EHR

EHR: How important is due diligence?

Posted by

0

What was your first car?  Mine was a 60’ something Corvair–$300.  Four doors, black vinyl bench seating that required hours of hand-stitching to hide the slash marks made by the serial killer who was the prior owner, an AM and a radio, push-button transmission located on the dash.  Maroon-ish.  Fifty miles to the quart of oil—I carried a case of oil in the trunk.  One bonus feature was the smoke screen it provided to help me elude potential terrorists.

I am far from mechanically inclined.  In high school I failed the ASVAB, Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery—the put the round peg in the round hole test.  Just to understand how un-complex the Corvair was, I, who hardly knows how to work the radio in a new car, rebuilt the Corvair’s alternator—must not have had many working parts.  Due the the excessive amount of rusting I could see the street from the driver’s side foot well.

However, it had one thing going for it; turning the key often made it go—at least for the first three or four months.  Serves me right.  The guy selling the car pitched it as a date-mobile, alluding to the bench front seat.  Not wanting to look stupid, I bought it.  Pretty poor due diligence.  An impulse purchase to meet what I felt was a social imperative—a lean, mean, dating machine.

The last time I made a good impulse purchase was an ice cream sandwich on a hundred degree day.  Most of my other impulse decisions could have used some good data.  The lack of good data falls on one person, me.

How good is the data you have for deciding to implement an EHR?  In selecting an EHR?  Did you perform the necessary due diligence?  How do you know?  Gathering good data is tedious, and it can lack intellectual stimulation.  I think it affects the same side of our brain as when our better half asks us to stop and ask someone for directions; we like being impulsive, and have built a career based on having made decisions on good hunches.

The difference between you buying and EHR and me buying a clunker is that when I learned I’d made a poor decision I was able to buy a different car.  You can’t do that with an EHR that has more zeros in the price tag than the Dallas Cowboys front line.  Plenty of hospitals are on EHR 2.0–they also happen to be on CIO 2.0. while CIO 1.0 is out shopping for a Corvair.

The effect of poor planning

Posted by

0

I’ve always considered myself to be rather athletic, although I must have been on break when they handed out the coordination genes.  Perhaps that is why I tended towards individual efforts like running.

As it was, I was fairly good at ice skating as long as I was moving forward, the straighter the better.  Turning and stopping required an abundance of room, and an absence of other skaters.

Whoever came up with the notion that if you can ice skate you can roller skate was either lying through his teeth, or I became skating’s anti-matter.  At the time of my first attempt at roller skating I was unaware that ice and roller skating skills weren’t transferable.  Have I mentioned I like having an audience?  I decided to audition my roller skating skills at a public skating rink while on a first date.

The night was proceeding swimmingly.  I learned quickly that if I stayed to the edge and leaned towards the center of the rink, centrifugal force would keep me from falling.  My confidence in my abilities began to build.  Music boomed from the overhead speakers.  Several couples held hands, the more skilled ones crossed their arms in front of them and held hands.  I locked on to my date’s wrists and eased us into the first turn.  The song switched to Barry Manilow’s “I write the songs.”  To my misfortune–an the misfortune of everyone else, I knew the words, and began to serenade my date.  When an alpha-male sings Barry Manilow in front of anyone but his own shadow, only two things can happen and they’re both bad.

We hit the second turn and I began to accelerate.  We sped past a number of couples.  I sang louder, concentrating more on the words than on the task of keeping us both upright.

For those unfamiliar with the design of roller skates I should explain what I perceive to be a fatal design flaw—one which you will note has been eliminated in roller blades.  The flaw?  On the front of each roller skate about an inch from the bottom is a round rubber device that resembles a stunted hockey puck.  It serves no known purpose other than to sucker punch novice skaters.  If you mistakenly try to build speed by pushing off with the toe of your roller skate—as you do in ice skating—you are actually hitting the emergency brake.  And because the brake is at the front of the skate, the physics is such that once your feet stop, the only direction the rest of your body can go is head over heels.

I pushed off with the front of my foot; big mistake.

