Friday, September 4, 2026

Megan White Was a 2-Pound NICU Baby. Dr. Stephen Ragatz Helped Care for Her. 42 Years Later, She Came Back as His Colleague.

One Patient Became a Nurse. Why Can’t Healthcare Systems Learn the Same Way?



“Although we are in different systems, none of us compete in quality, safety or equity. There is no competition. We all win together there.”Jason Mitchell, MD, Executive Vice President and Chief Medical Officer, Geisinger

 

On February 5, 1984, Megan White entered the world 12 weeks early.

She was born at 29 weeks.

She weighed just 2 pounds, 8 ounces.

Her first home was not a nursery.

It was the neonatal intensive care unit at Ascension St. Joseph Hospital in Milwaukee.

She needed a ventilator.

Her parents had a premature baby.

The medical team had a fragile patient.

And one of the physicians involved in her care was Dr. Stephen Ragatz, a neonatologist who has worked at the hospital for nearly 45 years.

Then something happened that no revenue-cycle dashboard can measure.

Megan grew up.

She survived.

She became a nurse.

And eventually, she returned to the very hospital where her life began.

Not as a patient.

As a NICU nurse.

Today, Megan White has spent 16 years caring for premature infants.

And she works alongside some of the physicians who once cared for her.

Including Dr. Stephen Ragatz.

Think about that.

The 2-pound, 8-ounce baby became the healthcare professional standing on the other side of the incubator.

The patient became the caregiver.

The person who once needed the system became part of the system.

That is an extraordinary human story.

But there is another lesson hiding inside it.

One that has almost nothing to do with neonatology.

And everything to do with how we run medical practices.

Because healthcare has a strange habit.

We talk about patient care as the mission.

Then we build administrative systems that sometimes make delivering that care unnecessarily difficult.

We tell physicians to focus on patients.

Then give them documentation burdens.

We tell nurses to focus on patients.

Then bury them in workflows.

We tell independent practice owners to stay focused on medicine.

Then hand them a revenue cycle that requires the investigative skills of Sherlock Holmes and the patience of a saint.

And when the system breaks?

We call it a billing problem.

I think that's too simple.

The revenue cycle is part of the clinical infrastructure.

Not because billing is medicine.

It isn't.

But because sustainable medicine requires sustainable operations.

And sustainable operations depend on information.

That is where Megan White's story unexpectedly connects to medical billing.


The uncomfortable question

Here is my question for physicians and clinic owners:

What if your billing problem isn't really a billing problem?

What if it started much earlier?

At registration.

At eligibility verification.

At authorization.

At documentation.

At coding.

At the handoff between clinical and administrative teams.

What if the denial you are working today was created three weeks ago?

Or three months ago?

What if your biller is not failing?

What if you are asking the biller to repair a problem the system created upstream?

This is where I think healthcare needs a different conversation.

We have become very good at fixing problems after they become claims.

We need to become much better at preventing them before they become claims.


The great healthcare repair shop

Consider the typical revenue cycle.

A patient arrives.

The front desk verifies insurance.

The physician sees the patient.

The physician documents the encounter.

Someone codes it.

Someone submits the claim.

The payer processes it.

Then, perhaps, the fax machine lights up with bad news.

Denied.

Pending.

Incorrect.

Missing information.

Authorization required.

Modifier issue.

Medical necessity question.

Duplicate.

Timely filing.

Wrong payer.

Wrong patient.

Wrong something.

Now the practice starts repairing.

The biller investigates.

The coder reviews.

The physician gets a query.

The payer gets called.

An appeal is submitted.

A corrected claim goes out.

Everyone celebrates when the payment finally arrives.

And then we do it again tomorrow.

This is not necessarily a people problem.

It is often a system-design problem.

We have built an enormous healthcare repair shop.

And then we congratulate ourselves for becoming very efficient at repairing things.

That's a little like designing a leaky roof and then celebrating how quickly you mop the floor.


Megan White gives us a different way to think

Megan's story is about continuity.

Her care did not end when she left the NICU.

The experience became part of her life.

Eventually, it influenced her career.

She came back and became part of the next generation of care.

Healthcare leaders should think about operations the same way.

An encounter should not be an isolated event.

It should create a useful information trail.

Clinical intent → documentation → coding → claim → payment → learning → better future workflow.

That last word matters.

Learning.

Too many revenue cycles stop at payment.

The claim gets paid.

The file gets closed.

The team moves on.

But the organization learned almost nothing.

Then the same denial appears next Tuesday.

And Wednesday.

And Friday.

At some point, that stops being bad luck.

It becomes a process.


The biggest myth in medical billing

Here is one of my favorite myths:

"We just need a better biller."

Sometimes you do.

Great billing professionals are incredibly valuable.

But even the best biller has limits.

A biller cannot reliably recover clinical intent that was never captured.

A biller cannot control a payer's policy.

A biller cannot fix a confusing EHR workflow.

A biller cannot permanently solve a recurring documentation problem by correcting the same claim 200 times.

And a biller certainly shouldn't need to become the institutional memory of every payer rule in America.

That isn't a workflow.

That's survival.


The second myth

"We need more staff."

Maybe.

But before adding another person, ask:

How much of our staff's workload exists because our process creates avoidable work?

That question can be uncomfortable.

Suppose five employees spend several hours every week correcting the same category of errors.

Hiring another employee may increase capacity.

It does not necessarily eliminate the error.

You have increased the size of the bucket.

You haven't fixed the hole.


The third myth

"AI will fix medical billing."

This one is particularly fashionable.

And particularly dangerous when oversimplified.

AI can absolutely help.

It can identify patterns.

Classify information.

Flag inconsistencies.

Assist with coding workflows.

Surface anomalies.

Summarize documentation.

Predict potential problems.

Prioritize work.

But AI is not magic dust.

If the underlying information is incomplete, inconsistent, or poorly structured, AI doesn't automatically transform it into truth.

Better intelligence requires better information.

That is why I believe the more important question is not:

"Where can we add AI?"

It is:

"Where can we improve the information before AI ever touches it?"


The real problem may be upstream

This is the thesis behind what I am building with OnnX.

Healthcare billing is often treated as a downstream optimization problem.

I see it differently.

It is frequently an upstream data-quality problem.

Think about the chain:

Patient

Encounter

Clinical intent

Documentation

Coding

Claim

Payer

Payment

Every arrow is a potential failure point.

