Showing posts with label burning platform. Show all posts
Showing posts with label burning platform. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Islands

Remember Gilligan’s Island? No? Well, the rest of us will wait here while you catch up.

Part of the fun I had while watching that TV show was seeing the incredible contraptions – from a washing machine to a pedal-powered car - the castaways constructed to make their life easier. (I still enjoy hearing about ingenious solutions to everyday problems. That’s part of what has made our Clinical Practice Redesign project satisfying to me.)

But, the Gilligan’s Island community had its limitations. Even though each of the 7 residents played a unique role (only 6 roles, if you count the Howell’s as one amalgamated upper-class twit), they never managed to reach their goal of leaving the island. Even though the island was idyllic, both naturally and due to their bamboo gadgetry, they still wanted to go home. But, they were never able to muster the resources to do so. The castaways occasionally had visitors from the outside world, but circumstances were comically contrived so that escape remained elusive.

I think we’re in a Gilligan’s Island situation in our office. We’ve made a lot of successful internal changes. Our practice is more efficient and (we hope!) more effective. But, there are some changes that we can’t make on our own island. We rely on other practitioners and services to provide a continuum of patient care. But circumstances remain not-so-comically contrived to that improved patient access remains elusive.

The wait time for specialist consultation has been our main target. But, that’s only one part of what makes up the patient’s experience. Patients wait to see their GP, then for testing, then to review the tests with their GP, then for a specialist referral, and so on, until they have their problem resolved. A more patient-centred metric would be to measure the time between onset of symptoms to complete recovery. Attempts to measure this time illustrate the complexity of our healthcare system, and the interrelationships between individual departments.

Our recent office blitz made us more aware of the way our private practice meshes with other parts of Saskatoon Health Region (SHR). We anticipated that we would need better access to xray procedures – mainly CT scans – in order to be able to schedule patients on short notice. The SHR xray department was very helpful when we approached them about this, and allotted specific times for our blitz patients to receive CT scans.

However, the increased patient volume over the blitz period caused a surge in the number of other procedures being scheduled, and we haven’t received additional resources to deal with that. Cystoscopies have been particularly challenging to complete in a timely fashion. Also, many of our patients still wait up to a year for certain kinds of surgery.

The problem is that we’re all living on individual healthcare islands, each with its own culture. On some of the islands, conditions are rough and the inhabitants are motivated to make changes to improve their lot. I’ve been told that family practitioners are among the first to adopt Clinical Practice Redesign because they are overwhelmed by patient load and the need help to deal with multiple, chronic medical problems in their patients.

On other islands/practices, life is good – perfect weather, low-hanging fruit, no annoying insects. Why would anyone ever want to change? I’m not suggesting that anyone working in healthcare has this perfect situation, but some of us are more comfortable than others. And so, when the hard-living inhabitants of one island call for help from their more fortunate neighbors, what’s in it for those living the easy life? We market Clinical Practice Redesign by telling doctors “Trust us. If you try it, things will be better!” (Disclaimer: I think it is better!) If you were living in paradise, would you want to take a chance that the next island over was an even better paradise?

To get everyone working toward the same goal, someone has to turn up the heat. On Gilligan’s Island, it would be a plot device like rumbling and smoke coming from the island’s volcano. In healthcare, motivation could come from various sources:

- Make public, transparent and accurate reports of wait times for GP and specialist visits, cancer treatment, surgical and other procedures. Report by practitioner and health region. We’re a competitive bunch, and no one wants to be at the back of the pack.

- Make it financially disadvantageous to ignore long wait times. Reward practitioners who manage their resources wisely. Put your money where your mouth is.

- Offer support and education to help practitioners apply Advanced Access principles. People can’t improve the system if they don’t know what tools are available (see “Juice”).

- Prove that paradise does exist – showcase examples of successful initiatives that have improved the lives of patients and practitioners.

Anyone know where we can find an angry volcano god?


Monday, November 30, 2009

Blessing in Disguise

Our fridge conked out two weeks ago. Not the main kitchen fridge, mind you; it was the basement auxiliary fridge that died. So, it wasn’t an absolute crisis, but it has made us rethink some of our habits.

The luxury of having a 2nd fridge gives us extra food-storage capacity. But that extra capacity has made us a little careless. Here’s what’s changed at our house over the last 2 weeks:
  • We actively consider what’s in the fridge. Usually, leftovers would get pushed to the back of the shelf and, unless someone was specifically looking for that item, would often be discovered weeks later (inedible!). We’re wasting less food.
  • If food does go stale, it gets thrown out before it gets too disgusting.
  • I pack leftovers in my lunch more frequently. My intent is to make room in the fridge, but I’ve discovered that it also saves time when I’m putting a lunch together. Putting leftovers in a container is usually quicker than making a sandwich. It saves even more time if I remember to put some leftovers directly into a small container when I’m cleaning up after supper.
  • We’re more careful about the size of storage containers we use. Rather than grabbing the first available container and then filling it halfway, we’ll pick a smaller container that will be filled completely.