I’d hate to be thought of as superfluous

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

Of the many special things associated with growing up in this country, one is held dearly by every American eight-year old male who owned a flashlight and an AM transistor radio with an earplug. During those long hot summer nights when the adults sat on the back stoop nursing a bottle of Carling and waiting for their window air conditioners to suck out enough of the heat to make the inside of the house bearable, thousands of boys across the country lay under their bed covers, with a flimsy plastic earplug dangling from their ear as they continued to turn the dial to tune in the lone radio station covering the home team. In spite of the static, they faithfully kept score for their favorite baseball team in the back of their black and white Composition notebook.

The 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 personnel whose loyalty lies with the highest bidder—free agents, the lineup for the home team rarely changed by more than a player, the pitcher, and had been mostly the same for years.

My team was the Baltimore Orioles. Their team pennant hung on my wall, a team photo was on my dresser along with my membership card to the Junior Orioles. Under the blanket with me was my taped-up shoe box containing my collection of baseball trading cards, sorted by team and held together by rubber bands I had removed from the Baltimore Sun. A few hundred stale sticks of the 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 yesterday my son and I went to see 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. I didn’t see a single person keeping a scorecard, let alone a dad teaching his son or daughter how to keep it. The only constant throughout the game was the commercialization, to the point where it made it difficult to simply follow the game.

That’s progress. Or maybe not. Some progress is good. Some progress doesn’t exist even though everybody around it believes that it does. Buying technology doesn’t in and of itself confer progress, it simply means you bought more technology. For those who are so fond of metrics, look up some ten-year old figures and see. See if patient satisfaction has increased. Still not convinced? Add up all the money you’ve spent on improvements and technology during those ten years and divide it by the percentage of decrease or increase of any decent metric. Was it worth it? I bet not.

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”

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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The Spandex Insecurity—the Ego has Landed

Now before you get all upset about the sexist picture, at least read a little bit of this to see why I selected it. Yesterday morning, five miles into my run, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I had passed seven runners, had a nice comfortable rhythm, no insurmountable aches, and Crosby Stills & Nash banging away on my MP3. I don’t like being passed—never have. Some people say I’m competitive. They say other things too, but this is a family show.

I’m a mile away from my car when I see a slight blurring movement out of the corner of my left eye. A second later I am passed by a young woman wearing a blue and yellow, midriff revealing spandex contraption. Her abs are tight enough that I could have bounced a quarter off of them. She is pushing twins in an ergonomic stroller that looked like it was designed by the same people who designed the Big Wheel. I stared at her long enough to notice that not only was she not sweating, she didn’t even appear winded. She returned my glance with a smile that seemed to suggest that someone my age should consider doing something less strenuous—like chess. Game, set, match.

Having recovered nicely from yesterday’s ego deflation, today at the gym I decide to work out on the Stairmaster, the one built like a step escalator. I place my book on the reading stand, slip on my readers—so much for the Lasik surgery, and start to climb.

Five minutes into my climb, a spandex clad woman chipper enough to be the Stepford twin of the girl I encountered on my run mounts the adjoining Stairmaster. We exchange pleasantries, she asks what I’m reading, and we return to our respective workouts. The first thing I do is to toss my readers into my running bag. I steal a glance at the settings on her machine and am encouraged that my METS reading is higher than hers, even though I have no idea whether that is good or bad.

Fifteen minutes, twenty minutes. I am thirsty, and water is dripping off me like I had just showered with one of Kohler’s full body shower fixtures. I want to take a drink and I want to towel off, but I will not be the first to show weakness. Sooner or later she will need a drink. I can hold out, I tell myself. Twenty-five minutes—she breaks. I wait another two minutes before drinking, just to show her I really didn’t need it.
She eyeballs me. Game on. She cranks up her steps per minute to equal mine. Our steps are in synch. I remove my hands from the support bars as a sign that I don’t need the support. Without turning my head, I can see that she’s noticed. She makes a call from her cell to demonstrate that she has the stamina to exercise and talk.