The farther downstream you discover the problem, the more expensive it can become to fix.

That's why I am interested in moving intelligence upstream.

Not replacing physicians.

Not replacing clinical judgment.

Not creating another dashboard nobody opens.

But helping practices identify potential problems earlier.


Why this matters right now

The timing is important.

This week, MGMA reported that fewer than one in 10 medical practices saw faster prior-authorization turnaround times in 2026, while 44% of medical group leaders reported that payer turnaround had become slower.

The AMA has also documented the continuing administrative burden of prior authorization on physicians and their teams.

And the policy environment isn't exactly getting boring.

CMS continues to update payment and coding policies.

The proposed 2027 Medicare Physician Fee Schedule has generated concern among physician organizations about payment changes, including proposed treatment of certain same-day E/M services.

There are also ongoing debates about coding structures and how physicians are paid.

Meanwhile, practices still have patients waiting in examination rooms.

The contradiction is obvious.

The clinical environment changes quickly. The administrative infrastructure often doesn't.


The statistic that should bother practice owners

The AMA has reported that physicians and their staff spend substantial time dealing with prior authorization, with physicians reporting an average of 40 prior authorizations per week and roughly 13 hours of physician and staff time per week devoted to the process.

Even more striking:

94% of surveyed physicians said prior authorization contributes to burnout.

95% said it delays necessary care.

79% reported that patients sometimes abandon treatment because of authorization problems.

Those aren't just administrative statistics.

They're human statistics.

Every hour consumed by avoidable administrative work is an hour that cannot be spent doing something else.

Seeing another patient.

Calling a patient.

Reviewing a complex case.

Training a staff member.

Going home on time.

Having dinner with your family.

Healthcare loves to measure dollars.

We should also measure attention.

Because attention is finite.


Expert perspective: Dr. Jill Jin

Jill Jin, MD, MPH, has contributed to AMA education around outpatient documentation and coding.

The lesson isn't "write more."

It is almost the opposite.

Write what matters.

Documentation should tell the clinical story clearly enough to support the service provided.

That means capturing the reasoning that matters.

What problem was addressed?

What information was considered?

What decisions were made?

What risks mattered?

What was the plan?

The objective isn't to produce the longest note in the building.

Nobody wins a Pulitzer Prize for a 14-page progress note.

Longer is not automatically better.

Clearer is better.


Expert perspective: Dr. Jeannine Engel

Jeannine Engel, MD, MACP, has also contributed to AMA education on documentation and coding.

The practical lesson for physicians is to understand what actually drives coding rather than relying on myths.

A physician should not document unnecessary material simply because someone once said:

"More words equals more reimbursement."

That's not a sound strategy.

The better strategy is:

accurate clinical reasoning + appropriate documentation + correct coding.

Simple.

But healthcare has a talent for making simple things complicated.


Expert perspective: Dr. Kevin D. Hopkins

Kevin D. Hopkins, MD, a family medicine physician and physician leader involved in AMA documentation and coding education, reinforces the importance of making documentation and coding workflows understandable to physicians.

That matters because technology should serve the clinical workflow.

Not the other way around.

If a system forces physicians to think like coders while they're trying to think like physicians, something has gone wrong.

The software should carry more of the administrative burden.

The clinician should retain the clinical judgment.


Here's my contrarian take

I think healthcare has confused documentation volume with information quality.

And it has confused billing activity with revenue-cycle performance.

Those aren't the same thing.

A practice can have hundreds of employees touching claims and still have a weak revenue cycle.

A practice can have sophisticated software and still have poor data.

A practice can submit thousands of claims and still leak revenue.

And a practice can have a high collection rate while quietly accumulating operational problems.

Activity is not performance.

Work is not necessarily progress.

That distinction is crucial.


What should physicians actually measure?

Forget the giant dashboard with 47 metrics.

Start with the basics.

Clean-claim rate

How many claims are accepted without avoidable corrections?

Denial rate

How frequently are claims denied?

Denial dollars

How much money is represented by those denials?

Days in A/R

How long does earned revenue remain outstanding?

Underpayment rate

Are payments consistent with contractual expectations?

Correction volume

How many claims require human intervention?

Root-cause concentration

Are a few recurring problems creating most of the leakage?

That final metric is particularly powerful.

Because concentration creates leverage.

If three problems create 60% of your avoidable administrative work, you don't need a hundred projects.

You need three good projects.


A simple experiment for your practice

Try this next week.

Take your last 100 denied claims.

Don't appeal them yet.

First categorize them.

Use buckets such as:

Eligibility

Authorization

Documentation

Coding

Modifier

Medical necessity

Duplicate

Timely filing

Payer processing

Other

Then ask:

Which three categories create the most financial damage?

Now ask the more important question:

Where did those problems begin?

Not where they were discovered.

Where did they begin?

That's your leverage point.


A practical 30-day revenue-cycle reset

Days 1–7: Stop guessing

Pull 90 days of claims and payment data.

Identify:

Top payers.

Top denial reasons.

Top dollar losses.

A/R aging.

Correction volume.

Underpayments.

Do not start by buying software.

Start by understanding the problem.


Days 8–14: Find the root

Choose your top three problems.

For each one, trace the workflow backward.

Where did the information originate?

Who entered it?

Who changed it?

Who interpreted it?

Where was the first opportunity to catch the problem?

You are looking for the first failure, not the last person who touched the claim.


Days 15–21: Fix one workflow

Pick one.

Maybe eligibility.

Maybe authorization.

Maybe documentation.

Maybe coding.

Maybe claim validation.

Don't redesign your entire practice.

Healthcare projects have a funny habit of becoming dissertations.

Keep it small.


Days 22–30: Measure again

Did the denial rate change?

Did correction volume fall?

Did staff time improve?

Did A/R improve?

Did physicians experience less friction?

If yes, repeat.

If no, learn.

Then adjust.


The physician's role

Physicians should not become billing experts.

But physicians should understand the financial consequences of clinical information.

That distinction matters.

A physician doesn't need to memorize every payer rule.

But they should understand:

Why documentation matters.

Why medical necessity matters.

Why coding accuracy matters.

Why incomplete information creates downstream work.

Why payer variation matters.

And why a recurring billing problem may indicate a workflow problem rather than an individual employee problem.

That is enough to make better decisions.


The clinic owner's role

Clinic owners have a different responsibility.

They need visibility.

You should know:

Where revenue is leaking.