I looked like I had purposefully launched us over a pommel horse.  During the first few seconds of my flight I was reluctant to let go of my date’s hands.  I thought that if we fell together that there was some small chance that I could shift the blame for the crash to her.  We separated at speed and created sort of a demolition derby for those around us; bodies piling up like logs awaiting entrance to a saw mill.  For the rest of the evening it felt like people were pointing at me as if to say, “Steer clear of him, he’s the one who took us all out.”

My one mistake caused a chain reaction of bad events and a severely hematomaed ego.  Bad things rarely happen in a vacuum.  There’s cause and effect, and the effect can be disastrous.  For those of you whose EHR program is underway who may have scrimped on the planning process—you know who you are—you may as well be the captain of the Titanic throwing refrigerant in the water.  There is no recovery from bad planning.

No matter what the shape of your EHR implementation, if you find yourself humming a few bars of “I write the songs”, only two things can happen and they’re both bad.

What are the voices telling you?

Posted by

0

My favorite thing about healthcare is having witnessed it up close and personal both as a cancer patient in the 80’s and as the survivor of a heart attack seven years ago.

I was fortunate enough to have testicular cancer before Lance Armstrong made it seem kind of stylish.  Caught early, it’s one of the most curable cancers.  As those who’ve undergone the chemo will attest, the cure is almost potent enough to kill you.

I self-diagnosed while watching a local news cast in Amarillo where I was stationed on one of my consulting engagements.  As we were having dinner, my fellow consultants voted to change the channel—I however had lost my appetite.  I went to my room, looked in Yellow Pages—see how times have changed—and called the first doctor I found.  This is one of those times when Never Wrong Roemer hated being right.

So, yada, yada, yada; my hair falls out in less time than it took to shower.  A few more rounds of chemo, the cancer’s gone and I start my see America recovery Tour, my wig and I visiting friends throughout the southeast.  If I had it to do over, I would go without the wig, but at twenty-seven the wig was my security blanket.  I don’t think it ever fooled anyone or anything—even my house plants snickered when I wore it around them.

I owned a TR-7 convertible—apparently it never lived up to its billing as the shape of things to come, more like the shape of things that never were.  My wig blew out of the convertible as I made my way through Smokey Mountain National Park.  I spent twenty minutes walking along the highway until I spotted what looked like a squirrel laying lifelessly on the shoulder—my wig.

The last stop on my tour was at a friend’s apartment in Raleigh.  Overheated from the long drive and the August sun, I decided to take a few laps in her pool.  I dove in the shallow end, swam the length of the pool, performed a near-flawless kick-turn and eased in to the Australian Crawl.  As I turned to gasp for air, I noticed I was about to lap my hair.  I also noticed a small boy, his legs dangling in the water, with a look of astonishment on his face.

My ego had reached rock bottom and had started to dig.  Realizing my wig wasn’t fooling anyone but me, I had one of those “know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em moments” and never again wore the wig after learning it was such a poor swimmer.

Do you get those moments, or get the little voice telling you that your EHR strategy isn’t fooling anyone?  It’s okay to acknowledge the voices as long as you don’t audibly reply to them during meetings—I Twitter mine.

Sometimes the voices ask why we didn’t evaluate the EHR vendors with a detailed RFP.  Other times they want to know how that correspondence course in project management is coming along.  It’s okay.  As long as you’re hearing the voices you still have a shot at recovery.  It’s only when they quit talking that you should start to worry.  Either that, or try wearing a wig.

 

How the election will impact healthcare IT and EHR

Posted by

0

Here are my thoughts on how the election will impact healthcare IT and EHR.  This post can also be found at healthsystem cio.com at http://healthsystemcio.com/2010/11/03/healthcare-2-0-here-we-go-again/

The real healthcare 2.0

Just when you thought it was safe to get back into the water…

It is a strange day when the smartest people in the room are the ones who did absolutely nothing.  Whether doing nothing required divination and prescience or, merely resulted from having no idea which way to tack the boat need not be determined.

So, what exactly will be the impact on your IT and business strategies after the bloodletting in Washington?  How is the whole Meaningful Use strategy going to bear fruit?  Unfortunately, the most favorable answer to a large provider may be, “We don’t know.”  If nothing else, now that Washington again has a two party system and is hosting a tea-party—Blanche Lincoln will be drinking coffee, one can be certain reform will be stalled if not derailed.

