34 min

EP338: Ideas to Meet Rural Healthcare’s Tough Challenges, With Nikki King, DHA Relentless Health Value™

    • Medicine

My overarching thought throughout a lot of this interview was that improving rural health will take everyone remembering to not let perfect be the enemy of the good. If I live in rural America, there’s no subspecialists. Forget about even seeing a garden-variety kind of specialist. I might have to drive hours to even get to a PCP. There are NPs (nurse practitioners) in a lot of these remote communities, but everybody’s fighting over whether to let them practice independently, even in places where there’s zero PCPs for hundreds of miles, effectively leaving everyone in the vicinity with basically zero access to any care. Or here’s another issue: Maternal mortality in this country is not only heartbreaking—a mother dying in what should be a precious moment—it’s also embarrassing as an industrialized nation to be so far in last place. I don’t know this for a fact, really, but women who have to drive literally hours to see a provider during their pregnancy or—God forbid!—they go into labor unexpectedly … is that a factor in our horrific maternal mortality rates? Consider that in Canada, which has, by the way, substantially better maternal mortality rates than the USA, PCPs and NPs deliver babies in low-risk pregnancies even in areas that have access to ob-gyns, unlike a lot of rural America. When do we start wondering if we’re letting perfect be the enemy of the good? When do we start considering if no access to care is worse than some access, even if the “some” access is not with, perhaps, the ideal type of provider? These are not questions with easy answers, so we need data. We need to think in shades of gray—not in binary terms where good and bad have static definitions unaltered by wildly different circumstances. That said, one way to potentially make many parties happy might be to do something like the Nuka system has done for Native Americans in rural Alaska. Listen to for more info on that. It’s pretty cool.   But let’s just back up a sec with a little situation analysis: The thing with rural hospitals closing—and they are surely running in the red and closing—is the very pernicious cycle that develops. A hospital closing is kind of a bellwether for a community caught in a downward spiral in ways I did not realize until my conversation with Nikki King in this healthcare podcast. The main industry shuts its doors—maybe coal, or I grew up in a steel town when they were “closing all the factories down.” That was a Billy Joel quote there, and I spent a few years as a kid in the very same Allentown that song is about. Community trauma is no joke. Oh, and also, now there’s no commercial lives. So, say the hospital in that town isn’t prepared for this new payer mix reality and it closes. Then maybe a few hundred doctors and nurses move away, along with their spending habits, so other jobs go away. Then the more affluent senior citizens don’t move back to their hometown to retire because who wants to live in a town with no hospital? Also, young families who have a choice might choose to go elsewhere. Former population centers start to disperse, and now there’s not even a population big enough to support a hospital even if one would decide to go there. And when that hospital goes, so does its maternity department—and likely, even OB/GYN practices. Forget about a laborist.   You then will have local PCPs leave town because, right, a PCP connected to a hospital can make twice as much as an indie. Reference the huge number of PCPs in this country who are employed by a health system. Most of these employed PCPs will not work in rural communities where their employer health system has no facilities to refer to. There’s no jobs there for an employed physician. Obviously, no specialists can stay in business in this environment either. Things go from bad to worse: Child abuse rises, and multigenerational diseases of despair start to set in. And there’s no healthcare to treat th

My overarching thought throughout a lot of this interview was that improving rural health will take everyone remembering to not let perfect be the enemy of the good. If I live in rural America, there’s no subspecialists. Forget about even seeing a garden-variety kind of specialist. I might have to drive hours to even get to a PCP. There are NPs (nurse practitioners) in a lot of these remote communities, but everybody’s fighting over whether to let them practice independently, even in places where there’s zero PCPs for hundreds of miles, effectively leaving everyone in the vicinity with basically zero access to any care. Or here’s another issue: Maternal mortality in this country is not only heartbreaking—a mother dying in what should be a precious moment—it’s also embarrassing as an industrialized nation to be so far in last place. I don’t know this for a fact, really, but women who have to drive literally hours to see a provider during their pregnancy or—God forbid!—they go into labor unexpectedly … is that a factor in our horrific maternal mortality rates? Consider that in Canada, which has, by the way, substantially better maternal mortality rates than the USA, PCPs and NPs deliver babies in low-risk pregnancies even in areas that have access to ob-gyns, unlike a lot of rural America. When do we start wondering if we’re letting perfect be the enemy of the good? When do we start considering if no access to care is worse than some access, even if the “some” access is not with, perhaps, the ideal type of provider? These are not questions with easy answers, so we need data. We need to think in shades of gray—not in binary terms where good and bad have static definitions unaltered by wildly different circumstances. That said, one way to potentially make many parties happy might be to do something like the Nuka system has done for Native Americans in rural Alaska. Listen to for more info on that. It’s pretty cool.   But let’s just back up a sec with a little situation analysis: The thing with rural hospitals closing—and they are surely running in the red and closing—is the very pernicious cycle that develops. A hospital closing is kind of a bellwether for a community caught in a downward spiral in ways I did not realize until my conversation with Nikki King in this healthcare podcast. The main industry shuts its doors—maybe coal, or I grew up in a steel town when they were “closing all the factories down.” That was a Billy Joel quote there, and I spent a few years as a kid in the very same Allentown that song is about. Community trauma is no joke. Oh, and also, now there’s no commercial lives. So, say the hospital in that town isn’t prepared for this new payer mix reality and it closes. Then maybe a few hundred doctors and nurses move away, along with their spending habits, so other jobs go away. Then the more affluent senior citizens don’t move back to their hometown to retire because who wants to live in a town with no hospital? Also, young families who have a choice might choose to go elsewhere. Former population centers start to disperse, and now there’s not even a population big enough to support a hospital even if one would decide to go there. And when that hospital goes, so does its maternity department—and likely, even OB/GYN practices. Forget about a laborist.   You then will have local PCPs leave town because, right, a PCP connected to a hospital can make twice as much as an indie. Reference the huge number of PCPs in this country who are employed by a health system. Most of these employed PCPs will not work in rural communities where their employer health system has no facilities to refer to. There’s no jobs there for an employed physician. Obviously, no specialists can stay in business in this environment either. Things go from bad to worse: Child abuse rises, and multigenerational diseases of despair start to set in. And there’s no healthcare to treat th

34 min