As a parent I’ve learned there are two types of tasks–those my children won’t do the first time I ask them, and those they won’t do no matter how many times I ask them. Here’s the segue.
Let’s agree for the moment that workflows can be parsed into two groups—Easily Repeatable Processes (ERPs) and Barely Repeatable Processes (BRPs). (I read about this concept online via Sigurd Rinde.)
An example of an ERP industry is manufacturing. Healthcare, in many respects, is a BRP industry. BRPs are characterized by collaborative events, exception handling, ad-hoc activities, extensive loss of information, little knowledge acquired and reused, and untrustworthy processes. They involve unplanned events, knowledge work, and creative work.
ERPs are the easy ones to map, model, and structure. They are perfect for large enterprise software vendors like Oracle and SAP whose products include offerings like ERP, SCM, PLM, SRM, CRM.
How can you tell what type of process you are trying to incorporate in your EHR? Here’s one way. If the person standing next to you at Starbucks could watch you work and accurately describe the process, it’s probably an ERP.
So, why discuss ERP and BRP in the same sentence with EHR? The reason is simple. The taxonomy of most, if not all EHR systems, is that they are designed to support an ERP business model. Healthcare providers are faced with the quintessential square peg in a round hole conundrum; trying to get BRPs into an ERP type system. Since much of the ROI in the EHR comes from being able to redesign the workflows, I think either the “R” will be sacrificed, or the “I” will be much higher than planned.
What do you think?
There were four of us, each wearing dark suits and sunglasses, uniformly walking down the street, pausing at a cross-walk labeled “consultants only”—I think it’s a trick because a lot of drivers seem to speed up when they see us. We looked like a bad outtake from the movie Reservoir Dogs. We look like that a lot.
Okay, so today was going to be one of those days when I wasn’t going to allow myself to be stupified–at least no more than was really required.
Those of you who’ve visited previously may have caught on to the fact that my wife likes to keep me away from bright shiny objects such as tools. Let me tell you about my first house, a two-story stucco building in Denver, built in 1902. My favorite part of the home was the brick wall. That it had a brick wall was not apparent when I purchased the home.
Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? (Not at all, but a swallow could grip it by its husk.)