I like my doctor, but the tart was a little dry

This morning's New York Times has a nice opinion piece about publishing patient ratings of doctors. The editorial board likes it. I like it. Patients like it. Who doesn't like it?

Doctors with low ratings, I suppose. (Note, that could be me; I've never seen patient ratings of me or my clinic.)

Note that the questions used in the Zagat/WellPoint ratings (yes, Zagat) appear to be built, at least in part, around validated patient experience questions from Gordon Moore's research. From the NYT:

Who knows better than patients whether they have confidence in a doctor? Whether they like his or her bedside manner? Or find it easy or hard to make appointments? Or are dealt with on time or kept waiting for hours? Or find the staff helpful? These are the kinds of items covered in the Zagat/WellPoint survey, not anything to do with the quality of medical care provided.

These are similar to Moore's patient experience questions:

1. I have one person I think of as my personal doctor or nurse
2. It is very easy for me to get medical care when I need it
3. Most of the time, when I visit my doctor’s office, it is well-organized, efficient, and does not waste my time
4. The information given to me about health problems is very good
5. I am confident that I can manage and control most of my health problems
6. I feel able to give meaningful feedback to my doctor’s office about ways things could be improved

Wouldn't you feel like you were being well-served as a patient if you could answer yes (enthusiastically) to these questions?

As a physician, I have an obligation to provide the highest-quality medical advice, supported by science. I also have to be a good practicing colleage to other physicians and staff who need my work to be thorough, clear, and timely.

But I also have to keep in mind the perspective of my patients, what they want and need. Doing a good job for them also means responding to the issues surfaced in the Zagat/WellPoint and Moore patient experience items.

It doesn't mean patients will always agree with my recommendations, or that I'll agree with their assessments and requests, if science and common sense suggest otherwise. But the experience ought to be efficient, respectful, and thorough.

I'm glad someone is measuring. Maybe I could be, like, the Nobu of family doctors one day.

Twittering the Future of Family Medicine?

I had the chance last night to meet with some amazing family doctors to discuss ways to use social media to open and sustain a discussion about the current state of primary care and where we're going. And where we should be going. And how.

There will be room for every voice and perspective about how to get from where where we are now to someplace (or places) better for patients, public health, and the well-being of those who deliver primary care.

Primary care is stressed:

• Access is poor: the uninsured don't have access, and if everyone did have insurance, we wouldn't have enough primary care doctors to care for them;
• Costs are out of control, and we don't get much health for our health care dollars;
  
• Reform at the federal level isn't as near as maybe we'd all thought. The white knight of bipartisan reform, Tom Daschle, got knocked out with an IRS body blow. And getting a big deal done on health care seems unlikely, even if it is even more important now than ever.

So what to do? There is tremendous support, in spirit, for better primary care, and it seems now that everyone wants a "Medical Home," though no one can agree on what that means, and the average primary care private practice can't afford to build one.

At out discussion last night, we agreed that there are things family doctors can do right now to move primary care forward at the front lines of practice. And we'll talk about those things in the online forum we're building. We'll blog, podcast, photograph, and discuss the path from here to somewhere better. And we'll make it practical. There's enough rhetoric already.

My assignment: name the project. Eep.

I'm on it.

Stress-free primary care?

When I graduated from medical school in 2005, my friend Liz gave me a label maker and a book called Getting Things Done (GTD). I assumed it was a gag gift, though I knew Liz to be a fan of GTD and its author, David Allen, a productivity swami. I thought it was interesting, so I read it.

And then I labeled everything.

Over the last few years, I have practiced a watered-down version of the GTD process, which advocates "stress free productivity" through effective management of the information that comes to us faster and faster. When the mind is unburdened of the task of remembering all the things there are to do, it is possible to be present for whatever task is at hand.

Through residency, this was tough. The task at hand generally involved some high-stakes activity performed in the setting of sleep deprivation and incompetence-by-design. Delivering babies, for example: you become competent by doing it, they come in the middle of the night, and it's a big deal if you screw it up. There was little about residency that allowed for stress free productivity. I did what I could, but there were limits. Mostly, I just crashed through.

I've been out of residency less than a year, and have been a full time family doctor for a little over six months. I work five full days in clinic, seeing about eighteen patients a day for multiple concerns, acute and chronic. I also manage dozens of lab and study results every day, and respond to patient phone calls and email.

My goal: go in every morning relaxed and prepared for whatever comes my way and leave at the end of the day having acted on every piece of information that came my way. That doesn't meet I've cured everybody, cure is pretty rare in medicine.

But hope that by day's end I will have responded to every item that demanded my attention in a appropriate way:

• Every patient visit ends with a mutually agreed plan;
• Every patient call that came in got an answer, a plan;
• I reviewed every lab or study result and made a plan;
• I updated patient charts to clearly describe the plan to everyone who might need to know.
• I set up reminders to myself so I don't worry that I'll forget about important parts of the plan.
  

When I accomplish all those things, there is an empty in-box in front of me, ready to receive whatever might arrive next.

More importantly, my head is not cluttered with all the things I "should" be doing or trying to remember all the things that might be coming in. Unburdened, I feel much more able to be fully present for patients during the twenty minutes I get with them. We have a lot to do in those brief visits and they expect my full attention. When I'm on my game, they get it.

Maybe I'll write more about this later. It seems like a good topic to explore further (running a visit, how the day flows, setting reminders, updating care plans, teamwork and communication, cross-covering for colleagues...)

But it's time to get started with the day, so off I go.

Shadowing

Yesterday, I spent the morning shadowing my colleague while he saw patients in our clinic. The goal was for me to learn how one doctor manages the flow of a busy clinic while still providing good care to patients and addresses all their issues.

