Quick update

Just a quick note to say that while I have been gone, I hope I’ve not been forgotten! I have had a fair share of personal life crises in the last few weeks and even hand (wrist) surgery yesterday for an injury a few months ago, so I need to keep this brief. I just felt bad letting one more day go without at least posting SOMETHING for passers by/feeds/etc to see some activity to know that the blog hasn’t shut down.

Let me get another day or two post-op and I’ll share some of what’s been going on lately. And remember: I’m always posting something on Twitter, so remember you can always follow me there (and read excerpts in the sidebar to the right). More soon!

Small Changes, Big Dividends

Hello and Happy New Year!  I know I took an unexpected blogging hiatus, and while I did plan on taking a small break through Christmas, the rest was, well, unfortunately not how I thought things would go down. I’ll come to talk about things soon enough, but for now I want to concentrate on getting some “real” content flowing. I refuse for the blog to continue to go stale because of things as mundane as personal problems.

Tuesday is an historic day as we swear in our 44th president, Barack Obama. Personally I’m jealous I don’t live in the DC area anymore (Fairfax County across the river, same difference) because I’d love to be part of a part of a part of something that day. Oh well. But it’s just a day in the end, and much work needs to be done in our nation, one of the most pressing issues being health care reform. I’m neither a practicing physician nor a policy analyst, so I’m not going to embarrass myself with attempts at unoriginality against such smarter people, but I can say what works from a patient’s perspective, especially one who can see both sides of the issue natively. “What do you mean? What do patients have to do with health care reform?”  They’re intimately involved in it! Left out of so many policy discussions, the patient-end of the equation is critical, but more on that later.

This last November I had a silly incident with my wrist and the side of a car that hurt at the time but I blew off, blaming as much my clumsiness as anything else. After weeks of not feeling better and rest/anti-inflammatories not making a difference, I finally got it looked at and wound up at this hand-specializing orthopedic surgeon, MRIs in hand (ha ha) showing a tear (that’s a separate post).  I was very impressed with him and his approach, appreciating his conservative management style. I normally don’t let on I’m a med student for a variety of reasons, but he asked what I studied (chart said “Occupation =  student”) and when I told him, he became even more effusive and engaging. Interestingly enough, we talked mostly about policy issues! (it’s on everyone’s mind right now!)

Regarding my condition, he said he wanted to do a steroid/lidocaine injection into the joint space to give short-term relief, re-evaluate in a month. As many of you know, I’m a classical pianist, and while I don’t play regularly these days, the very idea of a complication that could compromise that aspect of my life mortifies me, so I’m happy with baby steps. He’d be back in a bit and added, “Oh, and I have a letter for you,” as he handed me a piece of paper that for whatever reason I noticed immediately was both hand-signed and on good cotton-fiber paper stock. Still a bit taken aback, I asked, “What’s this about?”  He smiled and said, “I’m an old-fashioned guy, that’s all. I’ll be back in a bit,” and closed the door, instructing the other side for his assistant to begin the prep for the injection.

As I waited, I read this hand signed letter. Here are the relevant excerpts:

A Personal Letter From Your Doctor, MD

Dear Mr. Cantu:

Thank you for coming in today to consult with me regarding your medical care. I appreciate and respect your trust in me as your doctor and orthopedic surgeon. I strongly recommend you share in the responsibility of treating your condition. You can do this by following any medical advice given and keeping scheduled follow-up appointments. Timely follow-up is extremely important as delay in treatment could lead to deterioration or, even worse, permanent dysfunction.

On occasion, delays occur in the office. I ask for your patience as these delays are due to attending patients with complex issues. We will try to keep you informed when such delays occur. I assure you that should your medical problem require extra time, it will be fully provided.

Lastly, it is the policy of this office that all proven conservative (non-surgical) treatment options will be embarked on firstly. Surgical intervention is only offered if conservative treatment fails to alleviate your symptoms.

[closing paragraph, thank you, etc]

Is that awesome or what?  I also noticed in the letterhead the abbreviation FRCS for Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons in the UK (he’s also an American FACS here, for what it’s worth). He had mentioned training in Canada (his ethnic origin is Caribbean of some kind, didn’t ask) but obviously there is some of that “English gentleman” thing going on here. I know good and well it’s a form letter coming off a laser printer at the last minute before entering the room, but it doesn’t matter. And if doesn’t matter for me, someone who sees what the wizard is doing behind the curtain, imagine how much more it can make a difference to an average patient, particularly older patients, who truly feel that they “connected” with their doctor in a unique and personal way–and on the first visit!

