Leave the Cave
I resolve to (really) learn how to use Epic. We implemented our new Epic electronic health record in 2011. I’m a big proponent, but also a Luddite. I tinker around the edges of what is a truly powerful tool in advancing clinical care. I resolve to move past casual to highly functional user.
Make “10” Perfect
I resolve to figure out this new ICD-10 system. OK, technically it’s not “new.” It’s been complete since 1992 and in use in many countries for the better part of a decade. This is not a simple update of the ICD-9 system; rather, this is an entire overhaul that adds two more digits to the system. This takes the number of possible codes from 13,000 (ICD-9) to 68,000 (ICD-10). This allows for much more specificity and laterality—that is, you could have cellulitis of the right or left foot.
These changes are more than just job security for coders. The issue monetizes as payors decide not to pay for readmissions. Consider a patient who had a right-foot cellulitis, only to be admitted two weeks later with a left-foot cellulitis. ICD-9 does not have laterality, such that both stays would have the same code and the second admit could be denied as a 30-day readmission.
Twitter With Excitement
I resolve to figure out social media. I must admit that this is a red-alert, high-risk-of-failure resolution, partly because I don’t Facebook, tweet, or blog; heck, I’m not even LinkedIn! Additionally, I don’t have any friends. And finally, I just don’t get it. Then again, I didn’t get “The Simpsons” when they first came out. D’oh!
Get Hipper
And I resolve to re-enter the pop culture world in general. My social and cultural life came to a screeching halt near midnight on Sept. 29, 2007: One moment I was innocently watching the Colorado Rockies battle into their first playoffs in 12 years, and the next I was blasted onto a four-year hyper-blur of crying, spoon-feeding, and diaper-changing—for the non-parent readers, I’m describing child-rearing, not residency training, which is admittedly often marked by these same mileposts. Now 4 and 2 years old, my kiddos have finally reached the stages of self-care that allow for my gradual re-entry into the outside world.
As such, I resolve to go to a movie (in the theater) again. The last two movies we saw in the theatre in 2007 were chosen by my pregnant wife and contained an uncomfortable subliminal theme—Knocked Up (pregnant woman hates impregnating sloth of a man), Juno (pregnant woman has love-hate relationship with pasty, impregnating nerd in tight gym shorts).
I’m also interested to see what’s on TV and on the radio. When I last turned off the cathodes, “Lost” was big; ditto “The Sopranos.” And in a clearly ill-fated second season, “Dancing with the Stars” was well on its way to its undeniable cancellation. Musically, Britney was shaving her head and Jordin Sparks was edging out Sanjaya’s faux-hawk on “Idol.”
I’m also looking forward to learning what a Kardashian is (a sweater?), explaining the strange pull toward vampire romances, and discovering the difference between a Pippa and a Snooki. Should be fun. I just hope I don’t catch “Bieber Fever.”
Aspire To “Be The Cup”
Finally, in 2012, I resolve to live up to the coffee cup—you know, the Father’s Day 2011 gift emblazoned with “World’s Best Dad.” I’m sure you all feel this in your own way—that constant tension between work and life. In 2011, work won a few too many of the tug-o’-wars. Too many missed gymnastics lessons, soccer practices, parent events at daycare, and late dinners. 2012 will be different.