Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 6/16/14

I’m sure those of you that follow me on Twitter were wondering what could possibly have happened last week to make it one of the strangest days of my career. In retrospect, it wasn’t just one of the craziest days of my IT career, but of my physician career as well.

My hospital is part of a larger health system. When have to have a representative on some kind of IT-related committee, I am usually tapped to attend.

We’re a decent-sized organization with plenty of employed physicians. One of my CMIO friends in a similar situation has employer-paid medical co-payments to encourage staff to see the physicians in their group. Another offers their “associates” early access to office appointments that aren’t available to other patients. Theoretically, when you’re caring for your own people, it should be like a miniature accountable care organization and might give you insight into the best way to maximize health and lower costs for a defined patient population.

I have to admit I am way behind on my email and didn’t read the agenda for our Emerging Technologies meeting prior to heading uptown for the session. I’m barely keeping my head above water and didn’t think it was a big deal because usually the topics are things I can handle on the fly. This time, however, I was seriously wrong.

The meeting happens over lunch and I was trying to grab a quick bite while scanning the agenda as people arrived. One of my IT colleagues thought he was going to have to perform the Heimlich maneuver after I started choking on my salad.

Apparently our brilliant “ET” group decided to bring in a third-party solution for “advanced access” to physicians. Unfortunately, it’s a telemedicine solution staffed not by our own physicians, but by others in the market. As the meeting started, a glossy marketing slick was passed around. I thought it might be some kind of Friday the 13th prank until I realized they were serious.

Our human resources department wants to roll this out as part of our benefits package in the fall. They wanted to vet it with our group as far as our thoughts on HIPAA and other regulatory issues. The health system would pay a fee to the vendor, which offers “doctor visits anytime, anywhere!”

I’m not opposed to the concept of virtual visits, but I’m truly surprised that we wouldn’t give our own physicians the opportunity to not only serve the employee community, but to maybe make a little extra cash as “advanced access” physician resources. Given the recent draft policy from the Federation of State Medical Boards regarding telemedicine, we would be ideal. We’re licensed in the states where most employees live (and are usually located), so that’s easy. We already have unified medical liability coverage, so that’s easy, too. We also have a vested interest in keeping our collective employees healthy as a means to strengthen the community.

I also like the idea of employees being able to receive care without disrupting work schedules, although the service promises access to physicians “at home, at work, or anywhere you need care.” We have enough issues with staff using cell phones to take care of personal business in patient care areas and don’t want to encourage them to talk about their medical issues in the workplace. There aren’t a lot of private places in most of our ambulatory practices (the physicians don’t even have private offices any more) so I’m not sure that’s a benefit.

What really got me was the assertion that the third-party physicians would become “your doctor.” Are they really advocating conducting a longstanding patient-physician relationship established via smart phone? Are they going to be accessible 24/7 to handle all the health issues that typical patients should be addressing with their personal physicians? What is their plan for continuity of care?

I was trying to see the other side of the equation. Maybe they were worried about patient privacy. Employees might not want to see network physicians because their records would become part of our central database. That’s certainly valid. Maybe they were worried about accessibility and that’s a factor, although more and more of our employed practices are extending their hours and providing walk-in accessibility. Maybe they think offering this will differentiate us as an “employer of choice,” as the HR people like to describe it.

One of the other physicians at the table who wasn’t distracted by lunch managed to access the telemedicine website and find out more about it. Apparently they’re willing to partner with healthcare organizations to involve their own physicians, but our HR department didn’t think that was important. They figured they’d just offer it to our employees with the existing provider network because that would be faster.

I wonder if they seriously considered the public relations and morale repercussions of offering our staff having virtual visits with providers from a competitor health system. I’m sure the various medical executive committees at our hospitals will have a field day with this if it moves forward. That’s likely to happen since HR didn’t seem to understand our objections or find them valid. One of the physicians actually got up and walked out. The rest of us stuck it out, if for nothing else than to gather information to help inform our next steps.

Since we’re a technology committee and we couldn’t find any significant technology objections (I have to admit their setup looks pretty slick), it’s likely to move forward. I’m interested to see what the hospital administrators will think since it will likely have an impact on their bottom line.

I’d be interested to hear from organizations who have done something like this, including whether your providers participated or whether you used an existing or external network. We’re having a discussion with the vendor in a couple of weeks, assuming roadblocks aren’t thrown up in the interim. I’m putting together my list of questions and “what if” scenarios for the meeting.

Got ideas? Or alternatively a potential job with a seaside location? Email me.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 6/9/14

I mentioned that I was planning to start working in an urgent care that documents patient visits on paper. I fell into an opportunity with an independent facility and worked my first shifts this week. A reader asked if I had mentioned during the job interview that I would be blogging about my work and whether I’ve been able to remain anonymous in my various work roles.

The answer to the blogging question is “no.” I enjoy my day jobs and wouldn’t want to jeopardize them. Although I share many stories about my work, there are a great many stories that don’t get told because they might result in specific people or organizations being identified. Some of the best tales will go with me to the grave.

A reader once said that as a CMIO, I’m still a doctor, but my patients are sick hospitals and physician offices. That’s true to a degree and I guard their information as I do with patient information. Often my material reflects events that are so common they could apply to many organizations across the country, so camouflaging the events and players isn’t necessary.

As far as my clinical duties, I do think I’ve been able to remain anonymous. Frankly most clinicians in the trenches are too busy keeping their heads above water to even know that there’s an entire health care IT community out there. They may not know who their own CMIO is or what he or she does, let alone that there are scores of us who know and talk to each other. The idea that there would be blogs talking about EHRs and the people who use them to torment physicians isn’t even remotely something that would cross their minds.

If I use photos from work, it’s often months after they were originally taken or in a slightly different context than where I obtained them. I have a veritable treasure trove of photos I’ll never be able to use because they would be easily identifiable or involve people that I know read HIStalk. I also use photos that have been sent to me by readers when they can help embellish something I’m writing about. Hopefully if anyone recognizes those, the story is different enough from their reality that they don’t make the connection.

Back to the world of paper records. I arrived at the office ready to go. It’s a little different vibe from working the ER. The lack of a metal detector and security guard was refreshing, although I admit after my first procedure, I missed wearing scrubs.

The physician I worked with was quick to show me the processes and systems. Staff does the intake interview, gathers the history, and performs any needed pre-testing based on a written standing order. The clipboard goes in the door with a magnet to indicate which patient should be seen next. Simple and elegant, although low tech.

The physician sees the patient, documents on a paper template (they have a dozen or so templates for their top conditions plus some more generic versions), then comes out and order whatever additional tests are indicated. If there aren’t any, we prepare the discharge instructions and prescriptions, which are done via computer. The prescription ordering system isn’t sophisticated, but it does have hard-coded selections for the most common drugs, sortable by body system and diagnosis. If you can’t find them, there’s a search dialog, and if you get in a real bind, there’s a paper script pad in the drawer.

I have to reiterate that this is obviously not a practice that is trying to achieve Meaningful Use. As an opt-out site, we’re not asking super-detailed questions about smoking history or the types of tobacco used. We’re not asking race and ethnicity. We’re not codifying problems in SNOMED. Since we’re not part of a hospital system or accredited by The Joint Commission, we’re also not spending time assessing suicide risk, nutritional status, or any number of possibly irrelevant scenarios on all our patients. This leaves us time to actually see our patients at a reasonable pace.

Even though the first part of the shift was fairly busy (5-6 patients per physician per hour), the pace didn’t seem extreme. I think mostly it felt like I was able to focus on the patient’s current needs and not feel expected to address unrelated issues just because someone made a regulation that said I needed to.

Once the provider is finished, the nursing staff then takes the discharge instructions and scripts, goes back in the exam room, counsels the patient, and addresses follow-up needs. Then the patient gets to go home. Their plan may not have all their medications printed on it nor their list of historical diagnoses, recent vitals, or a host of other things, but it does have the information they need to care for today’s problem and to follow up with their primary care physician.

Up to this point, I’ve focused on the things that made today easy. Let’s talk about what made it difficult.

The first thing that jumped out at me was the fact that there is no drug or allergy checking when we write prescriptions. Although physicians have used paper scripts for years and there are plenty of people who argue that we were better on paper, I can’t help but think that I’m going to harm someone because I don’t have technology backing me up.

I calculated most of my weight-based pediatric prescriptions two or three times because I didn’t trust myself. I had one pharmacy call-back for prescribing a drug that might have had a mild to moderate interaction with a patient’s current medication. I know it would have flagged in an electronic prescribing system, but I’m wondering if there is a chicken vs. egg phenomenon going on. Did I miss the interaction because my vigilance was weakened by my reliance on technology? Or would I have missed it anyway?

I ended up customizing 80 percent of the patient education materials to include additional precautions or information that I like to provide for my patients. Most EHR systems would allow some level of saved customization. but our discharge system doesn’t. I’ll likely create a text document of common phrases that I can use to populate them in the future and just keep it open on my desktop.

Unlike some chain or pharmacy-related urgent cares, we don’t have an easy way to send information back to the primary care physician. It’s something that definitely merits discussion with my new employer.

Looking at the workflow with a critical eye, there were other inefficiencies. Staff had to transcribe lab data to the chart that might have been interfaced with an EHR. Patient education topics had to be searched manually rather than linked from diagnoses. These inefficiencies were virtually unnoticed, though.

Having done more than one stint as a science fair judge, I can’t say this was a valid experiment of any kind. Comparing this practice (regardless of whether it uses paper or EHR) to any other place I’ve practiced in the last several years would be like comparing apples to unicorns.

One major difference is the ability to focus on the patient’s presenting problem rather than extraneous but required information. Another is the encouragement to rely on support staff for tasks like order entry and diagnosis code lookup. It’s been so long since I was just able to articulate a diagnosis without codifying it that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Whether it was due to the workflow process, the patient acuity mix, or other factors, I noticed one thing. Even after 12 hours of non-stop work, I felt like I had spent more of my day being an actual physician than in doing other tasks. We’ll have to see if I still feel this way in six months, but right now I’m cautiously optimistic. I’m still going to lobby for e-prescribing, though.

Have a story about going back to the basics? Email me.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 6/2/14

I haven’t been on a job interview in years, so I didn’t really know what to think when I found myself getting ready for one a few weeks ago. Since giving up traditional practice, I’ve worked in a variety of part-time and locum tenens primary care situations. I’ve also done part-time work in several emergency departments. I’ve worked directly for hospitals and also for staffing companies hired to populate the ED. It really doesn’t matter where my paycheck comes from – patients are patients and we care for them the best we can.

Due to a couple of regional shakeups with ED staffing companies and posturing by competing health systems, I recently found myself without a place to hang my clinical hat. My own hospital has decided that unless you are board certified in emergency medicine, you can no longer cover the ED (unless you’re a midlevel provider — then you’re OK to work as many shifts as you can cover.)

I find it ironic that they’d rather have a nurse practitioner straight out of training then a seasoned physician who happens to be certified in a non-emergency specialty. It’s less ironic, though, when you understand the real reason, which is as it always is, the bottom line.

