Jerome C. Siy, MD, MHA, SFHM

Last month we converged virtually for our annual conference, SHM Converge – the second time since the start of the coronavirus pandemic. We are thankful for innovations and advancements in technology that have allowed the world, including SHM, to continue connecting us all together. And yet, 18 months in, having forged new roads, experienced unique and life-changing events, we long for the in-person human connection that allows us to share a common experience. At a time of imperatives in our world – a global pandemic, systemic racism, and deep geopolitical divides – more than ever, we need to converge. Isolation only festers, deepening our divisions and conflicts.

In high school, I read Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” and clung to the notion of diverging roads and choosing the road less traveled. Like most young people, my years since reading the poem were filled with attempts at forging new paths and experiencing great things – and yet, always feeling unaccomplished. Was Oscar Wilde right when he wrote: “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life?” After all, these past 18 months, we have shared in the traumas of our times, and still, we remain isolated and alone. Our diverse experiences have been real, both tragic and heroic, from east to west, city to country, black to white, and red to blue.

At SHM, it’s time to converge and face the great challenges of our lifetime. A deadly pandemic continues to rage around the world, bringing unprecedented human suffering and loss of lives. In its wake, this pandemic also laid bare the ugly face of systemic racism, brought our deepest divisions to the surface – all threatening the very fabric of our society. This pandemic has been a stress test for health care systems, revealing our vulnerabilities and expanding the chasm of care between urban and rural communities, all in turn worsening our growing health disparities. This moment needs convergence to rekindle connection and solidarity.

Scholars do not interpret “The Road Not Taken” as a recommendation to take the road less traveled. Instead, it is a suggestion that the diverging roads lead to a common place having been “worn about the same” as they “equally lay.” It is true that our roads are unique and shape our lives, but so, too, does the destination and common place our roads lead us to. At that common place, during these taxing times, SHM enables hospitalists to tackle these great challenges.

For over 2 decades of dynamic changes in health care, SHM has been the workshop where hospitalists converged to sharpen clinical skills, improve quality and safety, develop acute care models inside and outside of hospitals, advocate for better health policy and blaze new trails. Though the issues evolved, and new ones emerge, today is no different.

Indeed, this is an historic time. This weighted moment meets us at the crossroads. A moment that demands synergy, cooperation, and creativity. A dynamic change to health care policy, advances in care innovation, renewed prioritization of public health, and rich national discourse on our social fabric; hospitalists are essential to every one of those conversations. SHM has evolved to meet our growing needs, equipping hospitalists with tools to engage at every level, and most importantly, enabled us to find our common place.

Where do we go now? I suggest we continue to take the roads not taken and at the destination, build the map of tomorrow, together.

Dr. Siy is division medical director, hospital specialties, in the departments of hospital medicine and community senior and palliative care at HealthPartners in Bloomington, Minn. He is the new president of SHM.

Last month we converged virtually for our annual conference, SHM Converge – the second time since the start of the coronavirus pandemic. We are thankful for innovations and advancements in technology that have allowed the world, including SHM, to continue connecting us all together. And yet, 18 months in, having forged new roads, experienced unique and life-changing events, we long for the in-person human connection that allows us to share a common experience. At a time of imperatives in our world – a global pandemic, systemic racism, and deep geopolitical divides – more than ever, we need to converge. Isolation only festers, deepening our divisions and conflicts.

In high school, I read Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” and clung to the notion of diverging roads and choosing the road less traveled. Like most young people, my years since reading the poem were filled with attempts at forging new paths and experiencing great things – and yet, always feeling unaccomplished. Was Oscar Wilde right when he wrote: “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life?” After all, these past 18 months, we have shared in the traumas of our times, and still, we remain isolated and alone. Our diverse experiences have been real, both tragic and heroic, from east to west, city to country, black to white, and red to blue.

