Monday, September 28, 2026

The Most Important Healthcare Outcome Was Never Measured

What Brooklyn Dotson, Michael Waters, and Noah Waters can teach us about medical billing, invisible outcomes, and why healthcare keeps fixing problems after they happen



“Moral agency is getting eroded.” — Kayvan Haddadan, MD

 

Brooklyn Dotson received Michael Waters’s liver. Years later, she fell in love with his brother, Noah. What can their extraordinary story teach us about the problems we discover too late in medical billing?

In a September 27, 2026 essay, physician Kayvan Haddadan, MD, argued that declining reimbursement, increasing patient volume, documentation demands, payer audits, denials, and clawbacks can create a cycle that steadily squeezes the time and autonomy physicians have to practice medicine.

That observation got my attention.

But another healthcare story had been sitting in the back of my mind.

It starts with a little girl named Brooklyn Dotson.

It includes a 10-year-old boy named Michael Waters.

And it eventually brings us to Noah Waters, Michael's younger brother.

The story sounds almost too improbable to be true.

But it is.

In 2003, Brooklyn Dotson was a toddler in Kentucky with alpha-1 antitrypsin deficiency. Her liver was failing. Her mother, Ashley Baker, was told that without a transplant, Brooklyn might have only days to live.

Then a liver became available.

It came from Michael Waters, a 10-year-old boy from Dayton, Ohio, who had been struck by a car and died near his home.

Michael's family honored his wishes.

Two years before his death, Michael had learned about organ donation and told his parents that if something happened to him, he wanted his organs donated.

His mother, Tina Poteet, later said:

“It was Michael’s gift.”

Michael's liver saved Brooklyn's life.

But that was only the beginning.

A few months later, the two families connected.

Brooklyn's mother, Ashley Baker, and Michael's mother, Tina Poteet, exchanged letters.

The families eventually met.

Brooklyn and Noah Waters met when Noah was about six.

They became friends.

The families stayed connected for years.

Brooklyn grew up.

Noah grew up.

They lived separate lives.

They dated other people.

They went to college.

They started careers.

Then something neither family could have predicted happened.

The friendship became a relationship.

Noah proposed to Brooklyn in December 2025.

The little girl who received Michael Waters' liver was now engaged to Michael's younger brother.

The story is extraordinary because nobody could have predicted the outcome when the transplant took place.

Nobody knew where the chain of events would eventually lead.

A donor.

A grieving family.

A liver.

A transplant.

A child surviving.

Two families meeting.

Two children becoming friends.

Two adults falling in love.

One healthcare event.

Decades of consequences.

The Washington Post reported that Brooklyn and Noah were scheduled to marry on September 26, 2026.

Think about that.

The most important outcome of that transplant wasn't necessarily the outcome anyone could have measured at the time.

It was everything that happened afterward.

And that is where this beautiful human story connects to something much less beautiful:

medical billing.

Because healthcare has a habit of measuring the last thing that happened.

The payment.

The denial.

The readmission.

The authorization.

The audit.

The appeal.

The clawback.

The missed appointment.

The incomplete note.

But the event we see at the end often started much earlier.

And sometimes, by the time we see it, we are already too late to prevent it.

That is the problem I think healthcare needs to talk about.

Not just better billing.

Not just faster billing.

Not just more automation.

Better upstream information.


The Question I Would Ask Every Physician Owner

Here is my deliberately uncomfortable question:

What if your denial is not the problem?

What if it is merely the first place the problem becomes visible?

That sounds like semantics.

It isn't.

Imagine a claim gets denied because the documentation does not support the billed service.

The billing department sees the denial.

So the billing department works the denial.

Reasonable.

But now go backward.

Why was the documentation incomplete?

Maybe the physician was seeing 30 patients.

Why 30?

Because reimbursement is under pressure.

Why does that matter?

Because higher volume can compress the time available for documentation.

Why does documentation matter?

Because the payer evaluates the record retrospectively.

Why does that matter?

Because a clinical decision made under time pressure may later be judged through a very different administrative lens.

Now we have a much bigger story.

The denial wasn't born in the billing office.

It may have started with time.

And the time problem may have started with economics.

And the economics may have started with reimbursement pressure.

And suddenly the denial has become the final visible symptom of a much larger system.

That is why simply asking, "How do we appeal this?" can be intellectually lazy.

Sometimes the better question is:

"Where did this problem actually begin?"


Healthcare Loves Firefighters

Healthcare has a strange relationship with heroism.

We love the person who stays late.

The nurse who catches the problem.

The physician who calls the insurer.

The biller who rescues the account.

The practice manager who fixes the mess.

The employee who knows the payer rule nobody else knows.

We call these people indispensable.

And they often are.

But there is a hidden danger.

A great firefighter can make a terrible fire-prevention program look successful.

If your best biller rescues 300 claims every month, that is not necessarily evidence that your revenue cycle is healthy.

It may be evidence that your biller is extraordinary.

Those are very different things.


The Billing Department May Be the Emergency Department of Your Revenue Cycle

Think about that analogy.

The emergency department doesn't create every illness.

It receives the consequences.

Something happened earlier.

A disease developed.

An injury occurred.

A symptom was ignored.

An infection progressed.

Then the patient arrives at the emergency department.

The emergency team responds.

Billing can work the same way.

The billing team receives:

  • Incorrect demographic information
  • Coverage problems
  • Missing authorization
  • Documentation gaps
  • Coding inconsistencies
  • Payer edits
  • Claim rejections
  • Denials
  • Underpayments

Then billing responds.

But what if we stopped thinking of billing as the place where problems are solved?

What if we treated it as the place where system failures are diagnosed?

That would change everything.


The Revenue Cycle Is Not a Billing Department

This may be the most important sentence in the article:

The revenue cycle begins before the claim exists.

It begins when someone schedules the patient.

It continues when eligibility is checked.

It continues when the referral is processed.

It continues when prior authorization is evaluated.

It continues when the patient is registered.

It continues when the physician documents the encounter.

It continues when the diagnosis is captured.

It continues when the procedure is coded.

Only then does the claim enter the billing process.

So why do we act as though billing owns the entire revenue cycle?

Because the biller is the person holding the bag when something goes wrong.

That's not ownership.

That's inheritance.


The Information Chain

Consider a typical patient journey:

Patient → Scheduling → Registration → Eligibility → Referral → Authorization → Clinical Encounter → Documentation → Coding → Claim → Payer → Payment

Now imagine every arrow represents a handoff.

Every handoff introduces potential variation.

A name can be entered differently.

An insurance number can be wrong.

A referral can be missing.

An authorization can expire.

A diagnosis can be documented differently.

A clinical note can lack a required element.

A payer rule can change.

A code can be selected incorrectly.

Then the claim gets denied.

And someone asks:

"Why did the payer do that?"

Maybe the payer did exactly what the information they received told them to do.

That does not necessarily mean the payer is right.

It means the interesting question is earlier:

What information reached the payer, and how did it get there?


The Hidden Cost Nobody Puts on the P&L

Physician owners usually see billing costs.

They see the billing company's invoice.

They see payroll.

They see software subscriptions.

They see clearinghouse fees.

They see collection percentages.

But there is another cost.

It is hiding inside everyone's job.

The nurse spends 20 minutes dealing with an authorization.

The front desk spends 15 minutes correcting eligibility.

The physician spends 10 minutes answering a documentation question.

The biller spends 30 minutes fixing a claim.

The practice manager spends an hour investigating why payment is delayed.

Individually, none looks catastrophic.

Together?

