Photo: Joshua Lutz
|
PATIENT BEWARE: Cheryl Conrad [right] makes sure she always
keeps a copy of husband Tom’s medical records on
hand, after he experienced an excruciating delay
in getting treated at a local hospital.
|
Cheryl Conrad seethed with frustration. It was now 8
hours since she had found her husband, Tom, passed out
on the floor. Now, in the hospital, he was slipping into
a coma. Tom suffers from a rare genetic condition that
causes deadly ammonia to build up in his bloodstream.
Cheryl knew just what was wrong and what her husband
needed: a massive dose of lactulose, a drug that would
reduce the ammonia in Tom’s blood. But the emergency
room doctors wouldn’t listen. Only months earlier Tom
had been treated there for a similar episode, but nobody
could locate the medical records detailing his
condition. Instead, the ER staff insisted on contacting
the specialist who had been treating Tom’s illness. But
the doctor couldn’t be reached.
It took another 2 hours before they got through to
Tom’s doctor, who immediately prescribed lactulose.
After two days of treatment, Tom was released from
intensive care. Galvanized by the experience, Cheryl
resolved to keep a paper copy of Tom’s medical records
with her at all times [see photo, “Patient Beware,” right].
Though the patients, maladies, and medications vary,
this wrenching scenario plays itself out in one form or
another every day in countless hospitals around the
globe. And it is completely unnecessary. Decades after
virtually every significant enterprise in the developed
world turned to computers to keep records, computers
still remain astonishingly underutilized in medicine,
their use suppressed by financial, sociological, and
political issues—and the sheer complexity of the
automation challenge.
With your medical records in paper form and scattered
across the offices of various practitioners, the people
treating you when you need those records most—when
you’re lying on a gurney in the emergency room, say—may
have no idea what to do. Sometimes they do the wrong
thing: in the United States alone, an estimated 98 000
deaths occur annually from medical mistakes, and 1.5
million people suffer from adverse drug interactions,
incorrect doses, and other medication errors. Many of
these deaths and injuries could be avoided if the full
medical records of patients were available to their
treating physicians.
After a history of false starts, a comprehensive
system of electronic health records linking hospitals,
general practitioners, specialists, insurance offices,
and others could debut in the United States within a
decade. Other countries, including Australia, Canada,
Denmark, Finland, Germany, and the United Kingdom, have
also announced national programs to automate medical
records [see table, “Major
Players”]. Of these, Finland is likely to be
first, with a planned launch by the end of next year.
Meanwhile, the UK has been struggling to roll out its
digital health record system for more than four years,
with little to show for its efforts.
The U.S. endeavor is primarily a private-sector effort
that has the support of and some funding from the
federal government. It will replace paper-based files
with a digital record containing your complete medical
history, which your health care provider will be able to
access almost instantaneously wherever you seek
treatment. The National Health Information Network, as
it’s called, will consist not of one centralized system
but of a large number of independently managed regional
networks, somewhat comparable to the Internet itself.
The potential advantages are enormous: having a
cradle-to-grave view of a patient will allow doctors to
focus on preventive care, rather than just treating
diseases. For employers, insurance companies, and the
government, electronic medical records promise to help
reduce skyrocketing health care costs, which now come to
US $1.9 trillion, or about 16 percent of gross domestic product.
In the long term, such a system would also make it
easier to do epidemiological studies, to discover which
treatments and medications work and which do not. And it
would offer the means to conduct surveillance for
pandemics and biological terrorist attacks. For all
these reasons, President George W. Bush called for the
creation of a nationwide system in his 2004 State of the
Union address, setting an ambitious goal of creating
electronic health records for most Americans by the year 2014.
To date, though, no country has ever built a fully
operational electronic health record system, and the
hurdles to doing so are huge. One recent study placed
the projected cost for a U.S. system at $276
billion—more than three times what’s been spent on
creating a missile defense system over the past 20
years.
