Help has arrived for your EHR productivity loss

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.  However, before you decide it’s more comfortable to stay in the hole with your EHR productivity loss and hope nobody notices, why not see if there’s someone who knows the way out?

Merely appointing someone to run your EHR effort doesn’t do anything other than add a name to an org chart.

AP reports national EHR rollout will fail-now what?

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.

What does lost EHR productivity cost?

One of the most exciting parts of any project is the point when the period of anoesis ends and members of the project team drift back to reality, back to a period of having to come to terms with what they have wrought.  That is the point at which you know things will feel better once they stop hurting.

For those inclined to argue that the project was a success because of the number of people who use it, may we visit that notion a little before we buy in all the way?  Arguing that use is the same as acceptance is a little like arguing the same about our use of gravity—after all, it is not as though we have much of a choice as to whether we are going to use gravity.  Maybe we should allow users to rename user acceptance to grim resignation.

User Acceptance may be a good thing, and it may be better than no user acceptance. Therefore, User Acceptance is a necessary but not sufficient condition of how well you spent the millions.

What could possibly be wrong with having one hundred percent of the user community using the application?  Well, if users have no choice, or if penalties are involved with not using the application, merely using the application does not tell you if the application is any good, it simply tells you it is being used.

Electronic Health Records (EHR) systems are deployed in many hospitals.  In some hospitals, user acceptance is quite high.  In many of those hospitals productivity has dropped, and this productivity drop is being traced directly to using the EHR.  Written in a different way, and with other factors remaining constant, doctors were able to see more patients prior to the implementation of the EHR.  The EHR, more specifically how they use the EHR, has resulted in them being able to see fewer patients.

Many physicians in large service provider environments are reporting that they are only able to see about eighty percent of the number of patients they had been able to see.  Now one school of thought would have you believe that seeing twenty percent less patients is not a problem because sooner or later all of the patients are seen.  This argument does not work.

Let us look at an example of a hundred and forty physician orthopedic practice that before implementing EHR its doctors were seeing four patients an hour over a ten hour day.  So as to not scare anyone, let us also assume that on any given day only half of the doctors were scheduled to see patients.  Since what we are looking at is the productivity delta of pre and post EHR, we are assuming that all other factors are similar.  Before EHR the group saw twenty-eight-hundred patients a day; after EHR they only saw twenty-two-hundred and forty patients.

In this example we see a net loss of five-hundred and sixty patient visits each day.  Seeing those patients tomorrow does not solve the problem.  The problem is that real revenue was lost today, and will be lost again tomorrow and the next day and so forth and so on.

In this example we can put an exact figure on the amount of revenue lost due to an unproductive yet fully user accepted EHR system.  This example also shows that this service provider cannot hope to grow because it cannot even manage its current patient load.  To get back to its old revenues, the provider would have to hire twenty-five percent more doctors.

So, does it make any sense to not deal with the distinction between user acceptance and productivity?  Why would a provider accept having to go from one-hundred-forty physicians to one-hundred-seventy-five physicians just to see the same number of patients?  In theory, they would have to increase the number of physicians by twenty-five percent to attain pre-EHR revenues.  Even if they added thirty-five physicians, although revenues would recover, costs would go way up, and margins would take a pounding.

What exactly does a twenty percent productivity drop look like?  I think some people only think of it in terms of inefficiencies and ineffectiveness and forget that it has real dollars attached to it.  Let us calculate the cost to our orthopedic practice.  Just in round numbers, forgetting labs and scripts and therapy, five hundred and sixty visits a day multiplied by two-hundred and fifty days a year equals one-hundred and forty thousand missed patient visits a year.  Just to keep the math simple, if the average missed visit results in a revenue loss of one hundred dollars, the loss to the business is about fourteen and a half million dollars.

Maybe that is enough incentive to come up with a name for the project whose purpose is to offset the EHR productivity loss.  The good news is you can recapture the lost productivity but you will need to look outside of IT and your EHR vendor to do it.

What’s the difference: User Adoption Versus EHR Usability?

Below is my new post in healthsystemcio.com blog is up “User Adoption Versus EMR Usability”ow.ly/770YV comment appreciated.