Why it is leaking.

Who is spending time fixing it.

How often it happens.

Whether it is preventable.

And perhaps most importantly:

Whether the problem is getting better.

If your only financial metric is:

"Did we collect enough this month?"

you're looking in the rearview mirror.


The technology founder's responsibility

Healthcare founders have their own trap.

We love features.

Dashboards.

Integrations.

AI.

Automation.

Predictive analytics.

Agents.

APIs.

Beautiful interfaces.

But physicians don't wake up thinking:

"I hope someone gives me another dashboard today."

They wake up thinking:

"I have 24 patients."

Technology has to respect that reality.

The best healthcare technology often does something surprisingly unglamorous:

It removes work.

That should be the benchmark.

Not:

"How sophisticated is the technology?"

But:

"How much unnecessary friction disappeared?"


What OnnX is trying to change

OnnX is being built around a simple idea:

Make the revenue cycle more predictable by improving the information and workflow upstream.

The goal isn't to make physicians think about billing more.

It's to make them think about it less.

That means looking for opportunities to:

identify preventable problems earlier

reduce repetitive billing work

surface payer patterns

improve data consistency

connect clinical information with reimbursement workflows

reduce avoidable claim friction

And ultimately:

help independent practices keep more of the revenue they have legitimately earned.

No magic.

No promise that every denial disappears.

No suggestion that AI replaces judgment.

Just better infrastructure.


What about the patient?

This is where the Megan White story comes back.

A medical practice is not a factory.

The output isn't claims.

The output is care.

Claims are part of the machinery that finances that care.

That distinction matters.

If billing consumes excessive staff time, someone pays.

If physicians spend hours fixing documentation issues, someone pays.

If claims sit unresolved for months, someone pays.

If independent practices become financially unsustainable, communities pay.

And eventually patients may pay through reduced access, fewer services, longer waits, or consolidation.

That's why revenue-cycle improvement isn't merely about making owners richer.

It can be about protecting access to independent medical care.


The human lesson

Megan White's story is extraordinary because it closes a circle.

A baby entered a hospital.

A team cared for her.

She survived.

She grew.

She chose healthcare.

She returned.

And now she helps other families.

Dr. Stephen Ragatz once saw Megan as a premature newborn.

Today, he sees her as a colleague.

That is what healthcare can look like at its best.

Not a transaction.

A continuum.

And that is how I think we should approach healthcare operations.

Not as isolated events.

But as connected systems.

Encounter → information → decision → documentation → reimbursement → learning → better care.

When the chain works, everybody benefits.

When it doesn't, everybody feels the friction.


The bigger opportunity

There is a bigger healthcare question hiding underneath all of this.

We spend enormous amounts of money trying to improve medicine.

But how much attention do we give to the systems that allow physicians to practice medicine sustainably?

We fund new therapies.

New devices.

New diagnostics.

New AI models.

New digital platforms.

All valuable.

But sometimes the innovation opportunity is less glamorous.

Fix the handoff.

Fix the data.

Fix the workflow.

Fix the feedback loop.

Remove the unnecessary step.

Make the system easier for the human being actually using it.

That's innovation too.

Maybe especially so.


Ethical considerations

Revenue optimization needs a boundary.

That boundary is truth.

The objective should never be:

"How do we make this encounter pay more?"

The objective should be:

"How do we accurately represent the care that actually occurred?"

Those are very different questions.

Technology should never encourage unsupported coding.

Physicians should never alter clinical decisions for reimbursement.

Documentation should not be manufactured after the fact.

AI recommendations should remain subject to appropriate human oversight.

And practices need appropriate safeguards around patient information, privacy, security, and compliance.

Automation does not eliminate responsibility.

It increases the importance of knowing who is accountable.


Legal and compliance considerations

Medical billing operates inside a complex regulatory environment.

Depending on the practice and payer mix, considerations may include:

HIPAA and privacy requirements

coding compliance

medical necessity

payer contracts

False Claims Act risk

fraud and abuse laws

overpayment obligations

documentation requirements

audit readiness

AI governance

vendor contracts and business associate agreements

The details matter.

A technology platform should not be viewed as a compliance shield.

Physicians and organizations remain responsible for appropriate oversight.

The safest approach is not to avoid technology.

It is to implement technology with clear governance, auditability, appropriate access controls, human oversight, and documented processes.


Tools and resources

Physicians don't need to build a NASA mission-control center.

Start with a few useful tools.

Revenue-cycle dashboard

Track the metrics that actually affect your practice.

Denial log

Record the reason, payer, code, dollar amount, root cause, and resolution.

Payer matrix

Maintain a current reference for important payer-specific requirements.

Documentation education

Give physicians short, practical education rather than giant coding manuals.

CMS resources

Use authoritative CMS payment and coding resources when evaluating Medicare requirements and payment policies. CMS maintains its Physician Fee Schedule tools and payment information online.

AMA resources

The AMA maintains resources for private practices, including guidance on improving revenue-cycle processes.

Weekly review

Thirty minutes.

Three questions:

What went wrong?

Why?

How do we stop it happening again?


The future of medical billing

I don't think the future is humans versus machines.

That's the wrong argument.

The future is probably:

better information + automation + human judgment.

AI can help analyze patterns.

Automation can handle repetitive work.

Software can surface exceptions.

But physicians still make clinical decisions.

People still oversee important workflows.

Patients still need empathy.

And someone still needs to ask:

"Does this make sense?"

That question may be the most valuable piece of technology in healthcare.

It is called judgment.


A future worth building

Imagine a practice where:

A potential eligibility problem is identified before the visit.

A documentation gap is surfaced before claim submission.

A recurring payer pattern is detected automatically.

A likely claim problem is flagged before it becomes a denial.

A staff member spends five minutes reviewing an exception instead of an hour repairing it.

A physician receives useful feedback rather than another generic warning.

The system learns from previous outcomes.

And the owner can see where revenue is being lost without opening 11 different spreadsheets.

That is not science fiction.

Pieces of that future already exist.

The opportunity is connecting them intelligently.


What I believe

I believe healthcare has spent too much time asking:

"How do we work harder?"

We should ask:

"Why does this work exist?"

I believe physicians should spend more time practicing medicine and less time translating medicine into administrative language.

I believe independent practices deserve technology designed for their realities, not technology designed around enterprise assumptions.

I believe billing should become less mysterious.

