September 25th, 2009 by Happy Hospitalist in Better Health Network, Humor, Opinion
No Comments »
Over the last several weeks I have received numerous emails dictating the enforcement of work place rules regarding eating and drinking in nursing areas and other areas with patient charts. It seems everyone, from the Chief of Staff to the CEO to the Head Nurse In Charge has been making it very clear that drinking in work areas won’t be tolerated. I have at times been confronted by dutiful staff doing their jobs with a robust sense of confidence to enforce this potentially dangerous patient safety issue.
Or so I thought. Whilst speaking with one of Happy’s friendly colleagues, I learned that the issue of food and drink in the work place has nothing to do with patient safety. Like my colleague stated so eloquently, if there is data that can be presented to me that shows my action of drinking coffee at the work stations would some how harm my patient, I will gladly stop immediately. Discussion finished.
But as I learned from my colleague, the issue of food and drink at the nurse’s station or anywhere near patient charts has nothing to do with patient safety. In fact, the regulations are in place to protect ME from myself.
That’s right, the coffee Nazis are cruising the halls with reckless abandonment searching for violators of the hospital wide coffee ban on rounds not because patients could be harmed, but because I could harm myself.
You see, it turns out my distinguished colleague was told these regulations were not CMS or JCAHO regulations, but rather OSHA regulations.
So I looked it up
“OSHA does not have a general prohibition against the consumption of beverages at hospital nursing stations. However, OSHA’s bloodborne pathogens standard prohibits the consumption of food and drink in areas in which work involving exposure or potential exposure to blood or other potentially infectious material takes place, or where the potential for contamination of work surfaces exists 29 CFR 1910.1030(d)(2)(ix). Also, under 29 CFR 1910.141(g)(2), employees shall not be allowed to consume food or beverages in any area exposed to a toxic material. While you state that beverages at the nursing station might have a lid or cover, the container may also become contaminated, resulting in unsuspected contamination of the hands.
Here are the actual OSHA regulations
1910.1030(d)(2)(ix)
Eating, drinking, smoking, applying cosmetics or lip balm, and handling contact lenses are prohibited in work areas where there is a reasonable likelihood of occupational exposure.
1910.141(g)(2)
Eating and drinking areas. No employee shall be allowed to consume food or beverages in a toilet room nor in any area exposed to a toxic material.
In other words this is not a patient safety issue, but rather an employee safety issue. The Joint Commission has no specific standard on the issue other than for hospitals to comply with OSHA regulations.
So with that in mind, I have two comments regarding the issue:
- As a private practice physician who is not employed by the hospital, I would suggest that these OSHA rules do not apply to me and therefore the hospital risks no retribution for noncompliance from the accreditation arm of the Joint Commission, which is why I suspect the issue comes center stage for hospitals everywhere. If necessary, I will gladly sign a waiver to relinquish my rights to compensation should I ever contract a blood born pathogen or other communicable disease from drinking my coffee.
- If the hospital believes this is a patient safety issue and wishes to make their regulations stronger than those of OSHA and apply them to ALL people in areas with patient pathogens, I will gladly relinquish my daily fluids when I am shown the data regarding patient harm AND the hospital also bans all patient guests from bringing food or drink into the patient’s room. If this is a patient safety issue, it must apply to everyone should they wish to make their rules stronger than OSHA guidelines.
Until this is resolved with rational thought, perhaps over a round of coffee, I’m going to carry one of these around:
It always seems to work for patients.
*This blog post was originally published at A Happy Hospitalist*
August 6th, 2009 by GruntDoc in Better Health Network, Health Policy, Opinion
1 Comment »
The Happy Hospitalist, generally an excellent blogger, wrote yesterday about how salaried docs must be delivering better care than those greedy FFS docs, because the Cleveland Clinic does a terrific job with docs on a salary. I suspect their excellent outcomes have nothing to do with reimbursement model and a lot more to do with systems and a strong gatekeeper model.
He totally missed the elephant in the room in the Big Group Clinic model: who gets the money for doing the work.
He cites as an example a GI doc who left the Clinic for independent practice and quadrupled his income. Let’s say he’s working as hard as he did in the Clinic; is he billing more than the Clinic did? I doubt the Clinic wasn’t billing the usual amount for the work, so 3/4 of this docs’ billing went where?