That is a staffing model.

You may not have hired another full-time employee.

But your practice may be behaving as though you did.

I call this the 1.2 FTE problem.

The practice has an invisible employee whose job is:

Fixing things that should not have broken.

That employee never gets a badge.

Never gets a performance review.

Never appears on the organizational chart.

But you are paying for them.


The Numbers Behind the Friction

The administrative burden is not theoretical.

CMS says prior authorization requests can cost providers approximately $20–$50 per hour in staff time and take an average of 13 hours per week, which CMS estimates can amount to approximately 700 hours of administrative time per provider annually. CMS is moving toward electronic prior authorization beginning in 2027 for certain processes.

The AMA has also reported substantial physician concern about prior authorization burden and its relationship to delays and burnout.

Those numbers matter.

But I think they tell only half the story.

Because the real question isn't simply:

How many hours are we spending?

It is:

Why are we spending them?

That is a different question.

And a much more useful one.


Recent News: Healthcare Is Still Trying to Solve the Downstream Problem

This week's healthcare news provides several reminders that the pressure on physician practices is not disappearing.

The Medical Group Management Association is currently highlighting changes affecting physician payment, MIPS, prior authorization, Medicaid, and other federal issues facing practices in 2027.

Medical Economics is also reporting on physician productivity and the financial pressure created when operating costs rise faster than revenue.

And this week's healthcare technology conversation is increasingly shifting toward a more practical question about AI: not simply whether AI can produce impressive outputs, but whether it can improve care quality and return meaningful time to clinicians.

That is an important shift.

Because "AI can do this" is not a healthcare strategy.

The better question is:

"What unnecessary work disappears because AI exists?"

If the answer is "none," we have created another tool.

Not necessarily another solution.


Three Experts, Three Lessons

Atul Gawande: Complexity Is the Enemy Hiding in Plain Sight

Surgeon and author Atul Gawande has spent years examining complexity, checklists, systems, and the challenge of delivering reliable care when professionals operate inside complicated environments.

The billing lesson is straightforward:

Good people cannot reliably compensate for infinite complexity.

Eventually, complexity wins.

Not because your staff is incompetent.

Because humans have limits.

We forget.

We misunderstand.

We get interrupted.

We make assumptions.

We work under pressure.

The answer is not to demand superhuman performance.

The answer is to design systems that require less heroism.


Peter Pronovost: Standardization Can Protect Human Judgment

Patient-safety researcher Peter Pronovost became widely known for demonstrating how standardized processes can reduce preventable harm.

The lesson is not "make medicine robotic."

Quite the opposite.

The point is to standardize the predictable parts so professionals have more capacity for the unpredictable parts.

That applies to revenue cycle management.

Do not make physicians memorize payer rules.

Do not make nurses memorize authorization requirements.

Do not make billers compensate forever for missing information.

Standardize the predictable.

Protect human attention for the exceptional.


Don Berwick: Fix the System

Don Berwick's work in healthcare quality has repeatedly emphasized system improvement rather than simply demanding more from individuals.

This may be the most important lesson for independent practices.

When the same problem happens repeatedly, ask:

Is this really an employee problem?

Or is it a system problem?

If five different employees make the same mistake, maybe you don't have five bad employees.

Maybe you have one bad process.

That distinction can save a lot of money.

And a lot of blame.


A More Provocative Definition of "Efficiency"

Healthcare often defines efficiency as:

Doing more with less.

I think that definition is incomplete.

A better definition is:

Doing less unnecessary work.

Those are not the same thing.

Doing 40 patient visits instead of 30 may look efficient.

Unless it produces more documentation problems.

Unless staff spend more time on follow-up.

Unless denials increase.

Unless physician burnout increases.

Unless patients wait longer.

Unless the practice loses people.

You haven't necessarily improved the system.

You may simply have squeezed it harder.


The Productivity Trap

This week's healthcare discussion around physician productivity makes the tension especially visible.

When operating costs rise faster than revenue, the obvious response is:

See more patients.

More visits.

More volume.

More productivity.

It makes financial sense.

At least initially.

But every system has a carrying capacity.

At some point, more volume creates more:

  • Documentation
  • Orders
  • Messages
  • Authorizations
  • Claims
  • Corrections
  • Follow-up
  • Administrative work

And now the system is producing more work faster than people can absorb it.

The physician becomes more "productive."

The practice becomes less manageable.

That's an interesting definition of productivity.


What If Productivity Is the Wrong Metric?

Here's my contrarian question:

What if the most productive physician is not the physician who sees the most patients?

What if it is the physician whose practice creates the least unnecessary work per patient?

That would change the dashboard.

Instead of simply counting encounters, we could also look at:

Administrative friction per encounter.

How many touches?

How many corrections?

How many messages?

How many authorization loops?

How many documentation queries?

How many claim interventions?

How many minutes of physician time occur after the patient has already left?

Now we are measuring something physicians actually experience.


The Problem With "Best Practices"

Healthcare loves the phrase best practice.

Sometimes I think we use it because it sounds better than:

"This is how we have always done it."

A large health system may have a 25-person revenue-cycle department.

An independent practice may have one biller and a practice manager who also handles HR.

Those two organizations should not necessarily use the same workflow.

The question is not:

"What is the industry's best practice?"

Ask:

"What is the simplest reliable practice for our environment?"

Simple wins surprisingly often.


Myth Buster

Myth: More billing staff will solve the problem.

Maybe.

But if the workflow generates unnecessary work, you may simply be hiring people to process the consequences.

More capacity is not the same as less waste.


Myth: A low denial rate means the system is healthy.

Not necessarily.

You can have a low denial rate and still have:

  • Underpayments
  • Delayed claims
  • Excessive manual work
  • Authorization burden
  • Documentation queries
  • Missed charges
  • Poor cash flow

A metric is useful only in context.


Myth: A denial is a billing problem.

Sometimes.

But many denials are downstream manifestations of upstream information or workflow problems.

The right answer is to identify the actual cause rather than assume the department where the problem appeared caused it.


Myth: AI solves bad data.

No.

AI can process bad data very efficiently.

That is not the same as fixing it.

Bad data plus powerful automation can create very sophisticated mistakes.


Myth: Automation means removing humans.

Not necessarily.

Good automation should remove unnecessary human work.

It should not automatically remove human accountability.


What AI Should Actually Do

I am a physician.

I am also building a healthcare technology company.

So I have an obvious interest in AI.

But I am increasingly skeptical of the phrase:

"AI-powered."

Those two words can mean almost anything.

The better question is:

What exactly is the machine doing?

Is it extracting information?

Classifying information?

Detecting an exception?

Predicting a risk?

Applying deterministic rules?

Recommending an action?

Submitting something automatically?

Those are very different things.

For healthcare billing, I believe a useful architecture looks more like:

AI extracts.

Rules determine.

Humans oversee exceptions.

That is much easier to trust than:

AI decides everything.


The OnnX Thesis

This is the problem I am building around with OnnX.

My thesis is simple:

Healthcare billing is often a data-quality problem before it becomes a billing problem.

Most revenue-cycle activity happens after information has already moved through multiple hands and systems.

By then, the practice is reacting.

OnnX is designed around moving intelligence upstream.

That means helping practices identify problems earlier in the patient-to-claim journey.

The objective is not to create another dashboard.

It is not to add another inbox.

It is not to give physicians another piece of software to learn.

And it is certainly not to make physicians into part-time billers.

The objective is to reduce the correction loop.

Less rework.

Less ambiguity.

Less manual chasing.

Less dependence on tribal knowledge.