I love shadowing. In residency, we rarely shadowed our colleagues or faculty. Life was too busy, too scheduled, too chaotic. We de facto shadowed specialists in their clinics on some rotations, but I had no personal investment in their practices, I didn't have to do their jobs.

Shadowing colleagues in my own clinic is different. Watching doctors with strong medical and communication skills, working efficiently with complex cases, is inspiring. In my post yesterday, I hinted at how a visit can get bogged down in chart review, and that there appears to be a better way to use the electronic record, on a screen, to engage with patients.

What I observed in shadowing this week was a great demonstration about how to use the screen as a visual aid in addressing concerns. There seem to be a few guiding principles I should follow:

1. Turn the screen toward the patient! What I can see, my patient should see. It's their health record, no secrets.

2. Exhaust the patient's list of concerns ("What's on your mind today? What else? And what else?" Until the answer is "that's it.") This I learned in medical school and residency. But now I'm learning to make sure I note it in the chart when the patient brings it up. I put their list on the screen for us both to see: our agenda.

3. Ask permission to go through their problem list (these are the things the patient is currently dealing with, things we should check in about frequently) to make sure it looks right. Patients who use our online service can view their problem lists at home. I also ask if we can look at the medication list on the screen, make sure patients know exactly what they're taking and what the meds are for.

4. Update lists and important information in the room, with the patient. It would be easy to think that this is a waste of time, especially when visits a stacked every 20 minutes or so, but I think patients appreciate it, and as we tend this clinical data, we're talking about a lot of health issues. The list work just gets us started and help us cover a lot of important ground.

5. Get it done now. I had a patient ask if he should take an antibiotic before his upcoming surgery. I told him I didn't know, but we should ask his surgeon. So we did, right away. I sent an email to his surgeon and the task was done. Or started, at least (we'll need an answer).

6. Summarize! Doctors review plans with patients all the time. Then both doctors and patients forget. Our electronic record has a very nice after-visit summary function into which I can type patient instructions, which I do in the form of a brief letter, noting what we agreed to during our visit. Again, I write this while the patient watches (I type fast), then review it with the patient to make sure I got it right. I print it and give it to them as I walk with them down the hall.

I'm sure there are more principles I can generate, but I'll stop there. It's getting late.

But before I go, one more word about shadowing. I learn so much from watching others do what I do. This was true when I was an actor, and it's true in medicine (also a performance of sorts). I think healthy medical practices should all encourage regular shadowing of colleagues so docs can pick up (and demonstrate) good habits and not get stuck in their settled inclinations.

Like Chauncey Gardner, I like to watch. I think we all should.

Work: A New Job

This is tardy. Apologies.

I have this new job. I've had it since last December, actually, but I just started last week, after several wonderful weeks of summer. My job is with Group Health Cooperative, as a family doctor in the Burien clinic.

"Burien," most people say, "why on earth would you go to Burien to work?"

It's my dream job. That's what I thought when I took it, that's what I think now. What's happening there is what should be happening all over the nation. We're practicing a new model of primary care, the "Medical Home," with a goal to be the model clinic on which others build their own practices.

But I can't really help my colleagues spark a health care renaissance until I learn where the bathrooms are, so I'm taking it slow, and I'm grateful that others are dedicated to transitioning me to my job in a humane, rational way. It's a complicated system.

I started last week with several days of orientation: benefits for a day, the electronic medical record (EMR) for two days, and a day of finding the bathrooms and learning how things work in my clinic. On day five, last Friday, I saw my first post-residency patient. Practicing on my very own license.

Yikes.

The support is wonderful, though. The co-op has a great consultation process, using secure email, through which I can ask specialists to comment on the care I'm giving. A quick question with the chart "attached" (we all use the same medical record), and within a day I have recommendations to help guide the care I'm giving. It's great, and helps me to continue learning at a rapid pace.

I've been seeing patients at a slower rate than my much more experienced colleagues, and for this I am grateful. I use the extra time I have to get used to the logistics of delivering care in a new place that is part of a big, complicated, but effective network of resources. It's not always intuitive how to get something done. I use every minute I've got learning how to be more thorough and more efficient.

One of my big challenges--one I'm thrilled to take on--is to integrate technology (our EMR) into visits in a way that engages patients and doesn't shut them out. Often, even with paper charts, the visit can become a kind of one-on-one between doctor and chart, with patients pushed aside while doctors dig for old notes, labs, and results to try to make sense of the patient sitting in front of them. In residency, I had many moments like this, me looking for a mammogram result while the patient looked at me looking down into a mess of paper.

I could easily make the same mistake, though at least it would be a paperless offense. What I've learned though shadowing one of my partners is to use the EMR with the patient to be more thorough, cover every concern the patient brings, and finish the work of coordinating and documenting care before seeing the next patient.

For those readers who don't have to chart for a living, I'll just say that's a huge accomplishment. The norm in primary care is "batch and cue," meaning a doctor finishes seeing a patient and puts the work generated by that visit into a cue--or a pile--to complete at the end of the morning, the day, or even later.

Trouble is, how do we remember everything that happened in the visit? We don't. We start forgetting things the moment the visit ends, and if we don't get to the work (making notes, writing orders, reviewing results) quickly, important things fall out of our heads, and things get left undone. Not good for patient care. Not good for clinic employees. Not good for families of clinic employees.

"Today's work today" is the buzz I've heard among the new model folks. What I'm learning at Group Health is even more immediate: something like "this moment's work this moment." Whatever our patients bring to discuss, we can work on it now.

We have powerful tools available to help us accomplish this, and I hope to write more about these tools and my experience as I learn (I'll bundle these under the label "work").

For now I'll say this. I am happy.