Anyway, to take any kind of leave of absence is a pain. Unless you have an active practice address, you’re expected to surrender your state controlled substance license. They won’t let you just transfer it to your home or to an administrative office. I know this well because I got caught in the trap before and it took months to untangle. We received a 90-day notice that our contracts would be ending, so the race was on to find new positions.

Unfortunately, there were about a dozen other physicians in the hunt. Most were looking for full-time positions, though, so I had a bit of an edge being willing to work the odd shift here and there rather than needing a primary income.

I also have the edge of being sassy and single, which means I don’t mind working holidays or providing late-night coverage. In fact, I like the late nights. Usually the nursing staff has a better sense of humor and there are definitely great stories that come out of the ED after 11 p.m. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my CMIO duties, I’m up for it.

In a turn of serendipitous events, I was cold-called by a recruiter who was given my name by a friend of a friend. He vetted my profile using LinkedIn and thought I might be a reasonable candidate. A local urgent care was preparing to open a second location and needed additional coverage while they recruit full-time staff. Just my speed: low acuity, reasonable patient volume, not a terrible commute, and fair pay. And so it was that I found myself on my way to a job interview.

I explained my situation to the owner – that I have a full-time job but enjoy seeing patients on the side and am looking for a way to continue doing both. He asked me a lot of questions about being a CMIO. We talked about his PACS and the patient education system.

I became a little suspicious when the questions about standalone e-prescribing systems started, so I finally just asked what system they’re using. He kind of laughed and told me not to worry, the learning curve is about 30 seconds. I wish I could have seen my face when he handed me the clipboard.

I haven’t used paper in what seems like forever. Even during downtime I didn’t do formal paper documentation, but rather took a few notes to document in EHR later. I suppose it’s probably like riding a bike, although I think the combination of computerized PACS and discharge system with paper charting might feel a little strange. Part of me decided I wanted to work there just to see what going back in time would be like. At least they use templated paper forms, so it’s not like I’ll be writing SOAP notes from scratch.

I start in a couple of days, picking up a few hours after work one night to get used to the system while they’re fully staffed with other physicians. I’m most worried about getting to know the staff, figuring out the informal processes that aren’t documented anywhere, and trying not to make rookie mistakes.

I admit I’m a little nervous, though, not to have the backup of prescription error checking and clinical decision support, not to mention the convenience of e-prescribing. I had to dig through my storage area to find the leather prescription pad holder I received as a medical school graduation gift. Maybe to go full circle with the old-school vibe I’ll have to get myself a fountain pen.

Here’s to new adventures and hopefully a slow first shift. I’ll let you know how it goes. The monogrammed white coats have already been delivered, so there’s no turning back. I hope everyone stays well, but if you happen to find yourself at an urgent care with a sassy physician carrying a hot pink clipboard, you might want to do a double take.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 5/26/14

Several readers emailed about last week’s EPtalk, where I shared my frustration with CMS and the constantly-changing game of Meaningful Use.

Dear Dr. Jayne,

I’m sorry for how you feel about CMS and long for days of old when $5 got you a doctor visit at home. I’m 76 and have been on Medicare for over a decade. From a patient viewpoint, it beats big payers hands down. One little card with a red, white, and blue stripe gets you everything from any healthcare system, any physician, no referrals, no one ever asks a question, and, if you have a gap insurer, you almost never pay a nickel. As I recall, CMS gave every doctor $44,000 to buy an EMR and every hospital a lot more. I’m sure over $50 billion was given to providers and now CMS wants something in return. Sounds reasonable to me and almost rare that the government can’t be accused of a giveaway.

I think a lot of MU requirements are off target as to need and value. Most EMRs are off the mark in architecture, workflow, and value. So, we have the equivalent of a 1.0 standoff, but at least it is a start. Hopefully by 2.0 both the MU and EMR will have both evolved to a better place. This will take at least a decade and the practice of medicine and the technological advancements during this period will make the current systems look like stone age work.

Don’t give up on Medicare and CMS; make it better. The alternatives are much less attractive.

Sincerely,
Spirit of ‘76

Dear Seventy-Sixer,

Speaking as an Eligible Provider, I can confidently state that CMS hasn’t “given” us anything. It’s true that up to $44,000 each was available to eligible providers over a multi-year period. For most providers in my community, however, it cost far more than $44,000 to dot the “I” and cross the “T” of each Meaningful Use requirement. Even in the first iteration of Stage 1, providers had to meet 22 objectives (several of which have multiple subcomponents). For many physicians, this meant overhauling practice operations. Unfortunately, I’ve seen a lot of box-checking at the expense of clinical quality. When providers go to file their attestation, it’s all or none in nature, which creates a great deal of stress on caregivers and staff.

I’m glad you have had such a positive experience with Medicare. Patients in my community aren’t as fortunate, as many physicians have stopped accepting Medicare assignment or are limiting the number of Medicare patients they see. CMS has many coverage and medical necessity rules and my patients are spending a lot more out of pocket than some of them think is fair. We’re still in a recession and quite a few patients have been forced to drop their supplement plans or have chosen barebones coverage that they don’t like. Those who have gone on Medicare Advantage plans hate the narrow networks and further limitations, but like the cost.

Speaking of cost, going back to what it costs to implement an EHR. Looking at HealthIT.gov for numbers, they list the five-year total cost of ownership (estimated average) as $48,000 for an in-office system and $58,000 in a software as a service model. That doesn’t include practice losses during implementation or ongoing loss of efficiency, the need to add additional staff to manage all the metrics, or hiring contractors and attending classes just to make sure one understands all the maze of rules.

I agree with you that necessary change will take a decade. Unfortunately, CMS only gave providers half that time to accomplish ever-changing (and sometimes obscure) goals involving elements beyond their control before the penalties kick in. I hope there are some primary care providers left when the dust settles. I’m seeing my peers retire in droves and there aren’t enough new hires to fill the gaps, increasing patient wait times.

Sincerely,
Jayne

Dear Jayne,

What do I think? Well, I’m glad you asked. I have just spent about four hours reading, digesting, and summarizing in a document I can share internally what this could mean. Then again, it might not mean any of what I have summarized. Theoretically depends on public comments.

This has been such a frustrating process for everyone. I work with providers and healthcare organizations. There was so much confusion with the 2014 CEHRT requirement already. This will undoubtedly make it so much worse. For some EPs, it could be a life preserver – several vendors aren’t CEHRT yet. Maybe the 62-year-old provider I met with last week (whose EHR vendor wants him to sign a 10-year contract for their patient portal) will be able to delay and shop some more. Perhaps another client I work with won’t be forced to purchase a CQM module and sign a three-year contract by June 1 or be faced with missing MU Stage 2 this year because the vendor won’t have them upgraded in time.

Waiting the 60 days for public comment, however, will be like trying to fly stand-by the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. If you get the flight, all will be well and you’ll spend the day smiling and toasting your good fortunes. If you don’t, you had better be scrambling to figure out how to thaw a turkey overnight. MU and a turkey – it’s a good analogy!

Sincerely,
Apple Pie Fan

Dear Pie Fan,

Thanks for writing. Your thoughts reflect those of many people I’ve spoken with this week. The potential delay doesn’t mean anything if it doesn’t go through. If you wait for the final rule and you didn’t guess right about its content, you’re going to be caught short. In the mean time, everyone has to push forward as if there will be no delay.

I really like your turkey analogy. In contrast to CMS, however, Butterball has a turkey hotline you can call for actual answers.

Sincerely,
Jayne

I’m not sure how many readers we will have given the Memorial Day observance. I hope you were able to spend time with loved ones and took the opportunity to remember those in the armed forces that made the ultimate sacrifice. If you’re wondering about today’s picture, it’s courtesy of Smithsonian.com and was taken at the site of the Battle of the Somme. There are several other haunting images that show the scars that remain even after 100 years.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 5/19/14

Outside of healthcare, very few people understand what a CMIO does. Usually when I meet new people I explain that I’m a doctor, but I work in the information technology world. If I get a totally blank stare, I might go on to say I work on the electronic records systems that hospitals and physician offices use.

Some will ask why I’d want to give up the money and excitement of being a physician. I suspect they don’t have any idea of what being a primary care physician actually looks like. Occasionally someone will ask me if I can help them with some home networking problem, which I find pretty funny that people assume that everyone “in IT” knows how to do desktop and network support.

Inside the hospital, I’m not sure that many physicians actually understand what we do either. They know we’re the people to call when they have complaints and that we’re usually the figurehead telling them they have to do something for Meaningful Use or CMS audit purposes. Physicians may not understand the role we play as their advocate or the depth of the battles that we fight on their behalf.

I’m not sure our role is always fully understood by the IT teams either. Some analysts think we’re just super-nerdy physicians or that we had to leave full time practice for some reason. Others are afraid that having a physician on the team means that we’re going to try to call the shots or be the boss all the time. Frankly there are some days that I’m not even sure what I do. Teams work more effectively when they understand where the various members are coming from. In that spirit, here’s a week in the life of a CMIO.

I started Monday with a half-day of teach-back training for a couple of our new implementation team members. Our organization is a stickler for making sure that training is consistent and reproducible so that no one can complain that he or she didn’t have every opportunity to learn the material. As part of that process, I deliver train-the-trainer sessions for the team.

Some of our team members come from non-clinical backgrounds. It’s important that they understand the training scenarios and clinical pearls we incorporate for our end users. Having that knowledge helps them build credibility and trust with the end users. They’ll also shadow other members of the training team so they can see various presentation styles before it’s time for them to start deliver their own sessions independently.

Over lunch, I returned a couple of phone calls from cranky colleagues who don’t understand why we won’t customize the system for their individual needs. Although our EHR is template-rich, it lacks content for some of our subspecialty physicians. They all have access to voice recognition so they can dictate narrative as part of their notes, but some are insistent on wanting click-the-box type templates.

From experience, we can build them whatever they ask for and they still won’t like it, so our bent has been to steer them to using dictation, but creating macros and templates to make it even faster. One of them agreed to try our standard approach but the other was more skeptical, so I convinced him to shadow one of his colleagues and see how well it can work. I’m cautiously optimistic.

The afternoon was filled with a mountain of email that had built up from taking Friday off. I make it a habit to not work on the weekends unless it’s an upgrade situation or a critical outage. I hope setting that example for our team means something, but I still see entirely too much correspondence originating during the off hours. Maybe it’s time for another work-life balance discussion with a couple of them.

Tuesday began early with the hospital credentialing committee, which is always somewhat of a snoozer. I appreciate the need to have medical staff committees, but they can be pretty dry. In a world where I preach the gospel of working to the top of the license, it’s hard to justify having 10 physicians sit in a room and make decisions that would be quite amenable to the committee equivalent of a refill algorithm or a standing order.