There is always a great deal of discussion about hospitals controlling costs. Articles on the subject seem to infer that the idea of controlling costs, should one elect to do so, dwell in the rarefied realm of innovation.

Here is a dirty little secret—from the moment your hospital opened its doors the hospital has been controlling costs. It may not have been doing it well, but unless some unknown organization is signing purchase orders and authorizing accounts payable, it is the hospital that is in control of what it spends.

It occurred to me that nobody writes about the need for hospitals to control revenues. When was the last time you saw an article titled “Control Your Revenues?”  Is it because nobody really believes they have any control over revenues?

When I write about controlling revenues, I am not referring to a revenue assurance or ICD-10 project, I am talking about how to make money, not simply collect the money you have already made. In a room of one hundred healthcare managers, for every ninety-nine who know how to control costs only one knows how to control revenues.

The thing with controlling costs and revenues is that control is a two-way street. If revenues go down or costs go up, if you are the person in charge you must take ownership of the revenue loss or the cost increase. Control is all about the resultant direction, up or down, good or bad. We will come back to this point in a minute.

How does this discussion impact IT, and more specifically IT and its role with EHR?  Conventional thinking will lead one to believe that if, at the end of implementation, user acceptance is high, IT will have done its job. Not so fast sparky. User acceptance tends to be a binary measure. User acceptance can be defined as the total user population minus those people who are not using the system.

Total potential EHR users – those not using EHR = user acceptance

As though the potential user population was given a choice! Using the EHR does not imply any degree of liking the EHR, any fondness for the system, or any measure of perceived effectiveness any more than Meaningful Use has anything to do with users. Permit me to repeat that point in that I have yet to read it in any forum—Meaningful Use does not have anything to do with who or how many who’s are using the EHR.

User acceptance and usability are not the same things; they are not even spelled with the same letters. The difference has to do with how we use it because we have toversus we use it because it is usable. Both control costs and revenues, however user acceptance can easily cause costs to increase and revenues to decrease. This is true if the user acceptance causes productivity to crash.

Usability, while not a perfect measure, can be a start in the right direction. If users feel the EHR is highly usable, usability can lead to productivity increases and lower costs.

Here is the summary point of this piece—contrary to popular belief, IT, via EHR, has a direct line of sight to revenues, costs, and productivity. How it chooses to respond to that opportunity is what many people are evaluating.

EHR: I may have found a shortcut

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.saint

EHR Usability: Why is it such a disaster

Do you ever look at the title of a book over and over? You know something is not right about it but you just cannot put your finger on it.

The book in question is titled Cost-Justifying Usability.

I sat.  And I puzzled until my puzzler was sore.

And then it hit me.  Nobody really needs to justify usability.  What needs to be justified is non-usability.  Non-usability must have a fairly substantial justification and ROI because most firms spend millions of dollars creating and maintaining non-usability in their systems and business processes.

Let us take for example one hospital (feel free to insert yours if the shoe fits) which spent more than one hundred million dollars on EHR—actually, they spent WAY more than that figure.

And, what did they get for all of their money?

One thing they did not get was usability.  If we define breakeven on usability to be the same level of productivity after implementing EHR that they had prior to implementing EHR, this hospital did not even breakeven on usability—they lost ground.  In the king’s vernacular this means that had the hospital spent no money on EHR it productivity would exceed its productivity with EHR.  It also begs the question of why, if the hospital spent nine figures and lost ground, heads are not rolling.

I may be guilty of oversimplification, but sometimes over simplifying a complex issue is the only way I know to shed light on something that may be being glossed over, the pay no attention to the man behind the curtain style of management.

How to put lipstick on the pig during your keynote address to the other members of the hospital’s C-Suite, “Our EHR productivity is only down twenty percent, an improvement of thirty-three percent from its prior low.”

Just how much does a point of productivity or a point of usability cost in real dollars in a real hospital?  We are using Roemer math in this example and all of the accounting knowledge I remember from my one accounting class.  Let us assume we are dealing with a hospital whose annual revenues are five hundred million dollars.  Let us also assume said hospital spent two hundred million dollars on its EHR system.  If the hospital’s margins were forty percent, which of course they are not, but if they were, a two hundred million dollar EHR would gobble up every dollar of margin for a year just to pay for itself.

