When Patients Rule: Crowdsourcing & S-CRM

The one application of crowdsourcing that is most overlooked is one which hardly fits the definition. This type is not premeditated. It is the type where the “machine” is a means to an end, and it does not originate at the organization. In fact, the organization is the target of this type of crowdsourcing—Social-CRM.

Most definitions of crowdsourcing include the notion of a call going out to a group of individuals who are then gathered via the call to solve a complex problem, acting like a shared problem solving methodology, much like the theory of Law of Large Numbers.

The crowd is likely to have an upper limit in terms of the number of members. By default, traditional crowdsourcing is fashioned to work from the top down; it is outbound, a push model.

Social-CRM (S-CRM) tends to work from the bottom up. There are no boundaries to the number of members; in fact, there can be thousands of members. Also atypical is the fact with S-CRM no single event or call to action drives the formation of the crowd. The crowd can have as many events as it has members.

The unifying force around S-CRM is each member’s perspective of a given firm or organization. Members are often knitted together by having felt wronged or put-off by an action, product, or service provided or not provided by said organization. Most organizations do not listen to, nor do they have a means by which they can communicate with the S-CRM crowdsource. This in turn causes the membership to grow, and to become even more steadfast in the individual missions of their members.

In traditional crowdsourcing, once the problem solving ends, the crowd no longer has a reason to exist, and it disbands. With S-CRM crowdsourcing, since the problem never seems to go away, neither does the crowd.

Every firm has one or more S-CRM groups biting at its ankles, hurting its image, hurting the brand, causing customers to flee, and disrupting the business model. Even so, most organizations ignore the S-CRM crowd just like someone ignores their crazy Uncle Pete who disrupts every family gathering.

EHR–the five stages of grief

Being a blogger is not too dissimilar to being a failure’s biographer.  Unless you simply repeat the ideas of your contemporaries, good blogging requires a certain avidity to oppugn those who revel in the notion that theirs was the only good idea.  To me, their Sang-froid calmness has all the appeal of a cold omelet.  Good writing requires that you make intellectual enemies across a range of subjects, and that you have the tenacity to hold on to those enemies.  So let us step off Chekhov’s veranda and bid farewell to the sisters of Prozorova.

The Kübler-Ross model, commonly known as the five stages of grief, was first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying.  I heard a story about this on NPR, and it made me think about other scenarios where these stages might apply.

My first powered form of transport was a green Suzuki 250cc motorcycle.  My girlfriend knitted me a green scarf to match the bike.  One afternoon my mother walked into the family room, saw me, and burst into tears.  When I asked her what was wrong, she told me that one her way home she saw a green motorcycle lying on the road surrounded by police cars and an ambulance—she thought I had crashed.  I asked her why, if she thought that was me lying on the road, she did not stop.

My girlfriend’s mother, didn’t like my motorcycle—nor did she like me.  Hence, my first car; a 1969 Corvair.  Three hundred and fifty dollars.  Bench seats, AM radio.  Maroon—ish.  It reminded me a lot of Fred Flintstone’s car in that in several places one could view the street through the floor.  Twenty miles per gallon of gas, fifty miles per quart of oil.

Buyer’s remorse.  We’ve all had it.  There is a lot of buyer’s remorse going around with EHR, a lot of the five stages of grief.  I see it something like this:

  • Denial—the inability to grasp that you spent a hundred million dollars or more on EHR the wrong EHR, one that will never meet your needs
  • Anger—the EHR sales person received a six-figure bonus, and you got a commemorative coffee mug.  The vendor’s VP of Ruin MY life, took you off his speed dial, unfriended you in Facebook, and has blocked your Tweets. You phone calls to the vendor executive go unanswered, and are returned by a junior sales rep who thinks the issue may be that you need to purchase additional training.
  • Bargaining—when you have to answer to your boss, likely the same person who told you which system to purchase, as to why productivity is below what it was when the physicians charted in crayon.
  • Depression—you come in at least fifteen minutes late, and use the side door, taking the stairs so you won’t see anyone.  You just stare at your desk; but it looks like you are working. You do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. You estimate that in a given week you probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work. (Borrowed from the movie, Office Space.)
  • Acceptance—the EHR does not work, it will never work, you won’t be around to see it if it ever does.  Your hospital won’t see a nickel of the ARRA money.  You realize the lake house you were building will never be yours, but the mortgage will be.

The five stages of EHR grief.  Where are you in the grieving process?

True, there are a handful of EHR successes.  Not nearly as many as the vendors would have you believe.  More than half of hospital EHR implementations are considered to have failed.