When she hangs up I ask her how long she usually does this machine—we are approaching forty minutes and I am losing feeling in my legs. She casually replies that she does it until she’s tires, indicating she’s got a lot left in her. I tell her I lifted for an hour before I started; she gives me a look to suggest she’s not buying that. I add another ten steps a minute to my pace. She matches me step for step.

Fifty minutes. I’m done toying with her. I tell Spandex I’m not stopping until she does. She simply smiles. Her phone rings and she pauses her machine—be still my heart—and talks for a few minutes. I secretly scale down my pace, placing my towel over the readout hoping she won’t notice. She steps down from the machine. My muscles are screaming for me to quit, but I don’t until I see that she’s left the gym.

Victory at any cost. What’s the point? For what was lost, for what was gained (McKendree Spring). Men and women. Customers and companies. Most parties will deny they are competing, yet neither will yield. The customer is always right. Turns out it makes a better bumper sticker than it does a business philosophy. Nobody’s business policies reflect that attitude. If anything, were you to listen to what CSRs are instructed to do for the callers and compare that with what they are instructed not to do for the callers, it’s clear that their mandate is to minimize the negative impact to the firm, without regard to the negative impact to the customer. Remember the last time you tried to dispute an insurance claim?

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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How daughters relate to EHR

The other night as I’m sitting on a hard bleacher watching my seven-year-olds baseball practice I noticed the mom sitting next to me looking a little forlorn. Being naturally inquisitive, I asked if everything was okay.

“I lost his glove,” she replied.

Noticing a glove on her son’s hand, she saw my look of confusion. “Not his. My husband’s. I had it with me last Thursday, and I left it here.”

“I don’t suppose this was a new glove. Judging by the look on your face I’d say this was his favorite glove; thirty years old, supple, broken in, fold flat as a sheet of paper.”

“Twenty-five years,” she corrected as she lowered her eyes.

“It’s rained the last three days,” I told her, which caused her to grimace even more. Having nothing better to do, I flayed her emotions. “I bet that glove meant the world to him. He probably planned on giving it to your son in a few years. The glove probably reminds him of some of the big events in his life, every scar, each stain on the leather, points to something important. You know, if it was outside for a few days, the field mice will have chewed on the leather.”

She brushed away a tear, and headed to the lost and found.

“Any luck?” She shook her head in despair. “In some countries, if a wife does something life that, the husband can sever the relationship, literally,” I said as I made a slashing motion with my hand. She made the briefest of smiles. At least she knew I was pulling her lariat. Reeling her in, I continued.

“You’re not thinking of spending the night at home, are you? If you are, you should at least call someone and let them know of your plans. He’ll heal over time,” I told her. “But he won’t forget it. Twenty years from now the two of you will be watching something on TV, and something will remind him of the glove YOU lost.”

Fast forward to last night. My daughter and I are getting out of the car so I can coach her and her softball team in the playoff game.

“Is your glove in the trunk?” I asked. This is after I spent several minutes grilling her at home about whether she had everything she needed for her game.

“I hope so,” she said shamelessly as I popped the trunk for her. “You hope so?” I repeated with an edge in my voice.

“It’s not here Daddy.”

I left her with her friends and drove home to look for it. Ten minutes. Nothing. For some reason, I looked in the trunk. There it was. Death by 1,000 cuts.

Does it all come down to baseball gloves?  “I hope so.”  What kind of a response is that?

Will these EHR expenditures help? I hope so.

Can you confirm for me that user satisfaction won’t fall any further? I hope so.

Are we ready for the changes coming to the business model?  I hope so.

Do you think we should continue to employ you? I hope so.

Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

1475 Luna Drive, Downingtown, PA 19335
+1 (484) 885-6942

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The Easy Button

In Woody Allen’s movie Bananas, the dictator of the small country San Marcos declares that, “All the children under 16 years old are now 16 years old.” That was easy.

In the movie in my head, “The EHRs of Madison County,” I run customer service for a EHR vendor.  Customers kept calling to complain. I declared, “Tell the all the customers nothing’s wrong with our products.”

That was easy. Does that work for your implementation?