At SHM, it’s time to converge and face the great challenges of our lifetime. A deadly pandemic continues to rage around the world, bringing unprecedented human suffering and loss of lives. In its wake, this pandemic also laid bare the ugly face of systemic racism, brought our deepest divisions to the surface – all threatening the very fabric of our society. This pandemic has been a stress test for health care systems, revealing our vulnerabilities and expanding the chasm of care between urban and rural communities, all in turn worsening our growing health disparities. This moment needs convergence to rekindle connection and solidarity.

Scholars do not interpret “The Road Not Taken” as a recommendation to take the road less traveled. Instead, it is a suggestion that the diverging roads lead to a common place having been “worn about the same” as they “equally lay.” It is true that our roads are unique and shape our lives, but so, too, does the destination and common place our roads lead us to. At that common place, during these taxing times, SHM enables hospitalists to tackle these great challenges.

For over 2 decades of dynamic changes in health care, SHM has been the workshop where hospitalists converged to sharpen clinical skills, improve quality and safety, develop acute care models inside and outside of hospitals, advocate for better health policy and blaze new trails. Though the issues evolved, and new ones emerge, today is no different.

Indeed, this is an historic time. This weighted moment meets us at the crossroads. A moment that demands synergy, cooperation, and creativity. A dynamic change to health care policy, advances in care innovation, renewed prioritization of public health, and rich national discourse on our social fabric; hospitalists are essential to every one of those conversations. SHM has evolved to meet our growing needs, equipping hospitalists with tools to engage at every level, and most importantly, enabled us to find our common place.

Where do we go now? I suggest we continue to take the roads not taken and at the destination, build the map of tomorrow, together.

Dr. Siy is division medical director, hospital specialties, in the departments of hospital medicine and community senior and palliative care at HealthPartners in Bloomington, Minn. He is the new president of SHM.

Last month we converged virtually for our annual conference, SHM Converge – the second time since the start of the coronavirus pandemic. We are thankful for innovations and advancements in technology that have allowed the world, including SHM, to continue connecting us all together. And yet, 18 months in, having forged new roads, experienced unique and life-changing events, we long for the in-person human connection that allows us to share a common experience. At a time of imperatives in our world – a global pandemic, systemic racism, and deep geopolitical divides – more than ever, we need to converge. Isolation only festers, deepening our divisions and conflicts.

In high school, I read Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” and clung to the notion of diverging roads and choosing the road less traveled. Like most young people, my years since reading the poem were filled with attempts at forging new paths and experiencing great things – and yet, always feeling unaccomplished. Was Oscar Wilde right when he wrote: “Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life?” After all, these past 18 months, we have shared in the traumas of our times, and still, we remain isolated and alone. Our diverse experiences have been real, both tragic and heroic, from east to west, city to country, black to white, and red to blue.

At SHM, it’s time to converge and face the great challenges of our lifetime. A deadly pandemic continues to rage around the world, bringing unprecedented human suffering and loss of lives. In its wake, this pandemic also laid bare the ugly face of systemic racism, brought our deepest divisions to the surface – all threatening the very fabric of our society. This pandemic has been a stress test for health care systems, revealing our vulnerabilities and expanding the chasm of care between urban and rural communities, all in turn worsening our growing health disparities. This moment needs convergence to rekindle connection and solidarity.

Scholars do not interpret “The Road Not Taken” as a recommendation to take the road less traveled. Instead, it is a suggestion that the diverging roads lead to a common place having been “worn about the same” as they “equally lay.” It is true that our roads are unique and shape our lives, but so, too, does the destination and common place our roads lead us to. At that common place, during these taxing times, SHM enables hospitalists to tackle these great challenges.

For over 2 decades of dynamic changes in health care, SHM has been the workshop where hospitalists converged to sharpen clinical skills, improve quality and safety, develop acute care models inside and outside of hospitals, advocate for better health policy and blaze new trails. Though the issues evolved, and new ones emerge, today is no different.

