THE
REAL-LIFE EDUCATION OF A HEALTH-CARE REPORTER
BY
MADGE KAPLAN
We're
airborne and en route to Atlanta, to a conference for health-care
journalists. My colleague points out a piece in Time about
a geriatric care manager who can be hired for $75 to $125 an hour.
"Oh" I say, "we could never afford that." She looks puzzled: "Huh?"
she says. "I thought this might be useful for your workshop,"
a panel I would be moderating about the health professions. "Of
course," I say. "Sure." But I have to laugh. I had been thinking
about my dad.
The
panel went fine, but lately, all my work is subject to distraction.
In 1998, my father suffered a stroke. He now must lean on his
family, just as surely as he must lean on canes and walkers, to
navigate and negotiate new kinds of services. And I had no idea
how all-consuming being a family caregiver -- even a long-distance
caregiver -- would be.
Two
and a half years ago, when this family medical ride began, I imagined
I was a lot more powerful. Not only that -- and here comes the
confession -- I felt a rush of excitement, once my father was
out of danger. He was in an acute-care hospital, the prime locus
of our country's experiment with managed care. I'd get a ringside
seat. I would "learn" new things while negotiating with providers.
And oh, the story ideas I would accumulate along the way!
I
have story ideas all right. But they are not the ones I expected.
They often come to me in the middle of a sleepless night. What
I have discovered is this: there is a kind of theoretical knowledge
of the health-care system and a way of viewing it from on high.
And then there's the kind that presents itself much more slowly
in the throes of trying to deal with the system, in real time.
I
fear that health journalists may be increasingly tempted to soar
above the messy stuff, especially when we have new discoveries
in medical science to keep us aloft. But down here in the trenches,
whenever I speak to anyone who's had recent high-intensity involvement
with health care, I find they have stories that equal or surpass
mine. So, despite my exhaustion and occasional disillusionment,
I'm mapping out some new lines of inquiry.
They're
rather like small thorns, I hope, in the side of an increasingly
powerful medical p.r. industry that will one day dictate the health-care
beat unless we journalists keep insisting upon our own mission.
Here are some observations I hope to turn into solid reporting:
*
Greater consumer knowledge is not really welcomed by the nation's
hospitals. Yes, there are exceptions. But the typical acute-care
hospital today cannot seem to function with patient or family
member as informed consumer. The term sounds nice but it doesn't
fit anywhere in our beleaguered system. If you press hard enough,
you're included and listened to -- begrudgingly -- and dubbed
a troublemaker, not a partner. Why are hospitals such laggards
in this respect?
*
Doctors still don't get it. This complaint is hardly a new one,
but almost no one seems to be telling them that paying closer
attention to informed patients and relatives is not only more
humane, but also a way to sharpen diagnoses and reduce errors.
*
Because our society hates the idea of growing older, we'd rather
talk about prescription drug coverage for seniors than custodial
care. Affordable medicine is important, but we are about to need
an army of trained workers to care for aging Americans trying
to get along at home. The lack of qualified attendants and aides
to help with bathing, meals, and so forth, along with the absence
of affordable insurance coverage for these services, is about
to take on crisis proportions.
*
Family caregivers are not all alike. Some people aren't up to
the task emotionally or physically: they lack the skills to care
for a frail person at home or to run interference with the health-care
system; not everyone can adjust their lives to assume this added
responsibility. So the idea of tax credits to help live-in family
caregivers may be too limited. Who's paying attention to the actual
needs and circumstances of today's family caregivers?
*
Talk of administrative simplification in health care is fashionable,
but talk is as far as it goes. Medicare actually has claim forms
that state across the top: Denial Purposes Only. To get a supplemental
insurer to pay up, one has to go through months of paperwork,
filing for something both parties -- Medicare and patient -- already
know will be denied! This madness is only the tip of an iceberg
that the press must bring to the surface.
My
personal experiences have given me as a journalist a deeper appreciation
of the everyday problems of our health-care system. With all the
change we hear about, it's been radicalizing to discover how much
things have stayed the same. That insight alone is worthy of exploration
on the health-care beat.