Utopian
Since my background is heavily rooted in the health care world, after reading these weeks readings and listening to the podcasts I couldn’t help but relate it to the world I am always fully immersed in 24/7 (or close to it). This story is my take on a utopian speculative narrative of our relationship with technology in thirty years from today.
The year is 2051, I was about to head into work, however I am feeling a quiet under the weather today so I’m going to pop by the emergency room to see what they say.
As I walked into the emergency room I am scanned by what almost looks like an airport security body scanner – this is a device ensuring I don’t have any transmissible illnesses as I enter the hospital, and determines what PPE as a patient ill have to either wear or not in the waiting room, this device became the norm after the 2021 pandemic. This really keeps patients and staff safe because it can predetermine presence of influenza for example and a mask pops out for the patient to wear so immediately is contained. I have a bit of a cough and a sore throat, so my scan produced me with a mask.
After I am scanned, I walk over to the check in booth where I scan a barcode on my phone, which immediately puts me into a queue based on acuity of my visit. No line-ups, just a quick easy scan, where a barcode is assigned to my phone. As I’m waiting, there are holographic nurses asking a series of questions to other patients, just to make sure their acuity is determined correctly and accurately.
Finally my phone buzzes, after a short wait in the waiting room and I am moved into a room. Once placed in my room, a mini procedure robot comes in, scans my phone barcode and instructs me to roll my sleeve up for blood work. The bot sticks an infrared sticker onto my forearm where it immediately detects the best vein and takes my blood, labels the tubes with the same barcode and transports them to the lab. Then the robot gives me goggles to wear, as it scans my chest once with a laser to get a snap shot of my lungs. I can watch on my phone live time as my lab specimens are being processed – similar to the dominos pizza tracker from the early 2020’s.
My phone buzzes again “do you want to wait see an in person physician or our 24/7 holographic physician who can scan your lab reports and determine treatment immediately upon request”. Hmmm, ill opt for the holographic doctor, probably just need some medication and be on my way id assume. I select hologram doctor. Instantly, the doctor appears holographically in the room and transmits my lab reports and charts as 3D models beside her. The doctor then manipulates the numbers in front of me moving the numbers, enlarging the charts and showing me a 3D view of my lungs. “As per the following data it appears you have bronchitis. Please select Yes or No on your mobile device for your prescription to load to your phone, if you select no and would like to see a doctor please make that selection on your cell phone device. Have a great day and feel better!”
I select yes because I feel the hologram’s determination of my illness is correct and can be sent on my way, such an easy in and out visit at the hospital, using technology made it so efficient and so accessible mostly using my mobile device. I grab my prescription using the barcode on my phone and am able to make it home in a short amount of time.
Dystopian
In this version of the speculative narrative, I see the world as a healthcare worker instead of a patient, in how our relationship with technology in healthcare could have negative implications and repercussions.
As I walk into work, I am scanned as the patients are to see if I have any illnesses however the efficacy of this device is only as good as the humans who properly use it, just because a mask pops out doesn’t mean they wear it properly, or at all. Walking through it is a formality – to get to work, doesn’t stop anyone from entering, so here I am ready for another day of work.
Ever since the hospital introduced mobile scanning at the front desk, staff has been severely cut as the institution heavily relies on its devices – we just are here to ensure they are moving through smoothly. As I’m waiting in the back area of the emergency room I can hear patients scanning in their phones and I watch their cases get pegged onto the electronic queue without seeing them or interacting with them. I miss the days of interacting with all patients as they entered, and determining myself the level of acuity the patient had. The computer system queues people in accordance to what it thinks is correct, but there are certainly flaws in this system and the computer cannot always rank the acuity properly because it only looks at certain criteria. This causes a skew in the order patients are seen in – but hey what can I do, we are not able to override the system and have to trust the computers choices.
As I sit at my desk and just monitor patients coming and going, being checked in on by our hologram doctors, I sit back and remember the times I had full patient interaction and miss the days of talking to patients about their day and fully listening to their story. Often time’s patients select the hologram, agree to a treatment and leave, with the computerized system missing symptoms or signs of a different ailment. What patients also don’t get in their treatments and visit is a humanized experience where we have real empathy and concern for their visit while the computerized system simply cannot function in that manner. The computers pump out numbers and visits efficiently, while previously before these technological advancements, we cared for our patients in person and were able to provide compassionate, empathetic one on one care.
As I sit here at my desk, watching screens all day long of patient data being sorted and filed to make sure no human intervention is needed, I reminisce about the days where patients wanted that one on one contact and when I use to provide real care instead of being replaced by barcodes, cell phones and robotic procedural machines.