More predictable revenue-cycle operations.


The Correction Loop

Here is the loop I want to break:

Information enters.

Something is incomplete.

Nobody notices.

The encounter occurs.

The claim is generated.

The payer rejects it.

Someone discovers the problem.

Someone investigates.

Someone contacts someone else.

Someone fixes the data.

Someone resubmits the claim.

Someone follows up.

Someone waits.

Someone checks again.

Eventually, money arrives.

Everyone celebrates.

And then the same thing happens next Tuesday.

That is not a workflow.

That's a subscription to frustration.


The Upstream Alternative

Now imagine a different model.

The system sees the information earlier.

A potential problem is identified.

The appropriate person gets an actionable exception.

The issue is corrected before the claim exists.

The claim goes out with fewer avoidable problems.

The billing team focuses on actual exceptions rather than routine cleanup.

The physician is interrupted less often.

The patient experiences less administrative friction.

The practice gets paid with fewer correction loops.

That is the direction I believe healthcare technology should pursue.


The Five Questions Every Clinic Owner Should Ask

1. Where does information first enter our system?

Usually the front end.

That makes registration more important than many practices realize.

2. Where does information change?

Every transformation is a risk point.

3. Where does someone have to remember a rule?

That is a candidate for standardization or automation.

4. Where do humans repeatedly correct the same problem?

That is a root-cause signal.

5. How much physician time is consumed downstream?

This one gets overlooked.

The physician's time is not just a clinical resource.

It is the most expensive attention in many practices.


A Five-Day Upstream Audit

You do not need a consulting firm.

You do not need a six-month project.

Try this.

Day 1: Pull 10 recent denials

Don't choose only the biggest ones.

Choose a representative sample.

Day 2: Trace each denial backward

Ask:

Where did the problem begin?

Day 3: Group the causes

Use five categories:

Data

Workflow

Authorization

Documentation

Payer rule

Day 4: Find repetition

Which problem occurred more than once?

That's your signal.

Day 5: Change one upstream step

Not ten.

One.

Then measure the result.


Metrics Worth Watching

Traditional revenue-cycle metrics still matter.

Track:

Days in accounts receivable

Clean-claim rate

Denial rate

Net collection rate

Payment variance

Aging

But add:

Preventable denial rate

Manual touches per claim

Administrative touches per encounter

Staff minutes spent on rework

Documentation query rate

Authorization exception rate

Repeat-denial rate

Time from encounter to claim-ready status

These metrics tell a different story.

They tell you how hard the system is making people work.


The Metric I Want More Practices to Measure

If I could add one number to every physician practice dashboard, it would be:

Administrative Touches Per Encounter

How many people have to touch the information before the practice gets paid?

One?

Three?

Seven?

Ten?

Fifteen?

The number is revealing.

Because every touch creates an opportunity for:

  • Delay
  • Error
  • Duplication
  • Miscommunication
  • Cost

Reducing touches does not mean removing necessary human judgment.

It means removing unnecessary handoffs.


Legal and Compliance Considerations

Upstream automation does not remove compliance responsibilities.

It can actually make governance more important.

Practices should consider:

HIPAA privacy and security

Business associate requirements

Access controls

Audit trails

Documentation integrity

Coding compliance

Payer contracts

Medicare and Medicaid requirements

State requirements

Human oversight

Data retention

Security incident response

There is also a basic principle that should never disappear:

The practice remains accountable for what it submits.

Software does not become the legal owner of the claim simply because software touched it.

"The algorithm did it" is not a compliance strategy.


Ethical Considerations

Revenue-cycle technology deals with information about real people.

A claim represents a patient.

A diagnosis represents a patient.

A denial may delay care.

A documentation query consumes physician attention.

A prior authorization request can delay treatment.

That means optimization has an ethical dimension.

The goal should not be:

Maximum automation.

It should be:

Minimum unnecessary friction while preserving accuracy, accountability, privacy, and clinical judgment.

That distinction matters.


Tools and Resources

A practical revenue-cycle improvement toolkit can be surprisingly simple.

Root-Cause Log

Track:

  • Payer
  • Service
  • Denial
  • Cause
  • Origin
  • Preventability
  • Staff time
  • Resolution

Payer Rule Tracker

Record important changes in:

  • Authorization
  • Documentation
  • Coverage
  • Coding
  • Filing deadlines

Exception Queue

Surface only cases that need attention.

Process Map

Map the patient journey from scheduling through payment.

Monthly Friction Review

Ask:

Where did people spend time fixing something that should have been correct the first time?

That question alone can reveal a lot.


The Biggest Mistake Founders Make

Healthcare founders often start with the technology.

They ask:

What can AI do?

I think the better question is:

Where is the human being wasting time?

Then:

Why does that work exist?

Then:

Can the underlying problem be prevented?

Only then:

Can technology help?

That sequence matters.

Otherwise, we risk building very sophisticated solutions to very poorly understood problems.


The Biggest Mistake Physicians Make

Physicians often assume administrative complexity is simply part of practicing medicine.

It isn't necessarily.

Some complexity is unavoidable.

Some is useful.

Some is necessary for safety.

But some is simply accumulated history.

One payer added a rule.

Another added an exception.

The EHR created a field.

Someone created a spreadsheet.

A staff member developed a workaround.

The workaround became policy.

Five years later, everyone follows it.

Nobody remembers why.

Welcome to healthcare.


The Bigger Opportunity

The next generation of healthcare technology may not come from making every process more sophisticated.

It may come from making them simpler.

Fewer handoffs.

Cleaner information.

Earlier detection.

Better exception management.

Less tribal knowledge.

More reliable workflows.

That is not as flashy as an AI agent doing everything.

But it may be more useful.


What the Brooklyn Dotson Story Really Teaches Us

Let's go back to Brooklyn.

Michael Waters' family could not know what would happen after they honored his wish.

They knew only that they wanted to respect what Michael had told them.

His liver went to Brooklyn Dotson.

Brooklyn survived.

The families connected.

Noah and Brooklyn grew up.

Life continued.

And more than twenty years later, the original act of generosity had become part of a completely different story.

That is healthcare.

Not a transaction.

A chain of consequences.

Some measurable.

Some invisible.

Some immediate.

Some decades away.

The mistake we make is assuming the outcome is the last event.

It isn't.

The outcome is everything that happens afterward.


And That Is Also True of Medical Billing

A denial is not the end of a claim.

It creates work.

That work creates cost.

That cost consumes staff time.

That time can affect workload.

Workload can affect physician experience.

Physician experience can affect retention.

Retention can affect continuity.

Continuity can affect the patient experience.

The chain continues.

So perhaps the right way to think about revenue cycle is not:

"How much money did we collect?"

But:

"How much unnecessary friction did it take to collect it?"

That is a very different metric.


Three Things I Would Change Tomorrow

First: Stop treating every denial as an isolated event.

Look for patterns.

Second: Stop measuring only recovery.

Measure prevention.

Third: Stop asking employees to compensate for broken workflows.

Fix the workflow.

That sounds simple.

It isn't always easy.

But it is where the leverage is.


A Challenge for Physicians and Clinic Owners

Take your last ten denials.

Don't open the payer portal yet.

Don't call the billing company.

Don't blame the payer.

Don't blame the biller.

Instead ask:

Where did this problem first become possible?

You might be surprised by the answer.

It may not be in billing.

It may be in scheduling.

Registration.

Eligibility.

Documentation.

Authorization.

Communication.

Or simply a rule nobody knew had changed.

That is the point.

