A Business Case for Branded Primary Healthcare Services In India

This winter Delhi has been smothered with fog or rather smog. While, I am one of those who enjoy the cold and love my walks in the neighbourhood park, pretty much like almost everyone else in this city I am not immune to the cough, cold and the respiratory track infections that that the damp and the cold brings.

I have been struggling with a bad cough for the last few days and have been wondering that it is perhaps about time I saw a family physician. Unfortunately, we do not have a regular family physician and I am not sure where to go. I also know if the problem worsens and a fever materialises I would go and see a specialist at Max Hospital and with a course of antibiotics I would be fine.

However, this is not the way it is meant to be. For something like this shouldn’t I be going to a neighbourhood clinic and getting the problem fixed before it became bad enough for me to see a specialist at a big hospital? And this brings me to the point that we need good quality and reliable primary healthcare in our neighboourhoods. There is a significant business opportunity here waiting to be tapped.

A Little bit of History

Apollo Hospitals tried setting up Apollo Clinics a few years ago. I was part of the founding team, which went into planning the clinics and the business around them. Apollo however was clear that it was not going to own or fund these clinics. They were supposed to be franchised with Apollo providing medical knowhow, its brand name, some of its doctors and IT support connecting the clinics with the hospitals. Ratan Jalan the than CEO had a vision of opening 200 clinics in 3 years. The clinics were supposed to provide outpatient services, namely consulting with doctors, diagnostic imaging services which included an X-Ray and an Ultrasound basic cardiology diagnostics like an ECG and a Treadmill test and a pathology sample collection centre. We sold some of these franchises and the Apollo Clinics started functioning with the first one commencing operations in Janakpuri in New Delhi. The owners were businessmen running a computer hardware store in Nehru Place and had no prior experience of healthcare. Similarly a few other clinics were also franchised and were set up in Delhi, Kolkata, Bangalore and elsewhere . However, it became apparent early on that Apollo was hardly serious about this business. They were keen on netting more patients for their large hospitals through this network and saw these as no more than referring centres and the support that was promised to the franchise owners never materialised. The smarter ones quickly realised that in this new business they were pretty much on their own, learnt the ropes of this new business fast and managed to survive. Many did, many shut shop. Apollo was hardly bothered with any of this.

Max Healthcare too experimented with Dr. Max Clinics in New Delhi. Two clinics were set up in South Delhi. Unlike Apollo, Max invested in the clinics and had no desire to franchise. This experiment unfortunately failed mainly because Max in those days was focussed on rolling out its large hospitals and these clinics did not get any management attention. They were just not worth the trouble in the larger scheme of things and were closed down after a few years of experimentation.

The Learnings

While Apollo and Max both tried to set up Primary Healthcare Clinics, they were hardly serious attempts at the business. Apollo did not want to invest and was keen on skimming profits at the cost of the hapless franchisees and Max was just not ready at that point in time for something like this.

Apollo Clinics had a large upfront investment of approx. Rs. 20MN in the venture and since they themselves were not investing, they allowed the costs to go up and with the franchisee not knowing any better, they got away with this. When we crunched the numbers at Max we realised that a fairly decent clinic can be set up for as much as INR 5-7 MN.

The biggest challenge really here was about getting quality doctors (Family Physicians, Paediatricians, Internal Medicine, Obs and Gynae and Cardiologists) to join the clinic. Since the clinic is a very local enterprise one would want to pull in local doctors. However, we discovered at Max that many of them were just not interested as they saw the clinic as serious competition. They were afraid that if they moved to a Dr. Max Clinic and asked their patients to come there, the patients in future might prefer the superior and more professional services of the clinic. We tried hard to convince the local doctors that we sought a win win partnership but it really did not go anywhere.

The solution thus lies in forging a relationship with the local prominent doctors, which safeguards their economic interests. This can be achieved by asking them to invest in the venture. Thus 50% of the ownership of the clinic can reside with the lead consultants in the clinic. Thus let us say a sum of INR 2.5-3.5MN can be invested by the doctors and the balance by the entrepreneur, who sets up the business. A city like Delhi can easily absorb at least 100 such clinics and the model can be scaled up and rolled out across the country.

The clinics can than be established as a chain and can be marketed under a single brand name, 50% owned by an entrepreneur and 50% by local doctors. The clinics can all be connected under an IT backbone and data can be shared seamlessly. This can also open up enormous revenue possibilities from scientific research and allied work. Costs can be driven down by centralised purchasing and efficient supply chain management. Superior and unique customer experiences can be delivered through processes integrations and people training. I personally believe time has come for these clinics to emerge and claim their rightful place under the sun.

Finally, will this mean the McDonaldisation of primary healthcare in India? Well, may be yes, but than don’t we all love the neighbourhood McDonalds.

Pic Courtesy http://theapolloclinic.com/CorMainArticle.asp?Id=3

Why some of our doctors have such poor bedside manners?

I have often thought about, why some of our doctors have such poor bedside manners and never more so since my father’s surgery.

My father underwent an urgent Prostate Surgery earlier this week. The surgery was conducted at one of the most well-known and if I may add, sought after hospitals in South Delhi. The hospital and the surgeon are familiar to me from many years and yet this is what happened one evening.

The surgery in the morning had been uneventful and the surgeon was happy with my father’s progress. In the evening as my wife and I sat in his room in the hospital, two gentlemen barged in and started examining my father. They lowered his pyjamas for the examination, chatted with each other, assured him that all was well and walked off. As they were leaving I asked them who they were and one of them introduced himself as an associate of my father’s surgeon and left.