After that, I had a meeting with one of our physicians who is interested in our open associate medical director of informatics positions. He’s qualified, but reluctant to give up any of his current duties to make it a reality. Somehow he thinks he can just fit it in, and that’s not going to be the case. I keep trying to explain that we’re not going to put someone in a position where they’re destined to fail, but he isn’t getting the message. I’d really like to add him to the team, but you can’t just squeeze 16 hours a week of informatics work in between patient appointments.

I met in the afternoon with our project team to run through the presentation we’d be doing for our bi-monthly steering committee meeting on Wednesday. The budget numbers looked a little funny, so we had to dig into the reports and the time-tracking system, which is never fun. It turned out to be some operating expenditures that should have been capitalized, but it took forever to find the discrepancy.

In between meetings, there is a steady stream of email, requests to visit practices, and occasionally help desk tickets that providers want escalated directly to “a real doctor who will understand.” Most of the time those end up being user error or training issues, but they take a lot of time to explain, reassure, and arrange for retraining when needed.

Wednesday can only be described as Meet-a-Palooza. We started with the steering committee. One of our hospital VPs must be reading some kind of leadership book because he was all over asking hard questions just for the sake of asking hard questions. Although no one of them stumped us, it drives me crazy when people use meetings to try to make a name for themselves. Following that was our regular project leadership team meeting, followed by an implementation team meeting, which I usually sit in on so I can stay on top of any practices that are having difficulty with EHR.

I hid in my office with the door closed during lunch because one of our junior analysts has decided he wants to go to medical school and is driving me crazy. I think he’s watched too many episodes of “Grey’s Anatomy” and his expectations are completely unrealistic, but he’s persistent. Unfortunately he didn’t like biology or chemistry in school, and although he has a masters in health information management, his undergraduate major was political science. He’s not willing to concede that he’ll have to go back and take all the science 101 classes, so until he does, I’m avoiding him.

The afternoon’s scintillating meetings included: monthly clinical quality measures review; MU status review; new provider on-boarding; and a red-hot discussion of whether or not we should pay our providers to attend training (we don’t, but they always ask us to).

Thursday is my work from home day, which is the only day I can get anything done. I had a couple of presentations to prep – one on change leadership that I’m submitting to present at a conference, the other for a local residency program on the business of healthcare. I was able to get them mostly done, but I like to let them rest for a week or so then revise, so I’ll be back at them again. In the afternoon I worked on performance reviews. Although I don’t have any direct reports, our organization believes in a 360-degree evaluation, so I end up doing reviews of most of the implementation team and support analysts. I can only do a couple at a time before my brain shuts off, so I punctuated them with some gardening, which was pretty therapeutic.

Friday I met with our testing coordinator to review the test plan for a new specialty we’re bringing up. She’s going on maternity leave soon and I suspect she won’t be coming back, so we’ve been spending time making sure we document the process we use to evaluate new content, build scripts, and ultimately test new content. Although that will make on-boarding her replacement easier, I hate to see her go. We’ve had too much turnover in that position and I’d like to find someone who will stay for the duration.

Next it was on to our monthly ICD-10 update for senior leadership. The delay has taken the wind out of our sails. I wish someone would just cancel the meeting for a couple of months and then we can pick it up full steam, but instead it languishes on the calendar and doesn’t have a real purpose. It’s not my meeting, though, so all I can do is suggest a different path, and when we run out of agenda items, be the one to recommend we adjourn early.

Friday afternoon I came full circle with the implementation team, this time being the student instead of the teacher. I have to say I was impressed with how quickly they were able to pick up the material and how well they did. We cleared them both to go out into the field and work with seasoned trainers. They’ll initially just shadow and assist with the hands-on portions, but over the next month they’ll start teaching parts of the new employee sessions until they’re eventually teaching the entire course with another trainer as backup. By mid-June they’ll be out of the nest and on their own.

I always end Friday by looking over my calendar for the next two weeks. It gives me an idea what I need to focus on for the coming week and lets me see any conflicts or major issues in the one that follows. Sometimes our administrative assistants get a little cavalier with our schedules, so if we want to be able to breathe or eat during the day, it pays to be proactive. I realize they’re trying to squeeze every minute out of the day and respect what they do, but ultimately I’m the one who looks bad when I’m absent or late due to an overcommitted schedule.

Some weeks are different, but many are the same but with just different meetings and different cranky colleagues. When we’re close to a major upgrade, it looks completely different, with much more focus on the new version but with all the same standing meetings continuing. It can be quite the juggling act at times. Nevertheless, I enjoy doing what I do. But sometimes it’s just easier to be “the doctor who works in IT.”

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 5/12/14

Mr. H recently asked the HIStalk Advisory Panel to weigh in on how the ICD-10 delay will impact their organizations. My organization had asked me to put together an impact statement, but I was waiting a few weeks to see if CMS issued a final date. Now that we know it will be October 1, 2015, we can start quantifying the costs. Some of them are fairly straightforward, but others are a bit more nebulous.

Like many of the Advisory Panel respondents, we will have a fairly significant cost for retraining physicians. We had already started many of our employees through a training program. Although initially it was informational and high level, we were set to accelerate rapidly into the summer. At this point, we have placed all training on hold and will plan to start from scratch again next January.

One of our training strategies included interactive Web sessions which are invoiced monthly based on our number of licensed providers. I was pleased to find out that our legal department had inserted a clause that addresses any delay of ICD-10, so we won’t be losing much on that contract. We’ll see if the vendor tries to renegotiate, however.

We had planned to have additional last-minute training sessions provided by contractors in September. We won’t lose much on those, either. The vendor involved doesn’t charge for cancellations that occur with at least 60 days’ notice. Given the fact that we’re going to have a longer training window, I doubt we’ll need those resources for the next go-round.

One of our major costs, however, will be the training that we’ve already put into our existing coding staff. Although the majority of our ambulatory physicians are expected to do their own coding, there are some subspecialties (particularly surgical) where coding staff are deeply involved. Additionally, we have our internal compliance and audit teams. We had already sent those teams through specialized training and they may need a refresher. Due to their specialized training and knowledge of our organization, we had provided retention bonuses for several of them to stay at least through November. Given the fact that many organizations will be retraining, I suspect their value will continue to increase and we’ll likely be extending those retention payments.

We will also have increased upgrade and testing costs. Our upgrade plan was pretty straightforward since our ambulatory vendor’s ICD-10 version is also their Meaningful Use 2014 version — we were planning to kill two proverbial birds with one stone. We had already done the majority of the testing and the code is already in production, so we thought we were home free. Now we’re going to have to take at least one if not two updates prior to ICD-10, which means more testing. Worst-case scenario, there could be more updates, because it seems like every time CMS issues a new FAQ or refines an existing answer, our vendor has to create a hotfix.

I feel bad for our vendor. As a high-visibility client, I have come to know many of the senior development team members personally. I know they have agonized over the hours they put into meeting certification and regulatory requirements and the fact that those projects have cut into clinical and usability issues. Even though they’re a vendor, I know they don’t have an endless pot of money or endless resources. Hard choices had to be made. There were a few times in the past few years where I sat on focus groups with other clients to discuss various development initiatives and rank potential work, so I know directly how much consideration went into those decisions.

That opportunity cost will play forward to our providers as lost functionality. I know our vendor has plans to use this honeymoon period to shift back to usability enhancements and adding functionality. Although this is a good thing, I would bet that due to the increased regulatory and certification complexity, they will take more time to deliver new features. We’ll be playing a game of chicken to decide which updates to take based on existing vs. future features and the testing timeline as we approach October 2015.

In my mind, though, one of the more significant issues isn’t really quantifiable. I’m not sure how much of an impact it will be. Many of our providers now assume we are on a slippery slope towards skipping ICD-10 altogether. I had forgotten everything I learned in middle school about voice votes vs. roll call votes, but the nuances of how the actual legislative timeline unfolded on this one have been an interesting read. I’m not sure if Congress used this as a deliberate jab to undermine the very clear statements by CMS on there being no delay or if they were just oblivious to the nuances of the ICD-10 portion of the bill. Who is to say that some crafty legislators won’t sneak something in later?

The only good news I’ve heard out of Washington recently is the reopening of the Washington Monument after being damaged by the 2011 earthquake. I’m a big fan of our National Parks and had visited shortly before it was closed. I hadn’t been aware that half of the $15 million restoration was funded by a private contribution and was pleased to learn it was completed on time and on budget. Maybe something inside the beltway can be done right, after all.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 5/5/14

It’s time for another update in my ongoing saga about the physician group that our health system purchased. We’re in the process of preparing them to upgrade to the 2014-certified version of their EHR software. Initially, they balked at any suggestion of retiring their custom content. Our team has been diligently working on them and has convinced them to agree to approximately half of our recommendations.

At this point and given their resistance, I can get on board with half. It’s certainly more than none. Through discussion of their actual needs and observing their workflow, we’ve even identified a handful of customizations that we’re going to advocate that our vendor incorporate into the product out of the box. Ultimately, what allowed us to get the agreement we achieved was the idea they will be piloting the changes for a couple of months after the upgrade and then we’ll revisit them.

We added the pilot approach when we sensed they were stuck in analysis paralysis. The reluctance of the identified physician champions to make decisions was palpable. They feared backlash from their colleagues and claimed to be unable to reach consensus.

I’ve been through this enough times to know what kinds of darts their colleagues might start throwing, so I was happy to offer myself as a virtual human shield. If using the larger health system as the scapegoat for required change is what it takes to move them ahead, so be it.

Now that the decisions are made, it’s time to get their build underway and start preparations for testing and training sessions. I’m grateful the build will be fairly easy. Although large in number, most of the customizations are very easy. If we get in a bind on the timeline, we can always bring in contractors to knock it out quickly. As for the testing requirements, though, I think we’re going to be in for another fight.

Typically we bring in key end users to help us with testing. That way we can ensure that any unusual workflows they’ve come up with get put through their paces using the new software. Over time, we’ve aggregated many of these scenarios for our physicians into test scripts that our analysts can use to replicate their workflows.

The new group is a little bit of a mystery. though. I’m sure there are plenty of aberrant workflows we’ve yet to discover, so having access to their actual staff will be essential.

As we suspected, they didn’t want to let us pull anyone out of the offices or create a situation where overtime might be needed, so we had to get a little creative. I was able to pull together data from our previous go-lives and upgrades and convince them that if they let us leverage the users now, they will need less training right before the upgrade.

It still seems somewhat contrived that we have to produce data to convince them of a proven solution. I just have to keep reminding myself that they’ve come under our umbrella under circumstances that were less than willing.

I know there will be culture shock when they experience our training program as well. We require not only attendance, but participation in our sessions. Users are expected to demonstrate competency before they are signed off.

We use both written and practical evaluations for non-provider users. Providers are expected to demonstrate mastery by replicating 15-20 past patient encounters in the new system. Ideally I’d like to get them to do more, but we’ve found that’s about all we can get them to agree to.

We find that when users have completed a certain number of scenarios, they are able to get back up to speed more quickly in the days following the upgrade. It’s not rocket science – it’s a simple matter of practice.

