What then is EHR?

An hour and twenty minutes on the train to Washington. The young woman behind me:

“And she was like…”

“And I was like…”

“And they were like…”

“And she was like…”

Ninety long minutes.  She never got off the train, and in a way I feel responsible. I locked her in the bathroom…She kept right on talking…”And she was like…”

The lanky guy seated across the aisle from me was a human tattoo museum.  The matron by the window spent an hour trying to decide which ringtone to use for incoming calls, listening repeatedly to the dozens of options with the phone’s volume set to its highest level.

So went my day.  Arriving home late at night I did the unthinkable, the unforgivable—wiped my hands on the decorative towels in the guest bathroom.  You probably have the same towels.  In fact, you probably have not even cut of the tags.  There they hang.  They have hung in the same spot, undisturbed.  Generations have come and gone, yet the towels stay.  They have become a fixture.

There are three categories of stuff—wants, needs, and must-haves.  I want a Porsche, I need air, and I must have towels that nobody will ever use.

What then is EHR?  For many hospitals it has become a must-have.  I have always thought nine figures was a lot of money to spend on something that saw no more use than guest-towels.

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