Indeed, this is an historic time. This weighted moment meets us at the crossroads. A moment that demands synergy, cooperation, and creativity. A dynamic change to health care policy, advances in care innovation, renewed prioritization of public health, and rich national discourse on our social fabric; hospitalists are essential to every one of those conversations. SHM has evolved to meet our growing needs, equipping hospitalists with tools to engage at every level, and most importantly, enabled us to find our common place.

Where do we go now? I suggest we continue to take the roads not taken and at the destination, build the map of tomorrow, together.

Dr. Siy is division medical director, hospital specialties, in the departments of hospital medicine and community senior and palliative care at HealthPartners in Bloomington, Minn. He is the new president of SHM.

Overwhelmed. As if we weren’t already overwhelmed. For decades, hospitalists have been on the forefront of improving acute care amidst a rapidly changing environment. These last few decades have seen tremendous advances in medicine, technology, safety culture, innovations in payment models, transformation in business models, and a rising tide of health care policy. There was never a year we didn’t face major change … and adapt to it. Then 2020 came upon us.

This year, we adapt to more than a score and 4 years’ worth of change.

The two pandemics that have come upon us are like tsunamis. And many of us are drowning. We know of threats of pandemics: influenza, Ebola, and the like. But SARS-CoV-2 is new and like no other. We live in fear and isolation, each and every day learning new information and debunking others. We also know of racial injustice and racism, implicit or explicit in our nation, whether we live it or just read of it. George Floyd’s death in my hometown marked another tsunami, a great realization in our nation, and a great unmasking of our denial.

Yet our country is not united.

Hospital medicine is not immune to this disunity. At a time that we are all treading water, staying afloat in our own hospitals and communities, confronting these issues beyond our immediate spheres of influence is overwhelming. We are impacted by these pandemics, personally and professionally. And admittedly, we can be both victim and perpetrator.

In the face of a novel infectious agent, medicine responded quickly and pushed us beyond our limits. We have developed new infection prevention guidelines. We worked creatively to solve PPE shortages. We fashioned new work flows and new care models. We accelerated telehealth applications. We expanded the boundaries on home-based programs and reached out to vulnerable elderly in congregate living – an isolation no older person should have to endure. We cared for our colleagues, neighbors, and family members who fell ill, some who recovered, and sadly, some who fell. We developed best-practice guidelines, research protocols, created new order sets, note templates, and documentation standards. We flexed into EDs, ICUs, and field hospitals. Amidst the turmoil, we took pay cuts and saw colleagues go on furlough. And still, we mentored leaders in our schools, churches, synagogues, mosques, and civic communities.

And just when we thought we could endure no more, on May 25, we witnessed a black man in Minneapolis killed by a policeman’s knee. The same knee that divided Americans when black American athletes knelt to protest the injustice their people have endured for centuries. A knee that has been confused for insolence, when it was meant for justice ... yes, justice, for all. So, in early June, around the nation in support of black lives we also knelt, for almost 9 minutes.

This was the third time I cried during the pandemics.

For many of us, structural racism in America had finally been unmasked. The nation protested and rioted for weeks, and some communities have continued. Indeed, these two pandemics are still surging.

Side by side COVID-19 case conferences we lay transparent data demonstrating health disparities that we have tolerated for so long. We have vowed to resource equity work, and we opened dialogue, not only with patients and communities of color, but also with colleagues of color – some ready and some not yet ready to share and relive the traumas of their past and their present.

And still, we are not united.

While we physically mask to prevent the spread of COVID-19, we must make efforts to unmask the truths of SARS-CoV-2, the failings of our health system, the richness of our communities of color, and the injustice in the fabric of our society. More importantly, we must work together to create solutions. While we have diverse interests and priorities, at SHM, we can find common ground with kindred spirits, enhance the role of our specialty, and advance the health of our patients.

