"Managing Outcomes Helps a
Children’s Hospital Climb in Renown", (c) Reed
Abelson, The New York Times, September 15,
2007
CINCINNATI — Although it is nearly 2,000 miles from Boise, Idaho,
Cincinnati Children’s Hospital means to make a visit here worth a
patient’s journey.
Not content to play a regional role, the Cincinnati Children’s Hospital
Medical Center has emerged as a national name in pediatric medicine,
drawing patients from distant cities like Boise.
Over the last year, 26 percent of its 14,300 pediatric patients have
come from outside the Cincinnati area, compared with 19 percent five years
ago.
Reasons for the hospital’s national renown include its market-niche
focus on certain rare or complex conditions. A medical-team approach
coordinates the efforts of the various specialists who handle each child’s
case.
There is also diligent attention to quality and efficiency, inspired by
a chief executive from a manufacturing background.
And then there is a distinction that might seem unremarkable if it were
not so infrequent in American health care: Cincinnati Children’s Hospital
rigorously tracks how its patients fare, both in the hospital and after
they leave.
Many
hospitals might claim to offer high-quality care. But they often have
only the vaguest notion of how well their patients are doing, aside from a
few basic measures like whether they survive surgery.
Cincinnati Children’s is among the relatively few medical centers that
meticulously collect a wide range of data, to let the hospital see whether
patients are getting good, effective care — and to look for ways to
improve.
By precisely tracking how many patients develop surgical infections,
for example, and why, Cincinnati Children’s has been able to identify ways
to reduce that number by more than half — to 42 last year compared with 95
in 2005.
By carefully charting measures like the range of joint motion achieved
by juvenile
arthritis patients, to cite another example, the hospital is trying to
identify the most effective therapies and adopt them as standard
treatments.
And demonstrating the value of dealing with the practical aspects of a
patient’s medical condition, Cincinnati Children’s can point to data
showing that 95 percent of children with severe intestinal abnormalities
who complete its bowel-management program are able to leave wearing normal
underwear.
One recent beneficiary is Matthew Swan, an 8-year-old from just outside
Boise with a rare congenital disorder affecting his large intestine. After
treatment at Cincinnati Children’s, Matthew for the first time in his life
is able to attend school full time.
Identifying specialties where it can excel, and pursuing them with a
business-minded operational rigor, helped the nonprofit hospital take its
place among the nation’s best pediatric centers. It now vies for patients
with the likes of Children’s Hospital Boston, affiliated with Harvard, or
the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia.
Lacking the prestige of other well-known pediatric centers, Cincinnati
Children’s had to learn to compete on something else, said Dr. Charles
Homer, the chief executive of the nonprofit National Initiative for
Children’s Healthcare Quality. “The something else is quality.”
The hospital’s national emergence has been led by James M. Anderson, a
former corporate lawyer who ran an industrial valve maker before becoming
the hospital’s chief executive in 1996. The goal, he said, is to make “the
experience you have in Cincinnati Children’s to be so much better an
experience you want to come here.”
The strategy’s success can be measured in the hospital’s operating
revenue, which has grown by about 50 percent over the last three years, to
just over $1 billion for fiscal 2006. The figure includes the mounting
research grants pulled in by some of the top medical specialists whom Mr.
Anderson has recruited from around the country.
“Cincinnati Children’s is a good example of a provider moving
voluntarily down the path towards value-based care delivery or value-based
competition,” said Michael E. Porter, a Harvard Business School professor.
He is an author of the book “Redefining Health Care,” which argues that
hospitals should compete on the basis of their proven success in treating
particular medical conditions.
The competitive strategy at Cincinnati Children’s evolved about six
years ago from a period of soul-searching as Mr. Anderson sought a
strategic mission for the hospital.
Although it had always enjoyed a strong reputation, there was a growing
consensus among doctors and other employees that the hospital was falling
short of its own expectations, said Lee A. Carter, a retired marketing
executive who is chairman of the hospital’s board.
“It really woke us up,” he said, recalling a collective realization
that “we’re not as good as we thought we were.”
One area with significant room for improvement was treatment of cystic
fibrosis patients. Data from the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation showed that
patients at Cincinnati Children’s were not doing nearly as well as those
at other leading treatment centers around the country.
