You can't beat magazine advice columns for quick, authoritative responses to life's many problems. On the issue of patient safety, I've tucked at the back of my mind this little gem regarding infections acquired at hospitals, clinics and such: Before they examine you, it said, ask your nurse or doctor if they have washed their hands.
Politely, I would imagine. I'm yet to screw up the courage to interrogate my doctor about his hand-washing habits. Besides, studies have established that germs are pretty good at hitching rides on lab coats, scrubs and even neckties, knowledge that leads me to suspect that once we start asking about hand scrubbing, we might have to demand proof of good laundry habits as well. A patient can't be too careful, you know.
While I work on my anti-germ checklist, I have settled for passable penmanship. Really. I can't wait for every doctor in the land to go digital — at least, when it comes to writing lab orders, prescriptions and instructions.
I've had a run of very good doctors over the years — good listeners, knowledgeable, informative, easy to talk to, excellent bedside manners. And except for ''The Pilot,'' who preferred to stand just inside the room and check questions off a clipboard as if doing a preflight rundown, they manage to look unhurried in an age of the 15-minute slot. It's relationships like that that make people see red when they think some government regulation will muck up a relationship that works. So I'm all for government stepping up if only to neutralize the potential harm from strikingly awful handwriting.
It's trouble when a lab technician holding a test order asks what the doctor wrote. Well, I know what he said — which is not to say that's what he wrote. Head scratching leads to a phone call to the doctor's office, a lengthy wait on hold and, finally, the aha! of scribbles deciphered.
The other day I stopped by a pharmacy, a handwritten prescription in hand. The pharmacist studied the paper. He fingered it, and studied it some more. He checked something on his computer and looked at the prescription again.
Was the prescription too old? I had been holding on to it for a few weeks, but after several sleepness nights, I concluded there was no virtue in saying no to certain drugs. Should I get a fresher prescription?
No, not all. He just couldn't make out the details of the prescription. He would have to call the doctor, he said. It was a weekend, which meant a couple of days waiting for clarification. He was apologetic about all that.
No big deal; I'd rather get the right medication. But then arise all those what-ifs for patient safety. What if the lab technician or the pharmacist had been less than professional and decided to guess at rather call the source for clarification? A wrong guess, and a patient could be in serious trouble.
What if the doctor's office was not easily reachable by phone, fax or whatever? What if a prescription, test order or medical instructions were related to an emergency and delay would be harmful?
There's an old joke about medical schools teaching lousy handwriting as a secret code for initiates. It is no laughing matter, though, to be at the receiving end of an indecipherable note. I don't know if medical programs offer classes in remedial penmanship.
What percentage of medical errors can be attributed to unreadable scribbling? I am not sure. The potential for harm from ''chicken scratches'' is high enough, though, to be one of the reasons drving the push for electronic medical records.
The federal stimulus package in 2009 included nearly $20 billion to assist physicians to adopt and use health-record technologies, among them electronic prescribing. The Centers for Medicare and Medicaid pays incentive bonuses to doctors who switch to e-prescribing. In 2012, the federal agency will begin penalizing the stragglers. The incentives seem to be working. An industry survey found the number of e-prescribers has increased from 74,000 in 2008 to 234,000 last year.
The thing is, there are about half a million doctors in the country, and quite a few are yet to retire their pens and scribbling pads. As more of them switch over, the warning is that typing and clicking errors will replace errors from bad handwriting — with equally unpleasant results for patient safety. All the same, it may take a lot less courage to ask, ''How's your typing, Doc?'' than ''Has that necktie seen soap and water this year, Doc?''
Ofobike is the Beacon Journal chief editorial writer. She can be reached at 330-996-3513 or by e-mail at lofobike@thebeaconjournal.com
