Three (and a half) years ago, when I left my old practice, I was near burnout. I was exhausted, not because of the amount of time I was spending — it was actually about the same, if not less than I had worked before — but because of an ever-increasing gulf between me and my patients. I have always tried to give care that focused on the person with me in the exam room, but did so against a growing current constantly pushing me away from my patients, a current emanating from the system that was built to serve them.
My early adoption of computerized records (1997) was not because of my fondness for technology, but because I felt it was the quickest and most efficient way to organize and retrieve the information necessary for good care. I was obsessed with improving workflow in the office, as any efficiency would buy me a little more time to focus on clinical care. As this obsession grew, the gulf between me and the other physicians in the practice, who didn’t share my focus on patients, grew inextricably and irrevocably wide. The end result was a “divorce” from my partners. I was ushered out with a nice plaque, some cake, a buy-out check, and a firm “pat” on the back as I walked out the door.
Three years does a lot to crystallize one’s view of the past and why things really happened. I didn’t really understand the cause of the divorce while it was happening; how it could happen that within a very short time, I went from a sure future as senior partner to an outsider. I went from architect of medical records and caretaker of my patients to having no access to the those records of my care.
Your patients are rating you online: How to respond. Manage your online reputation: A social media guide. Find out how.
No comments:
Post a Comment