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I am SO done with telemedicine.
In mid-March, as quarantine restrictions began, I embraced it. I frantically learned which insurances would and wouldn’t allow it, what billing codes had to be used (which varied wildly between plans), and what communication systems were and weren’t allowed.
For most of us it was a way to continue caring for patients and at least keep a trickle of revenue coming in. We could still go over test results face to face, see how a treatment plan was working, and check in with established patients before sending in refills. It seemed like a great solution. For the first 2-3 weeks I was thinking this was the way to go even after the pandemic calmed down.
Then it became increasingly problematic. New patients wanted to be seen remotely. No, I wasn’t doing that. It upset some, but I didn’t care. A neurologic exam is still a critical part of me assessing someone for the first time.
The next problem that came up was in routine check-ins with established patients. Headaches had recently gotten worse, but now I couldn’t do a fundoscopic exam. A stable seizure patient mentioned he’d had a month of worsening lumbar pain and right-leg weakness, but I can’t really check strength, reflexes, or sensation remotely. A lady I saw last year for a diabetic neuropathy is now being referred back to me for possible Parkinson’s disease. While hypomimia or shuffling gait can be seen on camera, you can’t check for rigidity and cogwheeling that way.
So my use of telemedicine has begun to decrease, and as the pandemic fades will hopefully stop entirely. Currently I’m only using it for recently seen patients to review test results or for established patients doing routine check-ins for stable issues. My secretary asks if they have any new issues to discuss with me when she sets up the appointment, and if they say yes she tells them it has to be in person.
This isn’t, as some will claim, a matter of my trying to increase revenue. It’s about practicing good medicine.
Neurology is a contact sport. We spend years learning to recognize minutiae from the moment we first see a patient. The way they speak, and walk, and move. The details of the exam. These are not, for the most part, things you can do with a camera. Other specialties may be less exam dependent, but not mine, and definitely not me. I’d be practicing substandard care if I did otherwise.
Not only that, but it becomes a liability issue. In a legal action you won’t get a pass if you miss something via remote appointment because it was a pandemic. The daily practice of medicine is full of minefields as it is. I don’t want to add another one.
When things return to normal – whatever the new normal is – I’m hoping to put my webcam away for good. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but in reality is only useful in a handful of cases. For all others, my patients deserve better neurologic care than it lets me provide.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
I am SO done with telemedicine.
In mid-March, as quarantine restrictions began, I embraced it. I frantically learned which insurances would and wouldn’t allow it, what billing codes had to be used (which varied wildly between plans), and what communication systems were and weren’t allowed.
For most of us it was a way to continue caring for patients and at least keep a trickle of revenue coming in. We could still go over test results face to face, see how a treatment plan was working, and check in with established patients before sending in refills. It seemed like a great solution. For the first 2-3 weeks I was thinking this was the way to go even after the pandemic calmed down.
Then it became increasingly problematic. New patients wanted to be seen remotely. No, I wasn’t doing that. It upset some, but I didn’t care. A neurologic exam is still a critical part of me assessing someone for the first time.
The next problem that came up was in routine check-ins with established patients. Headaches had recently gotten worse, but now I couldn’t do a fundoscopic exam. A stable seizure patient mentioned he’d had a month of worsening lumbar pain and right-leg weakness, but I can’t really check strength, reflexes, or sensation remotely. A lady I saw last year for a diabetic neuropathy is now being referred back to me for possible Parkinson’s disease. While hypomimia or shuffling gait can be seen on camera, you can’t check for rigidity and cogwheeling that way.
So my use of telemedicine has begun to decrease, and as the pandemic fades will hopefully stop entirely. Currently I’m only using it for recently seen patients to review test results or for established patients doing routine check-ins for stable issues. My secretary asks if they have any new issues to discuss with me when she sets up the appointment, and if they say yes she tells them it has to be in person.
This isn’t, as some will claim, a matter of my trying to increase revenue. It’s about practicing good medicine.
Neurology is a contact sport. We spend years learning to recognize minutiae from the moment we first see a patient. The way they speak, and walk, and move. The details of the exam. These are not, for the most part, things you can do with a camera. Other specialties may be less exam dependent, but not mine, and definitely not me. I’d be practicing substandard care if I did otherwise.
Not only that, but it becomes a liability issue. In a legal action you won’t get a pass if you miss something via remote appointment because it was a pandemic. The daily practice of medicine is full of minefields as it is. I don’t want to add another one.
When things return to normal – whatever the new normal is – I’m hoping to put my webcam away for good. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but in reality is only useful in a handful of cases. For all others, my patients deserve better neurologic care than it lets me provide.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.
I am SO done with telemedicine.
In mid-March, as quarantine restrictions began, I embraced it. I frantically learned which insurances would and wouldn’t allow it, what billing codes had to be used (which varied wildly between plans), and what communication systems were and weren’t allowed.
For most of us it was a way to continue caring for patients and at least keep a trickle of revenue coming in. We could still go over test results face to face, see how a treatment plan was working, and check in with established patients before sending in refills. It seemed like a great solution. For the first 2-3 weeks I was thinking this was the way to go even after the pandemic calmed down.
Then it became increasingly problematic. New patients wanted to be seen remotely. No, I wasn’t doing that. It upset some, but I didn’t care. A neurologic exam is still a critical part of me assessing someone for the first time.
The next problem that came up was in routine check-ins with established patients. Headaches had recently gotten worse, but now I couldn’t do a fundoscopic exam. A stable seizure patient mentioned he’d had a month of worsening lumbar pain and right-leg weakness, but I can’t really check strength, reflexes, or sensation remotely. A lady I saw last year for a diabetic neuropathy is now being referred back to me for possible Parkinson’s disease. While hypomimia or shuffling gait can be seen on camera, you can’t check for rigidity and cogwheeling that way.
So my use of telemedicine has begun to decrease, and as the pandemic fades will hopefully stop entirely. Currently I’m only using it for recently seen patients to review test results or for established patients doing routine check-ins for stable issues. My secretary asks if they have any new issues to discuss with me when she sets up the appointment, and if they say yes she tells them it has to be in person.
This isn’t, as some will claim, a matter of my trying to increase revenue. It’s about practicing good medicine.
Neurology is a contact sport. We spend years learning to recognize minutiae from the moment we first see a patient. The way they speak, and walk, and move. The details of the exam. These are not, for the most part, things you can do with a camera. Other specialties may be less exam dependent, but not mine, and definitely not me. I’d be practicing substandard care if I did otherwise.
Not only that, but it becomes a liability issue. In a legal action you won’t get a pass if you miss something via remote appointment because it was a pandemic. The daily practice of medicine is full of minefields as it is. I don’t want to add another one.
When things return to normal – whatever the new normal is – I’m hoping to put my webcam away for good. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but in reality is only useful in a handful of cases. For all others, my patients deserve better neurologic care than it lets me provide.
Dr. Block has a solo neurology practice in Scottsdale, Ariz.