The visible problem is often not the original problem.


The Future of Revenue-Cycle Management

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

That's an unnecessarily dramatic framing.

The future is more likely:

Humans doing the work that requires judgment.

Machines handling predictable information processing.

Rules enforcing deterministic requirements.

Systems identifying exceptions earlier.

People intervening when context matters.

And perhaps most importantly:

Data becoming useful before it becomes a claim.

That is where healthcare technology becomes interesting.


Final Thoughts: Look Upstream

The story of Brooklyn Dotson, Michael Waters, and Noah Waters is extraordinary because it reminds us that the consequences of a healthcare decision can extend far beyond the moment in which the decision was made.

A 10-year-old boy's decision about organ donation became a liver transplant.

The transplant became survival.

Survival became a childhood.

The childhood became a life.

That life eventually became a relationship.

And that relationship became a marriage.

No dashboard captured the entire chain.

No metric predicted it.

No one could see the final outcome at the beginning.

Healthcare is full of chains like this.

We simply don't always notice them.

The same is true in the revenue cycle.

The denial we see today may have started weeks earlier.

The payment delay may have started at registration.

The documentation problem may have started with time pressure.

The authorization problem may have started with a rule nobody knew had changed.

The revenue leakage may have started with information that was never structured correctly.

So perhaps the most important question for physician practices is not:

"How do we get better at fixing denials?"

It is:

"How do we get better at preventing the conditions that create them?"

That is the difference between reacting to the revenue cycle and designing it.

And that is where I believe healthcare technology has an opportunity to become genuinely useful.

Not by adding another layer.

Not by replacing physicians.

Not by creating another dashboard nobody opens.

But by making the information that matters available before the problem becomes expensive.

Look upstream.

Fix the information before you fix the claim.

And measure how much unnecessary work your system creates before asking your people to work harder.


Get Involved: Continue the Conversation

Here is the question I want to leave with physicians, practice owners, administrators, and medical billers:

What is the most expensive problem in your revenue cycle that everyone has simply learned to live with?

Is it prior authorization?

Eligibility?

Documentation?

Coding?

Payer changes?

Denials?

Underpayments?

Or something nobody has named yet?

Leave a comment and tell me where the friction begins in your practice.

If you've seen the same problem repeatedly, share your experience. Someone reading this may be dealing with exactly the same issue.

And if this perspective resonates, repost the article so another physician or clinic owner can rethink the assumption that every billing problem belongs to the billing department.

The conversation should move upstream.

The opportunity is there.

Let's start looking for it.


About the Author

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

His work explores the intersection of clinical workflows, healthcare operations, medical billing, data quality, and practical healthcare technology.

His perspective is straightforward:

Healthcare technology should reduce friction rather than create another layer of it.

Connect with Dr. Daniel Cham on LinkedIn


Disclaimer / Note

This article is provided for general educational and informational purposes. It discusses healthcare operations, medical billing, technology, and administrative processes at a general level and does not constitute medical, legal, coding, compliance, reimbursement, or financial advice.

Specific requirements can vary according to specialty, payer, contract, jurisdiction, patient circumstances, and organizational policy. Readers should obtain appropriate professional guidance before making decisions concerning their individual practices or organizations.


Continue Exploring

The healthcare conversation does not stop at the claim.

I share practical observations about healthcare operations, physician entrepreneurship, medical technology, medical billing, workflow design, and innovation.

Visit Dr. Cham's website

Listen to the podcast on Spotify

Subscribe and watch on YouTube

Follow Dr. Cham on X

Follow Dr. Cham on Facebook

Read Dr. Cham's Substack

Knowledge becomes useful when it changes what we do. Start here, keep learning, and help shape a more practical and human-centered healthcare system.


Free Resource

PS: Check the Featured section of my LinkedIn profile for a free resource designed for physicians and clinic owners. No signup is required.

If you are trying to understand where revenue-cycle friction actually begins, start there.


Three References

1. Kayvan Haddadan, MD — “Moral agency in medicine is being squeezed by payer audits.”
Published September 27, 2026, this physician perspective examines the relationship among reimbursement pressure, physician volume, documentation, payer audits, denials, and professional autonomy.
Read the physician commentary

2. Healthcare IT News — “What it will take for AI to deliver better clinical decisions.”
Published September 28, 2026, this analysis focuses on the practical value of healthcare AI, including care quality and time returned to clinicians rather than technology for its own sake.
Read the Healthcare IT News article

3. CMS — Electronic Prior Authorization.
CMS outlines the administrative burden associated with prior authorization and its work toward electronic prior authorization, including implementation steps for providers and health IT vendors.
Read the CMS guidance


The Human Story Behind the Argument

For readers who want to understand where this article began, the story of Brooklyn Dotson, Michael Waters, Noah Waters, Ashley Baker, and Tina Poteet was reported by The Washington Post.

Brooklyn received Michael's liver after he died at age 10. His mother, Tina Poteet, had learned that Michael wanted to be an organ donor. Poteet later connected with Brooklyn's mother, Ashley Baker, and the two families remained close. Brooklyn and Noah Waters eventually developed a romantic relationship and became engaged.

It is worth reading the original story because the details matter.

The healthcare lesson is not that organ donation is somehow equivalent to medical billing.

It isn't.

The connection is more fundamental:

We rarely know the full consequence of a healthcare decision when we make it.

That is precisely why upstream decisions deserve more attention.


Hashtags

#MedicalBilling #RevenueCycleManagement #HealthcareOperations #PhysicianPractice #IndependentPractice #MedicalPracticeManagement #HealthcareTechnology #HealthcareAI #PriorAuthorization #DenialManagement #PhysicianEntrepreneur #HealthTech #ClinicalWorkflow #HealthcareInnovation #DataQuality #OnnX

If this perspective resonates, consider reposting it to help other physicians and clinic owners rethink how billing problems begin.

 

Saturday, September 26, 2026

“Hi, Dad.” “Hi, Honey.”

The Final Words of a Father—and What They Reveal About the Patient We Lose in the Data



“It’s not supposed to be happening.” — Joan M. Griffin, PhD, Mayo Clinic researcher studying lucidity in dementia.

 

A final moment of clarity in dementia raises a much bigger healthcare question: What happens when we capture the data—but lose the context?


The day before her father died, a caregiver came to his home.

He was rarely awake.

He no longer spoke.

So she did what families often do when medicine has run out of easy answers.

She kept talking to him.

She leaned into his view.

“Hi, Dad!”

He looked at her.

And answered:

“Hi, Honey!”

It was the last time he spoke.

There is something almost impossible to process about that moment.

Not because it proves anything supernatural.

Not because dementia suddenly disappeared.

Not because scientists have discovered a cure.

They haven't.

Researchers are still trying to understand why some people with advanced dementia experience unexpected periods of clarity, communication, recognition or apparent awareness. Scientists call these episodes paradoxical lucidity, or terminal lucidity when they occur near the end of life. The mechanisms remain uncertain.

But the story exposes something much bigger.

The daughter heard two words.

The researchers heard a phenomenon.

A clinician might hear a neurological event.

A stranger might hear nothing more than a sentence.

But the daughter heard her father.

She knew the baseline.

She knew what had changed.

She knew why those two ordinary words were extraordinary.

And that is where this story becomes unexpectedly relevant to modern healthcare.

Because healthcare has a similar problem.

We are exceptionally good at collecting information.

We are increasingly good at processing information.

We are getting very good at generating information.

But we are surprisingly bad at preserving context.

And without context, information can become almost useless.