Mr. Anderson’s team decided to confront those shortcomings. Cincinnati
Children’s took the potentially risky step of sharing the unflattering
data with the parents of cystic fibrosis patients, as it embarked on a
project to improve the results of the hospital’s care.
Among other steps, the hospital began tracking the lung function of the
patients more closely, ensured that more of them got
flu shots and concentrated on improving the
nutrition of those who were seriously underweight.
Although Cincinnati Children’s is still not among the top-performing
hospitals in treating cystic fibrosis, it has made significant strides,
according to national data that now puts it solidly above average in
measures like lung function or nutritional status.
Mr. Anderson used his manufacturing background to help the doctors
break problems down into distinct steps for improving the hospital’s care.
Until then, even when they knew care could be better, the doctors “didn’t
know it was fixable,” recalled Dr. Uma R. Kotagal, the physician in charge
of quality improvement at the hospital.
As the only pediatric hospital in the area, Cincinnati Children’s
continues to provide its share of basic care to local children. But it
also aims to reduce the number of patients who should not be there in the
first place.
A few years ago, Cincinnati Children’s started a successful program
with local pediatricians to better manage
asthma in the community by making sure every patient had a treatment
plan and that doctors had a way of responding to problems that surfaced
when their offices were closed.
There has been a significant drop in the number of asthmatic children
showing up in the hospital’s emergency room or being admitted.
The nation’s other top-tier children’s hospitals are taking similar
approaches, trying to concentrate on the sickest children, for whom
reimbursements are typically the most generous, said Mark Wietecha, the
chairman of Kurt Salmon Associates, an Atlanta consulting firm that works
closely with academic medical centers and children’s hospitals.
“Dehydrated kids are not a future,” he said.
These days, Cincinnati Children’s devotes its energy to narrow
specialties where it can develop a true expertise — like Fanconi
anemia, a rare genetic disease that leads to bone marrow failure.
The hospital says it now treats about one-third of the nation’s 300 or
so children with the condition. That relatively high volume of cases lets
doctors acquire the experience critical to good care, while also enabling
Cincinnati Children’s to gain further expertise by conducting extensive
research into the disease.
The more patients it attracts in one of its specialties, in other
words, the better care the hospital can deliver, making it even better
able to compete for future patients.
Two years ago Mr. Anderson recruited a pair of well-regarded
specialists to start the hospital’s center for diseases of the colon and
rectum.
The colorectal center enables children to get coordinated treatment
from different specialists, and spares parents the frustration of
navigating a maze of tests, consultations and procedures by handing them a
detailed itinerary when they arrive.
Hospital officials say the center, which treated 430 patients last
year, is the only one of its kind in the country.
“Nobody has seen the number of patients we have seen,” said Dr. Alberto
Peña, the center’s director, who had been chief of pediatric surgery at
Schneider Children’s Hospital, part of the North Shore Long Island Jewish
Health System in New York.
He was recruited along with Dr. Marc A. Levitt, also from North Shore,
who is the center’s associate director.
One of those patients has been Matthew Swan, a third-grader, who has a
serious congenital condition called Hirschsprung’s disease that affects
his large intestine’s ability to process food.
Unable to find specialists closer to their Idaho home, his mother had
been taking him to a children’s hospital in Michigan.
But Matthew was still a frequent visitor to emergency rooms because of
chronic intestinal infections and was unable to attend a full day of
school.
“We were told that this was just the way it has to be,” said his
mother, Jaqueline Swan. Unwilling to accept that conclusion, Mrs. Swan
researched colorectal programs, spoke to other parents and chose to come
to Cincinnati Children’s.
Recognizing that Matthew has an especially rare form of the disease,
the Cincinnati doctors took him off the high-fiber diet that is usually
suggested and stopped the use of laxatives. And Matthew received the help
he needed, including recent surgery, to better control his bowel
movements.
While some hospitals might simply stop at the surgery, Cincinnati
Children’s sees part of its job as helping each patient learn to live as
normal a life as possible. In the case of patients like Matthew, that
means ensuring that the vast majority end up able to remain continent, Dr.
Levitt said.
“It would be a glaring deficiency if we didn’t do it,” he said.