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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The McDonald’s healthcare business model

Sarah Palin continues to receive national media coverage.  Many hospitals continue to implement EHR without any measurable goals.  (One of those is bad.)

The year is 2014.  I had this dream the other night of having dropped my IQ when I was at the hospital, but I couldn’t remember which hospital, so off I went, hospital by hospital looking for my IQ—I realize there are those of you who believe this isn’t a great loss.

In the first hospital I visited, a photo of the new president hung behind the registration desk.  Next to her photo—surprised some of you with that I bet—hung the photo of the Secretary of Hospital Sameness.  For a while I wondered what someone in that position did day to day.  The more hospitals I visited, the more apparent it became.  The hospitals all looked very much alike, right down to dust on the fake Fichus tree next to the water fountain.  For a while I thought that maybe I was driving in circles until I noticed that even though receptionists were all named Gladys, they wore different clothes.  It was almost like visiting Stepford.

Does anyone have the sense that what reform will really accomplish is to reform away healthcare competition?  There appears to be a move afoot towards the efficiency that is created by sameness—what I call the McDonalds healthcare model.  Put one on every corner.  Make them identical.  Limit the options.  Everyone gets a burger.  Nobody gets a steak.

Eliminate waste.  Does that mean eliminate ways of operating that differ from how the government permits them to operate?  There is talk of pulling costs out of the system thereby making it more efficient.  You tell me.  Is the argument that there is so much inefficiency that by becoming efficient not only will we be able to cover everyone, but we will be able to do it at a cost below what it costs to care for far fewer people?

How do you understand it?  Are costs being removed, or simply moved?  If someone with no access to healthcare suddenly has healthcare—a good thing by almost anyone’s standards—the reasoned person knows costs have just increased.  (Healthcare theorem 1:  The cost to provide healthcare to 2 people is greater than or equal to the cost to provide it to one person.)  If costs have increased, how does one make a believable argument that the basis for reform is cost reduction?

I try hard not to be too cynical, but sometimes I think, why bother.  By the way, I found my IQ.  Thanks for asking.

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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What must the ONC do to make EHR a success?

The following is my second reply to Brain Ahier’s interview of Dr. Blumenthal.  The purpose of this post was to outline some steps the ONC could take to retrofit its EHR strategy.  PLease let me know what you think.

Grab a soft-drink—this one is rather long. Please forgive any formatting mistakes–it looked good in Word.

I have never been one who thinks hit-and-run critiquing is fair. It is too easy to throw metaphorical tomatoes at an idea with which you disagree. As such, perhaps instead of just being critical of the national EHR rollout plan, here are a few ideas which may be worth exploring in more detail.

It just occurred to me that the ONC’s role, the Office of the National Coordinator, is just that—coordination. Who or what is the ONC supposed to be coordinating—among its various functions, or the providers? There are the coordinators, and its constituents—the uncoordinated. I know at least one provider who already spent $400 million on its EHR. They didn’t get coordinated. I asked one of their executives who played a major oversight role in the implementation, with whom they worked at the ONC. She was not even familiar with the acronym.

I don’t think providers are looking to be coordinated—they are looking to be led. I also think they are looking to be asked and to be heard. They are looking for answers to basic questions like; why should we do this, what is in it for me—this has nothing to do with incentive dollars?

It often seems like the ONC has developed many solutions seeking a problem, filling their tool bag in the hope they brought along the right one. This is where I think we see a good portion of the disconnect. It is better to say we know where we are going, but getting there slowly, instead of, we don’t know where we are going but we are making really good time.

People don’t buy drills because they need a drill—they buy them because they need—say it with me—holes. Providers need holes, not HIEs and RECs.

You understand the pressures you face much better than do I. Has anyone from the ONC asked you if they should reconsider their plan, their approach, their timing? Chances are good that you are not implementing EHR and CPOE because you have a vision or a business imperative of someday being able to connect your EHR to Our Lady of Perpetual Interoperability. CIOs and their peers are not spending eight or nine figures because you want a virtual national healthcare infrastructure. The C-team is investing its scarce resources to make its operation better, to reap the rewards of the promise of EHR.