The Patient Is Not the Data

Let's start with an uncomfortable proposition.

The patient is not the chart.

The diagnosis isn't the patient.

The CPT code isn't the encounter.

The authorization number isn't the clinical reasoning.

The claim isn't the care.

The denial isn't the explanation.

And the dashboard isn't reality.

Yet somewhere between the exam room and the payment system, we repeatedly act as though these things are interchangeable.

They're not.

A physician sees a patient.

The patient tells a story.

The physician interprets the story.

A clinical decision is made.

Documentation is created.

Administrative information is added.

The encounter enters a series of systems.

Then the information gets copied, transformed, compressed, translated, transmitted, coded, validated and eventually turned into a claim.

At every step, something can disappear.

Sometimes it is a field.

Sometimes it is a timestamp.

Sometimes it is an authorization.

Sometimes it is a referral.

Sometimes it is clinical reasoning.

Sometimes it is the relationship between two pieces of information.

And sometimes what disappears is the thing that mattered most:

Why.


Healthcare Doesn't Have a Data Shortage

This is where I become deliberately contrarian.

Healthcare does not have a data shortage.

We have more data than almost anyone could reasonably consume.

Laboratories.

Imaging.

Notes.

Messages.

Claims.

Eligibility responses.

Authorizations.

Referrals.

Medication histories.

Problem lists.

Payer policies.

Portal messages.

Phone calls.

Faxed documents.

Scanned documents.

Spreadsheets.

Dashboards.

And, increasingly, AI-generated summaries.

If data alone solved healthcare's administrative problems, we should have solved them years ago.

Instead, we keep adding more.

More systems.

More portals.

More integrations.

More dashboards.

More automation.

More AI.

And somehow someone is still saying:

“I know the information is somewhere.”

That sentence should terrify every healthcare technology founder.

Because it means the data exists.

But the context doesn't travel with it.


Here's the Strange Part

We have built a healthcare system in which a highly trained physician can spend twenty minutes understanding a patient...

...and a billing department can later spend forty minutes trying to reconstruct what happened.

That is backwards.

The person closest to the clinical decision often has the richest context.

The person downstream may have the least.

Yet the downstream person is frequently expected to make the information work.

So what happens?

Humans become middleware.

The front desk becomes middleware.

The medical assistant becomes middleware.

The nurse becomes middleware.

The biller becomes middleware.

The practice manager becomes middleware.

Everyone moves information from one disconnected place to another.

And then we call it a workflow.

Maybe some workflows are simply systems compensating for missing context.


Meet the World's Most Expensive API

Her name might be Linda.

Or Maria.

Or Steve.

Every medical practice has one.

She's been there for 17 years.

She knows which payer portal actually works.

She knows which authorization form the payer really wants.

She knows which physician forgets which field.

She remembers that one strange patient from 2018.

She knows that if the payer says “pending,” it might mean three completely different things.

She knows where the missing document probably is.

She knows who to call.

She knows what to say.

She knows when the payer representative is giving her the standard answer and when something is actually wrong.

She is, essentially, an undocumented API.

And when she retires, the organization discovers something horrifying:

She was the infrastructure.

That isn't a technology strategy.

That's institutional knowledge trapped inside one human being.

The answer isn't to replace her.

The answer is to preserve the knowledge she shouldn't have to repeatedly recreate.


The “Why” Is Usually Missing

Ask a billing team:

Why did this claim deny?

You'll probably get an answer.

Authorization.

Eligibility.

Medical necessity.

Coding.

Modifier.

Coverage.

Documentation.

Timely filing.

Fine.

Now ask:

Why did the underlying problem happen?

That question changes everything.

Maybe the insurance changed before the appointment.

Maybe eligibility was checked against the wrong plan.

Maybe an authorization was obtained but never linked to the encounter.

Maybe the authorization covered one service but the claim represented another.

Maybe a referral was required.

Maybe the payer changed its rule.

Maybe the physician documented the clinical reasoning, but that context never reached the administrative workflow.

Maybe the payer made an error.

Maybe the practice made an error.

Maybe nobody made an error.

Maybe the information was simply fragmented.

That's why I believe the denial itself is often less interesting than the chain of events that produced it.

The denial isn't necessarily the problem.

The denial is the clue.


Healthcare Loves to Clean Up Messes

This is one of the industry's stranger habits.

We create friction.

Then we build an industry around managing the friction.

A claim rejects.

Someone works the rejection.

An authorization is missing.

Someone calls.

A document can't be found.

Someone searches.

A payer requests information.

Someone uploads it.

A patient doesn't understand the bill.

Someone explains it.

The same patient calls again.

Someone explains it again.

At some point we congratulate ourselves because the workflow has been “optimized.”

Optimized?

We just got faster at cleaning up the mess.

That's not necessarily innovation.

Sometimes it's high-speed housekeeping.


Prior Authorization Is a Perfect Example

The latest AMA physician survey provides an uncomfortable picture.

Physicians report completing an average of 40 prior authorization requests per week.

Those requests consume an average of 13 hours of physician and staff time every week.

More than nine in ten physicians, 94%, say prior authorization contributes to burnout.

And 74% report that prior authorization denials have increased over the past five years.

The AMA survey also found that 40% of physicians employ staff dedicated exclusively to prior authorization tasks.

Forty requests.

Thirteen hours.

Dedicated staff.

And this is one administrative process.

Not healthcare.

One process.

So perhaps the question isn't:

“How can we process prior authorization faster?”

Perhaps the more important question is:

“Why does the system require this much human reconstruction in the first place?”

That's a different problem.

And a much more interesting one.


The Hidden Cost Isn't Just Money

We love measuring administrative waste in dollars.

We should.

But there's another currency:

attention.

A physician's attention.

A nurse's attention.

A biller's attention.

A practice manager's attention.

A patient's attention.

A caregiver's attention.

Every unnecessary phone call spends some of it.

Every duplicate entry spends some.

Every manual lookup spends some.

Every “can you send that again?” spends some.

Every portal login spends some.

One interruption isn't catastrophic.

A thousand aren't trivial.

That's how healthcare burnout works.

Not necessarily through one enormous event.

Through thousands of tiny demands that accumulate until someone finally says:

“I can't do this anymore.”


The Dementia Story Gives Us a Clue

Go back to the father.

The daughter says:

“Hi, Dad.”

He says:

“Hi, Honey.”

Those words by themselves are ordinary.

The context makes them extraordinary.

That is the point.

Context changes meaning.

Without context, the words are merely data.

With context, they become a moment.

Healthcare understands this intuitively.

Doctors know that a lab value means different things depending on the patient.

A symptom means different things depending on the history.

A medication means different things depending on the indication.

A diagnosis means different things depending on the encounter.

Yet our administrative systems often flatten all of that complexity into discrete fields.

Then we act surprised when the downstream system doesn't understand the story.


What Joan Griffin's Research Really Makes Me Think About

Joan M. Griffin, PhD, a Mayo Clinic researcher who studies lucidity in dementia from the caregiver perspective, told the Washington Post:

“It’s not supposed to be happening.”

That sentence is haunting.

But it also reveals something important about science.

When reality doesn't fit the model, the answer isn't necessarily to ignore reality.

Sometimes the model is incomplete.

Healthcare technology needs the same humility.

When the same claim keeps denying...

When the same authorization keeps failing...

When staff repeatedly search for the same information...

When the same patient has to explain the same thing...

Maybe the people aren't the problem.

Maybe the model is incomplete.


Another Remarkable Observation

The Washington Post reported that Griffin has seen caregivers change how they interact with people with dementia after witnessing moments of lucidity.

