EHR: When you are in a hole, stop digging

 March 21, 2011 07:05

I was thinking about the time I was teaching rappelling in the Rockies during the summer between my two years of graduate school.  The camp was for high school students of varying backgrounds and their counselors.  On more than one occasion, the person on the other end of my rope would freeze and I would have to talk them down safely.

Late one day, a thunderstorm broke quickly over the mountain, causing the counselor on my rope to panic.  No amount of talking was going to get her to move either up or down, so it was up to me to rescue her.  My total amount of rappelling experience was probably only a few more hours than hers.  Nonetheless, I went off belay, and within seconds, I was shoulder to shoulder with her on the face of the cliff.

The sky blackened, and the wind howled, raining bits of rock on us.  I remember that only after I locked her harness to mine did she begin to relax.  She needed to know that she didn’t have to go this alone, and she took comfort knowing someone was willing to help her.

That episode reminds me of a story about a man who fell in a hole.  The man continues to struggle but can’t find a way out.  A CFO walks by.  When the man pleads for help, the CFO writes a check and drops it in the hole.  A while later an EHR vendor walks by—I know this isn’t the real story, but since I am the one writing I’ll tell it the way I want.  Where were we?  The vendor.  The man in the hole pleads for help and the vendor pulls out the contract, reads it, circles some obscure item in the fine print, tosses it in the hole, and walks on.

I walk by and see the man in the hole.  “What are you doing down there?”  I asked.

“I fell in this hole and don’t know how to get out.”

I felt sorry for the man—I’m naturally empathetic—so I hopped into the hole.  “Why did you do that?”  He asked.  “Now we’re both stuck.”

“I’ve been down here before” I said, “And I know the way out.”

I know that’s a little sappy and self-serving.  However, before you decide it’s more comfortable to stay in the hole and hope nobody notices, why not see if there’s someone who knows the way out?

Drafting someone to sort out your EHR problems doesn’t do anything other than add another name to the org chart.  Work plans and org charts are very similar in one key respect—they both have a lot of blank space between the all of the boxes.  And, that is where a lot of the problems arise—in the blank spaces, spaces that have to do with planning, process improvement, and change management.

Everyone is implementing an EHR, but not everyone is doing it correctly.  There is a very special set of IT skills needed to meet the challenges of a failed or failing project.  People with those skills are disaster recovery specialists.  They are the people who jump in the hole with you because they have been in the hole before and they know the way out.

EHR: How do you define progress?

If you and I agreed on everything, one of us wouldn’t be needed.

Of the many special things associated with growing up in America, one is held dearly by every American eight-year old male who owned an AM transistor radio with an earplug; baseball–I am dating myself which is something I promised my counselor I wouldn’t do.

On hot summer nights in the 1960’s, Baltimore’s adults sat on their cement stoops nursing bottles of Carling beer and waiting for their window air conditioners to suck out the heat.  Their male offspring lay in bed, a plastic earplug dangling from their ear as they turned the dial of their transistor radio to find the lone radio station covering the Baltimore Orioles. In spite of the constant static, they faithfully kept score on a hand-drawn score sheet in their black and white Composition notebook.

My scorecard was homemade; carefully drafted using a pencil and something relatively straight to draw the lines that separated each of the nine innings. Unlike today, when the concept of team has given way to the concept of players whose loyalty lies with the highest bidder—free agents, the lineup for the Orioles rarely changed by more than a player or two each year.

The Orioles team pennant hung on my bedroom wall, and on my dresser was their team photo along with my membership card to the Junior Orioles. Next to me as I kept score was my tattered shoe box containing my collection of baseball trading cards, sorted by team and held together by rubber bands.  A few hundred stale sticks of pink powdered bubble gum that came with each five-pack of cards was stacked neatly in one end of the box. The cards for the opposing team were spread before me so I could get the lineup and study their batting statistics.

What made me think of this was that the last of our snow had melted, and opening day is less than a month away.  Last year my son and I went to a minor league game. Although the grass was just as green, and the hot dogs smelled the same, nothing was the same. Still, it beat a stick in the eye. Things change. Baseball changed, and nobody conferred with me before changing it. At the game I didn’t see a single person keeping a scorecard, let alone a dad teaching his son or daughter how to keep the score. The only constant throughout the game was the commercialization.

That’s progress. Or maybe not. Some progress is good. Some progress doesn’t exist even though everybody around it believes that it does.