The ONC is spending its resources towards a different goal, a virtual national healthcare infrastructure. The two goals do not necessarily overlap. I am reminded of the photo showing the driving of the Golden Spike—the connecting of the Union Pacific Railroad to the Central Pacific Railroad—the final link of the Transcontinental Railroad that in the 1870’s allowed Americans to cross the US by rail. What would have happened had the two railroads worked independently of each other? They would have built very nice railroads whose tracks would never have met, tracks dead ending in the middle of nowhere. Even if they almost met, say got within a few feet of each other, they would have failed.

There are those who see the work of the ONC as a real value-add. I dare say that most of those are not hospital CIOs or physicians. Both groups define value-add and success differently.

This is not to say that providers would not accept all the help they can get. However, providers want the help to be…what is the word I am searching for—helpful—to them, to their issues. The ONC’s mission will not work until the providers successfully deliver what the ONC needs from them. How many providers must be Stage 7, Meaningful Use, Certified compliant for the virtual national healthcare infrastructure to work? Fifty percent? Eighty? Who knows.

So, the providers own the critical path. It is all about the providers, bringing fully functional EHR systems to hospitals and physicians. The numbers I have seen do not paint a promising picture. The critical path is in critical condition. Ten percent hospital acceptance and a sixty percent failure rate. Let’s say those numbers are wrong by a factor of three—thirty percent acceptance, and a twenty percent failure rate. Even those numbers do not bode well for ever achieving a virtual national healthcare infrastructure under the current plan. Subtract from those figures—supply your own if you would like—the churn figures—those hospitals that are on their second or third installation of EHR. Something is amiss.

In a more perfect world the ONC might consider shifting course to something aligned with the following:

• Segment its mission into two parts; one to build a virtual national healthcare infrastructure, and two, provide hands-on support individual hospitals’ and providers’ EHR initiatives.
• Standards
• Standards—I wrote that twice because it is important to both missions
o Let us be honest, the largest EHR vendors do not want standards. Why? Because if all else fails, their standards become the standards. They don’t phrase it this way, but one can assume, their business model calls for them to do what is best for them.
o The vendors do not want to open their APIs to the HIEs
• Do not set dates for providers which to be met require meeting rules which do not yet exist. If the government wants providers to meet its dates, the government must first meet some of its critical success factors—standards, for example.
• Mandate vendor standards for however many vendors make up ninety percent of the EHR install base for hospitals. Give vendors 18-24 months to agree to a set of standards and have them retrofit their applications.
• Use a garrote and stick approach on the vendors. Create a standards incentive program, heck, underwrite it. Pay the vendors to develop and get on a single set of standards—this will have a much more positive impact than REC and PR money. Many will say, especially those who have an incentive for this not to happen, this cannot be done. Of course it can.
• Processes. EHRs are failing in part due to not enough user involvement, not enough user authority and governance. There is no usable decompositionable process map of how a hospital functions. No Level Zero through Level Whatever You Need. No industry standard, mega-diagram, boxes and arrows, which can be laid on a table or hung on a wall that shows, “This is what we do. This is how it all ties together.”
• I am building this process map, along with a colleague. Why isn’t the ONC? It will not match you hospital. It may not match anyone’s hospital. What it will do is give someone a great base from which they can edit it. Why is this important? Because it will enable the users, IT, and the vendor to overlay the EHR application to show:

o which business and clinical areas are impacted
o the process interfaces
o duplicated processes
o processes with no value-add
o which other facilities have similar and differing processes
o where change management resources must be focused
o what needs to happen if an acquisition is made

The ONC must move from coordinating to leading. To do that they need the authority to mandate the execution of some of the items listed above.

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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My remarks to Brian Ahier’s insightful interview of Dr. Blumenthal

I encourage those who have not read Brian’s interview of Dr. Blumenthal on HealthSystemCIO.com to make time to read it.  http://healthsystemcio.com/2010/03/27/chatting-with-the-national-coordinator-for-health-it/#comments

Brian also has a link to the audio.