Now in real life we know margins are probably one-tenth of forty percent which means if all of the hospital’s profits went towards paying for the EHR it would take ten years; also unrealistic.  Another rule of thumb regarding large IT systems is that they have a shelf life equal to that of a fruit fly. This means your hospital will be paying for your EHR long after it is dead and buried.

We have just shown that in a perfect world, EHR’s productivity and usability numbers will not have the CFO dancing a jig in the ER.  The great news is this drop in productivity and usability can be solved.  The bad news is that it cannot be solved by your hospital’s IT department or by your EHR vendor.

Design firms specialize in adding a human factor to the EHR interface and really can put the use back into your usability.

What was the name of your project that lost all the productivity

Since we are already talking about productivity I thought it would be worth spending a few minutes trying to understand why large numbers of hospitals seem to have acquiesced to the notion that operating with a productivity loss is their new steady state.

Imagine for a second that you were to discover that your least costly resource, say the person who answered the phones was spending twenty percent of their day updating their Facebook page.  Were that the case, you would know two things with a high degree of certainty;

  1. The productivity loss had a measurable cost
  2. The productivity loss would be corrected quickly

Now imagine that your hospital spent eight or nine figures on an EHR system.  Imagine that the hospital’s most expensive resources, the doctors, are spending most of their time entering data into the hospital’s expensive EHR system, so much time in fact that they are only able to see eighty-percent of their patients.  Now imagine that you do not have to imagine these because they are real.

Headline:  EHR results in a twenty-percent productivity loss.

Any hospital executive should be able to answer the following two questions:

  1. How much does each percentage of productivity loss cost the hospital?
  2. What is the name of the project to recover the lost productivity?

The project has no name because there is no project, and that is a shame.  The project to create the productivity loss had some stellar name, it had a war room, and it probably even had its own T-shirts.  The project to lose all of that productivity was a massive undertaking.

Should not the project to recover the productivity receive a little attention?

There are those who believe the lost productivity is gone forever.  Productivity is not like energy; it can be created and destroyed.  All kidding aside, there is a way to retrieve the lost productivity, all of it.  If you would like to know let me know.

EHR’s Two Types of Failure at your Hospital

"Kinetic productivity"

I have been rereading John Eldredge’s book Wild at Heart.  It seems his purpose for the book is to help men cope with their feelings of not measuring up to their father’s expectations.  It delivers its punch at much the same level as the last scene in the film Field of Dreams when the father and son have a chance for one last catch.

(I am pausing parenthetically for a moment for the men to wipe their collective eyes.)

Here comes the segue, so hold on to your EHRs.  Let us spend some time dealing with lost opportunity and failure.  What if we define two types of failures; kinetic failure and potential failure?

Kinetic Failure: the failure to achieve the possible

Potential Failure: the failure to achieve the probable

Viewed from the perspective of productivity, let us define X to represent the service provider’s pre-EHR productivity; the distance from P to A represents the productivity loss brought about by the EHR, and the distance from A to K represents the opportunity loss.

P——————————A—————————K

One can argue with some degree of reason that the purchase of an EHR was made with the reasonable assumption that in addition to improving quality and patient safety the EHR would improve productivity to some degree.  In fact, assuming the provider did any sort of cost benefit analysis or return on investment calculation, any ROI, if it exists lives somewhere along the path between A and K.

If productivity is not improved, the service provider incurs an opportunity loss, a kinetic failure. At that point the best a service provider can hope to achieve is to not suffer a productivity loss.

One can also argue that the purchase of an EHR was made with the reasonable assumption that the implementation of EHR would not reduce productivity.

In many service providers EHR has resulted in a double hit to productivity; not only did they not achieve the productivity gains that were possible, they lost productivity.  A lot of people raise complaints when they speak about how much productivity costs.  One thing that is for certain, productivity costs a lot less than lost productivity.

This lost productivity, the kinetic failure, is the elephant in the service provider’s waiting room.  It has been poking its trunk through the door, and the only thing it wants once it gets its trunk through the door is to get all the way in the room.