Implementing new technology doesn’t in and of itself infer progress, it simply means you bought more technology. Not convinced? How is the productivity of your EHR?  Add up all the money you’ve spent on EHR and technology and recalculate your RIO.  Was it worth it?

Ray, people will come Ray. They’ll come to Iowa for reasons they can’t even fathom. They’ll turn up your driveway not knowing for sure why they’re doing it. They’ll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. Of course, we won’t mind if you look around, you’ll say. It’s only $20 per person. They’ll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and peace they lack. And they’ll walk out to the bleachers; sit in shirtsleeves on a perfect afternoon. They’ll find they have reserved seats somewhere along one of the baselines, where they sat when they were children and cheered their heroes. And they’ll watch the game and it’ll be as if they dipped themselves in magic waters. The memories will be so thick they’ll have to brush them away from their faces. People will come Ray. The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball. America has rolled by like an army of steamrollers. It has been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt and erased again. But baseball has marked the time. This field, this game: it’s a part of our past, Ray. It reminds of us of all that once was good and it could be again. Oh… people will come Ray. People will most definitely come.
-Terrance Mann in the movie, “Field of Dreams”

I tear up every time Ray asks, “Want to have a catch dad?”

 

Healthcare IT: Shave the Cat

As I was going up the stair, I met a man who wasn’t there.

He wasn’t there again today…I think, I think, he’d gone away.

This particular fellow happened to be a CIO.  Now, before you throw tomatoes at your monitor, he was atypical; I hope.

We were talking about the various healthcare initiatives that have his attention as the CIO of a hospital.

EHR—done

Meaningful Use—we will pass it in April

Planning for HIPAA 5010 and ICD-10—starting in July

He did not even blink.  It was almost like he was bemused by the triviality of what he faced.  Listening to him, it sounded like he was reading from a scrap of paper he had pulled from hi pants pocket:

  1. Pick up one gallon of milk
  2. Finish EHR
  3. Drop off dry cleaning
  4. Collect ARRA money
  5. Shave the cat
  6. Convert ten thousand systems to 5010
  7. Walk on water

If there is a difference between being confident and being grounded in reality, he may be the poster child.

EHR: Show me the money

Every wonder how it is that all the billions in healthcare IT money came about?  I imagine it went something like this.

DC 1: Email those fellows over at HHS and tell them we should just make the doctors install Electronic Health Records (EHR).

DC 2: While we’re at it, how about we pay them a bonus to do it…

DC 1: …and we penalize them if they don’t.  Give them money with one hand and take it back with the other.

DC 2: How do we get EHRs to communicate?

DC 1: Make the states do figure it out.  They are looking for more money.

DC 2: I’ll email the governors and tell them we’ve got more billions to pass around.  Let them build some sort of Information Exchange.  They can set up committees and staff them with appointees.

DC 1: Then we can glue those together in some kind of national network.  Where are we going to get one of those?  Figure another ten billion for that.

DC 2: I’ll email the DOD, they are supposed to know something about building national networks.

DC 1: Just to get things kick-started, let’s email the troops and tell them we’ll sweeten the state pots a little more.  Get them to build these extension centers on a region by region basis.

All these dollars, so little value.  Most of it focused on trying to figure out how to get millions of somethings from point A to point B.

How did all those millions of emails get securely from point A to point B?  For a lot less than forty billion dollars isn’t it possible to figure out  how to get my health information to whomever needs it?  Email me, maybe we can come up with an idea for a network.

If you’re still puzzled, we can play hangman.  It has eight letters, starts with an ‘I’, and ends with ‘ternet’.

 

HIT/EHR: A little adult supervision

Among other things, EHR requires adult supervision like parenting.  My morning was moving along swimmingly.  Kids were almost out the door and I thought I’d get a batch of bread underway before heading out for my run.  I was at the step where you gradually add three cups of flour—I was in a hurry and dumped it all in at once.  This is when the eight-year-old hopped on the counter and turned on the mixer.  He didn’t just turn it on, he turned it ON—power level 10.

If you’ve ever been in a blizzard, you are probably familiar with the term whiteout.   On either side of the mixer sat two of my children, the dog was on the floor.  In an instant the three of them looked like they had been flocked—like the white stuff sprayed on Christmas trees—I guess we could call them evergreens—to make them look snow-covered.  (I just em-dashed and em-dash, wonder how the AP Style Book likes that.)  So, the point I was going for is that sometimes, adult supervision is required.

