Keynote presentation for Indiana HIMSS Midwest Fall Technology Conference on October 24, 2017, honoring the life of patient advocate and healthcare industry change champion, Jess Jacobs. Addresses the value of "value-based care" from the perspective of a chronic and complex patient who captured, quantified, analyzed, and shared her journey navigating her care - and specific ways we, collectively, can improve similar experiences for others.
7. “It’s OK that you are not a specialist in the
condition. I am.”
“I need help now…If you are not willing
and able to help me, who in your practice
is?”
“Would have liked to have this
conversation with you in person but you
have no availability this month.”
“It’s OK that you are not a specialist in the
condition. I am.”
“I need help now…If you are not willing
and able to help me, who in your practice
is?”
“Would have liked to have this
conversation with you in person but you
have no availability this month.”
Is this the “value” the
healthcare industry
keeps talking about
delivering with
“value-based care”?
“I know all too well how complicated and rare POTS is. I’ve lived with this diagnosis for five years. It’s ok that you are not a specialist in the condition. I am. Since I was diagnosed, I've read every single peer reviewed article on the disease published since 2000. My succinct Health Plan and Summary includes a table at the end that summarizes treatment options from these articles and my experience with each option. As to the realities of the condition – I haven’t left the house to go anywhere except physician appointments this year. I have a wheelchair. I refuse to go down stairs for fear of another knee subluxation. My last relationship ended over it. I have tried 27 different pharmacologic therapies. I currently take 15 pills a day. I stab myself 6 times a day - 7 if I have to access my central line. I get it.”
As to the pain and condition prognosis, please remember that POTS is secondary to my underlying Ehlers-Danlos. Ehlers-Danlos is also the reason my joints swell, pop in and out of place, and are a source of pain. So, yes, there is idiopathic pain in my chest; but there is also pain with an identifiable musculoskeletal source. This has been evaluated by 3 separate pain specialists who concur that opiates are appropriate for my disease state. Seeking out another pain specialist will not change this fact.
A friend who is a physician remarked that most pain management clinics in San Francisco refuse to give prescriptions for opioids, instead giving the recommendation to the person’s PCP to reinforce the PCP as being central to the patient’s care. Her point being that if this was indeed your office policy it precludes chronic pain patients from being members. I was so curious that I called the central group number and found out that your office does not have a blanket policy and does opioid management on a case-by-case basis. In other words, you lied to me.
In addition to several community neurologists and cardiologists, I've seen POTS specialists at Stanford, Hopkins, and Georgetown. My most recent cardiologist has tried different therapies, which is far more than his predecessor did by saying that I’d grow out of it. I do not need to see another POTS specialist. I do, however, need to see a rheumatologist and neurologist. The rheumatologist scheduling song-and-dance routine took over a month and two hours of my time; the neurologist you referred me to didn't have any availability until June.
The majority of my friends are allied the healthcare field – doctors, health lawyers, nurses, health administrators – and all ask “who’s coordinating all of this?” to which I say I am and then they all stress about who is going to take over when I start puking and can’t get off the floor on my own.
I’m not sure where they got the notion that my primary care physician should coordinate my care, maybe they were looking at NCQA’s patient centered medical homes model, or found a copy of the Accountable Care Organization regulations from CMS, or listened to people discuss Obamacare on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. All I know is that they all say that a PCP is the person to coordinate care.
In my search to figure out what this actually means, a physician friend turned me onto Vernon Wilson’s 1969 article entitled “Prototype of a Doctor.” Wilson postulates that as a continuing medical advocate for their patient, a PCP’s job is to evaluate and coordinate patient care and “accept responsibility not merely pass it along – utiliz[ing] specialists rather than surrendering to them.”
By telling me that my condition is complex and stating that I should just see additional specialists, you are surrendering. And not even surrendering to anyone in particular – your referrals are not likely to materialize for months. I've been living in my friend's guest room since being discharged from the hospital a month ago because it's unsafe for me to live alone. I need help now, and, as these specialists are unavailable to provide the care, my primary care physician should provide it.
So, this leads me to ask: If you are not willing and able to help me, who in your practice is?
Would have liked to have this conversation with you in person but you have no availability this month.
Best,
Jess”
Now, it may be somewhat unusual for a PCP to essentially fire a patient for being too complicated and needy. But on the flip side of that equation, how do PCPs really feel about their ability to deliver value as the de facto “voluntold” quarterbacks of the care team? Care coordination for patients with any complex needs, whether situational or ongoing, can be a full-time job by itself (as many caregivers would attest); is it reasonable to expect that a doctor whose job is being a diagnostician should also manage the often labrynthian referrals and authorization processes – AND monitor the outcome (like, did the patient actually SEE that specialist within the time they should have)? The process of generating the referral has no value if the consult doesn’t happen. Which brings me to a more common complaint.
We all know that Jess’ frustration finding timely access to specialist care isn’t unique to rare disease patients. It’s not that the specialists don’t WANT to see all the patients referred (right?), but there are only so many specialists in a geography, and only so many network contract arrangements, and only so many appointment windows. The 3 month plus waiting period she referenced here isn’t unusual, and we don’t have to look any farther than the scandal at the VA to know the poor outcomes that happen when those who need care can’t get it in time.
Months of waiting without help. PCPs firing patients for being desperately sick. Is this the value we’re supposed to be delivering with “value-based care”? Jess sure didn’t think so – and she kept sharing examples of the ways we were failing her.
What is the e=mc squared of health-value? How would you define it?
Read “On the Worst Healthcare Experience of my Life”