Some physicians, she said, began speaking directly to the patient rather than only to the caregiver, recognizing that the patient might be processing information even when communication appeared limited.

That is a profound shift.

The person's apparent inability to communicate had been interpreted as absence.

Then an unexpected moment challenged the assumption.

And the behavior changed.

There is a lesson here for healthcare technology:

What you cannot observe easily is not necessarily what does not exist.

The same principle applies to context.

If your billing system can't see the relationship between eligibility, authorization, documentation and the eventual claim, that doesn't mean the relationship isn't there.

It means your architecture isn't preserving it.


This Is the Data Quality Problem Nobody Wants to Own

Everyone says they want clean data.

But “clean data” is usually interpreted as:

No missing fields.

No duplicate records.

Valid formatting.

Consistent codes.

Correct dates.

That's necessary.

But it isn't enough.

You can have perfectly formatted data that is completely disconnected from its meaning.

Imagine a spreadsheet with:

Patient ID.

Date.

Procedure.

Diagnosis.

Payer.

Authorization number.

Everything is technically clean.

But nobody knows whether the authorization actually corresponds to the procedure.

The data is clean.

The context is broken.

That's a much more subtle problem.

And potentially a much more expensive one.


Clean Data vs. Meaningful Data

I would separate the two.

Clean data

Is accurate, structured and valid.

Contextual data

Preserves relationships, timing, provenance and meaning.

We need both.

The next generation of healthcare infrastructure should be designed around both.

Because AI cannot reason reliably about context that has already been discarded.


This Is Where AI Gets Interesting

The healthcare industry is rushing toward AI.

That's understandable.

AI can summarize.

Classify.

Extract.

Predict.

Route.

Flag.

Compare.

Generate.

But here's my contrarian warning:

AI does not magically repair bad context.

It can process bad context faster.

It can summarize incomplete context beautifully.

It can produce an extremely confident answer from information that should never have been trusted.

That's not intelligence.

That's automated ambiguity.

And healthcare cannot afford to confuse the two.


The Real AI Question

Instead of asking:

“Which AI model should we use?”

Ask:

“What information will the model actually receive?”

Then:

“Where did that information come from?”

Then:

“When was it verified?”

Then:

“What context surrounds it?”

Then:

“What happens when two sources disagree?”

Then:

“What does the system do when the answer is unknown?”

Those questions are considerably less glamorous than talking about agents.

They are also more important.


AI Should Preserve Context, Not Invent It

This principle matters enormously in healthcare.

If eligibility is unknown:

Don't guess.

If authorization is uncertain:

Flag it.

If documentation conflicts:

Surface the conflict.

If the clinical record doesn't support a conclusion:

Don't manufacture support.

If the system infers something:

Distinguish inference from fact.

If a human needs to decide:

Escalate to the human.

The smartest system may sometimes be the one that says:

“I don't know. Here's what needs to be checked.”

That is not weakness.

That's governance.


The Opportunity Before the AI

This is where my thinking about OnnX begins.

I don't believe the biggest opportunity in healthcare billing is simply building another AI layer on top of the existing revenue cycle.

There are already plenty of tools trying to make downstream work smarter.

My question is more fundamental:

What if we improve the information before it becomes a billing problem?

Healthcare billing is, at its core, a data-quality problem.

Not merely a tooling problem.

And certainly not merely a staffing problem.


Most of the Problem Starts Upstream

Think about a claim.

By the time it reaches the billing queue, a tremendous amount has already happened.

The patient was scheduled.

Insurance was identified.

Eligibility may have been checked.

Referral requirements may have existed.

Authorization requirements may have existed.

Clinical information was collected.

A service was selected.

Documentation was created.

Coding decisions were made.

Information was transmitted.

By the time a claim denies, the industry often focuses on the last step.

But the last step may only be where the problem becomes visible.

Visibility is not causation.

That's a distinction healthcare should take much more seriously.


The OnnX Concept

The operating philosophy behind OnnX is:

Capture → Structure → Preserve → Propagate → Act → Learn

Capture

Capture relevant information as early as possible.

Structure

Turn it into usable, consistent information.

Preserve

Keep the relationship between information and the encounter.

Propagate

Carry relevant context forward instead of forcing people to recreate it.

Act

Identify exceptions before they become expensive downstream problems.

Learn

Use outcomes to improve the system.

The idea isn't complicated.

The implementation is.

Healthcare has a remarkable talent for turning simple ideas into complicated workflows.


The Canonical Context Record

One concept I keep coming back to is the canonical context record.

Not another giant chart.

Not another database where everything goes to die.

A structured representation of the relevant facts and relationships surrounding an encounter.

For example:

Patient

↓

Coverage

↓

Eligibility

↓

Referral

↓

Authorization

↓

Clinical indication

↓

Service

↓

Documentation

↓

Coding

↓

Claim

↓

Payer response

↓

Payment / denial

The value isn't simply storing each item.

The value is preserving the relationships between them.

That's the missing layer.


Imagine the Difference

Today:

“Why did this claim deny?”

Someone investigates.

Tomorrow:

“The claim denied because the authorization covered procedure A, while the submitted claim represented procedure B. Eligibility was verified four days before service. The mismatch originated at the authorization-to-claim transition.”

That's a different system.

Not because the AI is magical.

Because the context survived the journey.


The Metric I Want to See

We measure denial rates.

Clean claims.

A/R.

Days to payment.

Collection rates.

Useful.

But I would add another metric:

Context Loss Rate

How often does your organization have to rediscover information that should already be available?

Ask:

How often does staff search for an authorization?

How often does someone re-enter patient information?

How often does someone call the payer because the answer wasn't preserved?

How often does a physician get asked for information already documented?

How often does the patient repeat information?

How often does someone say:

“I know it's somewhere.”

That's a context-loss event.

Start counting them.

You may discover that your biggest revenue-cycle problem isn't your billing software.

It's the number of times your employees become detectives.


The Sherlock Holmes Problem

A practice should not require a detective to submit a claim.

Yet that's what happens.

“Where is the authorization?”

“Who verified eligibility?”

“When did we verify it?”

“Was the referral required?”

“Which payer representative confirmed it?”

“Did the patient change plans?”

“Did anyone upload the document?”

“Where's the clinical note?”

“Which version?”

“What did the payer actually ask for?”

This is not sophisticated work.

It is reconstruction work.

And reconstruction is expensive.


The Human Middleware Tax

Here's another metric I'd like healthcare organizations to think about:

Human Middleware Tax.

How much employee time is spent moving information between systems because the systems themselves don't carry the context?

That might be:

Copying.

Pasting.

Calling.

Faxing.

Uploading.

Downloading.

Searching.

Re-entering.

Reconciling.

Confirming.

Repeating.

The employee is doing work.

But the organization isn't necessarily creating value.

It is compensating for architectural limitations.


This Is Not an Argument Against Humans

Quite the opposite.

The goal shouldn't be:

Remove the humans.

It should be:

Stop wasting the humans.

A great biller should be solving exceptions.

A great practice manager should be improving operations.

A physician should be practicing medicine.

A nurse should be caring for patients.

An experienced employee should be handling the complicated cases where judgment actually matters.

Not searching three portals for a PDF that somebody already uploaded.


The Janice Test

Here's a test for any healthcare technology company.

Take your product into a clinic.

Find the person who knows everything.

Ask them to demonstrate the current workflow.

Then ask:

“What do you do when this goes wrong?”

They'll show you.

Now ask:

“How many times a week?”