Most of the verbiage prior to yesterday focused on how much of an impact healthcare reform would have on the election, a P implies Q argument.  I think those individuals were too busy minding the P’s and Q’s when they should have been focused on their Q’s and P’s.  that is, how much impact will the election have on healthcare reform.

Twelve months were invested in the first debate on healthcare reform.  Ten more have since passed.  In grouping periods of time, I find it helpful to develop naming conventions to distinguish between two events or periods of time.  To at least pretend to be apolitical, allow me to label the healthcare reform and all the dollars invested by large providers to prepare their organizations to meet it prior to November 2, 2010, BP Reform.  All things after the royal coach turned back into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight shall be labeled AP Reform—I will let you sort out the acronym.

Did I mention that under AP Reform the new governors will be appointing the new state insurance commissioners?  These individuals will be the ones responsible for implementing AP Reform.  These same people are responsible for determining the medical loss ratio which plays into how much insurers must spend on Medicare.

On November 2, you could not walk the hospital corridors without bumping into something unknown about the impact of BP Reform.  Today the conversation is simpler in that everything is an unknown.  What happens to the $400 billion in Medicare cuts and the states enacting legislation to forbid mandatory insurance?

How will the election affect the financial sustainability of Health Information Exchanges (HIEs)?  This alone is enough to cause one to question the viability of the National Health Information Network.

Bearing in mind that it will take many months to sort out the impact of yesterday’s election on the healthcare IT implications of AP Reform, what topics might be worthy of consideration at the next meeting of the EHR Steering Committee?  Here are a few that come to mind for me:

  • Will the healthcare legislation change?  If so, how?
  • Will certification continue to exist?
  • What will happen to Meaningful Use?  Will the requirements change?  What about the deadlines?  Will the incentives remain as they are?
  • How will it impact HIEs and the N-HIN?
  • What will AP Reform do to the development of Accountable Care Organizations?  How will ACOs need to be supported and reported?
  • How will Patient Experience Management differ?
  • How should the organization’s strategic plan be altered?
  • What should our HIT plans look like?

The one thing I think we can agree on is that having an Electronic Health Records (EHR) system will be an integral part of whatever comes about.  What it is, how it gets there, how you implement it, and what it will be able to do remains up to you.

I have been telling my clients to approach EHR and Meaningful Use as though Meaningful Use did not exist.  Given that the number of business uncertainties has just skyrocketed my counsel to large healthcare providers is to approach EHR with a narcissistic attitude.  Select and implement EHR as though Meaningful Use did not exist.  Why handcuff your EHR to constraints that will certainly change?

 

How’s the EHR vendor performing?

Posted by

0

Many organizations have a Program Management Office and a Program Steering Committee to oversee all aspects of the EHR.  Typically these include broad objectives like defining the functional and technical requirements, process redesign, change management, software selection, training, and implementation.  Chances are that neither the PMO or the steering committee has ever selected or implemented an EHR.  As such, it can be difficult to know how well the effort is proceeding.  Simply matching deliverables to milestones may be of little value if the deliverables and milestones are wrong.  The program can quickly take on the look and feel of the scene from the movie City Slickers when the guys on horseback are trying to determine where they are.  One of the riders replies, “We don’t know where we’re going, but we’re making really good time.”

One way to provide oversight is to constantly ask the PMO “why.”  Why did we miss that date?  Why are we doing it this way?  Tell me again, why did we select that vendor?  Why didn’t we evaluate more options?  As members of the steering committee you are responsible for being able to provide correct answers to those questions, just as the PMO is responsible for being able to provide them to you.  The PMO will either have substantiated answers, or he or she won’t.  If the PMO isn’t forthcoming with those answers, in effect you have your answer to a more important question, “Is the project in trouble?”  If the steering committee is a rubber stamp, everyone loses.  To be of value, the committee should serve as a board of inquiry.  Use your instincts to judge how the PMO responds.  Is the PMO forthcoming?  Does the PMO have command of the material?  Can the PMO explain the status in plain English?