If you are just starting the process, or are knee-deep in vendor apathy you have two options.  You can bring in the A-team, people who know how to run big ugly projects, or you prepare to grieve.

If it was me, I’d be checking Facebook to see if I was still on my vendor’s list of friends.

Fitting Your Square Hospital into a Round ACO Hole

(reposted from this week’s healthsystemcio.com)

I have spent time over the past few weeks speaking with healthcare executives to get their perspective on ACOs, also known as Attorneys and Consultants Opportunities. For the most part, people are in general agreement when it comes to describing the function of an ACO.

So much for the good news. Where the process breaks down is when those same executives were asked to describe what approach is required to enable an ACO to work in a generic hospital.

While there are many people claiming to know the in’s and out’s of ACOs, we all know there is not a lot of expertise regarding how to implement an ACO. There are not a lot of people who have “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”

When faced with finding a solution to a problem which I have no way to solve, I find it helpful to redefine the problem into one which I do know how to solve. If I take this approach with ACOs, it helps me to redefine it for what it is—a big, ugly program—a BUP. The good news is that I know what works and what does not work when it comes to dealing with BUPs.

There are two ways to tackle a BUP. One way is to study your organization and figure out how to get the program to work within your hospital’s framework. The other way is to figure out what the program needs to deliver, and then determine what needs to happen to the framework to enable the program to work.

I liken the two approaches to fitting puzzle pieces together. Let us define Puzzle A as the hospital’s framework, and Puzzle B as the ACO program (not an IT program). Under the first approach, you remove pieces from Puzzle B until you get it to fit. The problem with this approach is that by the time you finally get it to fit Puzzle B, the ACO no longer resembles an ACO.

Using the other approach — figuring what pieces must be removed from Puzzle A in order for Puzzle B, the ACO, to remain whole — provides the best chance of creating a viable ACO. One may wish to argue against this approach by saying that to create the ACO requires dismantling part of the hospital’s framework.

Indeed it does, but maybe that is not as bad as it sounds.

Many EHRs were implemented in such a way as to dismantle a lot of their functionality in order to get the EHR to fit the hospital’s framework. This “lesser” EHR is now part of that disrupted framework and has made it even more disrupted.

Perhaps the time has come to think about reengineering the framework before sacrificing the functionality of yet another program.

Patient Experience Management (PEM): Left Brainers, Right Brainers, and No Brainers

Sometimes I feel a little like the ambassador from the planet Common Sense, and unfortunately very few of us speak the same language. Let’s see if we can segment the Patient Experience Management (PEM) population into left brainers, and right brainers. I am wrestling with an issue that I believe is a no-brainer.

One point, upon which both sides seem to agree, is that without the patients, PEM would be superfluous. The breakdown is that for a hospital to flourish in the long term, hospitals should re-engineer their business processes to facilitate the dissolution or substantive reduction of traditional customer service.  This extends beyond the cordial relationship of a nurse or a doctor and their patients in hospital beds.

In many, if not most instances, the very existence of traditional customer service provides a vehicle which acts as an enabler for failure. It gives hospitals permission to be mediocre in dealing with their interactions with their patients and physicians. In effect, traditional customer service is a tacit admission to the employees and the patients, “We don’t always get it right. We don’t always do our best.

Before deciding not to read further, ask yourself a few questions. The purpose of the questions is to try and articulate a quantifiable business goal for customer service, PEM.

1. Does customer service have planned revenue targets
2. Does it have its own P&L?
3. Does it have a measurable ROI?
4. What is the loaded cost for each patient and doctor interaction?
5. Could the costs of those interactions be eliminated by fixing something in operations?

If the answers to 1-3 are no, the answer to 4 is unknown, and the answer to 5 is yes, your hospital inadvertently made the decision to ignore revenues and to incur expenses that provide no value to your organization. I believe this premise can be proved easily.

The careers of many people are directly tied to the need to have customer service and call centers. Big is good. Bigger is better. Software, hardware, telecommunications, networks—more is better. Calls are the lifeblood of every call center. Without those calls, the call center dies. Calls are good, more calls are better.

When was the last time you were in a meeting when someone said something like, “In the last three years our patient call volume has continued to increase,” or, “Calls have gone up by forty percent.” That part may sound familiar. The phrase nobody has heard is, “We can’t continue to add that many calls.” Tenure and capital. That part of the business is managed with the expectation that the number of calls will continue to grow. And guess what? It does. How prophetic is that? Or is it pathetic? You decide.