What exactly is Health IT, or HIT?  I may be easier asking what HIT isn’t.  One way to look at it is to consider the iPhone.  For the most part the iPhone is a phone, an email client, a camera, a web browser, and an MP3 player.  The other 85,000 things are other things that happen to interact with or reside on the device.

In order for us to implement correctly (it sounds better when you spilt the infinitive) HIT and EHR a little focus on blocking and tackling are in order.  Some write that EHR may be used to help with everything from preventing hip fractures to diagnosing the flu—you know what, so can doctor’s.  There are probably things EHR can be made to do, but that’s not what they were designed to do, not why you want one, and not why Washington wants you to want one.  No Meaningful Use bonus point will be awarded to providers who get ancillary benefits from their EHR especially if they don’t get it to do what it is supposed to do.

EHR, if done correctly, will be the most difficult, expensive, and far reaching project undertaken by a hospital.  It should prove to be at least as complicated as building a new hospital wing.  If it doesn’t, you’ve done something wrong.

EHR is not one of those efforts where one can apply tidbits of knowledge gleaned from bubblegum wrapper MBA advice like “Mongolian Horde Management” and “Everything I needed to know I learned playing dodge ball”.

There’s an expression in football that says when you pass the ball there are three possible outcomes and only one of them is good—a completion.  EHR sort of works the same, except the range of bad outcomes is much larger.

 

Pigeon Project Management Office (PMO)

I just finished stacking two cords of wood, much like a squirrel getting ready for a long cold winter. My feet were doing the “Boy is it cold dance” in an effort to keep the blood circulating.

As I was picking up the scraps, my eldest picked up a piece and placed it in his backpack. When I asked him what he would do with it he told me he was going to carve it after school. His statement brought back boyhood memories of hours of whittling, an activity done if for no other reason than to get from one minute to the next. Grab a stick and whittle it away until there was nothing left.  What next? Grab another. The weight of the pocketknife felt equally good in my hand as it did in my pocket.

When is the last time the thought of whittling crossed your mind? Probably been a long time. It’s an activity meant for idle minds and hands, or minds that should be idle.

Speaking of idle minds, there are times I find myself questioning what value so and so brings to the party. Do you do that?  “Why is she in this meeting?”  You know who I mean. You’re sitting there trying to get your work done and all of a sudden, some Mensa wannabe with more idle time on their hands than a Lipitor salesman at a BBQ cook-off, makes an aerial assault on your cubicle like a pigeon on a Rodin bronze.  Drops in and changes the rules of the universe, at least your universe.

This happens more often than is documented on large healthcare IT projects.  People set new courses and define program rules that may have nothing whatsoever to do with the project’s charter or scope.  You do have a written charter and scope in the project office, don’t you?  If not, it’s easy to see how new directions and rules can be given a certain specious authority.

What’s the best way to handle this situation? Often these management Mensas are nervous about a lack of visible results and they need to report on something.  They may feel the need to be doing something, something resembling leading.  They don’t mean to interfere, and they believe that their little forays into the world of super PMO (Program Management Officer) will actually add value. You tell me, are they adding value, or are they preventing the team from sticking to the scope? There’s that irritating scope word again.  The next time you see one wandering aimlessly through the rows of cubicles, hand that person a pocketknife and a nice piece of balsa wood.  Although their efforts won’t add any value to what you’re trying to accomplish, at least it will get them out of the way for a little while.

EHR: know when to ask for help

I was thinking about the time I was teaching rappelling in the Rockies during the summer between my two years of graduate school.  The camp was for high school students of varying backgrounds and their counselors.  On more than one occasion, the person on the other end of my rope would freeze and I would have to talk them down safely.

Late in the day, a thunderstorm broke quickly over the mountain, causing the counselor on my rope to panic.  No amount of talking was going to get her to move either up or down, so it was up to me to rescue her.  I may have mentioned in a prior post that my total amount of rappelling experience was probably no more than a few more hours than hers.  Nonetheless, I went off belay, and within seconds, I was shoulder to shoulder with her.

The sky blackened, and the wind howled, raining bits of rock on us.  I remember that only after I locked her harness to mine did she begin to relax.  She needed to know that she didn’t have to go this alone, and she took comfort knowing someone was willing to help her.