I believe AI should reduce administrative friction rather than create another layer of it.

And I believe the best healthcare technology will eventually become almost invisible.

If it works, you don't think about it.

You simply notice that your day is easier.


And that's why Megan White's story matters

Megan White entered Ascension St. Joseph Hospital as a premature baby.

She returned decades later as a nurse.

Dr. Stephen Ragatz saw both versions of her.

The fragile newborn.

The experienced professional.

Same hospital.

Different chapter.

That is the beautiful thing about healthcare.

We rarely know where a patient's story will go.

A patient today may become a nurse tomorrow.

A frightened parent may become an advocate.

A survivor may become a researcher.

A former patient may become a physician.

The encounter is only one chapter.

The patient is the whole story.

And our systems should be designed accordingly.

That includes our revenue cycle.

Because if the administrative infrastructure becomes so complicated that physicians spend more time fighting the system than caring for people, we've lost sight of the point.

The goal isn't more claims.

More codes.

More dashboards.

More staff.

More software.

The goal is better healthcare.

And sometimes, the best way to improve healthcare is to remove the friction that keeps good people from doing their best work.


Final Thoughts: Stop repairing what you could prevent

Maybe the biggest mistake in revenue-cycle management is that we have become comfortable with repair.

We accept denials.

We accept corrections.

We accept appeals.

We accept payer calls.

We accept administrative waste.

We accept that physicians will spend evenings finishing documentation.

We accept that staff will chase money that has already been earned.

We call it "the way healthcare works."

I'm not convinced.

Healthcare is complicated. That doesn't mean healthcare has to be unnecessarily complicated.

Megan White's story reminds us that healthcare is ultimately about continuity.

One generation cares for the next.

One patient becomes a caregiver.

One clinical encounter can influence an entire life.

Our operational systems should support that continuity rather than compete with it.

The future of medical billing is not more bureaucracy.

It is better information.

It is smarter workflows.

It is fewer preventable problems.

And most importantly:

It is giving physicians back the attention they never should have had to surrender in the first place.


Get Involved: Your Practice Has a Story Too

Here's the provocative question I'd like to leave you with:

What is the most ridiculous recurring billing problem your practice has learned to tolerate because everyone assumes "that's just healthcare"?

Maybe it's a denial.

Maybe it's an authorization.

Maybe it's a payer rule.

Maybe it's a documentation problem.

Maybe it's a spreadsheet someone built five years ago that has somehow become mission-critical.

Tell me about it.

Leave a comment.

Your experience may help another physician recognize a problem they've been quietly tolerating too.

And if this perspective resonates, share or repost this article with another physician, practice owner, medical director, or healthcare operator.

The goal isn't to complain about the system.

It is to understand it well enough to improve it.

Ask the uncomfortable question.

Share what you've learned.

Help build a healthcare system where technology removes friction instead of creating more of it.


Continue the Conversation

Healthcare improves when people in the field share what actually works.

I write about medicine, medical billing, healthcare operations, medical technology, entrepreneurship, and practical innovation from the perspective of a physician and healthcare entrepreneur.

For additional perspectives and practical strategies, explore:

Visit Dr. Cham's website
Listen on Spotify
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Knowledge creates leverage. The next improvement in your practice may begin with one better question.


Free Resource

Want a practical starting point?

Visit the Featured section of my LinkedIn profile for a free resource. No signup required.

Use it to explore practical approaches to revenue-cycle management, medical billing, documentation, and reducing administrative friction in independent practice.

And if this article made you rethink billing even a little:

Consider reposting it.

A physician somewhere is probably dealing with the same problem.

Your repost might be the thing that makes them question it.


About the Author

Dr. Daniel Cham is a physician, medical consultant, healthcare entrepreneur, and founder of OnnX, an AI-powered medical billing SaaS focused on helping small and medium-sized medical practices reduce administrative friction and improve revenue-cycle performance.

His work sits at the intersection of clinical medicine, healthcare management, medical technology, revenue-cycle strategy, and practice operations.

Dr. Cham focuses on practical solutions that help physicians and healthcare organizations navigate increasingly complex administrative environments while keeping the focus where it belongs: patient care.

Connect with Dr. Daniel Cham on LinkedIn


Disclaimer

This article is intended solely for general educational and informational purposes. It does not constitute medical, legal, coding, compliance, financial, or reimbursement advice. Healthcare regulations, payer policies, contracts, and coding requirements can vary by situation and change over time. Readers should consult appropriately qualified professionals for guidance regarding their particular circumstances.


Three Current References

Megan White's remarkable journey from a 29-week, 2-pound-8-ounce premature infant to a NICU nurse at the same Milwaukee hospital provides the human story at the center of this article.
Read Megan White's story

MGMA's latest data illustrates the continuing administrative burden surrounding prior authorization and the difficulty practices are having obtaining faster payer responses.

Read MGMA’s Latest Data

Recent CMS payment and coding developments demonstrate why physician practices need adaptable revenue-cycle workflows rather than static processes.
Review CMS Physician Fee Schedule resources


Final takeaway: Megan White's story isn't really about a premature baby who became a nurse. It is about what happens when healthcare succeeds so completely that the patient eventually becomes part of the next generation of care.

That's the standard we should want from every part of healthcare—including the systems that finance it.

Don't just work the denial. Find the reason it exists.

Don't just add another tool. Remove a layer of friction.

Don't just optimize the claim. Build a practice where fewer claims need rescuing.

 

#Healthcare #MedicalBilling #RevenueCycleManagement #RCM #Physicians #PhysicianPractice #PrivatePractice #HealthcareInnovation #HealthTech #MedicalTechnology #HealthcareEntrepreneurship #MedicalCoding #ClinicalDocumentation #PracticeManagement #HealthcareLeadership #IndependentPractice #PhysicianEntrepreneur #HealthcareAI #DigitalHealth #PatientCare #HealthcareOperations #RevenueCycle #MedicalPractice #HealthcareTransformation #OnnX

 

Thursday, September 3, 2026

Mark Andrew Collins Asked for Help. His Story Exposes a Healthcare Handoff Problem Physicians Can’t Afford to Ignore.

The problem isn't always a lack of care. Sometimes it's what happens between the people who provide it.



“Redesigning workflows attacks the source of distress instead of giving people skills to cope with it.”Dr. Liz Harry, Chief Well-Being Officer, Michigan Medicine, quoted by the American Medical Association

 

 

Mark Andrew Collins was 26 years old when he finally asked for help.

