Today I had lunch with a very nice medical subspecialist who is in the the first year of setting up his
independent practice, having practiced privately for five years in the Midwest out of fellowship, and then with an integrated group here in
Northern California. Naturally, I asked him why he was going into
independent practice. He said that he had a streak of
entrepreneurialism in him, and that he didn't want to answer to a
boss. Good reasons. His colleagues around the hospital here have
been telling him he's crazy, that he'll never make it, that he should
rejoin a network. I told him they were the ones who were nuts. If
he has a vision, ambition, energy, and intelligence, and some good
luck, even though he doesn't yet quite know what he's doing, he'll do
very well, very well indeed. There will be a place for an sbuspecialt center of excellence. There is always room at the
top.
During the conversation he talked a
little about what it was like to work in the network, by way of
explanation of why he wanted to be independent. He said that the large group
established smaller groups of five or six doctors in each locality and put
one of them in charge, not particularly because that doctor was the
best or chosen by peers, just appointed by administration to be in charge. His local chief reviewed charts
and told him that his charts needed to be better. He thought, what
about yours? Are yours any better? Where do you get off?
I told him that that was why I had been
independent. I didn't want to answer to someone who wasn't as smart
as I was. Plus, of course, I'm entrepreneurial, too.
But here was the story that struck me
most. When he arrived, he was warmly welcomed and was given a medical
assistant whom he trained over a six month period. They became a
well-oiled team. Then, one day, she didn't show up for work. Where
was she? The administration said they couldn't call her for
five days. Five days? Labor law? What was that about? They didn't
tell him anything.
Then, she didn't show up for three
weeks. Still, they didn't tell him anything, they just gave him
“floater” replacements, medical assistants untrained for the
specific job. The administration knew what was happening, but they
didn't tell the most involved and affected person in the
organization, him. She wasn't going to come back for months. “What
am I going to do?” he asked. The answer was, live with the floater
replacements.
Eventually it turned out that his MA
had entered rehab for a meth problem. She came back eventually, but
meth addicts don't really come back, and they didn't give him a real
replacement. He was screwed.
What the administration should have
done, of course, was closed ranks with him, their teammate,
leveled with him about what was happening, and faced the problem and
solved the problem together. They would have become closer for the
experience, more trusting of each other. Instead,
inexpertly, they allowed a crisis to open a gulf within the group,
and eventually this led to their losing their subspecialist.
Corporatization doesn't have to be this
way, with administration appointing leaders without consultation,
with those leaders not knowing how to lead and how to form a team, and with
administration not knowing how to work as a team when faced with
obstacles. I wasn't surprised to hear about this event, but it was
still dispiriting. It seemed like object lessons in poor corporate
behavior. It's not inevitably this way.
Except that, it is. Yes, good
organizations can exist and do exist, but mostly, these examples I heard about today are pretty much the norm, as far as I can see.
Good and capable and informed and creative and well functioning and
capable organizations exist, but they are the exception. And here we
are in medicine, corporatizing like crazy, so that's pretty much all
we'll see pretty soon.
It's really such a shame.
Budd Shenkin
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