Every conversation with a patient is an exercise in the analysis of “big data.” The patient’s appearance, changes in mood and expression, and eye contact are data points. The illness narrative is rich in semiotics: pacing, timing, nuances of speech, dialect are influenced by context, background, and insight which in turn reflect religion, education, literacy, numeracy, life experiences and peer input. All this is tempered by personal philosophy and personality traits such as recalcitrance, resilience, and tolerance. Taking a history, by itself, generates a wealth of data but that’s just the start.
Add into the mix physical findings of variable reliability, laboratory markers of variable specificity, imaging bits and bytes and you have “big data.” Then you mine this data for the probabilistic variance of the potential causes of a complaint based on which you begin to consider values for numerous options for care. So armed, the physician next needs to factor the benefits and harms of multiple treatments’ derived from populations that never perfectly reflect the situation of the individual in the chair next to us, our patient. This is the information necessary to empower our patient to make rational choices from the menu of options. That is clinical medicine. That is what we do many times a day to the best of our ability and to the limits of our stamina.
Take that Watson. You need a lot more than 90 servers and megawatts of electricity to manage our bedside rounds. You need to contend with the gloriously complicated and idiosyncratic fabric of human existence. Poets might be a match, but Watson is not.
“Value” is the most important concept in healthcare today. But it’s problematic.
I recently had the opportunity to join Boston news media veteran, Dan Rea, on his AM radio program,