That sentence should bother every person who works in healthcare.

Not because asking for help guarantees recovery.

It doesn't.

Not because every emergency department can solve addiction in one visit.

It can't.

And not because Mark's story, by itself, proves that a particular clinician or hospital caused his death.

It doesn't.

But because Mark did something healthcare constantly tells patients to do.

He raised his hand.

He said, in effect:

I need help.

And then the system had to decide what happened next.

That is where this story becomes much bigger than addiction.

It becomes a story about handoffs.

And healthcare has a handoff problem.


Nine Days

Diane Santos had only nine days between learning about her son's opioid addiction and finding him dead.

Nine days.

There were tears.

Confessions.

Phone calls.

And, importantly, hope.

Mark wanted treatment.

According to his mother, he wanted to stop using drugs. He wanted to understand why he was using them. He had researched treatment and was looking forward to getting help, including therapy.

He was not simply refusing care.

He was looking for it.

He had even secured an appointment for early January.

The problem was that January was still weeks away.

Then withdrawal became severe.

Diane asked whether he wanted to go to the emergency department.

Eventually, he said yes.

They went to Backus Hospital in Norwich, Connecticut.

According to Santos' account, Mark told hospital staff that he had used fentanyl that morning.

He was evaluated.

He was not admitted.

A recovery coach spoke with him and provided a number to call the next day for treatment access.

Mark went home.

The next day, he called.

There was no immediate treatment available.

The plan was to keep trying.

The following morning, Diane went to wake her son.

His bedroom door was locked.

There was no answer.

She opened it.

Mark was on the floor.

He was cold.

He was gone.

He died on December 30, 2023, at age 26. His obituary identifies him as Mark Andrew Collins and says he had asked for help overcoming addiction.

The recent Connecticut reporting says his death occurred roughly 36 hours after his emergency-department visit.

That timeline is devastating.

But there is something else about the story that deserves attention.


The Most Dangerous Word in Healthcare

It may not be “denied.”

It may not be “delayed.”

It may not even be “error.”

It may be:

“Next.”

The patient goes to the next person.

The referral goes to the next department.

The authorization goes to the next queue.

The claim goes to the next system.

The denial goes to the next worklist.

The phone call goes to the next representative.

The patient waits.

The physician assumes someone else is handling it.

The staff member assumes the physician handled it.

The payer assumes the documentation was sufficient.

The practice assumes the payer received everything.

Everybody is busy.

Everybody is doing something.

And somehow, nobody owns the outcome.

That is the paradox of modern healthcare.

We have more specialists, more software, more portals, more protocols, more dashboards, more data and more artificial intelligence than ever.

Yet we can still lose a human being between two perfectly documented steps.


A Referral Is Not Treatment

This is where Mark's story becomes uncomfortable.

A healthcare organization can truthfully say:

“We connected the patient with a recovery resource.”

That sounds like action.

But did the patient actually receive treatment?

Those are not the same thing.

A phone number is not treatment.

A referral is not treatment.

An appointment request is not treatment.

A portal message is not treatment.

A discharge instruction is not treatment.

A task placed into someone's queue is not treatment.

The outcome is what matters.

And this distinction is not unique to addiction.

Consider a patient with a suspicious imaging result.

The scan is completed.

The radiologist reports an abnormality.

The report enters the EHR.

The ordering physician is notified.

A message is generated.

The patient is told to follow up.

Everyone can point to a completed action.

But six months later, nobody can answer a simple question:

Did the patient actually receive the follow-up care?

That is a handoff failure.

Or consider a prior authorization.

The physician orders a medically necessary procedure.

The staff submits the authorization.

The payer requests additional documentation.

Someone assumes someone else responded.

The authorization expires.

The procedure is delayed.

Technically, the prior authorization workflow existed.

Operationally, it failed.

Healthcare loves confusing activity with completion.

We count tasks.

We should count outcomes.


And Then There Is Medical Billing

This is where the conversation becomes particularly interesting for physicians.

Because the exact same structural problem exists in revenue cycle management.

A patient receives care.

But the money doesn't automatically follow the care.

Why?

Because healthcare revenue is also a chain of handoffs.

Patient → registration → eligibility → encounter → documentation → coding → claim → payer → adjudication → payment → posting → reconciliation.

One broken connection can contaminate everything downstream.

And here is the uncomfortable part:

Most healthcare technology is designed to optimize individual steps.

Better scheduling.

Better documentation.

Better coding.

Better clearinghouses.

Better denial management.

Better dashboards.

Better AI.

Better analytics.

Better portals.

But we keep asking:

“How do we make this step faster?”

The more important question is:

“Why did this information have to travel through six disconnected steps in the first place?”

That's a different question.

And it leads to a different kind of healthcare technology.


Healthcare Has a Favorite Illusion

It is called workflow.

Healthcare organizations love workflows.

There is a workflow for registration.

A workflow for referrals.

A workflow for prior authorization.

A workflow for documentation.

A workflow for coding.

A workflow for claims.

A workflow for denials.

A workflow for appeals.

Soon we will probably have a workflow for managing the workflows.

At some point, someone will build an AI agent to remind another AI agent to check whether the first AI agent completed its task.

We will call it innovation.

And someone will put it on a conference stage.

The problem isn't that workflows are bad.

The problem is that we often automate fragmentation instead of eliminating it.

Automation can make a broken process faster.

It can also make a broken process fail at scale.


The Contrarian View: AI Is Not the Solution to Bad Data

This is where the current AI conversation gets backward.

Healthcare is rushing to put AI everywhere.

AI coding.

AI clinical documentation.

AI prior authorization.

AI denial prediction.

AI scheduling.

AI patient messaging.

AI revenue-cycle management.

And yes, these tools can be useful.

But there is a fundamental problem.

AI cannot manufacture trustworthy context from missing information.

If the underlying data is incomplete, ambiguous, inconsistent or disconnected, the AI may simply produce a faster interpretation of bad inputs.

Garbage in, garbage out is old.

The modern version is:

Garbage in, beautifully summarized.

That's progress of a sort.

But it isn't transformation.


The Real Problem Is Upstream

Suppose a physician documents:

“Patient presents with worsening symptoms. Continue management.”

That sentence may be clinically understandable to the physician.

But downstream, it may be remarkably unhelpful.

The coder needs specificity.

The billing system needs specificity.