Well, it is in the room, all the way in.

Part of the confusion facing providers is due to the fact that no matter how bad the productivity loss, a provider can still qualify as a meaningful user. That fact has led many providers to believe that since they can still qualify as such, that perhaps the productivity loss cannot be all bad news.

Let us look at a real example from a client of mine, a hundred and forty physician practice.  This practice had hit a barrier in terms of its ability to add patients, doctors, and staff.  It was running consistently an hour to an hour and a half behind with its patients.

The practice spent millions to implement an EHR.  Several months post implementation the practice was still running an hour behind.  Automating bad practices resulted in only one thing; the bad practices were completed faster.

To have any hope of avoiding kinetic failure and potential failure a healthcare practice must address how it runs its business.  Some business processes are duplicative, some are outdated, and some are wasteful.

Every one of those eats away at possible and probable productivity.  EHR was not designed to be a productivity windfall, but it clearly shines a spotlight on lost productivity.

Fortunately, even if your EHR has led to a productivity loss, all is not lost. Kinetic productivity can be regained, and potential productivity can be captured.  The path to productivity slices right through how the EHR is being used.  User Experience, UX, and usability, can and should be examined, redesigned and deployed.  This is not for the squeamish as it will cut through constraints like ‘We can’t do that’ and ‘We have always done it this way.’

Can’t and always must become productivity’s road kill.

EHR: It is like herding cats

I spent a summer in Weaverville, North Carolina, just outside of Asheville. (I couldn’t find it on the map either.) That summer, I was the head wrangler at Windy Gap, a summer camp for high school kids. I’m not sure I’d ever seen a horse, much less ridden one, so I guess that’s why they put me in charge. I thought that maybe if I dressed the part that would help. I bought a hat and borrowed a pair of cowboy boots from a friend; the boots were a half size too small, and I spent the better part of the first night stuffing sticks of butter down them trying to get them off my swollen feet.

The ranch’s full-time hand taught us how saddle the horses and little bit about how to ride. In the mornings we had to herd the horses from the fields, bring them into the corral, and saddle them. The other wranglers would ride out to the field to bring in the horses, while I being the least experience of the wranglers would race after them in my running shoes trying to coax them back to the barn. We would take the children for a breakfast ride halfway up a mountain path where we would let them rest and cook them a breakfast of sausage and scrambled eggs. One morning there were a group of 15 high school girls sitting on the fence of the corral. I walked up behind them carrying two saddle bags filled with the breakfast fare. I slung the saddlebags over the top rail of the fence, and hoping to make a good impression I placed one hand on the rail and vaulted myself over. I landed flat on my back smack dab in the middle of the pile of what horses produce when they’re done eating—so much for the good impression.  That earned me the nick-name, “Poop Wrangler.”

I brushed myself off and saddled my horse. The moment I gripped the reins the horse reared, made a dash for the fence and jumped it in one motion. I could tell the high school girls were impressed as I flew by them. Both of my arms were wrapped around the horse’s neck, and I had my hands locked in a death grip. I yelled, “whoa” and stop”, only to learn that the horse didn’t speak English. We raced the 200 yards to the dining hall, stopped on a dime, and raced back to the corral, as the girls continued to cheer. One final leap, and I was back where I started; on the ground, in the corral, looking up at the girls. I took a bow and quickly remounted my steed. The full-time ranch hand came over and instructed me rather loudly, “You can’t let the horse do that. You have to show the horse that you’re in charge.” After that piece of wisdom he grabbed my horse by its bit, pulled its head down, and bit a hole in my horse’s ear. I’m not sure what kind of in an impression it made on my horse. I guarantee you it made an impression on me.

Horses aren’t very intelligent, but they know when you don’t know what you’re doing, when you’re bluffing—dressing like a cowboy didn’t even fool the girls, much less my horse—I guess he hadn’t seen many westerns. Here we go—you had to know where this was headed.

Selecting and implementing an EHR will be the most complex project your hospital will undertake.  If you do it wrong, you may not look any better than I did laying on my back in the corral.  You won’t have girls laughing at you, but you also may be looking for another line of work.