Then:

“How long does it take?”

Then:

“What information are you looking for?”

Then:

“Why isn't that information already available?”

That final question is where product discovery gets interesting.


Stop Asking, “Would You Buy It?”

Healthcare founders love asking:

“Would this solve a problem for you?”

Of course.

The person wants to be nice.

Instead ask:

“Show me the last time this happened.”

Then:

“What did you do next?”

Then:

“Who else got involved?”

Then:

“How long did it take?”

Then:

“What happens if you're out sick?”

Then:

“How do you know the problem is fixed?”

Now you're getting somewhere.


The Practice Manager's Conversation

Imagine this:

Biller: “The claim denied.”

Manager: “Why?”

Biller: “Authorization.”

Manager: “Didn't we have one?”

Biller: “I think so.”

Manager: “Where is it?”

Biller: “Payer portal.”

Manager: “Which portal?”

Biller: “Let me check.”

That's not a billing workflow.

That's an escape room.

And someone is paying for the privilege.


The Real Definition of Automation

Automation should not mean:

“We moved the work faster.”

It should mean:

“We eliminated unnecessary work.”

Those are different.

If a person previously searched five systems for 20 minutes and an AI searches five systems in 30 seconds, congratulations.

You've built a faster searcher.

But if the information had been structured correctly at the beginning, perhaps nobody needed to search at all.

That is the more interesting innovation.


Healthcare Needs Fewer Detective Stories

The best healthcare infrastructure should make the boring things boring.

Eligibility should be boring.

Authorization status should be boring.

Documentation availability should be boring.

Claim context should be boring.

Payment reconciliation should be boring.

The interesting work should be:

Clinical judgment.

Complex patients.

Difficult diagnoses.

New treatments.

Research.

Human relationships.

Not:

“Where did that authorization PDF go?”


The Ethical Line

There is another reason this matters.

When AI enters healthcare administration, convenience cannot become the only objective.

A system shouldn't fabricate missing documentation.

It shouldn't silently infer facts and represent them as verified.

It shouldn't conceal uncertainty.

It shouldn't turn a probability into a fact.

It shouldn't make a physician responsible for an AI-generated conclusion without appropriate visibility.

And it shouldn't encourage practices to treat payer rules as obstacles to be manipulated.

The objective should be:

accurate information, transparent reasoning, traceable actions and appropriate human oversight.

That isn't bureaucracy.

That's trust.


The Patient Is Paying for the Fragmentation

We often discuss administrative burden as though it belongs to the healthcare organization.

It doesn't.

Patients experience it.

They wait.

They call.

They repeat information.

They receive confusing bills.

They wonder why one doctor knows something another doesn't.

They wait for authorizations.

They delay treatment.

They become frustrated.

And eventually they say something familiar:

“Why can't you people just talk to each other?”

That may be the most accurate healthcare interoperability assessment ever written.


Independent Practices Feel This Differently

A large health system may have departments dedicated to fixing administrative problems.

A small physician-owned practice may have:

One physician.

A few staff.

One practice manager.

One biller.

And a phone that never seems to stop ringing.

Every unnecessary administrative task has an opportunity cost.

A physician fighting an authorization isn't seeing a patient.

A biller searching for an old document isn't working another claim.

A manager reconstructing a workflow isn't improving the practice.

Scale doesn't eliminate friction.

It simply determines how much friction you can afford.


What I Would Fix First

If I were sitting with an independent practice tomorrow, I wouldn't start with AI.

I'd start with one service.

One payer.

One workflow.

One recurring problem.

Then I'd trace it.

Appointment.

Eligibility.

Authorization.

Clinical encounter.

Documentation.

Coding.

Claim.

Payment.

Denial.

And I'd ask:

Where was the first preventable information failure?

Not where did the denial occur.

Where did the problem begin?

That distinction can change an entire product strategy.


The Five Questions

For every recurring administrative problem, ask:

1. What happened?

Document the event.

2. Why did it happen?

Find the upstream cause.

3. What information existed?

Identify the evidence.

4. Where did the context disappear?

Find the handoff.

5. How do we prevent reconstruction next time?

That's where technology belongs.


The Future of Healthcare AI May Be Boring

This may sound strange coming from someone building an AI healthcare company.

But I don't want AI to feel impressive.

I want it to feel boring.

I want the practice manager to say:

“Wait. I didn't have to call them?”

I want the biller to say:

“The authorization was already attached?”

I want the physician to say:

“Why did I get this request? The information was already there.”

I want the patient to say:

“I didn't have to explain that again?”

That's success.

Not a flashy demo.

Not a futuristic robot.

Not a 47-slide investor deck.

Just fewer unnecessary problems.


The Best AI May Be the AI Nobody Notices

A patient doesn't care that an AI model processed their eligibility data.

They care that their appointment wasn't delayed.

A physician doesn't care that an algorithm classified a payer rule.

They care that the patient got the treatment.

A biller doesn't care that a model used a sophisticated embedding architecture.

They care that the claim didn't require three hours of detective work.

The technology should disappear into the workflow.

The outcome should be visible.


Three Lessons From the Dementia Story

The first is simple:

1. Absence of visible communication is not necessarily absence of awareness.

Healthcare should be careful about confusing what a system cannot observe with what does not exist.

2. Context changes meaning.

Two ordinary words—“Hi, Honey”—can become extraordinary when someone knows the story surrounding them.

3. Systems should preserve what humans need to understand.

The daughter didn't need more data.

She needed the context that made the data meaningful.

Healthcare needs the same thing.


A Different Way to Think About “Patient-Centered”

Patient-centered healthcare shouldn't simply mean:

Be nice to the patient.

It should mean:

Don't make the patient repeatedly compensate for the system's inability to preserve information.

That is harder.

But it is measurable.

How many times does a patient repeat information?

How many times does a patient call?

How many administrative delays occur?

How many bills require explanation?

How many times does a patient become the messenger between two parts of the healthcare system?

Those are patient-experience metrics too.


What Healthcare Founders Should Stop Building

Maybe we should stop building:

Another dashboard nobody checks.

Another portal nobody likes.

Another chatbot that doesn't know the patient's context.

Another AI summarizer that creates another document.

Another workflow tool that requires staff to manually feed it information.

Another “single pane of glass” that somehow creates a second pane of glass.

Healthcare doesn't need more software for software's sake.

It needs better information architecture.


What We Should Build Instead

Systems that:

Capture information once.

Preserve its meaning.

Maintain provenance.

Carry context forward.

Detect conflicts.

Surface exceptions.

Ask humans when uncertainty matters.

Learn from outcomes.

That sounds less sexy.

Good.

Sexy software makes great demos.

Reliable infrastructure makes great businesses.


The OnnX Thesis in One Sentence

Healthcare billing should become more deterministic because the information entering the revenue cycle becomes more structured, contextual and trustworthy.

Not because we hire more people to chase problems.

Not because we throw AI at denials.

Not because we build another RCM dashboard.

Because we reduce the number of things that go wrong upstream.


The Denial Is Still Useful

Remember:

The denial isn't the enemy.

It is information.

A denial tells you that something in the system didn't line up.

Maybe the payer's rule.

Maybe the documentation.

Maybe the authorization.

Maybe eligibility.

Maybe coding.

Maybe timing.

Maybe the system.

The question is not:

“How quickly can we make this denial disappear?”

The better question is:

“What is this denial trying to teach us?”

That's where revenue cycle becomes more than collections.

It becomes a feedback system.


Capture Once. Preserve Context.

This is ultimately the idea.

A physician shouldn't have to recreate information.