Brian asked me to comment, and I was pleased to do so.  Here is what I wrote.

I enjoyed reading your interview with Dr. Blumenthal. Clearly he and the members of his team are working very hard on a number of difficult and rather diverse issues.

I have been wondering, how does one tell the story of EHR to someone who has no understanding of EHR? Not the story about the EHR system in a physician’s office, or the ungainly one in a hospital. The story to which I refer is the story of the national rollout of EHR and the drive for interoperability.

For me, the question of how to tell the story in a way to make it understandable raises a number of other questions. Is there a story, or is it a collection of short stories written by different people, guided by different principles and goals? Is there a plot? Does the story come together in a natural manner?

Sticking with the story theme for a moment—who are the main characters, do they relate to one another? Does it come to a meaningful conclusion, in fact, does it conclude?

Look at the various antagonists—EMR, EHR, PRH, Meaningful Use, Certification, HIEs, RECs, the N-HIN, interoperability, the ONC, CMS, ARRA, standards, vendors, and PR. I am sure I missed several.

Imagine if Random House allocated millions of dollars to publish and market a book which had yet to be put to paper. No plot, no outline. What if they hired a dozen writers, each with their own areas of expertise—and lack of expertise—and crossed their fingers.

Would they be more successful if they offered penalties and incentives to the writers—a garrote and stick approach? What if they changed the rules after the writers started? What if they left undefined numerous areas of rules, rules which will impact the story, and told the writers to keep pushing ahead?

I do not see how the national EHR rollout story comes together. Now or some distant tomorrow—at least not under this approach. Is the approach viable? Having a few disparate successes does not make me a believer. Call me a cock-eyed nihilist.
Once every so often, an announcement is made that another single hospital reached Stage 7. One among thousands. Why do I view this from the vantage point of a glass half-empty? For me, the existing approach is one of guidance and facilitation. There are no long lines of providers trying to beat the others to the front of the EHR line. There have been several hundred million dollar do-overs.

If we circle back to the providers for a second, three of the largest causes of failure include the arbitrary setting of go-live dates without knowing what needs to be done or can be done in that time frame; second, letting IT and the vendor drive and manage the project; third, not getting users to define what they need and then having IT replicate those needs. IT does not need an EHR.

As I look at the government’s national rollout of EHR I see the same three problems. Who are the government’s users? Doctors, clinicians, and hospitals. There are fixed dates, many having undefined requirements. These are causing some providers to dash for the cash. Who is driving the rollout—the government’s users, or the government. They way the rollout is structured, the users have all of the responsibility and little of the authority. This is a government led IT project. Where are their users? They are running their practices and hospitals. They have one ear open towards, reform, another to the garrote and stick project rollout approach, another to EHR, and yet another to their business model. They have run out of ears.

Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

1475 Luna Drive, Downingtown, PA 19335
+1 (484) 885-6942

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EHR-the 40 chicken crocodile

Got a couple hundred million burning a hole in your pocket?  Why not buy an EHR?  Indeed.

Riddle me this Batman, “What is a 40 chicken crocodile?”

It is the number of chickens you have to feed it each day to keep it from eating you. What is the crocodile at your hospital?  Is it your EHR?

Let me recount to you a true story about the details of one of the EHR “success” stories.  A major hospital who selected their EHR from among one of what I like to call the oligopoly EHR Flavor of the Month Club.  You know the suspects.

Permit me to throw a wrench to those clairvoyants who think they know where this is going before I’ve even written it.  Admittedly, I have a tendency to throw metaphorical tomatoes in one direction—that of the vendors.  That’s because, they are often easy targets.  Slow down Pepito.

This hospital, and from what I was told, the vendor, did it right.  I am not sure I would have differed from the approach of either.  The hospital spent a few years in its vendor selection process, and they were very thorough.  They spent two years building their process maps, ensuring the vendor implemented the EHR to meet their needs, not the other way around.  Operations led the nine-figure project.

