I’m committed to and invested in evidence-based health and wellness. I get my flu shots, exercise every day, and take my cholesterol meds. I check out studies so I’m informed when I make decisions with my neurologist. I am committed to patient-centered research. This week I was intrigued by a conversation in Washington @PCORI (Patient Center Outcomes Research Institute) about the challenge of following up with people using medications in off-label ways (no formal evidence, many experiments of one). The thing about evidence is how does evidence happen when there is patient and/or clinician creativity? People try something, it helps. They share on @PatientsLikeMe,@mypatientsMatch or social media. Someone else tries it. It helps some and not others. How does that experience turn into evidence? A challenge is that such data is either not collected or so spread out that it can’t become evidence. Plus, it’s tough to collect data about how stuff works. How can studies be done about people after they feel better? Continue reading
10p New Year’s night 2002: Mike called me. I’m numb on my right side. My heart screamed. My boy had a stage 4 melanoma removed from his neck a year ago followed by lymph node removal and a course of Interferon. Go to the Emergency Department. The next day a metastasized brain tumor the size of a grape was removed. Soon he had a lung tumor the size of an orange removed. He called them Terrence (the brain tumor) and Caesar (the lung tumor). Once sufficiently recovered from the surgeries, he began treatment at the cancer center close to his college home. A team of me, my wife and the parents of his girlfriend (who lived near their college home) alternated accompanying Mike on his visits to the cancer center. Mike never felt that he had the information he needed. They wouldn’t talk prognosis: Am I going to die? They didn’t explain uncertainty: What does 5% chance of anything mean? I’m 26! They seemed to speak to us more than him. After a particularly frustrating session with the oncologist, I asked him if I could arranged a consultation in the cancer center near us. He agreed. I did. What a difference. Mike immediately bonded with the radiation oncologist. Let me speak with Mike alone. After an hour, Mike came out. I’m probably going to die, but there’s stuff we can try. Oh well, I wasn’t born with a tattoo on my ass telling me how long I had to live. He died November 18th, 2002. Continue reading
Three weeks ago I wrote about navigating our experiment of one. This navigation is health planning over a lifetime. Health Planning over a Lifetime includes having destinations or goals and deciding what needs to happen to get there. Who’s going to do what, by when? How will we recognize when we’ve arrived. It helps to anticipate risks and barriers (those unexpected forks in the road), and have a plan to prevent or manage those unexpected forks. We’ll want to track and share progress. We need a table to sit down and process what we’ve learned, so we can change course when necessary. The health and wellness industry hasn’t provided us with the setting, the skills, or the technology for this vital health planning over lifetimes. It’s nowhere. Continue reading
I’m a technology nerd and early adopter while also a profound technology skeptic. My heart sings when communities of people solve problems that matter to them and theirs and then look for technology partners to automate and share their solutions. By community, I mean partnerships of people at the center of care (people, care partners, clinicians) and neighborhoods, counties and states.
Recently, I spent a few days with big data, technology, entrepreneurs, and healthcare under the big top of Health 2.0 in Palo Alto. CA – a relatively low-key festival of mostly entrepreneurs trying to sell big data and apps with the edge of worry about engaging patients in their data and products. I felt at home with my advocacy and community browsing new ideas and new uses for technology Continue reading
I was discharged after bypass surgery with 26 pages of instructions. I was just concerned about getting home.
My dad lives alone on the other coast. He takes 11 medications from 4 different providers. At least one gives him a blood thinner. What do I do if he bleeds?
I can get my acupuncturist and massage therapist to talk to each other, but not my doctor. They’re all helping me with my neuropathy pain.
My doctor tells me that if I get this surgery I’ll have a 10% chance of living longer and 1% chance of serious complications. What does that mean for me?
The doctor told my mom that she can’t drive anymore. How will she get her groceries, her meds, to her doctor appointments?
Who will feed my cat if I have to go to the hospital?
I live 4 miles up a dirt road. Will I be able to stay in my house?
It’s complicated to manage health and wellness. Planning and living care is daunting. The journey occurs inside and outside of the medical space. Sometimes we travel alone and sometimes with our care partners and health team. Always within our communities. The journey is our life – one foot in front of the other, with expected and unexpected, desired and undesired forks in the road. We can wing it or look for a map. We have evidence of what works – sort of and sometimes. The evidence is about specific routes for groups of people. You and I may be on an unusual route. You and I are not groups of people, we are one person in many groups. Once a person decides or needs to feel better, a roadmap helps. A roadmap plus stopping periodically to check if you’re still heading to your destination. Continue reading
My mom insisted on end-of-life care at home. At the same time she worried about being a burden to her family. A few weeks before she died, when she once more lamented being a burden, I said, Mom you are a burden, get over it. We did. Thankfully, she laughed and accept it.