Let’s not be mistaken. These pandemics add to a growing list of interwoven issues in our society. In 2018, I wrote a piece on the role of hospitalists in addressing rural health disparities.¹ According to the Sheps Center for Health Services Research, 129 rural hospitals have closed since 2010, closures that have accelerated with the COVID-19 pandemic.² More than ever, we must stand above our inner and outer conflicts and be united to promote the health of our nation during these pandemics, because “all policy is health policy.”³

Most SHM presidents and president-elects come in with a platform, a priority for the specialty and for the society. This year, the platform has chosen us. For 20 years, I have witnessed SHM be a workshop for our members to address the pressing needs of our specialty and our patients. In 2020, we’ve continued to see SHM as a workshop for our members and a tour de force addressing these pandemics, from just in time publications of research and perspectives in the Journal of Hospital Medicine, to webinars and open access education in the Learning Portal, to advocacy on Capitol Hill. All of that work has been informed by you and for you. While there is still so much to do, we need not be overwhelmed when we do it together.

A score and 4 years ago, Robert Wachter, MD, and Lee Goldman, MD, dubbed us “hospitalists.” A year later, our shared workshop was born. Through one name change and now our first CEO transition from Larry Wellikson, MD, to Eric Howell, MD, SHM will continue to be where hospitalists both adapt and shape our nation through solutions that put an end to these pandemics. Let’s recommit to this work together.

Dr. Siy is division medical director, hospital specialties, in the departments of hospital medicine and community senior and palliative care, at HealthPartners in Bloomington, Minn. He is president-elect of SHM.

Sources

1. Hardeman RR et al. Stolen Breaths. N Engl J Med. 2020 Jul 16;383:197-9.

2. Siy JC. Reviving Rural Health Care. The Hospitalist. 2018 Sep 24.

3. The Cecil G. Sheps Center For Health Services Research. Rural Hospital Closures. 2014. https://www.shepscenter.unc.edu/programs-projects/rural-health/rural-hospital-closures/

Overwhelmed. As if we weren’t already overwhelmed. For decades, hospitalists have been on the forefront of improving acute care amidst a rapidly changing environment. These last few decades have seen tremendous advances in medicine, technology, safety culture, innovations in payment models, transformation in business models, and a rising tide of health care policy. There was never a year we didn’t face major change … and adapt to it. Then 2020 came upon us.

This year, we adapt to more than a score and 4 years’ worth of change.

The two pandemics that have come upon us are like tsunamis. And many of us are drowning. We know of threats of pandemics: influenza, Ebola, and the like. But SARS-CoV-2 is new and like no other. We live in fear and isolation, each and every day learning new information and debunking others. We also know of racial injustice and racism, implicit or explicit in our nation, whether we live it or just read of it. George Floyd’s death in my hometown marked another tsunami, a great realization in our nation, and a great unmasking of our denial.

Yet our country is not united.

Hospital medicine is not immune to this disunity. At a time that we are all treading water, staying afloat in our own hospitals and communities, confronting these issues beyond our immediate spheres of influence is overwhelming. We are impacted by these pandemics, personally and professionally. And admittedly, we can be both victim and perpetrator.

In the face of a novel infectious agent, medicine responded quickly and pushed us beyond our limits. We have developed new infection prevention guidelines. We worked creatively to solve PPE shortages. We fashioned new work flows and new care models. We accelerated telehealth applications. We expanded the boundaries on home-based programs and reached out to vulnerable elderly in congregate living – an isolation no older person should have to endure. We cared for our colleagues, neighbors, and family members who fell ill, some who recovered, and sadly, some who fell. We developed best-practice guidelines, research protocols, created new order sets, note templates, and documentation standards. We flexed into EDs, ICUs, and field hospitals. Amidst the turmoil, we took pay cuts and saw colleagues go on furlough. And still, we mentored leaders in our schools, churches, synagogues, mosques, and civic communities.

And just when we thought we could endure no more, on May 25, we witnessed a black man in Minneapolis killed by a policeman’s knee. The same knee that divided Americans when black American athletes knelt to protest the injustice their people have endured for centuries. A knee that has been confused for insolence, when it was meant for justice ... yes, justice, for all. So, in early June, around the nation in support of black lives we also knelt, for almost 9 minutes.

This was the third time I cried during the pandemics.