But the story doesn’t end there. After the injection I was waiting for 10 minutes or so to make sure it all got nice and happy in the joint space. Sir Orthopod came in and sat down, and started dictating in front of me. I thought this was a bit odd, though it’s happened on occasion before, but it was always when I was in a physician’s office already or in a hallway; in other words, it seemed like it was just occurring as a matter of course. This was different–he came into my exam room on his own volition, sat down, and started dictating into a digital recorder. He even paused once or twice to make sure he got something right, which he did, my thinking he was taking advantage of my being there out of convenience as I sat and listened patiently.

I thought during this he might just be more at ease because by this time he knew I was a medical student and felt comfortable dictating the technical behind-the-scenes in front of me, but in talking with him later, he said that he does that with all his patients. I was shocked! On the surface, it sounds like no big deal, but there’s a lot that can be said that can be taken the wrong way/misunderstood by someone who can’t parse the terminology/jargon, or feel that the physician “didn’t tell me that,” when in fact s/he did, they just used laymen’s terms in the conversation. But the surgeon said he does that intentionally to further avoid liability and increase transparency. It’s rare and more comes up with worker’s compensation and disability claim-type cases he said, but it’s very hard to claim “I had no idea,” when his standard practice–and that’s the key–is to dictate in front of the patient. The dictation is transcribed to the official record, and if the patient is present, that’s yet another opportunity to both 1) correct the record as it’s being dictated should the physician get something wrong, and 2) provide a legal support structure against false/misleading claims. Add a personal letter signed by hand, encouraging patient cooperation and apologizing in advance for minor inconveniences, etc. and you have a framework for the following:

• a happy patient who feels listened to and cared for (less likely to sue, far more likely to refer word-of-mouth to friends/family)
• a physician who knows how to invest, having just spent about $0.02 on a sheet of good paper stock and 1 second signing a letter for literally countless dollars of saved legal headaches, increased referrals, pleasant encounters, etc.
• a physician who spent ZERO extra time, but by dictating in front of the patient provided extra legal protection, greater fidelity of the medical record, and further fosters a sense of transparency and trust with the patient
• a patient whose medical expectations are manged from the start, thinking that because they were referred to a surgeon they need/will have surgery
• a patient whose expectations are managed WRT office wait times not only by telling them it can happen but assuring them their care will not be compromised when its their turn. This also takes the heat off of the front staff, and happy staff makes all the difference too.
• and perhaps most importantly, a patient who is invited to take an active role in partnership for their own care, hopefully achieving greater compliance for not only better outcomes but lower healthcare costs by avoiding complications, unnecessary procedures, etc.

The small steps taken by this doctor might seem trivial on the surface, but to me they’re genius because they accomplish so many good things in an honest way so effortlessly. The goal here is patient satisfaction and success with the added legal protection a bonus. This is just one relatively medium-sized solo practice in a small-medium south Texas city. Imagine if small changes like these were implemented everywhere, how much morale and rapport could improve, frivolous lawsuits could be avoided (or at least provide further disincentive), and how much the climate could change for the better all-around. I’m not idolizing this guy, I’m thinking beyond him to the bigger picture.

The other thing about his attitude, reflected in his letter, is the participation of the patient in their own care. We keep talking about health policy and reform from a top-down approach, changing insurance policy structures, provider reimbursement schedules, etc. rather than a bottom-up approach. While anyone really involved knows it’s a two-pronged approach, the media, and more importantly, too many patients feel they are mere bystanders in both the discussion and the solution, and I appreciate this physician opening the door to that reality for his patients. More on patient responsiblity in a separate post.

Hostile HIPAA

Adding to my new experiences as a patient, I have now run into heretofore unforeseen side of the HIPAA monster. As a patient, it should be protecting me, right? Of course not! Legislated in part to protect privacy, HIPAA is one of the most misunderstood and abused laws by healthcare personnel, particularly clerical staff at the front lines of the patient-physician records interface who may not have much of a healthcare (or all that much educational) background to boot. 

In my case, I called wanting a report from a minor surgery a few weeks after I had it done. I had already called the surgeon’s office and they said that while they did have a copy via their electronic medical record (EMR), the actual operative report was the hospital’s property and they couldn’t give me a copy; they just had viewing privileges, I was told. In the past, I’ve received every copy of everything I’ve ever wanted. This “ownership” business was nonsense–after all, this was my surgeon and the paper copy was in my chart. As long as I was there and asked for it, a simple copy had always been made for me to walk out with said report in hand. To be clear, I’m talking about post-HIPAA, not some wistful recollection of the way things were back in the “good old days.” Said surgeon recently moved into a brand spanking new office, has a ton of new staff, and I just thought that this was just a miscommunication–escalating to a supervisor or the like should resolve the problem.

