Last Thursday the United States made the long-anticipated switch to ICD-10. At UCSF it has so far been smooth, although we won’t be declaring victory until the revenue cycle is complete for several turns.
On cutover night, our resident EHR poet laurate and revenue cycle analyst, the multitalented Sam Marcus, commemorated the event with the following poem. Read it aloud for rhythm and meter, your ICD-10 fellow travelers will surely appreciate it.
‘Twas the night of cutover, and all through the house
Not so much as a W53.01 (bit by mouse)
The code sets were loaded; the build was all done
(an aside: Carpal Tunnel’s G56.01)
The toddler was nestled all snug in his bed
To avoid W06.1-ing his head
And I was asleep, though I’d be up at three
To kick stage two conversions off in P-R-D
I was thrust from my slumber by noise like a bomb
H93.19? No- my iPhone; time to log on.
Away! To my laptop I slunk like molasses!
All bleary-eyed (not H52.1; don’t need glasses)
And what ‘fore my sleep-sagging face did appear
But a huge system update- this could take all year!
Please wait while the drivers, the message explained
Resolve digital M84.3’s (fracture, strain)
“Now, @#$&er ! *Now*, #*@&!er!” I raised cry and hue,
Briefly presenting F95.2
To the top of the stairs! (where the rail meets the wall)
I Y01’d my computer (assault, method: fall)
It quickly contracted S00.33
And I threatened to append to the end an “XD”
The long-story-short is the laptop complied
I logged in, ran conversions, then sat back and sighed
Our dual coding’s finished; cutover’s begun
We’ll see how things look when our first claim run’s done
As visions of PTO danced through my head
I R53.82’d back to bed.