Nevertheless, we often have physicians who fight us about the need to practice. It’s difficult to help them understand that documenting quickly and accurately in EHR while preserving the integrity of the patient visit is a skill, just like anything else they do. They wouldn’t try a new procedure on a patient without supervised practice.

Some of them try to tell us that they didn’t need any special training to document on paper. Although I’d agree that they didn’t need “special” training, they did need training. As medical students, we wrote hundreds if not thousands of patient notes, notes that were critiqued by our interns, residents, and attendings. Those of us in employed practice models had our notes further critiqued by coding and compliance auditors as well.

We plan to have our first testing and training event in a few weeks. We’re bringing in the non-physician staff first and will do our best to make the sessions not only educational, but fun and interactive. By winning their hearts and minds, it should make for an easier battle when it’s time to address the physicians.

I always like to bring homemade goodies to user events and this won’t be any exception. Right now this quick bread (made with an insane amount of butter, sugar, and sour cream) is a leading contender. Despite the calorie count, I can at least pretend it’s a health food. After all, it’s got bananas — how can it not be?

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 4/28/14

Death of a Practice

I wanted to be a physician from a very young age. Most people find that interesting because no one in my family is a physician or even in the healthcare field.

Going into junior high school, my best friend (who eventually became a nurse) and I became candy stripers, starting our healthcare careers. My first memory of a physician who didn’t make me cry was the kindly general practitioner my parents took me to after our pediatrician retired. He was the kind of doctor who kept his patient records on index cards (they were 4×6 inches) and wore a reflector on his head – old school.

Flash forward to second year of residency, when most primary care trainees start looking for a job. I had a potential offer from the medical group affiliated with the hospital where I was training. I had seen too much from the inside, though, to really want to work for them, so I decided to investigate whether that hospital where I first started was hiring any physicians.

In a stroke of luck, they were looking for someone interested in solo practice. I was offered a start-up in the small town where I grew up.

Their deal looked pretty good. Although technically employed during the first couple of years, the group allowed their sites to run like private practices and the physicians were on a largely eat-what-you-kill model. They were allowed autonomy over their practice except for certain office processes, which were paid for through a management fee taken off the top. Compared to hiring separate billing, compliance, OSHA, legal, HR, and other services, the management fee was extremely competitive.

I had rotated in one of their practices as a student and had seen first-hand how things ran. Two trainees ahead of me had taken jobs with them and everything was on the up-and-up. The non-compete was such that physicians could actually buy their practices and go private, staying in the same location, once they got off the ground. Coupled with the fact that they were willing to install an EHR at no cost to me and the fact that as a solo doc I wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else’s baggage, it was a done deal.

I had a lot of input on the office itself since construction had just started in a local strip mall. It was built for electronic health records from the beginning and was large enough to eventually house three physicians. The sponsoring hospital had done its homework and knew there was primary care demand in the community. We had people trying to make appointments more than a month before we were set to open.

I completed residency at the end of June, sat for the Board exam two weeks later, and opened the practice the following Monday. I saw nine patients that first day and never looked back.

I was proud to be part of the community. I had my own branding, Most people didn’t realize we were affiliated with the hospital. That was a big draw for some and gave us a certain pride of ownership I don’t think we would have had if we were visibly under the hospital umbrella.

Patients loved us being in the strip mall near a high-traffic intersection, glad they could park 20 feet from the door rather than having to use a parking garage or large lot at one of the hospital-based practices. I threw candy from a float in the Founders’ Day parade. It many ways, it was a dream come true.

My little office grew by leaps and bounds (“local girl comes home” is a powerful marketing statement.) Before long, I was ready to add another physician and eventually a nurse practitioner. The hospital sponsored several other start-up primary care practices, hiring a couple of my residency colleagues to help them build a troop of primary care docs to stay ahead of the community’s needs.

As for my site, since we were piloting the EHR system that the hospital’s parent health system planned to implement for all owned practices, I became pretty visible as an EHR champion. Eventually I was hired as part-time medical director for ambulatory EHR. One half-day a week at the IT office became two, then four, to the point where several years later I was only in the practice one day a week.

Eventually, patients’ lack of access to me became the topic of every office visit. Realizing it wasn’t good for the practice or my morale, one of our IT directors figured out a way for the hospital and IT to buy me out. It was a bittersweet decision to leave my little start-up, which wasn’t so little any more. We never turned an enormous profit, but we did break even and I had the opportunity to recruit my own replacement. It seemed like things were in good hands, so off I went to the land of IT.

The practice thrived until the recession started, the auto industry failed, and other heavy industry went to states with cheaper costs of labor. I had moved on career-wise, but still had enough connections to hear the updates on “my” practice. The staff was a little less busy, the bad debt write-offs grew, and the finances moved into the red.

The hospital president believed in primary care, though, and continued to subsidize the practice, knowing there was a need in the community (I’m not naïve — he also knew how many million dollars in ancillaries the average primary care doc drives to his or her preferred hospital.) And so the office stayed open.

Fast forward, and the hospital (now a major part of the regional safety-net rather than a community resource that drew patients through innovation and excellence) posted several major losses, sending its president to greener pastures elsewhere. Then one of the providers left for a higher salary, followed by another who took a maternity leave and never came back.

The hospital had a hard time finding a physician who wanted to care for patients with difficult socioeconomic challenges, especially when affluent practices with richer payer mixes beckoned. They weren’t willing to guarantee a salary that would have convinced someone to stay. I had last heard the practice was running with a single nurse practitioner who was supervised by a physician 20 miles away.

I found out today that the office is closing. Once I stood on the sidewalk with the mayor of our small town, cutting the “Grand Opening” ribbon with his giant gold-painted scissors. Now that sidewalk will lead people to yet another vacant quasi-retail space.

The provider who remains is being “consolidated” into a shared office on the hospital grounds, where physicians seem to land when they can’t get along with their partners or their practice loses too much money. Any trace of the office we worked so hard to build will soon be gone.

The economic reality is that no one wants to own small primary care practices any more. The work is hard, the hours are long, and the pay is less than other specialties. Hospitals stepped in hoping to lure primary care docs to their communities and solidify their slices of the revenue pie. Once they stop making money, though (which is often the reality of primary care in our current model,) it’s the beginning of the end.

Perhaps new payment models could have saved my little practice, but we will never know. Rather than having a family physician down the street or around the corner, patients will drive half an hour and navigate the maze of the hospital campus. They’ll probably be subject to a facility fee now, as I’m sure the remaining provider will be set up as a hospital outpatient department to try to eke out as much revenue as possible.

Even though I haven’t practiced there in years, I feel bad about it. I’m sorry that primary care doesn’t get the respect or compensation it deserves. I’m sorry that the hospital is no longer willing or able to subsidize valuable community services.

But most of all, I’m sorry for the patients. I’m grateful, though, for the time we had together, for the times I was able to help, and most of all, for the memories.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 4/21/14

Next weekend is my medical school reunion. Although I can’t make it, the fact that it is happening spurred me to try to re-connect with old friends and colleagues. Some are from med school, others are from residency, and a few are friends I made when I was a young solo practice doc trying to figure out how to fit into the medical establishment.

I had a nice chat with a friend of mine who is a pediatrician. It was interesting to catch up because her practice is different from what I see every day. Hers is a traditional group private practice, but they only take commercial payers – no state or federal programs. As such, they’re not on the Meaningful Use treadmill. They document in paper charts that are filed by family rather than individual – totally old school as far as most health information management folks are concerned.

I had talked to her several years ago when they were trying to implement the same EHR that we were rolling out to our employed physicians. They had purchased their system through a local reseller, hoping to get good service from people close to home rather than buying directly from our vendor who is headquartered halfway across the country.

Unfortunately that local reseller was purchased by another reseller who didn’t have the greatest track record for customer service and most of their local resources were let go or quit. Because of that situation (coupled with turnover in their practice leadership), they had halted their implementation after bringing the billing system live.

They were heavy admitters to one of our hospitals, so I did a courtesy consultation to provide some advice on how to proceed. I talked to them about working with their reseller to come up with a phased implementation plan that would help them transition slowly since they weren’t in a huge hurry and had multiple older physicians who would need convincing and a lot of hand-holding.

We had run into each other in the newborn nursery almost a year after that, so I knew they continued to struggle with the system and ultimately went back to paper, although they were doing well with the billing system.

When I caught up with her a few weeks ago, I learned that they had made the decision to replace their entire system. They never got the EHR off the ground, largely because the older physicians perceived the software as too complicated and too clicky. They had not taken any upgrades since their initial installation in 2009, so I can see why they thought that – early versions of the software were indeed clicky and it wasn’t easy to save physician-specific defaults and preferences.

The practice had tried to re-implement on that version even though our vendor had since rolled out a redesigned user interface that vastly improved the workflow. She said that due to a lack of confidence in the reseller coupled with the physician resistance, they were afraid to take any upgrades.

They decided to go with a specialty-specific product, rolling out the practice management system first without any kind of conversion from their previous system. For a busy practice with nearly a dozen physicians, that surprised me – not even a demographic conversion. They went live on April 1 and every patient had to be re-registered, whether they were presenting for an appointment or calling in.

They made no adjustments to the schedule to accommodate the change because the providers refused to risk a revenue loss. As a result, they are running hours behind by the end of every day. Talk about an April Fool’s Day joke! Needless to say, no one is happy – the providers, the staff, or the patients.

Patients are complaining about the registration process because they have to provide information they didn’t previously, specifically race, ethnicity, and preferred method of contact for patient reminders. Sounds familiar! I asked her why they’re doing that since they’re not attesting for MU, don’t participate in any research or quality programs where those fields are needed, don’t do email or texting, and it’s not required by payers in our area (yet). The answer: those fields are required in the system and can’t be turned off.

I asked her how the system handles other information that may be needed for MU but not for the way the practice currently delivers care. She has no idea. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are plenty of other required fields that they’re not going to be happy about once they start implementing EHR.

I asked what their plans are for that. She didn’t really know whether they plan to implement EHR in 60 days, 90 days, or a year. There’s no burning platform, but I would expect a partner to at least have some kind of understanding of the group’s strategic plan. I asked about the family charting – which is very different from individual charting – and she had no idea how they plan to resolve that, either.

I’m sure I was giving her some funny looks during this discussion because my brain was positively spinning. They’ve traded one system (where at least they could have turned off those required fields) for another with no long-term plan for whether they’re simply converting to paperless charts or whether they plan to use an electronic health record to transform care.

I suspect that as time passes they’ll find themselves in substantially the same position they were in six months or a year ago, except they’ll be paying down another initial investment. I didn’t ask about the cost of the new system, but I hope that at least their monthly software maintenance payments are a little less. Until they start having some serious conversations with all the physicians though about what having an EHR means to them, what they want to get out of it, and how they plan to go about it, there is the potential for some serious unhappiness down the road. They’ll be doing the same dance but with another vendor.