Given that, how does the typical healthcare provider manage their customer service investment? Play with the numbers. In many organizations, if customer service management can show that patient satisfaction is holding steady, no matter how bad it is, and they can use the numbers to show that some indicator has moved in a favorable direction, other areas of the business are led to believe that customer service is performing well.

Memo to those executives who are authorizing customer service expenditures—I want to make sure there is no mistaking how I view the issue. If that is what you are hearing from your customer service managers, they either don’t understand their responsibility, or they understand it and they don’t want you to understand it.

To be generous, if patient satisfaction with regard to customer service is below ninety-five percent, your customer service is in serious need of a re-think. Just because patient satisfaction is not tanking faster does not mean customer service is functional.

Most executives know how to get numbers to paint whatever picture they need to paint. Beware the sleight of hand. Any time the customer service manager comes to you and says he is improving operations by reducing the average amount of time someone spends on the phone talking to a patient (average handle time), don’t believe anything else he tells you. Allow me to translate. When the customer service budget is tight (too many interactions and too few people with which to interact) the way to make it fit the budget is to make your people end the call quicker. Shorter calls mean more calls per hour. Note—speed buys you nothing, except for more repeat calls, less resolution, less patient satisfaction. It’s a measure of speed—IT IS NOT A MEASURE OF ACCOMPLISHMNET.

I’d be willing to bet that somewhere between twenty-five and fifty percent of calls from your patients and physicians can be addressed better via a combination of social media and the Internet.

“FaceBook” EHR –Visionary, or is it time for me to take a nap?

This is what happens when my mind is allowed to free-associate when I run. I was watching a show on the science channel on the mathematics behind the principle of “6 degrees of separation and Small World”. The show demonstrated that very simple networks can be developed to get person A to any other person or entity, B.

This got me thinking–always a dangerous proposition–why couldn’t Small World networks be developed for EHR on a national level?  One Super EHR. Cradle to grave healthcare records, one person (patient) and at time via a Small World network. Super EMRs, patient owned, to a single, repeatable, standardized EHR.  Eliminate the RHIOs with their multiplicitous standards, eliminate hospital’s mini-EHRs.  Document the functionality required of the specialist practices and enable the data to be captured at the EMR level.

EHRBook; but with real privacy controls.

What do you think?

EHR: Advice for your next CIO

With all the efforts underway with EHR, it’s only natural that some efforts will have problems, and those leading the efforts may be replaced.

If you’re the new EHR lead, how do you know what to do tomorrow?  You walk in to your new office; a withered Ficus tree is leaning awkwardly against the far wall, vestiges of a spider’s web dangle from a dead leaf.

You place your yellowed coffee mug on the worn desk, change out of your sneakers, and after rubbing your feet, slip on a pair of black Bruno Magli pumps.  The feel of the supple leather relaxes you.

You spot the three envelopes that are stacked neatly on the credenza.  A hand-written note on Crane stationary reads, “If there is an emergency, open the first envelope”.  You place the three envelops in your YSL attaché case, and go about trying to salvage the EHR implementation.

Three weeks pass.  Things are not going well.  You are summoned to meet with the hospital’s COO.  After checking your makeup, you retrieve the first envelope and read it.  “Blame me,” it reads.  You were going to do that anyway.

Two more months.  The vendor has become a sepsis in the lifeblood of the organization—pretty good word for a math major.  You are summoned to meet with the CEO.  After checking your makeup, you bang your first on your desk, tipping over your coffee, and spilling it all over your Dolce & Gabbana suit.  You don’t have time to change.  You retrieve the second envelope and read it.  “Blame the budget,” it reads.  You were going to do that anyway.

Six months.  Deadlines missed.  Staff quit.  Vendor staff doubles.  Vendor output cut by half.

You are summoned before the board.  You no long check your makeup—you haven’t worn makeup since the day you publically went mano y mano with the head of the cardiology department inside the surgical theater, demanding to see his updated work flows.  You still haven’t been able to get the blood off of your Hermès scarf that he used as a towel.  You are dressed in a pair of faded jeans and your son’s black AC/DC T-shirt, the one with the skull on the back.  You don’t care.

As you reach in the desk drawer for the third envelope, you realize you haven’t had a manicure in four months.  You feel like a disenfranchised U.S Postal employee.  You have become the poster child for the human genome project run amuck.  Somebody is going to lose their DNA today.

You open the third envelope.  “Prepare three envelopes,” it reads.  You were going to do that anyway.

How should a provider approach Meaningful Use?