Her husband wanted to die at home, but she couldn’t handle being a caregiver and put him in a nursing home. Fortunately, we could afford nursing home care for my step-dad and we could afford 24/7 care for my mom at home for her last month with family rotating in from the other coast. It was still exhausting for everyone. When my wife and I discuss end-of-life and I filled out paperwork about my wishes, I emphasize care at home. Now I realize that is selfish. I don’t want to burn my family out. The same burden my mother worried about. If they need to put me in a nursing home, I’ll deal with that. Continue reading
I play baritone saxophone in community Latin and blues funk bands. Our professional musician leader teaches us the language of music theory – this week it’s Minor Dorian and Lydian scales. As an amateur I understand about a third of what he’s talking about. Still better than a quarter understood six months ago. In Washington this week I reviewed funding applications for PCORI (Patient Centered Outcomes Research Institute). I serve as a patient reviewer. I made a point about the impact that the frailty of a person with congestive heart failure might have on readmission to the hospital. The review leader asked me if I meant xxxxxxxx (something about the methodology of the research study). I had to say, probably not, since I didn’t understand a word you just said. I understand about 2/3 of the scientific conversation at these sessions. I also take part in calls for OpenID HEART Working Group that intends to harmonize and develop a set of privacy and security specifications that enable an individual to control the authorization of access to RESTful health-related data sharing APIs, and to facilitate the development of interoperable implementations of these specifications by others. I still don’t really understand those words. I understand about 25% of the conversation, up from the 5% understanding when I started a year or so ago. Continue reading
I officiated at my 26th wedding yesterday – a young lady I’ve known since she was born. So honored to be asked. Now I’m in DC to meet the few week-old son of a couple who’s wedding I performed several years ago. After the 10th marriage I’ve done, I say to every couple, there’s a minute before which you aren’t married and the next minute you are. What’s the difference? Five of the first ten are still married. All of the rest are still married. Correlation? Who knows?
Life is a series of thresholds. The minute before and the minute after. We transform during thresholds. I relish participating as a minister, a nurse, or as a human in transforming thresholds. Thresholds are intimate and beautiful. It’s love. So whether it’s a wedding, at the clinic’s registration desk, hearing good or bad news, or simply witnessing a life moment, how we engage people over thresholds profoundly affects the experience for us and for them. Be present, appreciate, wonder, make a difference. Thanks.
In our 30’s we lived in West Virginia – very rural, back-to-the-land hippies, eight miles up a dirt road. We participated in many communities. Our intentional community of families shared 180 acres of land, helped each other build our houses, raised our kids together, home schooled, with some facsimile of farming – garden, bees, fruit trees, chickens. Another community was the town emergency squad where I volunteered as a paramedic and my wife drove the ambulance. The community of young back-to-the-landers throughout the state was yet another community – playing music, partying, sharing skills, stories and resources. A different community was that of a state-wide network of people teaching Advanced Cardiac Life Support – meeting twice a year to train trainers and then traveling to teach at each other’s courses. Another, was the group of people lobbying for homeschooling in the state capital – conservative Christians alongside hippies. Although it’s the most rural I’ve ever lived, I grew up in Chicago and Detroit, I had the highest sense of community there in rural WV.
[Thanks to readers who let me know that the post was missing something – the first paragraph]
Have I written about the Quadruple Aim of healthcare?
1. Improving the patient experience of care,
2. Improving the health of populations,
3. Reducing the per capita cost of health care, and
4. Improving the work life of clinicians and staff.
I live to compete in this quadratholon. While my focus is the first and fourth – experience of patients and work life of clinicians and staff – the finish line is the second – improving the health of populations. I fear that wild success in experience, cost, and work life might not result in improving the health of populations. Improving the health and well-being of neighborhoods, counties, teens, professional athletes, diabetics, etc. may not be the sum of improving the health of each individual in those populations.
In 2007, I worked for St. Peter’s Recovery Center in Guilderland, NY. My boss, Bob Doherty, had the vision, the foresight, and the stones to engage a whole community to improve the care of persons most disabled by substance abuse. He convened the homeless shelters, religious communities, law enforcement, social services, ambulance companies, emergency rooms, and other community services to take on this intractable puzzle together. Brilliant! Continue reading