I suspect it went into the overhead of the Clinic. This isn’t a knock on them, it works for their group, so fine. Other groups do essentially the same thing. It’s legal and morally defensible, and some docs don’t mind being salaried.
Salaried docs in a big Multispecialty Clinic have different incomes, but not as radically disparate as the non-clinic model. As a way to somewhat equalize RVRBS issues it works (I wouldn’t want to be in the room when salaries come up, though).
What salaries do not do is get docs to work harder, see more patients. Some docs are very dedicated, motivated people who would work for rent and grocery money. Others on a salary would do the minimum: if every patient is more work and more liability without more pay, well, why work more/harder? As an incentive to produce nothing beats getting paid for it.
(This isn’t an endorsement of excessive or un-necessary procedures; there are greedy jerks in all professions).
Also, a happy side effect of getting paid for what you do rather than for having a pulse is those who work hard resent those that don’t (but who would make the same on salary) a whole lot less. Way less inter-group stress.
Salaries aren’t all bad, but they’re not the Key to Great Healthcare.
Discolsure: I’ve worked ED’s both ways, and much prefer fee for service.
*This blog post was originally published at GruntDoc*
July 22nd, 2009 by Happy Hospitalist in Better Health Network, Health Policy, Primary Care Wednesdays
No Comments »
What does that mean? Well. It means everything. And it means nothing. It is the enormous universe of numbered codes (CPT) that every physician must grasp in order to get paid for services provided. In order to remain a viable business, physicians must learn how to code. And they must learn how to code well so they aren’t accused of fraud.
The current coding system is ridiculously difficult and vague. So difficult and vague that audits by the Medicare National Bank (MNB) often result in multiple different opinions by the MNB auditors themselves.
Coding is a system of confusion. I am here to say the coding system is insane. Current coding rules are used by all third parties to determine the economic value of your care. To determine how much your encounter with the patient is worth. Ultimately, the coding system has become the most important aspect of a physician’s professional life because coding determines revenue. And revenue determines the viability of the business model. And that ultimately determines how much you take home to feed your family. Dr Kevin blogged about that here.
So let the games begin. The current coding rules are a futile attempt to bring rings of value to medical service. Services which are so vastly different and unique for every patient. I will attempt to walk you through an example of the payment system, and how it relates to relative value units (RVUs) and ultimately how that affects physician payment.
The number of codes is massive. For all imaginable procedures, encounters, surgeries. Any possible health care interaction. Hospitalist medicine is limited in the types of codes we use. So I only have to remember a few.
95% of my billing is based on about twenty CPT codes:
3 Admit codes (99221,99222,99223)
3 follow up codes.(99231,99232,99233)
2 critical care codes (99291, 99292)
5 consult codes (99251-99255)
7 observation codes (99218-99220, 99234-99236, 99217)
2 Discharge codes (99238, 99239)
There are a few others, but these twenty-two codes determine my very financial existence. Medicare says so. Imagine a surgeon, a primary care doc, and a medical subspecialist. Every single interaction has a code. There are codes for codes, modifiers for codes, add on codes, disallowed codes, V codes, M codes. It seems as if the list is endless. And you have to get it right. Every time. Or you don’t get paid. Or you are accused of fraud. It is an impossible feat. The process of taking care of patients has turned into a game of documentation. And that has drastically affected the efficiency of the practice of medicine.
Let me walk you through a 99223, the code for the highest level admit for inpatient care. A level three. There is no actual law, as I understand it, on the Medicare books that definitely defines the requirement for these Evaluation and Management (E&M) codes. There are generally accepted guidelines which carriers are expected to follow. 1995 and 1997 guidelines. Even the guidelines from different years are different. And you are allowed to pick and chose from both. More silliness.
The following is my understanding of what Medicare requires in order to bill a level three admit, CPT code 99223. You must have every one of these components or it’s considered fraud, over-billing or waste. Pick your verbal poison.
1) History of Present Illness (HPI) : This requires four elements (character, onset, location, duration, what makes it better or worse, associated signs and symptoms) or the status of three chronic medical conditions.
2) Past Medical History (PMH): This requires a complete history of medical (medical problems, allergies, medications), family (what does your family suffer from), social (do you smoke or shoot up cocaine?) histories.
3) Review of Systems (ROS): A 12 point review of systems which asks you every possible question in the book. Separated by organ system.