Although they were never stressing about Meaningful Use, they were having mild heart failure over ICD-10 and were very grateful for the recent reprieve. As a relatively small single-specialty group, their transition will be less complicated (and hopefully less arduous) than some of ours and I wish them well. Given their payer mix and patient population, some of their challenges are different from those faced by my practices on a day-to-day basis, but many are the same. I left her with some good discussion points for her next practice management meeting and a promise to check in more frequently to see how they’re doing.

There are a fair number of physicians and practices in the market for replacement systems. I wonder what percentage of those purchases are truly from system deficiencies (including lack of certification)? I’d like to compare that to what fraction of them are due to a lack of understanding around how to successfully transition to electronic health records coupled with a vendor who is unable/unwilling to take a hard stance with its customers to force them to do things in a manner that will make them successful.

Are you in the market for a replacement system? What makes you think it will be different the second time around? How are you planning to do things differently? Email me.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 4/14/14

I wrote last month about our health system purchasing another physician group in a bid to strengthen its primary care base for Accountable Care activities. The IT team is always brought into the acquisition phase too late, which is a shame. Our ability to identify potential issues and prepare for a smooth transition is always forgotten until we’re later asked to deliver a miracle after the ink is already dry. That was the beginning of my “pastry therapy” sessions, which have progressed significantly.

At the time, my biggest worry was figuring out how to get them through the EHR upgrades needed to get their first-timers ready to attest for Meaningful Use. My team was tasked with preparing for the upgrades, which is a standard duty for us. In reviewing what they had done to the EHR, I was entirely unprepared for the volume of customizations they have put in place. I was also unprepared for how ridiculous some of them are.

They have a robust EHR that allows creation of custom workflows even though the out-of-the-box workflows are pretty solid. This is good for customers who have specialties the EHR doesn’t cover, but not good for customers that use the EHR as a means of managing physician behavior.

After several weeks of reviewing their content and consulting with our development, training, and support teams, I was ready to meet with the combined medical leadership of our two organizations with a plan to gradually bring their workflows to our standard so that eventually we can convert them onto our database. (Initially the Powers That Be wanted an immediate conversion, but I was able to convince them we couldn’t do it on the timeline we have.)

Allowing for a slow retirement of their customizations would allow us to make two smaller steps rather than one giant leap, which I felt would be better for physician adoption and user acceptance. The first move would happen with their upgrade to the EHR version certified for 2014 and would involve addressing customizations that either impaired MU data-gathering (such as creating custom fields rather than using existing vendor fields that feed canned reports) or didn’t make sense (extra navigation buttons that cluttered up the screen and distracted from important clinical data.) The first step would also allow them to get used to our training style and expectations so that next time we can just use our proven franchise model with them.

The second step would be the true move onto our content, although we’d keep them on their own database until the dust settled. The final step would be to perform a relatively quiet migration a few months later.

Although the overall plan would take more than a year, we felt it would adequately balance the need to keep the volume of change manageable with the fact that we aren’t getting very many additional resources or dollars to pull this off. Although we’re going to assimilate their IT and training teams, we quickly discovered that they only had a rudimentary knowledge of the software since they had referred nearly all their changes out to consultants and contractors. We’ll have to retrain them not only on the product, but also add some discipline and critical thinking to the mix if they’re going to stay with us.

Our meeting with the medical leadership started out well with them nodding at all the right places as we presented the high-level plan. They agreed in principle, but it started turning ugly when they began asking about which specific customizations we planned to retire in the first phase.

My ever-OCD development manager quickly produced a spreadsheet. Her team had carefully catalogued every customization on a template by template basis with helpful information including why we recommend retiring it and what the proposed replacement workflow would be. They also attempted to gather information on why the changes were made in the first place, but for the vast majority, there was no compelling business case that any of the analysts could remember.

I was proud of my team for pulling this together in such detail on a tight timeline, especially when they had absolutely no documentation to work from. They literally had to do a visual inspection of each part of the workflow because our new partners apparently had never heard of a build specification document, let alone an approval tracker or anything else.

We began to work through the spreadsheet and were immediately stopped by our new colleagues. For every item we proposed retiring (even if it was actually contrary to the stated goals of meeting Meaningful Use, being an ACO, and providing quality care) they had an excuse why we needed to keep it. Many of the excuses took the form of, “This is something Dr. Jones really needs,” but they couldn’t provide any concrete reasons to back their statements.

After a dozen or so of these exchanges, it became apparent that rather than only modifying the EHR when it was deficient, they had been using EHR design changes as a way to appease cranky providers.

I’m all for modifying the EHR when it’s needed – if it’s truly deficient, if the workflow is inadequate, or if you are trying to document a specialty that’s not available from your vendor. Our group has been at this nearly a decade and all our customizations have a robust business case and have been vetted through a formal review process. We have design standards that keep pace with our vendor, so even when we customize, it appears seamless to our users.

We also log every single customization with our vendor so they know there’s a deficiency, defect, or workflow need. We can’t fault them for not designing to meet our needs if we haven’t told them what our needs are. Often we find that in the process of logging an enhancement request, the vendor is already coding what we want in their next version. We can make our customization look like what they’re doing so that when we upgrade, it is truly seamless.

I finished my mini-lecture on rational customization. The folks on the other side of the table just sat there with blank stares. They clearly either weren’t buying what I was selling or simply didn’t care.

Pulling out my best behavioral health “motivational interviewing” skills, I tried to get them to at least acknowledge a need to change even if they didn’t like it. It became obvious that they are scared to death of having to actually deal with their peers, let alone actually manage employed physicians.

Our trainers are pretty tough, but if management is not going to help us lead the physicians through a meaningful change process, we are never going to be successful. What makes me the angriest, however, is that we’ve been through this. We know what needs to be done to achieve success. We were in the same place many years ago. We have a proven track record of not only bringing practices live, but actually achieving clinical transformation and improved outcomes. We also have been able to do this without a significant change in practice revenue or any loss of clinical quality.

Unfortunately, we’re now being faced with providers who have been coddled and apparently don’t know the meaning of being an employee. Rumor has it that some of them are so politically charged that they’re being paid above fair market value just to keep them from leaving.

With those kinds of forces at play, the idea of achieving standardization seems impossible. If we can’t get them to agree on EHR workflows, how are we going to get them to agree on clinical content such as order sets or care protocols for chronic disease management? Looking at the impassive faces across from me, it was clear that we’re going to have to bring some bigger guns to support us. I’ve scheduled a follow-up meeting with our CIO and CFO as backup, but I’m not optimistic.

There’s nothing in medical school or informatics training that prepares you for this. I’d love to be able to turn to some of my CMIO pals for advice, but the idea of admitting this level of dysfunction — even to my closest confidantes — makes me squirm. It’s good, then, that I can turn to my virtual colleagues for advice. Leave a comment if you have some words of wisdom.

For those of you who just want some pastry therapy, that was Martha Stewart’s Chocolate, Banana, and Graham Cracker Icebox Cake. I didn’t have any milk chocolate, so I pulverized and melted several dark chocolate Easter rabbits, which was therapeutic in its own right. I also left off the whipped cream topping that Martha recommended – it was a little too over the top for my primary care brain.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 4/7/14

I renewed my battle today with Big University Medical Center in trying to get my information corrected on its patient portal. Unfortunately, my efforts were derailed by a much more sinister problem – basic office chaos.

Luckily I’m a nice, stable patient so I only have to visit Big University’s outpatient clinic once a year. They run chronically late. I’ve learned to always schedule the first appointment of the morning so I can have a chance to make it to my own office before noon. I make sure to arrive on time if not early because they tend to triple (if not quadruple) book appointments and I want to be the first of the cohort to be roomed. I also bring plenty of reading material so I don’t go out of my mind when I inevitably end up waiting.

I shared the elevator with a member of the office staff who was reviewing a printed patient appointment schedule (including names, appointment reasons, and dates of birth.) I’m not sure why anyone would need to take home a printed schedule since they have a big-time EHR system with remote access and plenty of redundancy and they definitely shouldn’t have been reviewing it openly in the elevator.

I hit the floor 15 minutes early (as instructed by my appointment reminder that came through the patient portal) only to find the doors locked and six patients standing in the hallway. The weather was decent, so bad roads or traffic weren’t a viable excuse. They finally opened the doors just a few minutes before my appointment time and all the patients hustled to the check-in desk.

Since the office doesn’t use sign-in sheets (purportedly for HIPAA purposes) they told everyone to sit down and they would call us up in appointment order. Most of the patients were retirees and began grumbling. While we were waiting, we were treated (via the open floor plan check-in desk) to one of the receptionists chatting about some birthday party she was invited to.

By now, it was past the first appointment time and we got to watch her start up her computer, stow her personal items, then walk away. 

My process improvement brain had engaged. I decided to do an impromptu time and motion study. She was gone four minutes and came back with an open cup of coffee. I know there are no OSHA requirements about coffee at a desk, but there ought to be some rules about open liquids and eating around computers. Not to mention that slurping coffee in front of patients is unprofessional. 

The first receptionist had checked in two patients and had called me up before the second one was ready to start working. The receptionist apologized about my wait. I mentioned that their reminders tell everyone to come early. She said she knew it was a problem and they’ve asked to have the message modified several times because they don’t open early. They didn’t have a printed patient information form to verify, but rather read all our demographics aloud and asked for verbal verification.

I felt bad asking her about my patient portal problem and spared her the long story. I simply asked if they had a help desk number I could try before I left the office since all the demographics are correct at the practices where I’m seen but are wrong on the portal. The only advice she could offer was to try the help feature from within the portal.

By this time, they had four patients checked in. It was 15 minutes after the first appointment time (assuming I was actually in the first slot as I had requested) and not a single patient had been called back by the clinical staff.

I was placed in an exam room with the door left open. While waiting for the patient care technician to start my visit, I was treated to conversations about other patients coming later in the day, various people walking back and forth chatting about their weekend activities, and a physician who normally doesn’t work at the satellite location who didn’t know what exam rooms he should work from or who his assistant would be. Not exactly a vote of confidence for patient privacy or engagement.

Last year my physician had used a scribe to document my visit in the EHR. I figured at least once they would try to blame the EHR for the delays. As they started my visit, I realized they wouldn’t be scapegoating the EHR – the office had gone back to paper. The tech started documenting my visit on a photocopied paper template. She did reference the electronic allergies documented in the EHR and re-documented them on paper, so score one for patient safety. She also reviewed the previous note input by the scribe as well as a “backup” paper note that apparently was documented during my last visit.

I let her know I wanted to talk about a new concern that popped up in the three months I waited for my appointment. She responded by letting me know my physician was no longer caring for “routine follow up” patients and I would have to find a new doctor if the new concern didn’t turn out to be anything serious. I’ve already been handed off multiple times within this practice, so I’m no stranger to starting over, but I thought the timing was poor.

I finally saw the physician 45 minutes after my scheduled appointment. She remembered that I’m a member of the community teaching faculty for Big University and offered to keep me as a patient even though my new concern turned out to be nothing. I should probably feel grateful to not have to change physicians again, but I think I’m going to anyway. Their office is a mess and I get aggravated every time I go. Simple things like a) cutting the personal chatter while there are multiple patients waiting; b) being vigilant about behavior when the practice has an open floor plan; and c) manifesting obvious “hustle” when you know you’re late opening would go a long way towards reducing that aggravation.