For many of us, structural racism in America had finally been unmasked. The nation protested and rioted for weeks, and some communities have continued. Indeed, these two pandemics are still surging.

Side by side COVID-19 case conferences we lay transparent data demonstrating health disparities that we have tolerated for so long. We have vowed to resource equity work, and we opened dialogue, not only with patients and communities of color, but also with colleagues of color – some ready and some not yet ready to share and relive the traumas of their past and their present.

And still, we are not united.

While we physically mask to prevent the spread of COVID-19, we must make efforts to unmask the truths of SARS-CoV-2, the failings of our health system, the richness of our communities of color, and the injustice in the fabric of our society. More importantly, we must work together to create solutions. While we have diverse interests and priorities, at SHM, we can find common ground with kindred spirits, enhance the role of our specialty, and advance the health of our patients.

Let’s not be mistaken. These pandemics add to a growing list of interwoven issues in our society. In 2018, I wrote a piece on the role of hospitalists in addressing rural health disparities.¹ According to the Sheps Center for Health Services Research, 129 rural hospitals have closed since 2010, closures that have accelerated with the COVID-19 pandemic.² More than ever, we must stand above our inner and outer conflicts and be united to promote the health of our nation during these pandemics, because “all policy is health policy.”³

Most SHM presidents and president-elects come in with a platform, a priority for the specialty and for the society. This year, the platform has chosen us. For 20 years, I have witnessed SHM be a workshop for our members to address the pressing needs of our specialty and our patients. In 2020, we’ve continued to see SHM as a workshop for our members and a tour de force addressing these pandemics, from just in time publications of research and perspectives in the Journal of Hospital Medicine, to webinars and open access education in the Learning Portal, to advocacy on Capitol Hill. All of that work has been informed by you and for you. While there is still so much to do, we need not be overwhelmed when we do it together.

A score and 4 years ago, Robert Wachter, MD, and Lee Goldman, MD, dubbed us “hospitalists.” A year later, our shared workshop was born. Through one name change and now our first CEO transition from Larry Wellikson, MD, to Eric Howell, MD, SHM will continue to be where hospitalists both adapt and shape our nation through solutions that put an end to these pandemics. Let’s recommit to this work together.

Dr. Siy is division medical director, hospital specialties, in the departments of hospital medicine and community senior and palliative care, at HealthPartners in Bloomington, Minn. He is president-elect of SHM.

Sources

1. Hardeman RR et al. Stolen Breaths. N Engl J Med. 2020 Jul 16;383:197-9.

2. Siy JC. Reviving Rural Health Care. The Hospitalist. 2018 Sep 24.

3. The Cecil G. Sheps Center For Health Services Research. Rural Hospital Closures. 2014. https://www.shepscenter.unc.edu/programs-projects/rural-health/rural-hospital-closures/

Overwhelmed. As if we weren’t already overwhelmed. For decades, hospitalists have been on the forefront of improving acute care amidst a rapidly changing environment. These last few decades have seen tremendous advances in medicine, technology, safety culture, innovations in payment models, transformation in business models, and a rising tide of health care policy. There was never a year we didn’t face major change … and adapt to it. Then 2020 came upon us.

This year, we adapt to more than a score and 4 years’ worth of change.

The two pandemics that have come upon us are like tsunamis. And many of us are drowning. We know of threats of pandemics: influenza, Ebola, and the like. But SARS-CoV-2 is new and like no other. We live in fear and isolation, each and every day learning new information and debunking others. We also know of racial injustice and racism, implicit or explicit in our nation, whether we live it or just read of it. George Floyd’s death in my hometown marked another tsunami, a great realization in our nation, and a great unmasking of our denial.

Yet our country is not united.

Hospital medicine is not immune to this disunity. At a time that we are all treading water, staying afloat in our own hospitals and communities, confronting these issues beyond our immediate spheres of influence is overwhelming. We are impacted by these pandemics, personally and professionally. And admittedly, we can be both victim and perpetrator.