The payer may need specificity.

The quality system may need specificity.

The next clinician may need specificity.

The patient may need specificity.

The problem didn't begin with the coder.

It began when the information was captured.

This is why I believe healthcare billing is fundamentally a data-quality problem before it is a tooling problem.

The claim is simply the final expression of everything that happened upstream.

If the information is incomplete at the point of capture, somebody downstream will eventually pay for it.

Sometimes the cost is a denial.

Sometimes it is staff time.

Sometimes it is a delayed payment.

Sometimes it is an appeal.

Sometimes it is a frustrated patient.

And in clinical care, the consequences can be much more serious.


The Five Handoffs Every Practice Should Audit

Forget the software demo for a moment.

Walk through the patient journey.

1. Patient → Front Desk

Did the practice capture the information correctly?

Or did someone type something quickly because the waiting room was full?

Measure: registration accuracy.

 

2. Front Desk → Clinical Team

Did the clinical team receive the information that actually matters?

Or did important context disappear between intake and the exam room?

Measure: missing or corrected intake data.

 

3. Clinical Encounter → Documentation

Did the medical record accurately capture the service delivered?

Not merely enough to close the note.

Enough to support the clinical, operational and financial consequences of the encounter.

Measure: documentation completeness and charge lag.

 

4. Documentation → Claim

Did the structured information actually support the claim?

Or is the billing team reconstructing the encounter after the fact?

Measure: first-pass yield, edits and preventable denials.

 

5. Claim → Payment

Did the claim become money?

Or did it become another work queue?

Measure: clean-claim rate, denial rate, days in A/R and avoidable rework.


The Billing Department Is Often Being Asked to Solve a Problem It Didn't Create

This may be the most underappreciated issue in medical billing.

A claim gets denied.

So what happens?

Someone blames billing.

The biller opens the chart.

Reads the note.

Looks for missing information.

Sends a message.

Waits.

Contacts the physician.

The physician modifies or clarifies documentation.

The claim gets corrected.

Then everyone celebrates.

The claim was fixed.

But was the system fixed?

No.

The system simply learned how to repair the damage.

That is reactive healthcare.

And reactive healthcare is expensive.


The Cheapest Denial Is the One That Never Exists

This sounds obvious.

It isn't how most organizations operate.

Many revenue-cycle teams are optimized around working denials.

How many were received?

How quickly were they touched?

How many were appealed?

How many dollars were recovered?

Those are useful metrics.

But they measure the cost of failure.

A more interesting question is:

Why did the denial happen in the first place?

Was the patient's insurance information wrong?

Was eligibility checked too late?

Was the authorization missing?

Was the diagnosis insufficiently supported?

Was the procedure documentation incomplete?

Was the payer rule misunderstood?

Was the wrong payer pathway used?

Was information available in one system but invisible to another?

The denial is the symptom.

The upstream data failure is the disease.


This Is Where Healthcare Gets Weird

Imagine an airline.

A passenger buys a ticket.

The airline checks the passenger.

The passenger boards.

The aircraft departs.

Then, after landing, someone discovers that the airline never actually recorded where the passenger was supposed to go.

Nobody would say:

“Don't worry. We have a really sophisticated airport team that specializes in finding passengers after they land.”

Yet healthcare routinely operates this way.

We build enormous departments to repair problems that should have been prevented earlier.

Then we congratulate ourselves for recovering 80% of the lost revenue.

That is not efficiency.

That's organized recovery from preventable confusion.


Mark's Story Forces a Bigger Question

Diane Santos has spent the years since her son's death advocating for better treatment and sharing his story.

The recent reporting says she later returned to Backus Hospital, where she found an emergency-department protocol for initiating buprenorphine that she believed could have helped Mark. She brought the issue to administrators and says changes were subsequently made.

That part of the story matters enormously.

Because it introduces a concept healthcare often struggles with:

The protocol existed.

The question was whether the system reliably translated the protocol into action.

That is a very different problem from not having a protocol.

And it is a problem that exists everywhere.

You can have:

  • a policy nobody follows,
  • a dashboard nobody checks,
  • an alert everyone ignores,
  • a referral nobody closes,
  • a claim nobody reconciles,
  • a denial nobody learns from,
  • and an AI tool nobody actually integrates into the workflow.

Healthcare doesn't merely need knowledge.

It needs execution.


Dr. Gail D'Onofrio's Point Is Bigger Than Addiction

Emergency physician and addiction-medicine expert Dr. Gail D'Onofrio has argued for a more routine approach to initiating treatment for opioid use disorder in emergency departments.

In the recent reporting, she described the need for a standardized process involving medication, harm reduction and continued treatment. She also acknowledged the complexity of emergency-department operations and the reluctance to legislate clinical medicine.

That tension is important.

Because healthcare has two competing instincts.

Standardize everything.

And:

Don't turn medicine into a checklist.

Both instincts are reasonable.

The answer isn't to replace physicians with protocols.

The answer is to make the right clinical action easier to execute reliably while preserving clinical judgment.

That distinction matters.

A protocol should support judgment.

It shouldn't replace it.


The Same Principle Applies to Billing

Imagine a physician sees a patient.

The practice already knows:

  • who the patient is,
  • what insurance they have,
  • what appointment they booked,
  • why they came,
  • what services are scheduled,
  • what authorizations are required,
  • what documentation is necessary,
  • what financial responsibility is expected.

Yet these facts often live in different systems.

So humans become the integration layer.

That's the hidden infrastructure of American healthcare.

People copying information from one box into another box.

And then we wonder why administrative costs are so high.


The Human API

Here is my favorite description of modern healthcare administration:

The human API.

When two software systems don't communicate, a person does.

When the EHR doesn't talk to the billing system, someone exports data.

When the payer portal doesn't integrate with the practice workflow, someone logs in.

When documentation doesn't support coding, someone sends a message.

When the claim is rejected, someone investigates.

When the referral isn't completed, someone calls.

When the patient doesn't understand the instructions, someone explains them.

Humans are constantly acting as APIs between disconnected systems.

And humans are expensive APIs.

More importantly:

Humans get tired.


Burnout Isn't Always a Physician Problem

We often talk about physician burnout as though the primary cause is seeing too many patients.

Sometimes it is.

But there is another form of burnout that receives less attention:

workflow absurdity.

The physician enters information.

The nurse re-enters information.

The front desk re-enters information.

The biller interprets information.