That episode reminds me of a story I heard about a man who fell in a hole—if you know how this turns out, don’t tell the others.  He continues to struggle but can’t find a way out.  A CFO walks by.  When the man pleads for help the CFO writes a check and drops it in the hole.  A while later the vendor walks by—I know this isn’t the real story, but it’s my blog and I’ll tell it any way I want.  Where were we?  The vendor.  The man pleads for help and the vendor pulls out the contract, reads it, circles some obscure item in the fine print, tosses it in the hole, and walks on.

I walk by and see the man in the hole.  “What are you doing there?”  I asked.

“I fell in the hole and don’t know how to get out.”

I felt sorry for the man—I’m naturally empathetic—so I hopped into the hole.  “Why did you do that?  Now we’re both stuck.”

“I’ve been down here before” I said, “And I know the way out.”

I know that’s a little sappy and self-serving.  But before you decide it’s more comfortable to stay in the hole and hope nobody notices, why not see if there’s someone who knows the way out?

How’s the national EHR roll-out going?


I just fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down. But lest I get ahead of myself, let us begin at the beginning. It started with homework–not mine–theirs. Among the three children of which I had oversight; coloring, spelling, reading, and exponents. How do parents without a math degree help their children with sixth-grade math?

“My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives.” Hedley Lamar (Blazing Saddles). Unfortunately, mine, as I was soon to learn was merely flooded. Homework, answering the phone, running baths, drying hair, stories, prayers. The quality of my efforts seemed to be inversely proportional to the number of efforts undertaken. Eight-thirty–all three children tucked into bed.

Eight-thirty-one. The eleven-year-old enters the room complaining about his skinned knee. Without a moment’s hesitation, Super Dad springs into action, returning moments later with a band aid and a tube of salve. Thirty seconds later I was beaming–problem solved. At which point he asked me why I put Orajel on his cut. My wife gave me one of her patented “I told you so” smiles, and from the corner of my eye, I happened to see my last viable neuron scamper across the floor.

One must tread carefully as one toys with the upper limits of the Peter Principle. There seems to be another postulate overlooked in the Principia Mathematica, which states that the number of spectators will grow exponentially as one approaches their limit of ineptitude.

Another frequently missed postulate is that committees are capable of accelerating the time required to reach their individual ineptitude limit. They circumvent the planning process to get quickly to doing, forgetting to ask if what they are doing will work. They then compound the problem by ignoring questions of feasibility, questions for which the committee is even less interested in answering. If we were discussing particle theory we would be describing a cataclysmic chain reaction, the breakdown of all matter. Here we are merely describing the breakdown of a national EHR roll out.

What is your point?  Fair question.  How will we get EHR to work?  I know “Duh” is not considered a term of art in any profession, however, it is exactly the word needed.  It appears they  are deciding that this—“this” being the current plan that will enable point-to-point connection of an individual record—will not work, and 2014 may be in jeopardy—not the actual year, interoperability.  Thanks for riding along with us, now return your seat back and tray table to their upright and most uncomfortable position.

Even as those who are they throw away their membership in the flat earth society, those same they’s continue to press forward in Lemming-lock-step as though nothing is wrong.

It is a failed plan.  It can’t be tweaked.  We can’t simply revisit RHIOs and HIEs.  We have reached the do-over moment, not necessarily at the provider level, although marching along without standards will cause a great deal of rework for healthcare providers.  Having reached that moment, let us do something.  Focusing on certification, ARRA, and meaningful use will prove to be nothing more than a smoke screen.

The functionality of most installed EHRs ends at the front door.  We have been discussing that point for a few months.  When you reach the fork in the road, take it.  Each dollar spent from this moment forth going down the wrong EHR tine will cost two dollars to overcome.  To those providers who are implementing EHR I recommend in the strongest possible terms that you stop and reconsider your approach.

Kind Regards,
Paul

Paul M. Roemer
Managing Partner, Healthcare IT Strategy

1475 Luna Drive, Downingtown, PA 19335
+1 (484) 885-6942
paulroemer@healthcareitstrategy.com

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Contact me: Google Talk/paulroemer Skype/paulroemer Google Wave/paulroemer

EHR Short Cuts

How able are you to conjure up your most brainless moment—don’t worry, we aren’t on the EHR part yet.

As I was running in San Diego I was passed by a harem of seals—Navy Seals.  Some of them were in better shape than me, I couldn’t judge the fitness of the others as they ran by me too fast.  That got me thinking.  For those who having been regular readers, you’ll know this is where I have a tendency to drive myself over a cliff.

