The Feds are coming! The Feds are coming!

As some of you might recall, my hospital asked me to serve as Chief of Staff this year. Make no mistake about it, this is a short-straw duty. I tripled my meetings and more than tripled my administrative headaches. And for what? For the ability to say in future years, “That’s okay, folks, I done my time.”

But I really stepped in it by choosing THIS year to be Chief. The Joint Commission is on their way — the Federal watchdogs who aren’t happy unless they can threaten hospitals with closure. Whenever the Feds are in town, hospital administrators swim in their own sweat, doctors run the other way when they see anyone holding a clipboard, and the wards simmer with the noisy popping of spastic sphincters everywhere.

I can’t run away. I’m the effing Chief of Staff. When the Feds show up, I’m supposed to meet with them and answer questions.

Our acting CEO has kindly provided me with a list of probable questions and their answers. I’ve done my best to memorize them, but it’s like learning a soliloquy in a foreign language. The words are meaningless to me. I read the question, I think I understand it, then I read the answer and scratch my head. Does that answer really apply to that question? And what do all these acronyms mean?

I can’t comprehend Administratorese.

This predicament reminded me of an old Gary Larson cartoon which I have shamelessly defaced.

If you are scratching your head, here’s the original. Wouldn’t be the first time I told an autistic joke, nor the last.

Sorry, Mr. Larson. I really do like your stuff, and I’ve bought many of your books and calendars!

Anyway, I’m dreading the week ahead. I’m told I can respond, “I don’t know the answer to that question, but I know who does. You should speak to” yatta yatta, but how many times can I give this answer before they close down the hospital for having a brain dead Chief?

Perhaps a distraction would work. I could have my blog opened up on a nearby laptop, one or more of my semi-nudes proudly displayed. Yeah, that might work.

Wish me luck.

D.

9 Comments

  1. mm says:

    I never know whether to admire or despise people who can be convincing even when they don’t know what the hell the answer is. I’m not one of them – I just get a dumb look on my face. Good luck, Doug.

    Hey – is your sitemeter working? I haven’t been able to access mine since Friday.

  2. Walnut says:

    So if I do well, you’ll despise me?

    That’s okay. If I do well, I think I’ll despise me!

  3. Serena Joy says:

    I feel for you. The very word “feds” is enough to send me into a tailspin. Love the defaced cartoon.:)

  4. Kris Starr says:

    You’ll be okay, Doug. I’m certain of it. Just remember: deep breaths. 🙂

    Oh, and I steal that Larson punchline all the time… except I use it in reference to the Offspring when she’s not paying any attention to me…

  5. DementedM says:

    Well, it sounds a lot like a quality audit. Usually, the more you pass the buck, the better off you are and you should really hype that you’ve just assumed the position.

    Hah.

    Assumed the position.

    Sounds dirty.

    But anyway,deflect, deny, and deceive. The three Ds of audits.

    M

  6. Corn Dog says:

    What the…? I thought the dashboard had to do with the web. What kind of lingo slingo are they tossing around thar, Doc? I don’t think they know the meaning of the mess of which they speak, or either I don’t. I know one of us is cornfused.

  7. sxKitten says:

    Here, Doug, this is what you need:

    http://www.dilbert.com/comics/dilbert/games/career/bin/ms.cgi

    It’s for mission statements, but I’m sure with a little editing you can come up with some handy catchphrases that will make you sound knowledgeable and impressive.

  8. Walnut says:

    Thanks, folks. Assume the position indeed!

    Yes, Michelle, it’s a quality audit, and if we fail we’re put on suspension and we have to get reinspected at some godawfully short interval. But I guess if it’s a longer interview than (*let me calculate*)9 months, I don’t care!

    CD, dashboard refers to certain clinical measures that tell us how we’re doing. For example, the elapsed time between when a pneumonia patient (undiagnosed) walks through the doors to the time he receives his first diagnosis — that’s a dashboard item. There are a whole bunch of these, and we track how we do from month to month, and we try to improve our numbers.

    Thanks, SxK, but none of those mission statements say anything about “providing timely quality care” blah blah blah . . .