Let’s continue the conversation about making choices along our health journey. I call this choice-making informed decision-making. Some call it shared decision-making, others call it clinical decision-making. Common to all three labels is that decisions are made based upon evidence (research) when evidence is available. Remember that evidence says that under specific circumstances for certain groups of people (populations or communities) choice A is more likely than choice B to lead to a desired goal or outcome. For me (an individual) sometimes it doesn’t. And, in spite of $billions spent on research, most health decisions lack a supporting body of evidence – just too many decisions out there. As a patient and caregiver, I know that most of my health-related decisions aren’t clinical. They involve my behavior and my team’s behavior, the environment, my genetics, my social circumstances, the community I live in, and, of course, luck. Read More
It’s hard to reach personal health goals or solve medical problems without a plan. Plans require decisions. Never-ending decisions (choices) in the health journey. Clinicians, researchers, and insurance companies study and use Clinical Decision Support (CDS) to help with the decision-making process. It’s a shortcut for using research (evidence) in the decision-making. Some talk about patient-centered decision support (see a definition at the bottom of this post). They’re trying to figure out how to help people to make decisions in two minutes of ten-minute visits. Yet, few patients or caregivers I’ve met ever talk about CDS. So how can people understand the value and limitations of CDS? Read More
I am on a health journey, trying to meet my health goals with the support of a care team. Who’s doing what? When are they doing it? That’s my plan of care for me.
Most people don’t normally think in terms of a plan of care for themselves. Let’s peek into their minds:
Plan of Care – What’s Going on in Their Minds?
Patient: What’s wrong with me? Should I tell the doctor? What does she want me to do? Can I afford it? Does it (will it) hurt? Can I (will I) still be able to take care of my family (go to work, go out, have fun)? What happens next? How’m I doing now? Did the med (the procedure, the diet…) work? Did it help me? What should I worry about? What should I do if it happens (again)?
Clinician: What’s on his mind? What’s wrong with him? What should I do next? What did I prescribe before? Did he do it, did he take it? Will he tell me the truth? If he did it, did it work? What do the tests tell me? What should I prescribe next? What are other doctors doing (ordering)? Has he been to the hospital since I saw him last?
Questions, questions, questions. So many bumps in the road and detours in the health journey. Few maps, spotty GPS at best. Read More
I have secondary progressive multiple sclerosis. Today, I have a primary care physician in one health system, and four specialists in three other health systems (each has unique ownership, medical record, and patient portal). I use two retail pharmacies, one specialty pharmacy, and three lab services. I also see an acupuncturist, chiropractor, physical therapist, and massage therapist. I use two durable medical equipment companies. These services almost exclusively communicate through me (or fax – my grandsons don’t know what a fax is). My personal team is my wife, two adult sons, their spouses, and a sister. I have to give them my sign in and password to access the portals. I use a spreadsheet, and three apps to track stuff. I don’t have the patience for the work of building my personal health record in an app. I have no idea what happens to my data in PatientsLikeMe and other businesses. I’d like to give authorization when I think it’s right and track who’s using what, but I can’t. I’m doing OK, thanks for asking. Read More
The metaphor, Personal Health Journey, works for me. We’re heading somewhere for health whether on purpose or not. We’re never actually there. It’s continual – until it isn’t. Sometimes we have a map, sometimes we don’t. Map or not, we’re still heading somewhere: work, the grocery store, our in-laws, the beach. There’s always decisions to make on a journey: stop for gas, rest, sight see, go left, go right? Same with the health journey.
The journey is different if we’re well, acutely ill, chronically ill or dying. Our aspirations are different. When we’re well we either don’t think about our health or we want to stay well. When we’re acutely ill (now we’re a patient), we want to get over it. When we’re chronically ill we want to live the best life possible. When we’re dying we want to live as long as possible or live as best as possible OR both. The journey is different, too. For the well it’s Inertia or Select Personal Health Goals-> Act and Track->Deal with symptoms when they arise. For the acutely ill it’s Symptom->Diagnosis->Treatment->Recovery->Back to Well or on to Chronically Ill (thanks to John Mitchell at Applied Marketing Science). For the chronically ill it’s Disbelief->Grief->Get help (care and treatment)->Recalibrate->Maintain->Give back->Relapse (and back again). Read More
I love hearing, That’s a great idea! I’ll try it. I’m delighted when I say it. This week my chiropractor said, You need more hydration, try drinking one more glass of water this week, and two more next week. I’m tickled when I counsel someone and they say Great idea, I’ll try it, as happened this week. I spoke with a friend with a rare disease in a new community, Maybe you could focus next on building a new care team, Those are making a difference of one.