So, how can you tell how the EHR effort is progressing?  Perhaps this is one way to tell.

A man left his cat with his brother while he went on vacation for a week. When he came back, he called his brother to see when he could pick the cat up. The brother hesitated, then said, “I’m so sorry, but while you were away, the cat died.”

The man was very upset and yelled, “You know, you could have broken the news to me better than that. When I called today, you could have said the cat was on the roof and wouldn’t come down. Then when I called the next day, you could have said that he had fallen off and the vet was working on patching him up. Then when I called the third day, you could have said he had passed away.”

The brother thought about it and apologized.

“So how’s Mom?” asked the man.

“She’s on the roof and won’t come down.”

If you ask the PMO how the project is going and he responds by saying, “The vendor’s on the roof and won’t come down,” it may be time to get a new vendor.

 

Who was the person who put in our first EHR system?

Posted by

1

The first home I bought was in Denver.  Built in 1898, it lacked so many amenities that it seemed better suited as a log cabin.  There was not a single closet, perhaps because that was a time when Americans were more focused on hunting than gathering.  Compared to today’s McMansions, it was doll-house sized.

It needed work—things like electricity, water—did I mention closets?  I stripped seven coats of paint from the stairs.  Hand-built a fireplace mantle and a deck.  One day I arrived home only to find my dog had eaten through the lath and plaster wall of the space which served as my foyer/family room/ living room-cum-hallway.  I discovered the plaster and lathe hid a fabulous brick wall.

My choice was to patch the small hole, or remove the rest of the plaster.  I knew nothing of patching holes, but felt pretty confident about my demolition skills.  Within an hour I had purchased man-tools; two mauls, chisels, and a sledge hammer.  I worked through dinner and through the night.  The only scary moment came as the steel chisel I was using connected to the wiring of two sconces which were embedded in the plaster.  On cold nights I can still feel the tingling in my left shoulder.

As the first rays of dawn carved their way through the frosted beveled glass of the front door, I wondered why I never before had noticed that the glass was frosted.  I wiped two fingers along the frost.  A fine coating of white powder came off the glass leaving two parallel tracks resembling a cross-country ski trail.  I surveyed the room only to see that the air made it look like I was standing inside of a cloud.  The fine white powder was everywhere, covering my Salvation Army sofa, a semi-matching machine-loomed Oriental rug from the Far East (of Nebraska), a two-ton Sony television, and a component stereo system that had consumed most of my earnings.

Bachelor living can be entertaining.  One of my climbing buddies moved in with me.  The idea was I’d keep the rent low, and he’d help me by maintaining the house.  He didn’t help.  I made a list of duties; he didn’t help.  I left the vacuum in the middle of the floor, for two weeks and he walked around it.  I made him move out, and advertised for a female roommate—an idea I now wish I’d marketed.  A girl from church came over to see the place.  I turned my back on her to allow her to view the house with a degree of privacy.  When I returned I found her on her hands and knees cleaning the bathroom.  I was in love.  It was like having a big sister and mother.  She even asked if it was okay if since she was doing her laundry if she did mine at the same time.  Life was oh so good.

Sometimes when one approach isn’t working it’s real easy to try something else.  And sometimes the something else gives you a solution in the form of a water-walker.  Healthcare IT and EHR aren’t ever going to be one of those sometimes.  There will be no water-walkers, no easy do-overs.  There won’t be anyone walking your hallways talking about their first wildly unsuccessful EHR implementation.  Nobody gets to wear an EHR 2.0 team hat.  Those who fail will become the detritus of holiday party conversations.  Who will be the topic of future holiday parties?  I’m just guessing, but I’m betting it will be those who failed to develop a viable Healthcare IT plan, whoever selected the EHR without developing an RFP, the persons who decided Patient Experience Management (PEM) was a waste of money.  The good news is that with all of those people leaving your organization there will be more shrimp for everyone else to eat.

I’d better go.  I just noticed somebody left the vacuum in the middle of the floor so I need to get cracking before my wife advertises for a female roommate.

EHR leadership isn’t always a democracy

Posted by

0

Cerealizable.

