Much has been recently made about the bureaucratic obstacles that primary care doctors face. With good reason. The impetus was a recent New England Journal of Medicine paper from Richard J. Baron that I mentioned recently.
The New York Times’ Pauline Chen interviewed Dr. Baron, who shared some interesting insights on what needs to be done. He contrasts the inertia in primary care to drug manufacturing.
If you took the resources that went into drug development, for instance, “and put them into a program like this that achieves meaningful levels of behavior change, a lot more patients could be better off.” In other words, research into new primary care models isn’t taking off because the money isn’t there.
But Dr. Baron also notes that money isn’t everything, since “primary care practitioners have been saying that we either already do or would do certain things if you paid us more. It’s true that you can’t do things consistently, reliably and across scales without additional payment. But payment is not enough. People have to change what they are thinking about when they go to work.” Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at KevinMD.com*
In medicine, hardly a week passes without the introduction of some new acronym, previously unspoken in the average practice, which then grows to prominence — take HIPAA, PECOS, CPT, ICD, etc. — the list goes on and on.
I believe that after 14 years of practice I’ve earned the right to introduce an acronym of my own: CRAPP. For the last several months, my partner and I have used this term to describe the volumes of denials, pre- and prior- authorizations (is there really a difference?), and faxes that seem to grow like weeds on the fertile planting grounds of our desks.
More specifically, in our office the acronym CRAPP stands for: Continuous Restrictive And Punitive Paperwork. To put it blithely, CRAPP could represent any document you wish someone had put on your partner’s desk instead of yours.
On a more emotional level, this acronym captures the visceral response I have whenever my attention is drawn away from my patients and redirected towards some nonsensical busywork — much like someone yelling at a golfer during their backswing.
Read more »