There’s another thrill to being a good leader and making a difference for a team: Family first. What do you need to get the job done? What do you recommend? We’ve got to have fun doing this. Some make a difference for communities, nations, the world with products and policy. For example, Obamacare provided health insurance for 20 million people; the Internet allowed virtual supportive communities to form. And there’s in between, as when a client says That’s a great idea to my proposal, we could use this platform to promote caregivers’ coaching each other and the caregivers could earn some money at it? Read More
I crave connection and respect. Not crave as a thirsty man crawling toward a mirage of water in the desert or a person constantly begging others to fill an overwhelming desire that can never be filled. Rather a need that sustains me and renews me. Connection and respect fuel my inner fire so I can meet the challenges of life, continue to contribute, and have space to be curious. It helps that I’m an extrovert. Connection and respect don’t cost much day-to-day, yet they’re long term commitments and investments. Connection and respect can be tough to sustain. I get crabby and self-centered, especially when I or someone I care for is sick or stressed. Then being an extrovert doesn’t help. Yet banking the investment of connection and respect pays dividends.
I’m impressed with how difficult it is to ask for help. We have as much difficulty responding to offers to help as asking for help. When our boy, Mike, was dying, people came out of the woodwork, offering to help. How to respond? How awkward! We had to add it to our weekly family care management meetings. What do we need? What do we say? Well, we didn’t think we needed much that those offering help could do. So we said that we needed food, companionship, transportation. We always needed a laugh and prayers. Caring helped. Read More
I’m not a complainer or worrier-at least not often or for long. Comparatively, I have little to complain or worry about. Yet, this week I struggle with pneumonia, try to regain strength, not hurt myself coughing and not being a jerk or a burden. I’m also turning 65 and enrolling in Medicare. I keep dwelling on the amount of effort it takes to be or support someone who is sick. What is that effort? I’ve come up with six questions anyone who is worrying asks themselves. You’ll see in the pie chart below that I’ve arbitrarily assigned a percentage to how much I think most people worry about each question. (No science here, no evidence, just my thoughts)
Who benefits from the murkiness of finding the prices of prescription drugs? Clearly not patients and caregivers.
Today, I’m taking two potentially lifesaving drugs – azithromycin and rituximab.
According to GoodRx.com, azithromycin, prescribed for my pneumonia, has a cash price of $35 with a $10 copay cost to me. Took me 10 seconds to find this.
I’ve spent more than four hours and I still don’t know how much the rituximab, a chemotherapy infusion for my multiple sclerosis, costs or will cost me. I’m turning 65 next week and I need to select a Medicare Advantage Plan. I spoke with several insurance companies. None can (or will) tell me the cost of Rituximab to them or to me. They differ whether it’s a formulary drug (covered at all). They differ whether they consider it a drug covered under Medicare Part D (see below) or an infusion, covered under Medicare Part B. If Part B it may be included in my premium.
If I was queen for a day, with a genie, and a clean slate…
The practice management staff of XYZ clinic routinely runs a program of all their patients’ data to predict those at risk for needing urgent care or hospitalization. The practice contacts Alice (one of many such patients or caregivers) pointing them to their practice portal or speaks with her on the phone with the module open to them. A module in the portal or caller from the practice asks Alice to confirm the accuracy of the data and allows or asks her to correct or fill in information used in the screening program. Alice can type or speak her responses. The module or caller asks questions about the current status of her treatment plan (activity, diet, meds, appointments, etc.), her current abilities and symptoms, and asks her if she has questions. Depending on the answers, Alice may be instructed to go to an Emergency Room. If she needs Urgent Care, another module opens up to a clinician immediately available by video who has access to the same data as Alice and her answers to the clarifying questions. They discuss her status, make decisions, order tests and meds as needed and update her treatment plan. If she needs neither emergent or urgent care, her next appointment at the clinic is confirmed or scheduled and Alice is reminded of her treatment plan and schedule and pointed to activities and community resources that may be of value in the meantime. When Alice arrives at the clinic, her clinician views the entries in the portal module with her and they discuss her status, make decisions, and update her treatment plan. For any of the scenarios, Alice’s questions are answered live or via the portal. Costs and out-of-pocket expenses are included. Read More