That’s my new word. I coined it the last time my wife was traveling and I was in charge of breakfast and making sure nobody missed the bus. Cerealizable is what happens when you walk into the kitchen and are confronted with two hungry dogs, three hungry kids, hair that needs brushing, homework assignments that need to be reviewed, and lunches that have to be packed.

Breakfast orders are shouted at me across the room as though I’m their short-order cook; pancakes, French toast, sausage, and who knows what else. What does one do? I was quickly headed down the path of self destruction, too many tasks and not enough taskers. I needed a light at the end of the tunnel and so I created one. I cerealized the problem; simplified it–turned into something I could solve. Go to the pantry, pull out the cardboard cereal boxes, three bowls, three spoons, and the gallon of milk. Check off breakfast.

In case you’re wondering, Cocoa Puffs still turn the milk brown, just like they did thirty years ago. Lunch orders began to be shouted across the bowls of cereal. Ham and cheese, PB&J, tuna–extra mayo, no celery. Once again small beads of perspiration formed quickly on my brow. For a moment I considered calling the school and telling them that all three were sick. That would solve the lunch problem, but it would also mean that the three of them would be home all day–my own private hostage situation. What to do? My coffee remained out of reach, still untouched. That explained the pending headache. Back to lunch. Cerealize it. “Everyone is buying lunch today,” I announced above the roar.

A half hour later, the din had subsided. I made a fresh cup of coffee and collected my thoughts. What had I learned from the exercise? Three things. One, some situations require leadership. Two, three children and one grownup is not time to establish a democracy. There is no Bill of Rights. To quote Mel Brooks, “It’s good to be the king.” Three, break the problem down into bite-sized pieces, don’t try to swallow the elephant whole.

That same approach works just as well with EHR grownups; clinical grownups and IT grownups. Improving the interaction takes leadership. Large, institution-changing projects involve pulling people out of their normal routines and relationships.  Solving problems will not involve a kumbaya moment–Program management is not a democracy. To succeed, the program champion, having created a vision, will have to break it down into bite-sized pieces.

 

EHR: there’s a difference between finished and done

Posted by

1

The phone rang last fall. It was the school nurse asking me if I would come pick up my seven year-old son. When I inquired as to the reason she informed me he exhibited the classic symptoms of the crud; tummy-ache, non-responsive, crying. She’s the nurse, so without better information, who was I to question her diagnosis?

We got into the car and the tears started to come again. “Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” I asked as I looked at the leather upholstery. He didn’t answer me other than to whimper. He didn’t seem sick at breakfast. I remembered that he was crying last night, but that had nothing to do with his stomach. At first I thought it was related to the thunder. Nope. He was hugging his favorite dog, a five year-old Bichon.

We had learned a few weeks prior that the Bichon is ill and won’t ever be a six year-old Bichon. The person having the most difficulty with it is my youngest. I asked him if that was why he was crying in class and he confirmed that it was. Dads know everything, at least some times.

So, here’s the deal. The school nurse had done all the right things to diagnose my son’s problem, but she stopped short of determining what was wrong. Let’s try a more relevant situation from the perspective of an EHR implementation.  The word implementation sort of suggests that when you reach the point of having implemented that there’s nothing left to do.

There’s finished and then there’s complete.  Finished doesn’t mean the task is over until the system does what it was supposed to do.  Sort of like when W landed on the aircraft carrier.  If you didn’t do a good job of defining it up front you may never know the breadth of what was intended for the EHR.  In the case of EHR, done includes change management, work flow engineering, training, and user acceptance.

The point is, if it looks like you finished the EHR implementation, double check that you have before you take a bow. Technology alone will not an EHR implementation make, it is simply a part of the overall task.

Patient Relationship Management–why patients and hospitals collide

Posted by

1

When universes collide, or is universi the plural? Not that is matters. I was watching NOVA.  The show focused on the lead singer of the Indie group The Eels.  The show walked through the singer’s attempt to understand was his father had done for a living.  His father was a physicist, in fact he was the person who came up with the notion of colliding universes. Colliding universes has something to do with quantum mechanics and cosmology—did you also wonder what makeup had to do with particle physics? In its rawest meaning, parallel universes have something to do with the notion of identical worlds living side-by-side, with no notion of each other, with differing outcomes from similar events. Got it?  Me either.