They implemented many of the support functions and a few of the specialty functions.  Here come the chickens.  After implementation, cash flow dropped by 80 percent for several months due to significant issues they encountered cleaning up the revenue side.  Doctors were instructed to cut their hours by fifty percent to allow them to learn to use the system.  Hours are still down by twenty percent, well more than a year later.  Users use about one-third of the functionality, even after a rigorous training program.

The hospital held off doing most of the clinical implementations for two years.

I asked for some recommendations.  What would you have done differently?  Here’s what I learned.  If you have a research organization you need to spend extra special attention to their workflows.  Managing post-go-live was a big issue to begin to offset productivity losses. Without a continuous process improvement program the EHR would not have been accepted. Do not pick a go-live date at the outset of the project as it causes the organization to be paralyzed simply to hit the date.  Testing was compromised to meet the go-live date. The post go-live issues are still being fought.  Do not let the design or build teams skimp on either reporting or testing, they are still playing catch-up.

So, after doing a pretty bang up job, at least from where I sit, there are still a lot of chickens being fed to the crocodile.  Wonder how many chickens it would have taken had the users not been as involved as they were.  How many had the users not spent two years pre-build defining processes?  A lot.  Now comes the rest of the clinical effort.  See you at the poultry counter.

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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What if our EMRs were portable?

I am wondering how much of the cost of a hospital’s EHR system includes building in the functionality of individuals’ EMRs and making them transportable.

What if EMR’s were made portable and they could be carried around by patients on super smart devices?

Any thoughts?

saint       Paul M. Roemer
       Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy
      
       1475 Luna Drive, Downingtown, PA 19335
       +1 (484) 885-6942
       paulroemer@healthcareitstrategy.com 

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The Wildebeest Postulate

The Kalahari; vast, silent, deadly. The end of the rainy season, the mid-day heat surpasses a hundred and twenty. One of the varieties of waterfowl, most notably the flame red flamingo that nested in the great salt pans in Botswana, has begun its annual migration. In the muck of one of the fresh-water pools that had almost completely evaporated, writhes a squirming black mass of underdeveloped tadpoles. A lone Baobab tree pokes skyward from the middle of the barren savanna. In its shade, standing shoulder to shoulder and facing out, a herd of wildebeest surveys the landscape for predators.  Sir David Attenborough and PBS can’t be far away.

Some things never change. I make my way across the freshly laid macadam to meet the school bus. Fifty feet in front of me is a young silver maple tree, the buds of its green leaves yielding only the slightest hint of spring hidden deep within. The late afternoon sun casts a slender shadow across the sodded common area. One by one they come—soccer moms; big moms, little moms, moms who climb on rocks; fat moms, skinny moms, even moms with chicken pox—sorry, I couldn’t stop myself—as they will every day at this same time, seeking protection in its shade. My neighbors.  It’s only sixty-five today, yet they seek protection from the nonexistent heat, a habit born no doubt from bygone sweltering summer days. A ritual. An inability to change. In a few weeks the leaves will be in their full glory, and the moms will remain in the shadow of what once was, standing shoulder to shoulder facing outward, scanning the horizon for the bus. A herd. Just like wildebeest.

The children debus–I invented the word.  Mine hand me their backpacks, lunch boxes, and musical instruments.  I look like a Sherpa making my way home from K-2.

I shared this analogy with the neighborhood moms—the bruises will fade gradually. I can state with some degree of certainty they were not impressed with being compared to wildebeest. So here we go, buckle up. By now you’re thinking, “There must be a pony in here somewhere.”

Some things never change; it’s not for lack of interest, but for lack of a changer.  For real change to occur someone needs to be the changer, otherwise it’s just a bunch of people standing shoulder to shoulder looking busy. How are you addressing the change that must occur for EHR to be of any value?  EHR is not about the EHR.  It’s not about ARRA money, and it is not about IT.  It is about moving from a 0.2 business model to 2.0.  You need someone who sees the vision of what is is—sorry, too Clintonian—must lead.  Be change.

One of the great traits of wildebeest is that they are great followers.

saint Paul M. Roemer
Chief Imaginist, Healthcare IT Strategy

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

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