Tuesday, June 7, 2005
Neal Peirce / Syndicated columnist
Patient-based health care: What a revolutionary idea
DERBY, Conn. — From Main Street merchants to U.S. senators,
health care and its ballooning costs qualify as the new century's
worst fiscal migraine. Now the problem is hitting not just government
and employer budgets, but millions of people forced into big co-payments
or unable to get coverage at all.
Many say the
system can't be fixed — that too many entrenched interests
stand in the way.
But check
around America and some islands of intriguing innovation show
up.
Take the nonprofit,
160-bed Griffin Hospital in a middle-class neighborhood 12 miles
west of New Haven. The culture shock starts when you drive up
and note there's free valet parking for patients.
But walk in
the door and your amazement just keeps growing. In place of the
familiar white plaster or steel that marks most hospitals, one
immediately encounters lots of warm wood colors and carpeted floors
— which continue throughout the building. Lighting is indirect
— no cold fluorescents. Art is visible almost everywhere.
Conciergelike volunteers greet patients in the lobby and escort
them to service departments.
In the wards,
pianists often provide soothing concerts. Rooms are the opposite
of institutional: more like a bedroom at home. Instead of the
standard nurses' fortresslike areas at the center of long corridors,
there's a decentralized nursing station for every four to six
beds. And every hospital bed has a line of sight to the responsible
nurse. Scary medical equipment is kept in back corridors.
The central
philosophy is strikingly simple. This hospital isn't run for the
convenience of its doctors — however technically proficient
or diagnostically brilliant they may be. Nor is it run to simplify
the tasks of nurses, technicians, clerks or cooks, or to make
life easy for management. Instead, it's all about the patient
— to provide each with a personalized, humanized, demystified
hospital experience.
Where's Raspberry?
William Raspberry is on vacation. His column will resume on his
return.
Accordingly, there are no set visiting hours — family and
friends are welcome 24 hours a day, with several hotel-quality
rooms in which families can sleep over, even prepare meals. Several
"care partner" rooms have space for family members to
stay with the patient, using couches that fold out to double beds.
The smell of muffins baked by volunteers wafts through the hallways.
Equally important,
Griffin's patients are empowered. They take part in the conference
on their diagnosis and treatment that is held shortly after admittance
with attending physicians, their primary-care nurse (who's assigned
them for their entire stay) and their family. Patients are kept
in the loop on their treatment; a sign in each room urges them
to read their medical chart.
Doesn't all
this drive costs through the roof? No, I heard from Patrick Charmel,
Griffin's president/CEO, and Bill Powanda, its vice president
and a former Connecticut state senator. Designing a hospital for
an informed healing experience rather than a treatment factory,
they asserted, reduces error rates, avoids unnecessary treatments
and medications, and minimizes peril of malpractice suits.
One result:
Griffin is the only hospital that Fortune magazine has recognized
as one of the "100 Best Companies to Work for in America"
for six consecutive years.
Another result:
More than 500 U.S. hospitals have sent teams to see the Griffin
model firsthand. So many come that there is now a $3,000 fee for
each tour and briefing.
Indeed, an
actual mechanism now exists for hospitals to become co-enablers
of Griffin's approach. It's called the Planetree Alliance, a collaborative
for patient-centered care, which Griffin took over in 1998. Close
to 100 hospitals have qualified, coached along by Griffin. Most
are smaller in size. With the exception of New York Presbyterian
Hospital, the nation's large teaching hospitals have resisted
— precisely, one would guess, because it's so tough for
institutions of their size and fame to break loose of the doctors-know-best,
hierarchical model.
But the future
may be different — a flowering of Griffinlike, consumer-oriented
approaches. As management consultants Ernst & Young define
it:
"The
trillion-dollar American health-care market is on the brink of
the biggest transformation yet. The primary force behind this
change is not technology or managed care but the growing mass
of educated and empowered consumers. 'Health care consumerism'
will alter how health-care organizations will operate, how they
compete and, perhaps, why they exist."
Neal Peirce's
column appears regularly on editorial pages of The Times. His
e-mail address is nrp@citistates.com
For
more information, please contact Lisa Donnarumma at ldonnarumma@planetree.org
or 203-732-1377.