and a brief exam during which I detected no emergent problems, I ordered some laboratory studies and moved on to see other patients. When I left the patient, he was pacing around the room and showed no signs of being in distress or in pain.
At some point before the tests were resulted, the EHR went down. As a new employee, I was unfamiliar with the downtime process, but knew there should be one. I asked if there was a downtime binder or how we were supposed to handle it. The clinical team lead was resistant to instituting downtime procedures, giving excuses along the lines of “the EHR usually comes back in a few minutes” and “it really makes a lot of paperwork if we try to go to downtime procedures.” Knowing that creating paperwork is the point of a downtime procedure, I pulled some paper from the printer and began writing my own SOAP notes and documenting what I could.
I remember having probably half a dozen patients on the board that I was seeing. I tried to move them through the process while begging for a paper prescription pad so I could write discharge medications and keeping a clipboard with sticky notes on it as a tracking board to help me remember what patient was in what room. Lab results were being printed from the instruments on little slips of receipt paper rather than flowing through the interface to the EHR. The results were in an unfamiliar format, with the individual tests being out of order within a panel and the reference ranges being difficult to read. Despite the downtime, the staff continued to room new patients and expected us to move forward. I was surprised by that – none of the patients were emergent, and as a walk-in urgent care center it would have been within our rights according to state regulations to stop taking new patients.
I was managing patients the best I could and providing written discharge instructions that I was typing in Microsoft Word and printing two copies so we could scan them later. For my patient who had a fever, there wasn’t anything apparent on the exam or on my review of the labs that could have been causing it, so I recommended close follow-up at home and told them what to look for. This was during the usual season for viral illnesses, and in many patients, the illnesses begin with fever but don’t always declare themselves with other symptoms for a day or more. Since the patient couldn’t describe his symptoms and the exam was difficult, I didn’t suspect anything serious.
Every one of my hand-typed discharge instructions included my best recollection of the practice’s standard disclaimer, which would have been automatically applied by the EHR had it been online. It was something along the lines of “Your examination at XYZ Health today is limited by the capabilities of this urgent care facility, which does not include advanced imaging or moderate complexity laboratory testing. If at any time you feel your condition is worsening, we recommend that you be re-evaluated at the nearest hospital Emergency Department.” I reviewed this instruction with the patient (who could not verbalize understanding) and his adult caregiver, who said she understood.
Two days later, I was called before the practice’s owner and yelled at for “letting someone walk out of here with those abnormal labs,” because by that point, the patient ended up having a significant abdominal infection that required surgical drainage. I explained that at the time I saw the patient they had no features of a serious abdominal process and reviewed the examination that I had documented on my handwritten SOAP note. I was then asked to review the documentation that had been keyed into the EHR after the downtime ended. There it was, in bright red — an abnormal lab value. I had missed it when looking at the receipt-paper printout in an unfamiliar format and with confusing reference ranges. It wasn’t a critical value, but it was abnormal enough that it might have made me think about additional potential diagnoses, even if the physical exam didn’t point me towards an abdominal cause for the fever.
In reviewing the patient’s course, he hadn’t been taken to the emergency department for more than 12 hours after I had seen him, which wasn’t a guarantee that the process requiring surgery was yet present when I evaluated him. Usually if patients have a significant infection in their abdomen, they’re not likely to be pacing around the room – they are completely still on the exam table, and you can hardly touch them. Still, I couldn’t help but second guess the factors that went into my care of the patient – the unfamiliar staff, the new location, the downtime, and the patient’s individual characteristics and presentation.
I explained to the now shouting and red-faced CEO that this wasn’t a normal visit under normal circumstances and that I didn’t have the luxury of having the abnormal lab highlighted in red in the EHR during the visit because there wasn’t an EHR during the visit. He seemed surprised to hear that. Even after he admitted that the EHR downtime was an issue and there’s to way to know if my care contributed to the problem, I agonized over the situation. Several peers reviewed the chart and had no additional suggestions, but that certainly didn’t make me feel any better.
The bottom line here is that EHR outages are difficult. They raise the potential for medical errors in a number of ways. They add stress to already overwhelmed staff. They remove safety checks that we’ve come to rely on. They increase cognitive load as clinicians look at data in unfamiliar formats. They reintroduce illegible handwriting to the environment. They also create time pressures when they end and staff is forced to key in data while they proceed forward with their usual assigned tasks.
I’m fortunate that the patient in this scenario had an uncomplicated hospital stay and there were no long-term consequences of the event, either for him or for those who cared for him. However, the long-term psychological impact on me as a physician makes me never want to encounter another EHR downtime again.
What do you think about Tenet’s comments regarding EHR downtimes? Leave a comment or email me.
Email Dr. Jayne.

I dont think anything will change until Dr Jayne and others take my approach of naming names, including how much…