Gatorade Got Me Going On This
While sitting uncomfortably today in the hands of an angry dental hygienist, I overheard my dentist telling another patient to lay off the Gatorade. He was adamant that his patients -- be they pro athletes, weekend warriors or day laborers -- not substitute cavities for occasional carb boosts.
While interesting, I was more intrigued by the fact that I could eavesdrop so easily. Congress says I shouldn’t.
Several years ago, politicians took a bill aimed at streamlining health insurance reporting systems and turned it into a much more ambitious law guaranteeing patients’ rights and privacy. It’s called the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, and by now every hospital, physician, dentist, chiropractor and even company HR department is supposed to follow it. Its mandates take reams of paper to fully explain, but it boils down to patients having a stronger say in who can look at their medical records. For most of us, this is achieved by the receptionist or nurse demanding you sign a waiver that allows various health care practitioners to discuss your records. Most people don’t object, believing such communications are beneficial. HIPAA also demands that those who handle patient records provide a certain level of privacy. This is where my dentist comes in.
Under HIPAA, precautions must be taken to ensure patient privacy. Some of these cost very little; others, significant cash outlay. Simple: store patient files in a locked cabinet. Significant: encrypt every electronic patient record and provide multi-factor authentication to access and descramble those records. My dentist’s office is typical. There’s an open reception area, where anyone in the waiting area can overhear the administrative assistant set up appointments and discuss payment issues. From this arrangement, I learned the guy with the Gatorade addiction needs a new crown and how much his co-payment will be. He, in turn, was privy to the hygienist chiding me for not flossing. He knows because there are no individual rooms to treat patients, just a row of chairs and equipment separated by cubicle walls. All the dentist had to do to be HIPAA compliant was pipe in music at a decent decibel. Alas, he didn’t. All I had to do is drop a dime to report him. However, I won't.
Later in the day, my now-bona-fide veteran husband and I went to the Miramar Air Station to enroll in a civilian health plan. It was crowded and noisy and if I pealed my ears, I could overhear conversations -- but not between practitioners and patients. It reminded me that well before HIPAA’s privacy provisions kicked in, I was given a pamphlet on my patient rights under new regulations. I doubt anyone outside information security understood the motive, but I was impressed with the outreach. I’m glad we get to continue going to military medical facilities with our new insurance. I’m especially glad to know I’m covered on Sunday. Now, if I fall apart on the course, or get a toothache from too much Gatorade, at least I know someone is helping pick up the the tab. And keeping it just between us.
While interesting, I was more intrigued by the fact that I could eavesdrop so easily. Congress says I shouldn’t.
Several years ago, politicians took a bill aimed at streamlining health insurance reporting systems and turned it into a much more ambitious law guaranteeing patients’ rights and privacy. It’s called the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act of 1996, and by now every hospital, physician, dentist, chiropractor and even company HR department is supposed to follow it. Its mandates take reams of paper to fully explain, but it boils down to patients having a stronger say in who can look at their medical records. For most of us, this is achieved by the receptionist or nurse demanding you sign a waiver that allows various health care practitioners to discuss your records. Most people don’t object, believing such communications are beneficial. HIPAA also demands that those who handle patient records provide a certain level of privacy. This is where my dentist comes in.
Under HIPAA, precautions must be taken to ensure patient privacy. Some of these cost very little; others, significant cash outlay. Simple: store patient files in a locked cabinet. Significant: encrypt every electronic patient record and provide multi-factor authentication to access and descramble those records. My dentist’s office is typical. There’s an open reception area, where anyone in the waiting area can overhear the administrative assistant set up appointments and discuss payment issues. From this arrangement, I learned the guy with the Gatorade addiction needs a new crown and how much his co-payment will be. He, in turn, was privy to the hygienist chiding me for not flossing. He knows because there are no individual rooms to treat patients, just a row of chairs and equipment separated by cubicle walls. All the dentist had to do to be HIPAA compliant was pipe in music at a decent decibel. Alas, he didn’t. All I had to do is drop a dime to report him. However, I won't.
Later in the day, my now-bona-fide veteran husband and I went to the Miramar Air Station to enroll in a civilian health plan. It was crowded and noisy and if I pealed my ears, I could overhear conversations -- but not between practitioners and patients. It reminded me that well before HIPAA’s privacy provisions kicked in, I was given a pamphlet on my patient rights under new regulations. I doubt anyone outside information security understood the motive, but I was impressed with the outreach. I’m glad we get to continue going to military medical facilities with our new insurance. I’m especially glad to know I’m covered on Sunday. Now, if I fall apart on the course, or get a toothache from too much Gatorade, at least I know someone is helping pick up the the tab. And keeping it just between us.