Now they’re not using EHR any more, so my data isn’t available to share with other physicians. There’s not an advantage of staying there vs. finding a physician at one of the other institutions in town. If my records are going to be in silos, it doesn’t really matter if the silos are 20 miles apart or right next door. The clinic always posts a loss and blames it on the number of Medicaid and charity patients they see, but after several years of this routine, I’m fairly convinced that poor management has as much to do with it as patient mix.

I’ve never received a patient satisfaction survey from this location, but hope I get one today. I’ve got some choice recommendations to share with them, although I don’t think it will make much of a difference. It doesn’t matter how much we spend on IT or whether the systems have outstanding usability if we can’t get back to the basics and actually manage our offices, whether they’re academic clinics, private practices, or hospital outpatient departments.

Making sure that IT functions support our mission by synchronizing automated reminder messages with actual office practice, having help desk support for patient-facing systems, and ensuring staff come in early enough to turn their computers on before they start assisting patients are a must as well. There are numerous stressors on all our healthcare systems and personnel. We have to come up with ways to fix them.

Have any creative ideas? Email me.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 3/31/14

I wrote earlier this month about our hospital nickel and diming staff who wanted an actual paper card to confirm their life support certification. There was an outpouring of reader correspondence about hospital policies that are designed to cut costs but that seem to have backfired.

Many of us are pinching pennies to buy larger more powerful servers because we’ve outgrown our current ones faster than anticipated or are juggling implementation budgets to ensure providers get the go-live support they need. With that focus, we tend to forget how much our organizations spend on day-to-day operational costs. We’re not the only ones who have to keep an eye on the bottom line. One reader knows acutely just how deep the budget slashing has gone.

Dr. Jayne, I enjoyed your column about penny wise and pound foolish. Our hospital replaced a fairly decent paper towel with a very cheap brown one. These towels don’t absorb much, so you end up using five times the paper towels that you did with the previous rolls. Our department runs out of paper towels frequently and I have to run down to housekeeping to pick up more rolls. As it happens, housekeeping has trouble keeping paper towels in stock (maybe because the whole hospital is using the cheaper rolls much faster – go figure).

Many times I am unable to pick up paper towels the first time I run down to the supply department. When I pointed out the inefficiency of the paper towel situation (particularly with the FTEs spent running around trying to keep them in stock) in a cost savings committee meeting, the environmental services rep said, “You wouldn’t believe how cheap they are.” Hello? Did anybody hear me? It’s been a couple of years. We still have the same blasted paper towels. And let’s not forget – it takes FOREVER to dry your hands, but they want to encourage hand washing.

We’ve had a similar situation in the office building where our ambulatory EHR office is located. To save money, instead of having housekeeping staff check the bathrooms multiple times each day, they only service ours once a day. We don’t have rolled towels but those old-school folded ones. In order to keep the towels from running out, the housekeepers cram as many towels as possible into the dispensers. They’re packed so tightly that if you try to pull a single towel, it rips, so there are constantly scraps of paper on the floor.

The only way to get towels out is to hook them on the end and pull a big stack of them out. This leads to dozens of towels being dumped in the trash. Another tactic is for the housekeepers to leave a stack of towels on top of the dispenser, which leads to either all of them falling into the trash (or on the floor) or being ruined when someone drips wet hands on the stack. Ditto with leaving a pile of spare towels on the sink.

Additionally, because after-hours housekeeping is more expensive than having it done on the day shift, our floor is now serviced during the noon hour when lots of people are trying to get in and out. Some housekeepers will work around the staff’s needs, but a few of them barricade the door. In the best-case scenario, our staff wastes a little bit of time going to another floor. In the worst-case scenario they stand around and wait for the housekeeper to finish.

I’m pretty sure the productivity cost from either scenario would cover the shift differential so our facilities could be serviced before or after office hours. Either way the staff is left with the feeling that saving money is more important than their needs, which isn’t exactly a morale builder.

Another reader recently relocated and finally landed a position with a health system after a lot of looking. It was more of an entry-level position than he had when he worked for a large vendor. He expressed concern at the waste he’s seeing from a personnel standpoint:

I’ve worked with hospitals, but never for one directly. I didn’t want to miss out on ICD-10 and Meaningful Use 2 and there aren’t many vendors out here. I was blown away by the size of the IT department. There are more manager-types than doers. Everyone is a consultant and no one gives a hoot. There is a ton of turnover and no accountability. The consultants are riding out the sunset of their careers and take it out on the energetic ones. The SMEs have skills that no one wants and the six tiers of management exist solely to waste time and overcomplicate things. People vanish for hours a day and the place is empty by 3:15. What do I do now that I’ve taken a job and am surrounded by such inefficiency and waste when I really wanted to DO something?

Unfortunately, I don’t have good advice for him other than encouraging him to stick with it long enough to either move up or find something better in his new home town. I’ve worked with a handful of analysts that think it’s OK to arrive at the office late, Facebook all day (pausing only for a long lunch), and duck out early. I suspect that with that many layers of management they may not have a handle on what’s going on right under their noses.

With all the regulatory events on the horizon, though, most organizations have more work to go around than anyone can handle. Our analysts work their tails off, and if they have a spare moment of time, they’re looking ahead trying to anticipate ways that they can make processes more efficient or help our users. They’re a self-policing team and if there was a slacker in their midst, they’d make his life miserable. Unfortunately if the entire team has those tendencies, it’s much trickier.

Have any advice for this reader? Any other great stories of cost cutting that saves dimes at the expense of dollars? Email me.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 3/24/14

Mr. H posted some comments from the annual reader survey last week and one of the areas that people wanted to read more about was the patient experience of IT. As he mentioned, it’s difficult to get patients involved since they probably don’t read HIStalk, but the good thing is that all of us on the team are patients ourselves. I’ve had several recent adventures in patient engagement involving IT over the last few weeks.

Fail #1: I had mentioned before my ongoing issues with a large academic center and their patient portal. It’s a solid product, but I don’t think it’s being implemented or managed particularly well. I had an issue right after I signed up to use it where my last name was spelled wrong. It had been correct on the patient information sheet at the office, but was wrong on the portal. When I inquired about it via secure email, I was told I had “aliases” in the system and it couldn’t be corrected. A few weeks ago I made an appointment for my annual eye exam, and when the appointment confirmation came, I noticed my name was now spelled wrong in two different ways. Additionally, there is incorrect allergy information now posted.

There’s no way for me to fix it from within the patient record at the moment. However, it’s unclear if the product will allow that and they don’t have that functionality live or whether the product is that way by design. I called about getting it corrected and was told again that there are multiple “alias” accounts for me and that they can’t correct it. I have a serious problem with there being multiple accounts, especially since I’m only seen in one practice at the health system. Did someone create a duplicate chart? What’s going on? And why can’t they be merged if it’s a simple duplicate issue?

I brought up the fact that now I have incorrect health information present and specifically used the phrase “patient safety risk” multiple times. I asked them what the process is to correct the erroneous records and the answer from the portal team was “talk to your doctor.” I called the physician office and confirmed that my records are accurate in the source system. How can the physician be expected to clean up an erroneous allergy that she can’t even see?

I called the portal team back and told them that the source chart is accurate and asked them again for a process to correct it. They confirmed they have none. I then asked if I could withdraw consent for participation in the portal because I don’t want the erroneous information (how much else is there that I might not be able to see?) associated with my records or populated to another physician I might see in the future. Of course they have no way of closing my account. At this point it’s more an exercise in frustration rather than engagement. I don’t have hours to spend pursuing it, so I guess I will just let it go and continue to make sure the charts my physicians are using are accurate.

The bottom line is that systems (both the actual software and the policy/procedure associated with it) need mechanisms to handle issues like duplicate patient accounts, demographic errors, and especially medical errors. I’m floored that a major institution would be so clueless. After all, they have wait time billboards for the emergency department and sponsor the local sports teams, so they must be good, right?

Fail #2: This one is wrong on multiple levels. I went to a new physician for a fairly uncomplicated skin condition last December. Although I could have treated it myself, I’m not comfortable with calling out my own scripts and figured it would be good to establish myself as a patient in case I ever really need to be seen. This was in December. Last week I got a bill from the reference lab for the same date of service as my visit but for a surgical pathology charge. I called the ordering physician’s office and explained the bill and had them look in the chart.

Sure enough, there were results on my chart, but no record that I had been notified. Had they bothered to inform me of the results attributed to me, I could have told them that there had been an error. The staffer informed me that “it was benign, so we don’t call” and I let her know that “no news is good news” went out decades ago. She went on to look through the chart and saw that the lab had faxed (who still faxes these days?) a name discrepancy report. Apparently the name on the barcoded sample and the name on the electronic order the lab received were different, but the office corrected it incorrectly. I requested a call back from the physician, which I’m still waiting for.

I don’t want to get sent to collections for a bill I shouldn’t have received, so I called the lab. While on hold for 40 minutes, I had plenty of time to think not only about the potential source of the error (human error NOS, multiple episodes, probably staff had two patient charts open at the same time) but also about why it took 90 days to get the claim adjudicated and a bill to the patient. If we had real-time adjudication at the point of care, I could have handled the entire problem at the check-out desk and the sample would have gone out correctly. When a person finally took my call, I told them that I didn’t have a skin biopsy and wasn’t going to pay for it. They were nice about it and said they’d place a call to the ordering physician and get it taken care of.

My hospital is self-insured, although we do have a benefit administrator who processes the claims. I’m sensitive to the fact that the physician compensation model (small-business “eat what you kill”) has providers directly paying for the insurance premiums of their office staff because I used to pay those premiums myself. I wasn’t about to let $300 in erroneous payments go by, so I called the benefit administrator. The representative I spoke to told me that the physician performed a biopsy on me during my visit and I must just not have been aware.

Seriously? I guess I not only slept through the biopsy, but also the informed consent process and the actual consent form itself. It took me a full five minutes to convince her that I did not have a biopsy. I also told her that the office was aware of the problem and had admitted it, that I was just letting the insurance team know so they could recoup the payment since we’re self-insured and with the rising cost of health care, etc. She then helpfully let me know that they actually paid over $600 because there was another claim for a second biopsy I wasn’t aware of. Since it was paid in full, I didn’t receive a bill.

She admitted there would be no way to know it wasn’t accurate since it was the same date of service as my actual visit. I told her that’s why I was calling, to make sure that the payment was disputed so that the money would go back into the insurance pool because otherwise they’d be unaware of the problem. That’s when it got even more ridiculous. She told me that basically it was my word against the physician’s claim, and that unless I wanted to pursue written documentation of the error, there wasn’t anything they could do. She couldn’t provide a form or documentation of the actual information she needed – she was basically saying that there is no way for a patient to easily dispute a claim.