4) Complete Physical Exam (PE): With components of all organ systems, the rules of which are highly complex in and of itself.
5) High Complexity Medical Decision-Making: This one is great. It is broken down into three areas and you must have 2 of 3 components as follows; Pull out your calculator.
5a) Diagnosis. Four points are required to get to high complexity. Each type of problem is defined by a point value (self limiting, established stable, established worsening, new problems with no work up planned and new problems with work up planned). You must know how many points each problem is worth. Count the number of problems. Add up the point value for each problem and you get your point value for Diagnosis (5a). You must have four points to be considered high complexity.
5b) Data. Four points are required for high complexity. Different data components are worth a different number of points. Data includes such things as reviewing or ordering lab, reviewing xrays or EKGs yourself, discussing things with other health care providers (which I have never been able to define), reviewing radiology or nuclear med studies, and obtaining old records etc. Each different data point documented (remember you have to write all this down too) is given a different point value. You must add up the points to determine your level of complexity. Get four points and you get high complexity for Data (5b).
5c) Concepts. I call this the basket. Predefined and sometimes vague medical processes that are defined as high risk. This includes such things as the need to closely monitor drug therapy for signs of toxicity ( I would include sliding scale insulin in this category), de-escalating care, progression or side effect of treatment, severe exacerbation with threat to life or limb, changes in neurological status, acute renal failure and cardiovascular imaging with identified risk factors. There are too many categories that are defined as a high risk concept. I cannot remember all of them. If you have a concept considered high risk, you get credit for high risk in the concepts category (5c)
Now remember, out of 5a, 5b, and 5c, you must meet high high complexity criteria on two out of three to be considered high risk. Did you remember to bring your calculator to work? And once you’ve calculated your high complexity category, don’t forget to write down all the components required from HPI, PMH, ROS, PE to not be accused of fraud.
Folks, this is what I have to document every time I admit a patient to the hospital in order to get paid and not be accused of fraud. This is what the government (and all other subsequent third party systems) have decided is necessary for me to treat you as a patient. This is what I must consider every time I take care of you.
I always find myself wondering if I wrote down that I personally reviewed that EKG. I wonder if I wrote down that your great great grand mother died of “heart problems”. I wonder if I remembered to write down all your pertinent positives on your review of systems and whether I documented the lack of positives in all other systems that were reviewed.
And remember each CPT code is given an RVU value, the value of which is determined by its own three components.
- The work RVU
- The practice expense RVU
- The malpractice expense RVU
Then the MNB multiplies your total RVU (add the three components above) and attached a geographical multiplier (you get more RVUs in NYC than in Montana).
Then, they take that number of RVUs and they multiply it by the Congressional mandated value of the RVU (currently about $35/RVU). That value is currently determined by the political whims of politicians and is controlled by the irrational sustainable growth formula (SGR). That is the formula that is overturned every year because of the irrational economics it employs.
And that’s how a physician is paid. This is what determines whether physicians survive in the business of medicine. And whether they have enough money to pay the electric bill, the accountant’s fees and the matching contribution to their nurse’s 401K.
Oh yeah. I almost forgot, I have to do all this while actually taking care of your medical problems based on sound scientific principles.
This is coding in a nutshell. A 99223. This is what I think about when I’m admitting you through the emergency room. This is E&M medicine. This is Medicare medicine. This is how your government has decided the practice of medicine should be. To get paid, I must document what Medicare says I must in order to care for you, the patient. It doesn’t matter what I think is important to write in the chart. What matters is what is required to get paid and not be accused of fraud.
Like I have said before, the medical chart has become nothing more than a giant invoice for third parties to assert a sense of control on their balance sheet. It doesn’t matter who that third party is. They are all the same.. I’m telling you, it’s nothing more than a really inefficient game of cat and mouse. It is a terribly inefficient and expensive way to practice medicine.
And I might remind you, the exercise above was an example of just one patient on one day. I do this upwards of fifteen times a day. Every day. Day after day. Year after year. Oh yeah, and the rules are different for inpatient followup codes, discharge codes, critical care codes, and observation/admit same day codes. They all have their different requirements. And I have to get it right for every single patient I see. Every day. Over 2500 times a year. With the expectation of 100% accuracy.
Why? You see, in the eyes of Medicare, you are a nothing more than a 99223.
*This blog post was originally published at A Happy Hospitalist*
It always seems to work for patients.