I’ll try to illustrate if for nothing else than my own attempt to understand. Let’s say I’m concurrently teaching my two sons to play two different card games, Poker and War. Poker, albeit a game of chance, is heavily rules-based—when to bet, when to fold, when to raise. On the other hand, War is purely a game of chance. The poker player likes rules and order. The one playing war—he’s seven—likes to win, and will do what is required to bring about that outcome. Each one plays independent of the other, using the tools at their disposal to direct the outcome of the game in their favor. They are oblivious to the goals and tactics employed by the person sitting beside them. Parallel universes.

What if we allowed these two universes to collide, to come into conflict with one another? For example, let’s say I have them play each other and I re-deal the cards, giving one the cards he needs for a poker hand, and the other the cards to play war. I then instruct them to play one another. The poker player becomes focused on the rules, and the one playing war has a laser focus on one thing—winning. The poker player quickly caves, knowing that he is engaged in a futile endeavor. This does not bother the other one whose only focus was to win.

Imagine if you will—sort of Rod Serlingish—two other games going on simultaneously, one team whose sole focus is winning, the other whose focus is on the rules. For the rules-based team there is no winning. The best they can ever hope to do is to measure up to the rules by which they are judged. Millions have been spent on technology to help ensure that adherence. Adherence to the rules will be monitored, recorded, reported, and measured. The rules-based team’s ability to continue to play the game will be based solely on how well they follow the rules. Now imagine that the universes in which these two teams are playing collide and these two teams play their separate games but against each other. One team having never been told how to win, never been instructed to win, never even given permission to win. The other team’s only purpose is to win.

This is a nonsense game. One we play every day.  One team is the hospital’s patients the other team is the employees who are tasked with patient customer care, patient relationship management (PRM).  The patients are focused on winning, those tasked with customer care or PRM are not permitted or equipped to win.

It’s possible for these two groups to change the outcome, to take away the nonsense.  To make that happen, the rules must change.  PRM can be very effective provided that it is designed to help the patients “win”, designed to facilitate favorable outcomes for patients.  The trick to changing the outcome is that the hospital must understand that a win for the patients in most cases is also a win for the hospital.

 

The EHR wore Prada: Stilleto Change Management

Posted by

1

I just returned from the Prada show in Milan. Not really—that was the opening line from a piece on NPR. Apparently this year’s runaway hit on the runways has to do with high heels, with the emphasis on the notion of high.

The following comes from the UK Telegraph: The girls looked like rabbits trapped in the headlights; their faces taut and unsmiling, their eyes wide with fear and apprehension. Were they about to undertake a parachute jump? Abseil down a 1,000ft mountain? None of the above. All they were doing was trying to negotiate the catwalk at Prada during this week’s Milan fashion shows in shoes that were virtually impossible to walk in. At least two models tripped and fell on to the concrete floor; others wobbled and stumbled, teetering and tottering, clearly in agony, and all the while their minds were fixated on just one thing: reaching the sanctuary and safety of the backstage area without suffering a similar fate.

According to the NPR reporter, the heels are so high that regular people—women people that is—can’t seem to walk in them without falling. This problem has led to the creation of an entirely new micro-industry. In L.A. and New York, there are classes to teach ladies how to walk in very high heels without hurting themselves. These classes are being offered through dance schools that couldn’t fill their dance classes—they are now booked solid.

Tell me this isn’t the same as trying to walk and chew gum at the same time. Multitasking. Now before I make fun of some thirty year-old that has to relearn how to walk, let us turn our attention back to those dancing—cum—walking schools. From a consultant’s perspective what makes this story interesting is that those businesses saw a need and re-engineered a part of their operation to meet that need, sort of like we’ve been discussing regarding the impact EHR and reform can have on your organization.  With the implementation of EHR, many things will change.  If they don’t require change, you probably wasted your money on the EHR.  What’s important is having a plan to define the change and manage it.  Rework work flows, remove duplicated processes and departments.

Now I’m going to go saw the heels off my wife’s shoes before she hurts herself.