I reminded her (since she works for the benefit administrator and probably isn’t aware) that we are self-insured and I was trying to do the right thing getting the money rightfully returned. I let her know that the lab had already reversed my portion of the charge and at this point the easiest thing for me to do as the patient was to walk away. After all, it’s not MY $600 that was paid out (although at some level it is) and I had already spent over an hour trying to pursue this and now she was asking me to pursue undefined documentation that they’d probably reject anyway. I asked if there was any mechanism for them to reach out to the physician (after all the insurance fund was the one that was wronged) and she said I’d have to provide the phone number and she’d try to call if she could. I was surprised by that (they should have the phone number since the provider is in network) and interpreted it as her attempt to just get the patient off the phone and move on. I doubt she’ll ever call.

What’s my point here? The patient experience still stinks and it’s not all due to technology. Although my first tale of woe has a distinct odor of an IT nature, people are unwilling to address it. Heck, they didn’t even try to play a “known issue with the vendor, blah blah blah” card — they just said there was no way to fix it. The second scenario is strictly human error. The office put the wrong name on the requisition and filled out the name discrepancy form incorrectly. But because all the technology components were met (CPT, ICD, DOB, MRN, insurance information) the failure wasn’t detected.

It could have been mitigated by IT, however, with the use of real-time claim adjudication and the immediate collection of the patient balance. On the other hand it could have also been mitigated by a direct pay method of funding healthcare, where I would have been presented with a bill to review at checkout and then either paid it or disputed it rather than sending it to insurance. That’s the way medicine used to work.

To put the onus on the patient to correct either of these errors is wrong. We should be bending over backward to make sure patient information is correct and that there are processes to handle incidents like these. We’re all patients, and someday that could be us on the other end of the phone. There are other elements here, too. What if that biopsy was melanoma? Then that information would be in my claims data and that would be another nightmare entirely to try to correct.

At the end of the day, patients want physicians and other health professionals to be accessible. They want them to listen. They want the office staff, hospital employees, and anyone else they have to interface with (insurance, lab, etc.) to take care of their needs without acting like they’re in a hurry or pushing back. They want to be treated fairly and have accurate records. All the technology and the bells and whistles are nice, but they’re secondary for the most part. Many of us would trade it all for a physician who had more than six minutes of time to address our needs and an office staff that was pushing for us rather than pushing paper or the electronic equivalent.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 3/17/14

There was a great response to last week’s Curbside Consult and my mention of the therapeutic powers of baking. Despite everything going on at the office, it ended up being a fairly low-key week, so the only things coming out of my kitchen were a pan of brownies and a batch of banana bread.

(I admit I played a little bit of the Mad Scientist game with the banana bread. Although it was good, it wasn’t significantly better than the original recipe, so maybe I’ll stop trying to mess with perfection.)

We made a fair amount of progress in our due diligence efforts around bringing the patient records from the practice we acquired onto our system. Although some people might find it boring, I actually enjoy rolling up my sleeves and digging in. It’s predictable work in some regards.

Our DBAs started looking at their system’s data structure to identify how many custom fields they are using compared to a vanilla version of the software. Some of our EHR analysts started looking at the actual user screens to identify custom fields from that perspective as well as to begin diagramming the workflow they’ve built in the EHR.

We’ll send people on site and work with their training team to determine whether the EHR workflow matches how they operate in the practices or if this is an opportunity to retire any custom elements that aren’t actually working in the field. I’ve seen plenty of instances where physicians have customized their systems to the point where efficiencies are lost. This tends to happen more when users don’t have adequate training or don’t agree with the design intent of the software.

Where there are customizations in the workflow, we’ll also do some statistical analysis to look at how many times custom fields are actually used. Just because they were built doesn’t mean anyone uses them regularly.

Our medical group has grown substantially over the last few years. Given the number of physicians who currently use an EHR, we’ve had to do a fair number of conversions. Some of them are simple, especially when the source EHR is fairly primitive or doesn’t have a robust data structure. In those situations, we might convert the patient notes to PDF files and bring them in as if they were scanned documents. It doesn’t give us a lot of discrete data, but in some regards it may be safer than trying to map imprecise data.

I’ve seen systems that don’t use any kind of formatting on data fields (such as restricting blood pressure entries to numbers only) that lead to garbage in the record. In those situations, I typically sit down with the physician and explain the choices: we can either bring the data as images (akin to scanning a paper chart as far as patient safety is concerned) or we can spend a lot of time and money trying to map it. In the latter scenario, they will need to sign off on any corrections.

Most physicians who hear about the time commitment for mapping data run shrieking out of my office and I never hear from them again until I see their signature on the checklist approving the test extract that’s been pulled into the imaging system. Those who aren’t scared off by the time commitment are usually scared off by the budget, which our medical group usually isn’t very keen on funding.

I’m surprised (at least at some level) but the number of physicians who realize they have dirty data but don’t do anything about it. They see the typo’d letters in the BP fields and authenticate their notes anyway rather than talking with their staff about data accuracy. Very few have thought to talk to their vendors about why the system even allows typing of letters into a BP field.

I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised, because I’ve seen even wackier things in the paper world, such as subspecialists who had their staff stamp consult letters with nonsense like, “Dictated but not read; signed by secretary to expedite.” Someone who is OK with that probably doesn’t care about potentially erroneous data in their notes.

So far, the potential conversion doesn’t look that bad from a technical perspective. Although there is a fair amount of customization, it’s not being used extensively. In fact, overall use of the EHR is pretty light. From a change management perspective, though, that’s pretty ominous, especially since our group requires significant commitment to documentation via discrete data. We’ll have our work cut out for us in helping them truly adopt EHR as well as in helping them adapt to our culture.

I almost wish the technical aspects of the conversion were more daunting because I could use that to buy more time with the powers that be. Our analysts still have a bit of digging to do and the workflow teams will find plenty of issues when they go on site, but I’m not sure we’ll have as much time to formulate an effective plan as I’d like. We’ll have to see how things unfold.

Regardless of what we find, I know we won’t have anywhere near as much budget as we need to do our best. We’re pretty good at delivering the impossible, though, so I’m hopeful. And when all hope is gone, there will always be pastry.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 3/10/14

This week was the beginning of what I suspect will be a long and painful project at work. If I wanted to deal with mergers and acquisitions, I would have gone to business school. Instead, I went into medical school, but nevertheless here I am.

Like so many other health systems across the US, mine has been in growth mode. We were accelerating the growth of our employed medical group going back as far as 2008. The push towards more tightly integrated delivery systems has only added fuel to the fire.

We had previously been purchasing groups in the three- to 10-physician practice space, with a couple of outliers that had 15 or so physicians. Now we’ve gone and purchased a 75-physician group. I’m sure it looked great to the hospitals as a way to further consolidate their referral bases. It was also a grab for the revenue that the new group’s imaging division was bringing in on the side.

I had the opportunity to speak with a few of their physician leaders in a couple of weeks ago. My ears perked up when they mentioned one upside of being part of our health system as “better support with IT projects including Meaningful Use and PQRS.”

Red lights started flashing in my head and alarms were going off. Thinking that PQRS or Meaningful Use are “IT projects” is like thinking that a heart/lung transplant is a “plumbing project.”

I immediately scheduled a series of meetings with their leadership and IT teams and our counterparts to figure out what had been promised by the C-suite and how we were going to deliver it. It’s bad enough to have to deal with a culture shift, but when technology and millions of dollars in incentives are involved, the problem is magnified. Our C-suite has a track record of promising technology projects that they can’t deliver (such as a complete EHR conversion in 30 days) so we quickly formed a betting pool to entertain just how bad this might get.

One of the reasons they get us into these kinds of binds is they’re afraid to involve too many people in the acquisitions. They fear that other physicians will get word of them and become demanding or that there will be a loss of bargaining power if it’s public too early. I understand that, but I also understand the need to do due diligence around merging or converting IT systems before the promises are made and the papers are signed.

Every once in a while, one of the VPs will ask someone from IT to “look under the hood” at an acquisition target, but it’s usually more along the lines of valuing their hardware, calculating their maintenance, and figuring out how to connect them to the hospital backbone than it is to assessing the quality of their data and how well their workflows and care gel with our existing best practices.

Unfortunately, the ink was already dry before I knew about it. Our group president made some assumptions that since our target was on the same EHR as we are that it should be fairly easy to just “throw them on our system and have them attest with our docs.” Oh, so much easier said then done, my friend. When I started throwing out reasons why it doesn’t really work that way, he actually referred to me as Debbie Downer and reminded me that we have to make it work because we already said we would.

I can’t believe that’s what passes for leadership these days, but our health system seems to love this guy. He’s personable and kind of a teddy bear, but he’s generally all fluff and no stuff, which leaves the rest of us to scramble around behind him to try to make things work.

This week began the series of meetings to try to figure out how to deliver the impossible. We now have two installations of the EHR to deal with. Their group has a lot of primary care docs that refer to our specialists. Given the number of common patients between the platforms, I’m not confident of being able to do a clean conversion without a lot of data integrity issues and a substantial commitment for clinical cleanup even if we had a nice long time interval. That’s problem number one.

Problem number two is that both installations have to take a major upgrade before we start the attestation period for Meaningful Use on July 1. Leadership assumed we could combine the systems quickly and do a single upgrade, but in addition to the patient issue, we also have a fair amount of customization and client-specific configuration on each system that will have to be evaluated. We can’t just throw it all away and assume physicians will be immediately facile on a plain vanilla system.

We also have the issue that at least 40 of their providers are going to be attesting for MU the first time. That means that not only do we have to get their upgrade live early enough prior to July 1 that the users have enough time to burn in the new workflows and make sure they’re entering quality data, but we need to plan to have our MU and auditing teams work around the clock at the end of the quarter so we can attest for them by the deadline. Problem number three.

Let’s see, the end of that quarter also puts us at October 1, which is ICD-10 go-time. That makes problem number four.

Let’s back up a little, though. If they’re such a solid, established group, I wonder why more than half of them are just now going after MU Stage 1? That was the topic of Wednesday’s half-day working session, when I really dug into the fact that they think MU, PQRS, and other quality initiatives are IT projects. That’s when I came up with problem number five, which unfortunately is the biggest one of all. The reason they haven’t attested yet is they’ve been attempting to have IT lead all these projects without adequate operational and clinical support.

They seriously think that there is some kind of magical IT wand that will be waved around and the physicians will do what they are asked along with all the support staff. They have zero physician alignment strategy. Physicians have no financial skin in the game for MU or any of the other incentive programs. They don’t even have a standard physician contract. All the physicians have been able to negotiate their own deals even those in the same physical location. That makes it a little tricky when partners are able to earn the same income seeing dramatically different numbers of patients per month.

The IT team listed off more than a dozen resentful bitter physician disagreements without even taking a breath. At least all of our physicians were migrated to a common contract in tandem with our EHR project more than half a decade ago because we realized only money would align them with our goals. These folks (including the one operations person that bothered to show up at the meeting) acted like they have never heard such a thing.