The payer requests the same information again.

The patient receives another form.

Then everyone asks why clinicians are exhausted.

Maybe the problem isn't that healthcare workers don't know how to work hard.

Maybe they are working hard on things that should not require human effort in the first place.


The Measurement Trap

Healthcare loves measuring productivity.

Patients per hour.

Claims per day.

Denials worked.

Calls answered.

Prior authorizations completed.

Notes closed.

Revenue collected.

But productivity can become dangerous when the measurement ignores the system.

A billing employee can process 100 claims.

Wonderful.

But what if 30 of them require rework?

A staff member can complete 50 prior authorizations.

Wonderful.

But what if the process requires information that should have been captured automatically?

A physician can close every note before leaving.

Wonderful.

But what if the documentation still fails downstream requirements?

Speed without quality is just faster rework.

And rework is one of healthcare's least celebrated industries.


What Should Physicians Measure Instead?

Start with five questions.

1. Where does information get re-entered?

Every manual re-entry is a potential failure point.

2. Where does responsibility become ambiguous?

If two people think the other person owns the task, nobody owns the task.

3. Where does work leave the system?

Every external portal, fax, spreadsheet or phone call deserves scrutiny.

4. Where are errors discovered?

The later the error appears, the more expensive it usually becomes.

5. What percentage of work is preventive versus corrective?

This may be the most revealing metric of all.

A mature organization doesn't simply become better at fixing mistakes.

It becomes better at preventing the mistakes from being created.


Three Myths Worth Killing

Myth #1: “We need more staff.”

Sometimes you do.

But adding people to a broken workflow can simply create a larger broken workflow.

Before hiring, ask:

What work are we hiring humans to compensate for?


Myth #2: “We need better AI.”

Maybe.

But first ask:

Is the underlying information structured well enough for AI to help?

If not, you may simply automate uncertainty.


Myth #3: “Our denial team is excellent.”

That's great.

But here's the contrarian question:

Why are you measuring how good your organization is at cleaning up preventable mistakes instead of measuring how few mistakes it creates?

The best denial is not the one recovered.

It's the one that never happened.


What a Better Practice Looks Like

A better practice does not necessarily have more software.

It has fewer gaps between systems.

The goal is simple:

Capture better information earlier.

Connect it.

Validate it.

Use it.

And prevent the same information from being repeatedly recreated by different people.

For a physician practice, that means building a chain of continuity:

Patient information → clinical context → documentation → coding → claim → payer response → payment.

Each stage should inherit trustworthy information from the stage before it.

Not a photocopy.

Not a reinterpretation.

Not a manual reconstruction.

Continuity.


The OnnX Thesis

This is the thinking behind what I'm building with OnnX.

I don't believe the future of medical billing is simply:

“Put AI on top of billing.”

That's too shallow.

The bigger opportunity is to move upstream.

Instead of waiting for the claim to fail, identify the missing information before the claim exists.

Instead of asking a biller to interpret a fragmented chart, structure the information closer to the point where it is created.

Instead of making humans the permanent bridge between disconnected systems, make the systems communicate.

Instead of treating billing as a separate department, treat it as the financial expression of the clinical and operational data generated throughout the practice.

That changes the question.

From:

“How do we work more denials?”

to:

“Why did we create the denial?”

From:

“How do we automate billing?”

to:

“How do we make the revenue cycle more deterministic?”

From:

“How can AI replace administrative work?”

to:

“How can better data eliminate unnecessary administrative work?”

That's a much more ambitious goal.

And, in my opinion, a much more useful one.


The Future Isn't More Automation

This may be the most contrarian prediction in this article.

The future of healthcare may not be about more automation.

It may be about less work.

Those are not the same thing.

Automation asks:

Can we make this task happen automatically?

Better system design asks:

Why does this task exist?

That distinction could save healthcare billions.

If a task is unnecessary, automating it is still waste.

If a handoff is unnecessary, automating the handoff is still waste.

If a form exists only because two systems cannot communicate, building an AI that fills out the form is still a workaround.

The ultimate automation is deleting the work.


And That Brings Us Back to Mark

Mark Andrew Collins is not a billing story.

He is not a technology case study.

He should not be reduced to a metaphor for software.

He was a 26-year-old man who wanted help.

His mother, Diane Santos, lost her son and then chose to turn grief into advocacy.

That deserves to remain the center of the story.

But his story also forces healthcare leaders to ask a difficult question:

What happens between “the patient needs help” and “the patient actually receives help”?

Because that space between those two sentences is where handoffs live.

And handoffs are where systems reveal themselves.

Dr. D'Onofrio's argument for making appropriate treatment more routine in emergency care points toward the same principle: don't rely entirely on heroic individuals to make a fragmented system work. Build processes that reliably connect patients to the care they need.

The lesson extends far beyond addiction.

It applies to referrals.

Prior authorizations.

Test results.

Medication reconciliation.

Discharge planning.

Documentation.

Claims.

Payments.

And everything in between.


Healthcare's Most Expensive Employee May Be the Person Who Keeps Fixing the Same Problem

Think about the person in your practice who everyone considers indispensable.

They know which payer portal to use.

They know which physician forgets to document something.

They know which claims are likely to deny.

They know which fax number works.

They know which insurance representative actually answers the phone.

They know the workaround.

They know the workaround for the workaround.

They are brilliant.

They are also a warning sign.

Because when one employee becomes the only person who knows how to make the system work, the organization hasn't created resilience.

It has created institutional dependency.

The goal should not be to eliminate that person's value.

It should be to capture their knowledge and build it into the system.

Otherwise, one vacation can become an operational event.

One resignation can become a crisis.

One missed handoff can become a patient-safety problem.

One bad data field can become a denial avalanche.


The Question Every Physician Should Ask

Not:

“Do we have enough staff?”

Not:

“Do we have an AI tool?”

Not:

“How many claims did we collect?”

Ask this instead:

“Where does responsibility disappear in our practice?”

Then follow the patient.

Follow the information.

Follow the money.

You may discover that the problem isn't one bad employee.

It isn't one bad payer.

It isn't one bad software platform.

It isn't even one bad process.

It is the space between processes.

That is where healthcare loses time.

That is where healthcare loses money.

And sometimes, as Mark Andrew Collins' story painfully reminds us, that is where healthcare can lose something much more important.


A Final Provocation

We often say healthcare needs more compassion.

I agree.