Of cabbages—and kings— And how does all that focus on Meaningful Use affect ones’ ability to address ICD-10?

And why the sea is boiling hot—and whether pigs have wings. Lewis Carroll, Out of the Looking Glass. It is a nonsense story, one which cannot be argued.

As are Electronic Health Records (EHR) and Meaningful Use (MU)—at least to date. Measured against any reasonable set of standards, except on a one-off basis, the national rollouts of EHR and MU have failed. I expect it will be even more so next year.
You, the public, have the right to comment, and we have the right to tell you why your comments hold no water. I think it is the inverse of you have the right to remain silent, you just don’t have the ability. I am writing about the ONC and the bone they tossed calling for public comment. They are required to provide for public comment in order to remove the N and the P from the NPRM.

Who among us believes the rule making will markedly shift direction as a result of any of the public comments? That is unfortunate for if they were to shift direction they might find a direction. We don’t know where we are going, but we are making good time getting there. Figures suggest a failure rate of EHR implementations of somewhere between fifty and seventy percent. As healthcare IT resources become scarcer, I expect the failure rate to increase. As providers rush into EHR without a detailed strategy simply to grab the incentive money, there will be more expensive failures. More failed EHRs is not a way to measure progress.
The current cover of Government Health HIT magazine depicts a foot race to meet MU. There is no race if there are no entrants. There may be more people on the cover than will actually qualify for the race, even fewer who will reach the end.

We would be better served if the plan for national rollout of EHR were not written on an Etch-A-Sketch. We don’t know what will be included in Stages 2 and 3 of MU. When will fifty percent of providers have an EHR, not just the software, but one that actually boosts productivity? How about 70% or 80%? Ten years? I ask the same question of the Health Information Exchanges (HIEs). Without unilateral adoption there will be large gaps. Will the national network function with these gaps? To what extent? Will the records only make it part of the way from Patient A to Doctor X?

Having not solved the EHR program on their own, and having no viable plan, the government laid the burden of making EHR successful on the backs of the providers. The government tries to offset the burden by offering financial gratuities—and penalties—to the providers. Not exactly the second coming of the Three Wise Men. Trying to hit the ONC’s targets is a little like playing the confidence game, the shell game. Under which shell will providers find the rules, the plan?
What to do?

It is easy to criticize. Permit me to offer a few suggestions. To the hospitals, if you are not well along the EHR path, do not make a difficult effort more difficult by chasing Gossamer incentive dollars. Stick to your plan. You have multiple failure points which three years from now will make chasing those dollars look like a pipe dream. The failure points? Your plan, the implementation, meeting the MU requirements, passing the MU audit. It does not look very promising to me.

To those hospitals which haven’t started their EHR initiative, or are less than halfway through the passing the failure points, don’t cancel your summer vacation. You have a lot more time to get it right then you have to get it wrong. Pay no attention to the man—or woman; even I can have a moment—handing out the Monopoly money. You won’t be receiving any. From where I sit, that is good news. It will cost a lot more to perform disaster recovery on a poor implementation than the funds you would have received by meeting MU.

How long does a hospital spend planning to build a new hospital wing? For large hospitals, the cost of your EHR will likely exceed the cost of the new wing. Plan accordingly. Invest six or nine months building a plan that might succeed.

For medium and small practices and solo providers you have nothing to lose by waiting a year months other than the resource problem. By then you will find very viable ASP and shrink-wrapped solutions.

Those who follow my blog, healthcareitstrategy.com, know I don’t write to garner favorable replies from those who think they’ve already got it figured out. I write for those who because of EHR have difficulty sleeping. Thanks for reading. As always, I appreciate your comments and disagreements.

How to handicap selecting your EHR

Several years ago I was invited to go on the ultimate boys’ toys, weekend getaway. A dozen of us flew from Denver to Utah, and then drove to a point somewhere west of Bozeman Montana. It was to be a weekend of sport, a weekend of competition, and a more than occasional libation. To say that the people who organized the trip came from money would be a major understatement. They were in the oil bid’ ness. The father of one of the guys was the CEO of the second or third largest petroleum company in North America. We stayed at his ranch, a 12 bedroom log cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Montana, which is about 20 miles west of Next to Nowhere, Montana.

The weekend’s activities included fly fishing, duck hunting, and Gin Rummy. Each participant was given a handicap rating in each event. The idea behind the rating was that if you are weak in one event, you were paired with an individual who is skilled in that event. In theory, that would level the playing field among the teams. Since I have never fly-fished or hunted I was odd man out. But I was game, and it’s amazing how good one can become at something when one has to fight their way through it.