In the face of a novel infectious agent, medicine responded quickly and pushed us beyond our limits. We have developed new infection prevention guidelines. We worked creatively to solve PPE shortages. We fashioned new work flows and new care models. We accelerated telehealth applications. We expanded the boundaries on home-based programs and reached out to vulnerable elderly in congregate living – an isolation no older person should have to endure. We cared for our colleagues, neighbors, and family members who fell ill, some who recovered, and sadly, some who fell. We developed best-practice guidelines, research protocols, created new order sets, note templates, and documentation standards. We flexed into EDs, ICUs, and field hospitals. Amidst the turmoil, we took pay cuts and saw colleagues go on furlough. And still, we mentored leaders in our schools, churches, synagogues, mosques, and civic communities.

And just when we thought we could endure no more, on May 25, we witnessed a black man in Minneapolis killed by a policeman’s knee. The same knee that divided Americans when black American athletes knelt to protest the injustice their people have endured for centuries. A knee that has been confused for insolence, when it was meant for justice ... yes, justice, for all. So, in early June, around the nation in support of black lives we also knelt, for almost 9 minutes.

This was the third time I cried during the pandemics.

For many of us, structural racism in America had finally been unmasked. The nation protested and rioted for weeks, and some communities have continued. Indeed, these two pandemics are still surging.

Side by side COVID-19 case conferences we lay transparent data demonstrating health disparities that we have tolerated for so long. We have vowed to resource equity work, and we opened dialogue, not only with patients and communities of color, but also with colleagues of color – some ready and some not yet ready to share and relive the traumas of their past and their present.

And still, we are not united.

While we physically mask to prevent the spread of COVID-19, we must make efforts to unmask the truths of SARS-CoV-2, the failings of our health system, the richness of our communities of color, and the injustice in the fabric of our society. More importantly, we must work together to create solutions. While we have diverse interests and priorities, at SHM, we can find common ground with kindred spirits, enhance the role of our specialty, and advance the health of our patients.

Let’s not be mistaken. These pandemics add to a growing list of interwoven issues in our society. In 2018, I wrote a piece on the role of hospitalists in addressing rural health disparities.¹ According to the Sheps Center for Health Services Research, 129 rural hospitals have closed since 2010, closures that have accelerated with the COVID-19 pandemic.² More than ever, we must stand above our inner and outer conflicts and be united to promote the health of our nation during these pandemics, because “all policy is health policy.”³

Most SHM presidents and president-elects come in with a platform, a priority for the specialty and for the society. This year, the platform has chosen us. For 20 years, I have witnessed SHM be a workshop for our members to address the pressing needs of our specialty and our patients. In 2020, we’ve continued to see SHM as a workshop for our members and a tour de force addressing these pandemics, from just in time publications of research and perspectives in the Journal of Hospital Medicine, to webinars and open access education in the Learning Portal, to advocacy on Capitol Hill. All of that work has been informed by you and for you. While there is still so much to do, we need not be overwhelmed when we do it together.

A score and 4 years ago, Robert Wachter, MD, and Lee Goldman, MD, dubbed us “hospitalists.” A year later, our shared workshop was born. Through one name change and now our first CEO transition from Larry Wellikson, MD, to Eric Howell, MD, SHM will continue to be where hospitalists both adapt and shape our nation through solutions that put an end to these pandemics. Let’s recommit to this work together.

Dr. Siy is division medical director, hospital specialties, in the departments of hospital medicine and community senior and palliative care, at HealthPartners in Bloomington, Minn. He is president-elect of SHM.

Sources

1. Hardeman RR et al. Stolen Breaths. N Engl J Med. 2020 Jul 16;383:197-9.

2. Siy JC. Reviving Rural Health Care. The Hospitalist. 2018 Sep 24.

3. The Cecil G. Sheps Center For Health Services Research. Rural Hospital Closures. 2014. https://www.shepscenter.unc.edu/programs-projects/rural-health/rural-hospital-closures/