But compassion without execution can become another form of bureaucracy.

The system can care deeply.

The clinicians can care deeply.

The staff can care deeply.

The family can care deeply.

And the patient can still fall through the gap.

Good intentions don't close handoffs. Systems do.

That is why the future of healthcare shouldn't simply be about adding intelligence.

It should be about creating continuity.

Continuity of information.

Continuity of responsibility.

Continuity of care.

Continuity of revenue.

And ultimately:

continuity between what healthcare promises and what healthcare actually delivers.

Diane Santos has said that she continues to tell Mark's story because she wants his life and death to make a difference.

That is perhaps the most important lesson of all.

A tragedy should not become content.

It should become accountability, learning and change.

Mark asked for help.

His story should make us ask whether our systems are designed merely to respond to requests

or actually to close the loop.

Because in healthcare, the difference between those two things can be enormous.

And sometimes, it can be everything.


What This Means for Your Practice Monday Morning

Don't start with another software purchase.

Start with a whiteboard.

Write:

Patient → Front Desk → Clinical → Documentation → Coding → Claim → Payer → Payment

Then ask your team:

Where does information get lost?

Where does somebody re-enter it?

Where does someone wait for someone else?

Where do we discover errors too late?

Where are we paying people to repair problems that better system design could prevent?

Then pick one handoff.

Fix it.

Measure the result.

Repeat.

That's how you move from reactive healthcare to deterministic healthcare.

Not by buying another dashboard.

By removing another failure point.


FAQ

Is Mark Andrew Collins' story evidence that the hospital caused his death?

No. Public reporting describes Santos' account of what happened and the timeline surrounding Mark's death. That information alone does not establish legal or medical causation. Any such conclusion would require review of the complete clinical record and other evidence.

Why use an addiction story to discuss medical billing?

Because the underlying lesson is not addiction-specific.

It is about handoffs, continuity, ownership and information integrity.

Those same structural problems appear in clinical care, prior authorization, documentation, coding, claims and payment.

Is AI the answer?

AI can help, but only when the underlying workflow and data are reliable.

The goal should not be to automate every broken task.

It should be to eliminate unnecessary work and make the remaining work more reliable.

What should practices measure?

Start with:

  • First-pass yield
  • Preventable denial rate
  • Charge lag
  • Days in A/R
  • Documentation corrections
  • Authorization turnaround
  • Manual re-entry
  • Rework volume
  • Exception volume
  • Percentage of problems discovered upstream versus downstream

The most valuable metric may be:

How much work did we prevent from happening?


The Bigger Lesson

Healthcare doesn't have a shortage of intelligence.

It has a shortage of continuity.

We have brilliant physicians.

Dedicated nurses.

Exceptional billers.

Talented administrators.

Sophisticated software.

Powerful AI.

And enormous amounts of data.

Yet we still create systems where each component can work perfectly while the overall patient journey fails.

That's the paradox.

Local optimization can create global dysfunction.

The front desk can be efficient.

The physician can be efficient.

The coder can be efficient.

The billing team can be efficient.

The payer can be efficient.

And the entire system can still be terrible.

Why?

Because healthcare isn't a collection of departments.

It's a chain.

And a chain doesn't become stronger because one link gets smarter.

It becomes stronger when the links actually connect.


About the Author

Dr. Daniel Cham is a physician and medical consultant with experience across medical technology, healthcare management and medical billing. His work focuses on practical solutions to the operational problems that sit at the intersection of clinical care, technology and healthcare economics.

Through OnnX, he is exploring a different approach to medical billing: improving the quality and continuity of information upstream so that revenue-cycle problems can be prevented rather than endlessly repaired downstream.

Connect with Dr. Cham on LinkedIn and follow his work across healthcare technology, medical practice and operational strategy.

Dr. Daniel Cham on LinkedIn


Continue the Conversation

Healthcare is changing quickly.

The people who understand the systems behind the change will be better positioned to shape what comes next.

Knowledge drives progress. Start your journey here.

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Your Turn

Here's the question I want to leave you with:

Where does responsibility disappear inside your healthcare organization?

Is it between the physician and the coder?

The patient and the referral?

The practice and the payer?

The clinical note and the claim?

Or somewhere nobody has thought to look yet?

Tell me in the comments.

If this perspective challenges how you think about healthcare operations, share or repost this article and start the conversation with another physician, practice owner or healthcare leader.

Because maybe the biggest healthcare problem isn't that we don't have enough technology.

Maybe we've simply become very good at automating the gaps between things that should have been connected in the first place.

Mark Andrew Collins asked for help.

His story reminds us that healthcare's job isn't finished when we hand someone a phone number, close a task, submit a claim or move something to the next queue.

The job is finished when the loop is closed.

References

  1. Cris Villalonga-Vivoni, Connecticut Insider / CT Post — September 3, 2026
    “CT man sought help for opioid addiction. His mom found him dead 36 hours later: ‘Now I’m his voice’”
    This is the primary human-interest story behind the article. It documents Mark Andrew Collins’ attempt to seek treatment, his mother Diane Santos’ advocacy, and the broader questions surrounding emergency-department access to opioid-use-disorder treatment.
    Read the Connecticut Insider story
  2. American Medical Association STEPS Forward — September 1, 2026
    “Small Workflow Changes Can Make a Big Impact”
    The AMA's current workflow-improvement discussion is highly relevant to the article's central argument: healthcare organizations can address friction by redesigning workflows rather than simply asking clinicians and staff to absorb more administrative burden.
    Read the AMA STEPS Forward article
  3. Medical Group Management Association (MGMA) — September 2, 2026
    “Fewer than 1 in 10 practices see faster prior auth turnarounds in 2026”
    MGMA reports that 44% of medical-group leaders said prior-authorization turnaround was slower in 2026, while only 7% said it was faster. It also highlights the hidden work surrounding authorizations—status checks, documentation, peer-to-peer reviews, denials, appeals and multiple payer portals.
    Read the MGMA report

#Healthcare #HealthcareLeadership #HealthcareInnovation #PhysicianLeadership #HealthcareOperations #MedicalBilling #RevenueCycleManagement #HealthcareTechnology #HealthTech #PatientSafety #OpioidUseDisorder #AddictionMedicine #WorkflowDesign #HealthcareAI #ClinicalOperations #PhysicianBurnout #MedicalPractice #HealthcareTransformation #HealthEquity #OnnX

 

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