Let the games begin. We started the competition with a full day of fly-fishing. Our destination was the Madison River, an impressive, fast running, expanse of snow melt. The stretch we would finish was about 150 feet wide, and its average depth was somewhere between waist and chest high. As I would soon learn the bottom was covered with what appeared to be the equivalent of moss covered bowling balls. I was instructed by one of the more experienced fishermen to tie a nymph to the end of the tippet. For those of you who are as novice to the sport as I was, a nymph is an artificial lure which mimics an insect larva. It is designed to lure fish who feed along the bottom, not the nubile young woman referenced in Greek mythology.

We fished for several hours. My legs ached from trying to maintain my balance in the strong current. I was about ready to admit defeat when the tip of my rod bent sharply into the water. Standing perpendicular to the current, I could see as the brightly speckled back of a large rainbow trout turned upstream. Naturally, I turned upstream with it and began to try to reel him in. First mistake. It was at that point that I first realized that the height of the water was now about level with my chest waders. Second mistake. The guys on the other part of the river and along the bank were yelling at me. I thought it was words of encouragement. Final mistake. As it turns out, they were trying to convince me not to turn upstream. At the exact moment that I faced stream head on, was the exact moment my feet lost purchase with those moss covered bowling balls of which I wrote. Turning yet again to my physics, I quickly recalled the equation; force equals mass times acceleration. Instantaneously, I was swept downstream, still clutching my fly rod in my right hand.

Wayne Newton’s first law of fluid mechanics took over; waders, no matter how good they are, if positioned in a plane that is horizontal to the river will fill rapidly with water, just as mine did. The choice with which I was faced was do I save myself and lose the fish, or do I try and land the fish? One of the shortcomings of maleness—I was going to use maledom until I Googled it—is that we rarely have actual choices, especially when we are around other males or for that matter, females. Naturally, I opted to land the fish. My reel had become dislocated from my rod. I remember grabbing the reel and stuffing it down my waders, and as I tried to float my body as though it was a raft without a rudder towards the river’s nearest bank, I began to reel in the monofilament with a hand over hand motion. After several minutes I was standing dripping wet and proudly displaying a 19 inch rainbow trout.

We cooked the fish and played Rummy until about three in the morning, awoke at four, grabbed our shotguns and headed out into the darkness without so much as a cup of coffee. Round three of the competition was to be duck hunting. To this day I’m still unclear as to why we had to hunt ducks while it was still dark. Weren’t there any ducks who needed shooting at brunch time, I inquired? Twelve guys, who collectively smelled like a distillery, and who are operating on an hour of sleep, armed with loaded shotguns, trod through a willow thicket as dawn approached. As I neared the river bank, a startled duck shot skyward. I raised my over and under twelve-gauge shotgun, sort of took aim, and fired a volley. The duck seemed to pause in midair, and then fell like a rock into the racing water. I watched helplessly as my quarry floated away from me. I looked downstream and was pleased to see two men fishing from a rowboat. The duck floated right towards them. A man reached down, retrieved my duck, and dropped it in his boat. He then waved to me. Thinking he was being friendly I returned his wave. He then rowed away with my duck.

It was a great three days. Part of what made the weekend fun with not having to excel at each event. It helped knowing that in areas where my skills were not as good, I could count on the skills of others and vice versa. The idea behind this approach was to build competitive and level teams. That approach works well in mano y mano events like those I described. It works much less well in EHR, HIT and healthcare reform in general.  I’m trying to recall if I wrote previsouly about a meeting I attended with a former hospital CEO.  His take on EHR was the total inability of his peers to have any precience regarding their approach to EHR.  According to him, very intelligent people were making very unintelligent decisions, committing their entire institution to strategies made with almost no data.  Some people can give a better explanation for why they bought their car than they can for why they selected their EHR.   That’s the wrong way to handicap this event.

There are two ways to handicap your EHR.  One way is to look at the program from the perspective of risk assessment and assess–handicap–the risks.  The other way to to be a detriment to the program’s success.  One of these is bad.

AN EHR Vendor Selection Strategy–Vendor Darts

Is there a best Electronic Health Records system? Perhaps Cerner, EPIC, GE, or McKesson?  For those who have followed my writing, you’re probably thinking my answer is “None of the above.”

I’ll do one better, and I write this with the utmost sincerity—it does not really matter which vendor you select.  As the EHR vendors reading this pull themselves off the floor, permit me to explain why.  Researching the question this is very little information to support the notion that any of the major hospital EHR systems quantitatively stands out from the others.