Seeing the Seals took me back to my wistful days as a cadet at the US Air Force Academy.  Coincidentally, my hair looked then a lot like it looks now.  One of the many pastimes they tossed our way for their amusement and our survival was orienteering; sort of map reading on steroids.  One night they took us to the foothills of the Colorado Rockies, paired off the doolies, gave us a set of map coordinates, a compass, map, and flashlight.  The way training worked, those who proved to be the fastest at mastering skills fared better than those who weren’t.  Hence, there was plenty of incentive to outperform everyone; including getting yourself to believe you could do things better than you could, sort of a confidence building program.

We were deposited in a large copse—I’ve always liked that word—of trees—I don’t know, but it seems adding trees to the phrase is somewhat redundant.  We had to orient ourselves and then figure out how to get to five consecutive locations.  The sun had long since set as we made our way through the treed canyon and back up a steep ravine.  After some moments of searching we found the marker indicating we were at point Able.  The group started to examine the information that would direct our journey to point Bravo.

While they honed their skills, I was examining the map, taking some bearings with the compass, and trying to judge the terrain via the moonlight.  My roommate, a tall lanky kid from Dothan, Alabama asked why I didn’t appear to be helping.

“Look at this,” I replied.  “Do you see that light over there, just to the right of that bluff?  I think I’ve found us a shortcut.”

“What about it?”  Asked Dothan.

“If my calculations are correct, that light is about here,” I said and showed them on my map.  “It can’t be more than a hundred yards from point Delta.”

“So?”

“So why go from Alpha to Bravo to Charlie to Delta, if we can go right to Delta from here?  That will knock off at least an hour.”  I had to show my calculations a few times to turn them into believers, but one by one they came aboard.  The moon disappeared behind an entire bank of thunderheads.  We were uniformly upbeat as we made our way in the growing blackness through the national forest.  Unlike the way most rains begin, that night the sky seemed to open upon us like a burst paper bag.

“Get our bearing,” I instructed Dothan.  As it was my idea, I was now the de facto leader.  As we were in a gully, getting our bearings required Dothan to climb a large evergreen.

“I don’t see it,” he hollered over the wind-swept rain squalls.  I scurried up, certain that he was either an idiot or blind.

“Do you see the light?”  They asked me.  I looked again.  Checked my map.  Checked my compass.  “It has to be there,” I yelled.

A voice floated up to me.  To me I thought it probably sounded a lot like the voice Moses heard from God as he was building the Ark.  (Just checking to see if you’re paying attention.)  “What if they turned off the light?”

I almost fell out of the tree like an apple testing the laws of gravity.  What if someone had turned off the light?  There was no ‘what if’ to consider.  That is exactly what happened.  Some inconsiderate homeowner had turned off their porch light and left us stranded.

Fast forward.  We were lost, real lost.  We didn’t finish last, but we did earn extra exercise the next day, penalized for being creative.  Who’da thunk it?

Short cuts.  When they work, you’re a headliner.  When they fail, chances are you’re also a headliner—writing the wrong kind of headlines.  I hate being redundant, but with EHR we may be dealing with the single largest expenditure in your organization.  It will cost twice as much to do it over as it will to do it right.  If you haven’t done this before—I won’t embarrass anyone by asking for a show of hands—every extra day you add to the planning process will come back to you several fold.  There may be short cuts you can take, but planning should not be one of them.  How much should we plan?  How long should it take?  Who should participate?  We will look at each of those questions in some detail.  For now, let’s answer those three questions with; more than you think, longer than you’ve planned for it to take, and different skills than you’re currently using.

Paul M. Roemer
Managing Partner, Healthcare IT Strategy

1475 Luna Drive, Downingtown, PA 19335
+1 (484) 885-6942
paulroemer@healthcareitstrategy.com

My profiles: LinkedInTwitter
My blog: Healthcare IT Strategy My thoughts on “One EMR Vendor’s View of Meaningful Use”

EHR market share

The link below takes you to a post written by Software Advice’s Chris Thorman regarding the market share for inpatient and outpatient EHRs.  It is designed to be a collaborative piece, and Chris is asking for feedback and correction.  I found it to be a well-written and helpful piece, perhaps you also will.

http://www.softwareadvice.com/articles/medical/ehr-software-market-share-analysis-1051410/

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

1475 Luna Drive, Downingtown, PA 19335
+1 (484) 885-6942
paulroemer@healthcareitstrategy.com

My profiles: LinkedInWordPressTwitterMeetupBlog RSS
Contact me: Google Talk/paulroemer Skype/paulroemer Google Wave/paulroemer