Obviously it didn’t, but the fun was just about to begin. My instructions–reasonable, I might add–were to contact the hospital’s medical records department since they “owned” the information, and they could help me further. It was speaking to the medical records (“MR” below, because I like the double-entendre) office that thing became unglued. Below is a faithful transcript of our conversation, edited only for general length and idle banter:

Me: [explain my needs] So what procedure do you have for me to get a copy of the report?
MR: You need to come by–in person only with a picture ID–fill out some paperwork and pay a processing fee that starts at $42.50 for first 10 pages.
Me: $42-what?! The report is just one page, I think–maybe 2 at most. I mean, it’s on the screen–just hit ‘Print’
Me: Doesn’t matter if it’s 1 page or 10; it’s the same price.
MR: But wait, my family doctor’s been FAXed records from here–did you charge his office too?
MR: No, we don’t charge physicians because the request is for continuation of care. If we give a copy to you it’s not for continuation of care, it’s for your personal use.
Me: But the same work is being done, you just aren’t charging the doctor but are charging the patient? So it’s not a cost recovery, you’re penalizing the patient.

MR: We give it to the doctor electronically [not true, only applies to affiliated doctors in same med center]. We charge you or an insurance company because we have to physically process the record [what, press "Print" from the screen interface?!?] If it the report is for a doctor, they can access it electronically.
Me: But the doctor is in [my home city, 35 miles away], he’s always gotten records by fax.
MR: Well, we just went live with our new system in October.
Me: But if your system wasn’t live, you’re still saying you would charge me and not him.
MR: That’s correct, but slightly less than $42.50.

Me: OK, but I’m saying my doctor I know has no login credentials to your hospital, no privileges, nothing. So how can he get a copy?
MR: I’m guessing he’ll have to apply for access, but–well–I don’t know–I’m not the one that handles that, but in the meantime if he can’t get to it online, someone will have to pull the records, process it [again, this is just a quick computer search that takes 5-10 seconds], and send him the records–
Me: –which is my point: you’ll have to send him the records manually, but you aren’t going to charge him for the same work you’re going to charge me–
MR:  –That’s right! [Proudly, as though she's won an argument b/c I'm agreeing, which was most disturbing]
Me:  –someone is going to have to physically process this–
MR: Yes sir! [again, defiantly]
Me:   –and send it to my physician without charging him.
MR: Yes, because it’s for continuation of care [emphasis theirs, spoken slowly] and that’s something very different.
Me: [previously explained about my having been in Mexico, do have a "continuation of care" issue for my own recordkeeping] I already told you, I need the records for a physician in Mexico.
MR: If you can provide us with the name and address, we can release the records to him and mail them.
Me: To Mexico?!?!
MR: Yes sir, we can mail them.

Me: You have no idea what mail is like in Mexico; it will take a month at least if at all. I doubt you’ll pay the $30 for FedEx for that one page. Besides, are you sure all these fees are consistent with HIPAA and state regulations concerning access, etc?
MR: Yes sir, I can even provide you with a fee schedule.
Me: Can you fax that to me?
MR: Of course, let me get your fax number.

And with that deliciously ironic ending, the “labor” and “pulling records” was equal to the fax of that one page which they were all too willing to perform for free so their fees could be proudly shared. The 10 minute phone converation could have pulled at least 5 records and faxed as many copies. This is robbery, plain and simple.

HIPAA was crafted for portability (change in jobs, location, etc. doesn’t make one “start over” in terms of coverage) and security/privacy above all. It is, in spirit, supposed to be protective of the insured at the unfortunate and unfunded responsibiity of the healthcare provider caught in between trying to both comply and do right by the patient. I sympathize with this, but to selectively push costs back on the patient and not a physician–or more to the point, another business entity capable of absorbing said costs as the price of doing business–is predatory and in stark contrast to the spirit of the law. Moreover, HIPAA left way too much open to vague enforcement with language like “reasonable fee.”  It’s no wonder that individual state agencies and other entities are pushing the envelope with what’s “allowable” at the patient’s (ie, the person most exploitable and vulnerable) expense.

In the end, I got my report–not by paying $42.50 to the hospital, but at my next surgeon’s visit, I simply asked him if I could get a copy.  Without hesitation, he said “Sure!” and directed his nurse to go up front and make a copy for me on my way out.  Done. Piece of cake. HIPAA be damned.