There are a few sites that offer user assessments across a range of functions, but those have at most three opinions—not enough to consider statically significant.  There are plenty of EHR scorecards and comparison tools, just not many scores.  The vendors’ sites do a poor job of differentiating themselves from their competitors.  Vendors use superlatives and qualifiers in an attempt to differentiate themselves.  When one considers the basic functions that make an EHR an EHR, the top vendors all have them.  No vendor highlights major clinical or business problems that their solution solves that another vendor does not solve.  Instead, they state they do something better, easier, more flexibly—none of which can be measured by prospective clients.

Imagine, if you were an EHR vendor, and you knew that your product did things to benefit a hospital better than the other vendors, wouldn’t you have an independent competitive assessment, some sort of “Consumer Report” chart and evidence to support why you are better?  Of course you would.  You would highlight your superlatives.  I have not seen one that would be very helpful.  The only information I found that might be worth a read comes from Klas Research.  However, the names of the modules rated are vendor specific, and none of the vendors use the same names.  It will give you a feel for how a small sample rated features within a given vendor, but there is no data to suggest how those ratings compare among vendors.

Even if there was a good comparison, the other thing to learn from this is all the areas that aren’t listed imply that the vendor is either no better or perhaps worse than the competition.  Cream rises to the top—we are left to choose among brands of milk.

One vendor may have a better medical dictionary than another, yet that same vendor will lack rigor in decision support.  No single vendor seems to have their customers doing back flips in their testimonials.  Some score high in their ability to deliver a complete inpatient solution and fail in their ability to integrate with other vendors.  Others hurt themselves during the implementation, user support, response time, and the amount of navigation required to input data.  Some EHR vendors posit their systems as being better at meeting Meaningful Use or passing all of the Certification requirements.  Ask them to name a single installed client for which they have met these.

Why doesn’t matter which vendor a hospital selects?  The reasoning holds not because all hospitals are the same, rather, it holds because were one to perform a very detailed comparison of the leading EHR vendors with a Request for Proposal (RFP), they would prove to be quite similar.  You might find significant separation if you only compared ten functional requirements.  You would expect to find less separation by comparing several hundred, and quite a similarity if you compare a thousand or more requirements.  The more you look, the more they seem the same.

Although the vendors will differ with respect to individual requirements, when evaluated on their entire offering across a broad range of requirements I would expect each to score within one standard deviation of the other.  You may be equally served playing a round of Vendor Darts.  However, make sure you sharpen the heads of each vendor prior to throwing them to make sure they stick to the dart board.

Reason 2.  It is possible to find hospitals who will give outstanding references for each of the leading vendors.  It is equally possible to find users in hospitals who have implemented one of the “leading” vendors’ systems who will readily tell you that the purchasing the system is the worst business decision they ever seen.  More to the point, every vendor A has probably had at least one of its implementations uprooted and replaced by vendors B, C, or D.  The same can be said for vendors B, C, and D.

If this is a fair assessment, what accounts for the difference?  How can we account for why one hospital loves a given EHR system and another one hates the same system?  Chances are they both needed about the same solution.  Chances are they received about the same solution.

Here’s the difference.  The hospital who thinks they made a good choice:

  • Had a detailed strategy and implementation plan
  • Paid as much or more attention to process alignment, change management, and training as they did to the implementation
  • Managed the vendor instead of being managed by the vendor.

Simply put—the problem is not the EHR system.

One other thought.  “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain—the Great Oz.”  Do not put your scarce capital into a solution just because it offers or promises either Certification or Meaningful Use.  Yes, there is much discussion about both of these.  The industry stops and holds its collective breath each time a new set of stone tablets are brought forth from the ONC or CMS.  You can meet Meaningful Use with a Certified system and still wind up with a system the users hate and that does not support your business model.

Here is something else I cannot explain.  For those hospitals replacing a one hundred million dollar EHR with another hundred million dollar EHR, why do they think the second system will be any better?  If the systems are not materially different, the only way to get a different result is by changing behavior, not changing systems.  Why make the same mistake twice?  What could be so wrong with the first implementation that an expenditure of far less than another hundred million could not solve?

What is the cost of EHR 2.0 not working?

The User’s Role in EHR–a PowerPoint presentation

This link will take you to a Slideshare,net presentation that defines how a healthcare provider’s users can take control of the EHR project.  I welcome your comments.

http://www.slideshare.net/paulroemer/the-users-role-in-ehr