Their staffing ratios are also a mess. Everyone has the same number of support staff regardless of specialty, productivity, or how they run their offices. There is no common scheduling methodology across their locations, which adds another worry of how we’ll do an appointment conversion if we decide to do one when we move them to our database. No wonder they were ripe for the picking — they were undoubtedly losing money with how they were running. By the end of the meeting, I was scarfing down Advil like they were the green M&Ms in Inga’s Quipstar dressing room at HIMSS.

I spent most of Friday with my trusted lieutenants trying to figure out how we’re going to do this and still preserve our sanity and keep our team intact. After looking at all the pros and cons, I think I’m going to be lucky to make it through the next two quarters without losing my own mind or quitting my job. My liver can’t take as many martinis as I think I’ll need to get through the inevitable goat rodeo this will become, so I figured it was time to find a less-harmful way to self-medicate.

My drug of choice: pastry. This week’s offering is pictured at top. I’m a big fan of doing things old-school so I can let out my stress cutting the butter into the flour by hand as I pursue the perfect crust. I can release my creative energies by trying different fillings. If I really need to escape, I can do decorative top crusts or make little designs with dough cutouts.

I may not be able to make this project work, but I’m armed and dangerous where an egg wash is concerned. I’m going to go all Martha Stewart in my free time, just without the insider trading or the prison term.

Got a recommendation for pastry therapy? Email me.

Email Dr. Jayne.

Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 3/3/14

HIMSS Wrap Up

Every year at HIMSS there’s too much going on and not enough time to write about it. We try to hit as many booths as possible while attempting to attend some educational sessions as well, but there just aren’t enough hours to do it all. I had several sheets of notes in my bag, so please bear with my somewhat rambling wrap up.

Someone reached out to me over the weekend to follow up and share photos of the Verisk Health service project benefitting the Second Harvest Food Bank. I had mentioned last week about seeing the  woman in the carrot costume at the Phytel booth and didn’t realize that Verisk Health was the main sponsor. They ended up with over 250 HIMSS participants who prepared 4,100 food packs for kids. Thanks to those who turned out to help. They are planning to host similar events at AHIP and NHCAA, so if you’re attending either of those events, keep an eye out for the location and time. Thanks to Verisk Health for sponsoring HIStalk as well – I hope they keep me posted on future events so I can alert our  readers.

Several vendors were showing off their “big data” but weren’t ready to address the “big questions” that come with it. Having dealt with numerous EHR conversions, I’m keenly aware of the sheer magnitude of bad data out there. Those aggregating it tend to assume that the data they’re getting is good. I really pushed one of the major national vendors on how they handle data integrity and the answers were less than satisfactory. I could tell they understood the problem because they provided the example of allergy data where one vendor has separate fields for the allergy and the reaction and another vendor combines them. The rep wasn’t able to explain how they’re handling it even though they were displaying a patient chart that showed allergy data from both sources. I asked for a follow up contact, but I’m not holding my breath.

CHADIS (Child Health & Development Interactive System) is a vendor I wish I’d come across earlier. We have struggled with implementing our patient portal for pediatric patients due to privacy issues, and ultimately our health system placed it on hold. Their product is tailored to the pediatric population with online screening that covers all the Bright Future requirements. They also somehow managed to obtain permission to use most of the popular pediatric developmental screeners. That doesn’t sound like a big deal, but knowing that my vendor has struggled for years to try to obtain permission to use one particular screener, it’s pretty exciting to those of us that see children in practice. CHADIS includes a research database and is interoperable with many EHRs, so I’ll be checking them out in more detail.

After Mr. H mentioned he was having difficulty finding note pads, I had my eye out for them. I spotted a handy notebook at the Accretive Health booth. The gentlemen manning the booth (which was on the fringes of the exhibit hall) at the end of the day were very engaging. One of them was leadership development author Ken Jennings, who was happy to chat about his book The Greater Goal and send me home with a copy as well. I noticed his Air Force Academy ring and we talked about the difference between a military education and a civilian one. The teenager who mows my lawn wants to attend the Academy and he was kind enough to offer himself as a resource. Those little moments where we can connect as people (and not just as vendor/prospect), especially after a long day, are one of the things I look forward to at meetings.

There were several people I wanted to connect with and missed, including Jonathan Handler, CMIO at MModal. Since he was in the board review course I attended, I was planning to ask his thoughts on what the vendor space thinks about the Clinical Informatics certification. My employer refused to pay for me to take the exam (they barely gave me the day off to sit for it) and I wonder if vendors are more generous. If they have certified informaticists on board and are using that for marketing purposes, they ought to!

I wanted to mention a little more about the educational session I attended on Monday: “Converting Your Legal Medical Record – It’s Both Technology and Process.” I’m glad I arrived early because I had some time to look through the printed HIMSS pocket guide to figure out the lay of the land and do some last-minute exhibit hall planning. I was looking for the location of the press room and noted that HIMSS had a designated “Nursing Room.” I thought that was pretty progressive until I noticed it was in the same location as the designated “Prayer Room.” What were they thinking?

Back to the educational session, the presenters were from Main Line Health (which was converting their hospital system) and Leidos Health, which assisted in the effort. They did a great job with the presentation despite some technical difficulties and had a good sense of humor about it. Having lived through multiple conversion projects, I can say that their advice was spot-on. They admitted they wish they could have started earlier and spent more time documenting the current state and figuring out how that was going to impact the new system.

They talked about building their clinical crosswalk and how they planned to handle the audit trails once the legacy system was decommissioned. They had a great statement about organizational resistance: during early meetings, they spent 50 percent of the time mourning the loss of the old system and the remainder doing actual work. I’ve been to a lot of meetings like that. If only the attendees realized that no amount of begging or pleading is going to bring an old system back once it’s been marked for death, we could be so much more productive.

They shared great examples of what to look out for in system conversions. The legacy system changed physician ID numbers, which created problems with providers showing up as “unknown physician” after the test extraction. Scope creep was a major issue, but many of the expanding requirements involved patient safety or risk elements which had to be considered at some level. They also emphasized the need to have two willing vendors and lamented the lack of an industry best practice in how to approach these projects. They interviewed a variety of consultants prior to the project and received many opinions on the best way to proceed.

One aspect of their conversion is (thankfully) something I haven’t had to experience yet. They found that when the conversion was announced, many of the staff responsible for the legacy system pursued employment elsewhere. There was a tremendous loss of institutional knowledge around the legacy system and they had to add retention bonuses to keep them on board through the knowledge transfer. I can’t imagine what my last two conversions would have been like if I lost key staffers. They also got lucky when their go-live was delayed by another project, which resulted in an extra six months for converting data. They’re still extracting as we speak, but I’m sure that gave them a bit of a cushion. They plan to go live with six years’ worth of hospital data, which is a tremendous amount.

I snuck out during the question and answer period so I could make it to my next meeting (the fact that the audience didn’t want to come to the microphone to ask their questions was definitely a contributing factor) and get the the exhibit hall when it opened. The rest of HIMSS was a blur and I’m still trying to get caught up. I found this politically incorrect squeezy stress thing in my bag when I got back. I saw them at the Hitachi booth but didn’t pick one up, so I suspect one of the folks I was roaming the hall with was trying to be funny. I’m sure if I put it on my desk at work I’d be summoned to HR before you can say “harassment.”

I did have one nice surprise this weekend – my Clinical Informatics certificate has arrived! All my certificates are in matching frames (courtesy of my first employer who actually had a budget for that sort of thing) so I hope I can find something that is close or at least complimentary. On the other hand, maybe I’ll go completely wild and frame it in animal print or something unusual. That would definitely start some conversations when people weave their way through Finance and Compliance to make it to my office.

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Curbside Consult with Dr. Jayne 2/17/14

Across medical specialties, there’s a little bit of an “us vs. them” mentality when you look at physicians who use their minds more than their hands. We refer to it as cognitive specialties vs. procedural specialties. 

If you guessed that the proceduralists make more money, you’re right. Those of us on the cognitive side of the equation, which includes primary care, worry about keeping our minds sharp as much as surgeons worry about their hands.

Like cognitive physicians, many of us in health IT make a living with our brains and are under a great deal of stress. Sometimes it feels like we’re losing our minds when we have to try to figure out how to accomplish everything that needs to be done on limited budgets.

In doing psychiatry and neurology rotations, I always wondered whether people who are having brain disorders know that something is going wrong or whether things seem OK to them. When I feel unfocused, can’t sleep, and can’t concentrate, I wonder if something sinister is going on or if it’s just stress. I wonder too how many people realize I’m not on my “A Game” when that happens.

I’m excited about the potential for genomics and personalized medicine to be able to predict future illness on an individual basis. The idea of being able to prevent disease at the molecular level or to design targeted treatments after it already occurs is appealing. On the other hand, I’m not sure I’d want to know about conditions that might not be curable. It’s a double-edged sword.

It turns out that Big Data might be able to provide some advance warning at least for those of us who are writers. NPR recently re-ran a story from 2010 about an English professor at the University of Toronto who came up with an interesting way to bring literature and medicine together.

Ian Lancashire has been gathering Big Data on authors, looking at the number of words in their texts and the volume of usage. He tries to identify patterns that help him understand the author’s thought process.

Recently, he took on the work of Agatha Christie. He used computer analysis to review 16 books written over half a decade. He found that in one of her later novels, her word usage changed. The number of unique words decreased by 20 percent. Certain types of words increased in number. His conclusion: Alzheimer’s may have been responsible for the change.

He worked with others (including linguists, pathologists, and statistical experts) to review the work before publication. Although she was never diagnosed, she may have exhibited signs and symptoms of dementia by report. Interestingly, the book where the changes were noted is called Elephants Can Remember and is about a novelist experiencing memory loss.

According to the NPR piece, other Alzheimer’s research also indicates that patterns in writing can help identify those that may develop the disease. A study done with the School Sisters of Notre Dame looked at memory and aging. The sisters also allowed pathology review of brain samples after death. Researcher David Snowdon found writing samples (the sisters’ essays written when they joined the community) and analyzed them.

Those samples with higher “idea density” seemed to be less predictive of dementia than those with lower idea density. It certainly doesn’t prove a cause and effect relationship, but only an association. I wonder what it would look like if we did an analysis of the writings of the HIStalk team? How concordant would our “day job” work be with that written by our HIStalk personas? Would researchers be able to pick out those weeks when our real-world IT departments were crashing and burning around us? Could they identify the pieces we secretly wrote from the beach or other points unknown?

Some of the discussion after the broadcast centered on the large volume of digital communications that we now create each day. Could our employers mine our emails and instant messages to determine whether we are exhibiting symptoms of mental instability? Are we more depressed by failed projects and untenable initiatives than we should be? Does the level of anxiety among analysts predict whether one go live will be more successful than another?

Looking at my Sent Items folder, I’d be scared to have my work analyzed. It’s likely to show symptoms of multiple personality disorder as I have to play games with various providers to get them to comply with organizational initiatives. Throw in some crisis of identity with all the different hats I have to wear (often at the same time) and it could get really interesting.

What do you think your writing says about you? Email me.

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