The many technical, social, and political issues are
also formidable. How will the hundreds of thousands of
electronic medical record systems interconnect, and how
will they exchange data? How will the privacy and
security of hundreds of millions of personal files be
maintained? Who will pay? And the biggest question of
all: Will it work? Given the far-reaching impact such a
system would have on the well-being of every citizen, it
will be a profound failure if it does not.
Unfortunately, signs already suggest that the U.S.
effort will be more complicated, more expensive, and
much lengthier than is now officially projected. To
understand why, let’s look at recent history and some
smaller-scale efforts to digitize medical records—the
successes as well as the missteps.
Since the 1960s, universities, hospitals, health care
providers, and medical software developers have tried to
computerize patient medical records. Most of these
efforts ended badly. Information technology was still
too immature and the costs too prohibitive to make real progress.
Even today, there are few health care IT systems that
work as efficiently and as effectively as intended. One
happy exception is at the Mayo Clinic, in Rochester,
Minn. Nearly a hundred years ago, the clinic was the
birthplace of the paper-based medical record, which at
the time revolutionized medicine. Back then, Henry
Plummer, a partner at the clinic, recognized that having
doctors record information in ledgers, organized by date
rather than patient, made it almost impossible to
appreciate a patient’s full medical history.
So he developed a “patient dossier” system, in which
each doctor would enter all aspects of a patient’s visit
in a single, comprehensive file that was forever linked
to the patient through a unique registration number. The
file was stored in a central repository, and if the
patient returned, even years later, the file could be retrieved.
In 1993, the Rochester clinic embarked on fully
automating Plummer’s ideas. The effort included a $16
million upgrade to its fiber-optic network and the
installation of 16 000 client-server workstations, a
central database, and software from GE Healthcare, as
well as code written in-house. The clinic’s electronic
medical record system became fully operational in 2004,
giving Mayo one of the most comprehensive completely
paperless medical record systems of any hospital in the
United States. According to David Mohr, chair of the
clinic’s information management and technology
committee, the Rochester site now relies on the system
to support its 1.5 million outpatient visits and 60 000
hospital admissions every year [see photos, “Mayo’s Way”].
Each new patient at Mayo is assigned an initial
electronic medical record that is created using a unique
registration number (just as in Plummer’s day). Once you
arrive for treatment, your record is called up from the
central database, and during and after the visit, your
doctor enters notes and other information into that
record. Test results are automatically added to your
record, and prescriptions are automatically sent to the
clinic’s pharmacy, which checks for drug interactions
and allergies. The electronic record is also used to
schedule additional visits, generate your bill, and
handle other administrative tasks.
Mayo won’t say exactly how much it spent, but I
estimate that the Rochester facility’s system cost
around $80 million over 10 years. What does the clinic
get in return? Cost savings of about $35 million to $40
million annually, primarily from the elimination of
administrative overhead such as record-keeping staff,
and other benefits including improved quality of care.
It has certainly not been an easy path, however. Just
figuring out how to integrate the many types of
information that could be included in a patient’s
record—doctor’s notes, test results, billing data—not to
mention the dozens of sources of information, was an
enormous challenge. And it was vital to get
everyone—all 17 000 clinicians at Rochester who would
have to use the system—to give up their old routines and
adopt new ways.
Mohr says the clinic looks forward to the eventual
establishment of the National Health Information Network
and to the day when its record system will be able to
connect to other doctor’s offices and hospitals around
the country. But to date it hasn’t tried to do so. In
fact, it hasn’t even made the record systems at Mayo’s
three facilities—in Rochester; Jacksonville, Fla.; and
Scottsdale, Ariz.—interoperable, although doctors can
view patient records at another location onscreen. Until
standards for digitizing and interconnecting patient
records have been set, Mohr says, it makes no sense to
invest in software and hardware that may quickly become
obsolete.
To be sure, Mayo’s system isn’t the only successful
effort to automate health care records. The U.S.
Department of Veterans Affairs has run a well-regarded
medical record system since the mid-1990s. And perhaps
the largest to date is the U.S. Department of Defense’s
system, which by the end of this year will support
9.2 million active-duty and retired U.S. military
personnel and their dependents around the world [see the
sidebar, “” which accompanies this article online].