The EMS (Emergency Medical Service) transported Ed to the hospital. From there, it was into Intensive Care and onto a ventilator. He was monitored. And catheterized.
“We thought he had a bad stomach. He blamed it on my brisket.” Frieda, Ed’s wife, tried to recall what had happened in the time since his birthday dinner until the ambulance arrived.
“Anything else?” The nurse in the Unit entered information into the EHR (Electronic Health Record). It was a computer on wheels.
“He wasn’t wild about the rice pudding either.” She bought the meat and pudding at the same time, hoping for a pleasant evening.
“Did he throw it up?”
“No, I’m the one who threw up,” said Frieda.
This was more information for the EHR.
More was needed.
“Here’s a printout of all his medicines.” Edna was prepared. “And here’s a list of his medical conditions from Dr. Fromkin.”
The EHR swallowed facts the way Ed had started on his brisket. What kind of birthday was this?
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Frieda sensed that the nurse was worried. Was it that Dr. Fromkin was on the case? Was Ed’s 65-year history that complicated? Or, his new abdominal problem?
Damn. Vicki, the nurse, had forgotten to enter the insurance information.
“Do you have his cards?” She waited. The EHR was empty and demanding, so to speak. Did it really care whether Ed had a happy birthday?
“Damn,” said Frieda. She tried to explain. In haste, worried about her husband, she’d overlooked insurance cards. She had only a medical and medication history.
His chest moved to the setting of the ventilator. Ed’s catheter bag began to fill. Frieda was distracted by the heart monitor. The record was incomplete. What had she been thinking back in their condo when the EMS arrived? Ed certainly couldn’t be blamed.
Dr. Fromkin. Frieda’s brisket and rice pudding. The ICU. And now, a complete lack of insurance information in the EHR. Could it get much worse?
David Sydney is a physician. He writes fiction in–and outside–the EHR (Electronic Health Record).