Dr Perkins, can you come see this baby? Something about it just makes me feel uncomfortable.
I walk into the exam room to evaluate the week-and-a-half-old baby that was being seen by our new nurse practitioner. The child had a late morning appointment, the mother having called at 8 because the baby “wasn’t feeding.” No fevers, nothing else out of the ordinary per mom (although the baby did up having a fast heart rate). But as soon as I walked into the room, I quickly agreed with the nurse practitioner. The child was sent to the hospital for a “septic work-up” and was indeed septic.
Dr Perkins, I just don’t feel good. I have this chest pain when I go to sleep at night. Not during the day, mind you, only at night. That’s right, it hurts right there when you mash down.Why, yes, I have been getting a little short winded when I walk the golf course but isn’t that just weight gain?
Despite the reassurance that reproducible chest wall pain brings, based on reduced exercise tolerance we went ahead and obtained an EKG. To make a long story short, 3 vessel disease.
It was quite the Monday.
Despite running a busy department, I do a lot of clinical medicine. Trained in the underserved environment where I continue to practice today, I care for all ages, do some minor procedures, deliver babies (and now the babies of the babies I delivered). As my practice has aged with me, I see a lot more older than younger folks and find myself diagnosing more dementia and less strep throat the older I and my patients get.
Being comprehensive defines my specialty along with continuity, coordination, and first contact care. We preach to our learners the importance of these attributes, we test our graduates on the comprehensiveness of their knowledge, and we criticize ourselves for allowing our scope of practice to shrink. Now there is one more piece of evidence that should make us think twice about that cushy outpatient job ($50,000 signing bonus, no call, no hospital, 15 minutes to the beach). The Graham Center has authored a very elegant study that links scope of practice with actual practice. They found that doctors who were able to do more (were more comprehensive in their approach) had Medicare patients who were less likely to be hospitalized and who had better care-seeking behavior. By better, I mean that they cost the system about 15% less.
Not measured in this study were quality and patient satisfaction. This is important. As one of the commenters points out, sometimes comprehensiveness can be misused.
[F]or some populations with higher disease burden, high comprehensiveness (or scope, as we say) may be counterproductive. PCPs that maintain “too much” comprehensiveness for patients who need more contributions by other providers may be doing so because of lack of coordination with specialists, inadequate supply of alternative providers, an inability to recognize limitations, or resistance to “letting go”. Whatever the reason, the decreasing value of expanded scope in high risk individuals is a phenomena we have seen in numerous populations.
Despite these limitations, this is important. In the words of Kevin Grumbach (one of the smartest people I know) on NPR (one of the best sources for information I know)
the new study confirms a belief that had long been suspected, but has rarely been proven: Coordinated care, led by a family doctor who is judicious about referring patients to specialists, leads to cost savings.
“It goes from a matter of philosophical preference to actually showing that this saves money,” Grumbach says.