You don’t want to read this, but if your projected spend exceeds ten million dollars, your chances of success, even if you do everything right, is less than fifty percent.  I define success as on time, on budget, functioning at the desired level, and accepted by the users.  That’s reasonable, correct?  We don’t need to talk percentages if you don’t do everything right.

These figures come from the Bull Report—that’s really the name, honest.

The main IT project failure criteria identified by the IT and project managers were:

missed deadlines (75%)
exceeded budget (55%)
poor communications (40%)
inability to meet project requirements (37%).

The main success criteria identified were :

meeting milestones (51%)
maintaining the required quality levels (32%)
meeting the budget (31%)

How is yours matching against these?  Given a choice, sometimes I’d rather be the horse.

The Cat in the Hat’s EHR Philosophy

My mind is a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives. (Hedley Lamar—that’s Hedley)

Let’s see if we can tie this collection of thoughts into something that won’t waste your time or mine.

The sun did not shine.  It was too wet to play.  So I sat in the house all that cold, cold, wet day.  It was too wet to go out and too cold to play ball, so I sat in the house and did nothing at all. (Dr. Seuss)  It was around that time when my wife decided maybe this whole sitting around thing wasn’t optimizing my time, so she decided “we”—which can also be interpreted to mean “me”—should caulk the master shower.  Personally, I thought that why God invented the Yellow Pages, you know, the whole thing about, “Let your fingers do the walking.”

I notice we just blew through an entire paragraph without accomplishing anything.  Sorry.  I got my designer tool belt, the same one I’ve had for twenty years—still looks the same as the day I bought it.  Today’s Roemer Minute—the less you know about what you’re doing, the more important it is to dress the part.  (This does not seem to work with the people whom I’ve told that I’m studying cardiology.)

Tool belt.  Tools—caulk taker-outer, caulk puter-inner.  Paper towels—the need for these will become clear.  Worse case, this is a ten minute job, but if I finish too quickly, there will be additional assignments coming my way.  The trick with caulking is that the success or failure can all come down to how much of the plastic tip you circumcise (can I say that on TV?).  Too much and caulk is everywhere, not enough and it is nowhere.  I made the incision and started to lay down the first bead.  It was quickly apparent that I should have used clear caulk as the white stuff stared back at me like bleached bones—I try and add a little medical flavor wherever I can.

I’ve watched the same shows as you.  Sometimes people spread the caulk with a tool, others prefer a wet finger.  I am equally unskilled with both, so I went with the finger method, smoothing the caulk into the joint.  I wipe my sticky white finger on the paper towel, place the towel on the limestone tile, and return to work, only to notice that although the caulk looks good, my finger created to parallel lines of caulk on either side of the repair, sort of like a snow plow does.  I grab another piece of paper towel and begin the process of trying to remove the excess caulk, finally tossing the paper towel to the side.

Fast forward twenty minutes.  The caulking is done.  My hands are so white it looks like I am wearing a pair of Mickey’s gloves.  (That’s spelled M-O-U-S-E.)  As I wipe my hands with a used piece of towel—there are no more clean ones—I unknowingly step on one of the pieces.  The piece sticks to my shoe.  I retrieve the other pieces and notice that the caulk which had been on the paper towels is now spread all over the tile like someone had a food fight with smores.

Whatever I touched only exacerbated the problem.  I am immediately reminded of the Dr. Seuss book, “The cat in the hat comes back.”  In the book, the cat goes from good intentions to spreading a pink stain over everything—sort of like me with the caulk.

Sometimes good intentions don’t add up to much.  I’d wager that everyone in the EHR process has good intentions.  Sometimes it’s more important to pair good intentions with good skills.  Let’s call EHR one of those sometimes.  Good intentions are okay up to the point when you’re dealing with two or more commas on the cost side.

Here is today’s thought, the one reason you keep coming back to this site. Why did you implement EHR?  The answer will surprise you.  You did it for one simple reason, to get people, doctors and nurses, to do what you want them to do and to do it in a way you want them to do it.  EHR will modify their behavior.  I am sure yours did, but did it modify it in the way you wanted?

Most times it’s good to call a professional before you start tracking caulk across the floor.