A nurse shouldn't have to recreate information.

A biller shouldn't have to recreate information.

A patient shouldn't have to recreate information.

A practice manager shouldn't have to recreate information.

Capture once.

Preserve context.

Let the information travel with the encounter.

That is a very different vision of healthcare infrastructure.


The Father at the End of the Story

The Washington Post reported that after experiencing these unexpected moments, some caregivers changed how they interacted with people with dementia.

They began to reconsider what they assumed the patient could understand.

They spoke directly to them.

They paid closer attention.

They stopped equating silence with absence.

That is the lesson I want healthcare technology to take seriously.

Because our systems can make a similar mistake.

When information isn't visible, we assume it isn't there.

When context isn't structured, we assume it doesn't matter.

When the workflow breaks, we blame the person downstream.

Maybe we should question the system upstream.


“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Honey.”

Two ordinary sentences.

An extraordinary moment.

And perhaps an uncomfortable lesson for healthcare:

The thing we fail to capture is not necessarily the thing that isn't there.

Sometimes it is simply the thing our system wasn't designed to preserve.

And that's the problem I think we should be solving.

Not:

How do we collect more data?

But:

How do we stop losing the meaning of the data we already have?

Because the patient was never just the data.

And the claim was never just the claim.

The story was there all along.

We just didn't carry it forward.


My Challenge to Physicians and Clinic Owners

Tomorrow, ask your team one question:

“What do you have to explain more than once?”

Don't ask what annoys them.

Ask what gets lost.

Eligibility.

Authorization.

Referral information.

Clinical reasoning.

Documentation.

Coding rationale.

Payer instructions.

Patient financial information.

You may discover that the biggest problem in your practice isn't something you need to add.

It is something you need to stop losing.


My Challenge to Healthcare Founders

Stop asking:

“Where can I put AI?”

Ask:

“Where is context disappearing?”

Then:

“What does that loss cost?”

Then:

“Who is compensating for it?”

Then:

“Could the system preserve it earlier?”

That is where interesting companies begin.


My Challenge to Healthcare Leaders

Don't only measure the work your employees complete.

Measure the work your systems force them to do.

Those are not the same thing.

A brilliant employee can make a broken workflow look functional.

That doesn't mean the workflow is good.

It means the employee is good.

Don't accidentally turn your best people into human error-correction systems.


The Question I Want to Leave You With

What if the next major breakthrough in healthcare isn't more data?

What if it is less data loss?

What if the next great healthcare AI company doesn't win because its model is slightly smarter?

What if it wins because its system knows:

where the information came from,

what it means,

when it was verified,

what it is connected to,

and what should happen next?

That is a much less glamorous pitch.

But perhaps a much more useful one.


Continue the Conversation

I'm interested in hearing from physicians, billers, practice managers, healthcare operators and founders:

Where does your organization lose context?

At scheduling?

Eligibility?

Prior authorization?

Documentation?

Coding?

Billing?

Claims?

Denials?

Patient communication?

Or somewhere between all of them?

Tell me what you've seen.

And if this article made you think of someone who has spent years quietly working around a broken healthcare workflow, send it to them.

Sometimes the person closest to the problem already knows the solution.

They just haven't been asked the right question.

Connect with Dr. Daniel Cham on LinkedIn

DrDanielCham.com

Listen on Spotify

Watch on YouTube

Follow on X

Follow on Facebook

Follow on SubStack


About the Author

Dr. Daniel Cham is a physician, medical consultant and healthcare entrepreneur focused on the intersection of medicine, healthcare operations, medical technology and medical billing.

He is the founder of OnnX, an emerging healthcare technology venture focused on helping physician-owned practices rethink how clinical and administrative information moves through the revenue cycle.

His central thesis is simple:

Healthcare billing is a data-quality problem, not merely a tooling problem.

Dr. Cham writes about healthcare operations, physician entrepreneurship, medical technology, AI, medical billing and the practical realities of building better healthcare infrastructure.


Disclaimer

This article is provided for educational and informational purposes only. It is not medical, legal, coding, compliance, reimbursement, financial or other professional advice.

Healthcare requirements vary by patient, payer, contract, organization and jurisdiction. Appropriate professional guidance should be obtained for specific clinical, legal, reimbursement, privacy, security or compliance decisions.


A Note on the Human Story

The father and daughter described in the opening Washington Post account were not publicly identified by full name, and I have intentionally not invented names for them.

That matters.

The story belongs to a real family.

The researchers can be identified because their professional roles and statements were publicly reported. The caregiver accounts themselves remain anonymous in the published reporting.

The second account includes a man named Joe, who was identified in the caregiver's account as her husband. The Washington Post did not provide his surname.

That distinction is worth preserving.

Accuracy is part of context too.


Sources & Further Reading

Margaret Hetherman, The Washington Post — “Some dementia patients grow lucid near the end. Scientists hope it’s a clue.” — September 25, 2026.

The primary current-week source for the human stories, Joan Griffin's research and the LEAD Network conference.

American Medical Association — 2025 Prior Authorization Physician Survey, published May 2026.

The current AMA survey reports an average of 40 prior authorization requests per physician per week, 13 hours of physician/staff time per week, 94% reporting a contribution to burnout, and 74% reporting increased denials over five years.

Duke University — Heather Whitson and the Lucidity in Alzheimer’s and Dementia Network.

Useful background on the research effort studying unexpected lucidity in dementia.


Featured Resource

For physicians and clinic owners interested in the broader problem of upstream data quality, context preservation and deterministic revenue-cycle workflows, visit the Featured section of my LinkedIn profile.

No hype.

No “AI will replace everyone.”

No magic wand.

Just a different question:

What if we fixed the information before we had to fix the claim?


Final Thought

The healthcare industry has spent decades becoming better at processing information.

The next decade may require us to become much better at preserving meaning.

Because somewhere between the patient and the claim, something important gets lost.

And sometimes the most important thing in the entire system is the thing that never made it into the database.

The patient.


References

  1. Hetherman, Margaret. “Some dementia patients grow lucid near the end. Scientists hope it’s a clue.” The Washington Post, September 25, 2026.
    Primary source for the opening story, Joan M. Griffin’s research, the “Hi, Dad / Hi, Honey” account, and the current discussion of paradoxical and terminal lucidity. Read the Washington Post article
  2. Duke University School of Medicine. “When the fog lifts: Pioneering a new frontier in Alzheimer’s and dementia research.” August 11, 2026.
    Provides current background on Heather Whitson’s research and the scientific questions surrounding unexpected periods of lucidity in advanced dementia. Read the Duke University research article
  3. American Medical Association. “AMA survey: Prior authorization reform pledge falls short with physicians.” 2026.
    Source for the current physician survey figures cited in the article, including an average of 40 prior authorizations per week, 13 hours of physician/staff time, 94% reporting a contribution to burnout, and 74% reporting increased denials over five years. Read the AMA survey

#Healthcare #MedicalBilling #HealthcareAI #HealthTech #DigitalHealth #HealthcareInnovation #PhysicianEntrepreneur #MedicalTechnology #RevenueCycleManagement #IndependentPractice #PracticeManagement #HealthcareOperations #PatientExperience #ClinicalDocumentation #AIinHealthcare #HealthcareLeadership #Dementia #PatientCenteredCare #Physicians #HealthcareTransformation

 

The Most Important Healthcare Outcome Was Never Measured

What Brooklyn Dotson, Michael Waters, and Noah Waters can teach us about medical billing, invisible outcomes, and why healthcare keeps fixin...