Now here is my problem.

I have no idea who these people were. They wore no surgeon’s gowns, they had no telltale stethoscope around their necks. They marched into our room without a knock and proceeded to examine a patient, without his permission. They removed his pyjamas for an examination, with two people sitting in the room and the door wide open. I was shocked to witness this humiliation and I could feel my father’s acute discomfort.

To the doctors, strangely nothing appeared to be amiss! When I stepped out to have a word with these gentlemen and pointed out their completely unacceptable behaviour, they appeared surprised that a patient’s attendant has the gall to question them and arrogantly dismissed me saying that if I had any complaints I needed to address those to my surgeon! They did not deem it fit to utter a word of apology for their appalling conduct.

All this at as I said earlier at one of Delhi’s finest and most expensive hospital.

Why do some doctor’s treat their patients as if they do not exist or matter? I believe this is primarily because we patients allow them to. In India, a career in medicine enjoys tremendous social prestige and doctors are treated with enormous amount of respect. We bestow on our doctors God like powers of life and death and since in our eyes they are Gods, we refuse to see their shortcomings and failings. Gods afterall can treat us, the mere mortals, as they please.

To make matters worse, most of our doctors receive their training in government hospitals, where the poor and the uneducated see these doctors in their shiny white coats and stethoscopes as people from another world. In these hospitals overflowing with people from ‘darkness’ (to borrow a word from Arvind Adiga’s ‘The White Tiger’) they are treated as the lords and the masters of all whom they survey. These doctors from an early stage in their training imbibe these behavioural patterns and one assumes that in later life, in different hospitals and while treating educated folks, the old habits refuse to die.

Lastly I also believe, that parental and peer pressure force many a youngster to choose medicine as a career, while they just do not have the calling. The admission procedures are also flawed as they test knowledge but not aptitude. Thus we have doctors, who have no business being doctors. They are trapped in a glorified profession from which there truly is no escape. Can we really blame them for (mis)treating patients the way they do?

How do we cope with such arrogant and errant doctors? Well, I see no reason why we cannot simply ask them to treat us better. Their ego may stand in the way of apologising or showing contrition, but I am sure they will think twice about being discourteous the next time around.

And that should be a good enough start.

PS:Lest this sounds like a diatribe against doctors I hasten to add that I also know many very competent doctors who treat patients with great courtesy and professionalism. They are warm individuals, love their profession, have great compassion for the sick and look upon their profession as nothing less than a calling. They not only treat but heal and that is where the real difference lies.

PicCourtesy: http://thyroid.about.com/b/2008/08/19/six-rules-doctors-need-to-know-and-six-ways-to-be-a-better-patient.htm

My experiences at the Indraprastha Apollo Hospitals

The other day I landed at the Indraprastha Apollo Hospitals, a stone’s throw away from my residence in New Delhi. My wife needed a test and our doctor at Max Healthcare asked us to get it done at Apollo as the equipment at Max was out of order. The moment I walked in I felt as if I was on a railway platform. The hospital was full of patients as everybody appeared to be in a mad rush. In the OPD area, the ladies at the reception were busy, chatting amongst themselves, while patients and their caregivers waited for their attention. They wore no uniforms and for some strange reason, they were also collecting cash from the patients (apparently for the doctor’s consulting charges) and handing out receipts scribbled on small chits, which did not even have the hospital’s name on it.

Strangely, I was than directed to a cash counter to pay for the tests.

Since my wife needed some injections we were asked to go to the pharmacy and buy them, bring them back to the treatment room in the OPD area, where a nurse would help us with the shots. As we wound our way back to the Pharmacy we discovered that buying medicines is a huge chore. We submitted our prescription at a counter in the pharmacy and were handed over tokens and asked to wait. There was no place where one could even stand, without being pushed around. After being jostled around for 30 mins, we managed to buy the medicines, only to discover that we also needed to buy the disposable syringes, which the doctor had forgotten to mention on the prescription. So lo and behold the charade of the tokens was repeated.

During all this I counted 18 people inside the pharmacy store and the two guys who handed me the medicines and accepted my cash kept chatting with each other in a south Indian tongue, without bothering to pay any attention to me whatsoever.

We returned to the OPD and were directed to room no. 15 for the shots. This room was locked and we were than directed to a paediatric immunisation room full of anxious parents and bawling kids. This is where my wife managed to get the shots she needed. We wasted more than an hour in all this and ran around the hospital OPD trying to get some very basic services. The staff was uniformly disinterested in us, poorly trained and too busy to attend to us. Fortunately, the test my wife needed was routine and she is in good health. I can just about imagine the plight of patients and their care givers flocking to this hospital and being shunted around by a callous system, which barely works.

And now here is what happened when I came to collect her reports two days later.

I called up the hospital to check if the reports were ready. On being informed that I could collect these by 8 PM, I agreed to stop by to pick these up. As I walked in at about quarter to 8 in the evening I discovered a security guard merrily locking up the report collection area. He directed me to take another door into the radiology reception and 5 minutes later, when I walked in I found the lights switched off, the guard had also disappeared and there was not a soul to be found. Perplexed, I walked into another adjacent room and found someone busy on the phone.

As I explained my predicament, this gentleman informed that I was late and that the staff usually left 15-20 minutes earlier than closing time! Amazed and incensed at all this I asked to be directed to someone, whom I could lodge a complaint with. Much to my disbelief I was told to approach the Emergency Medical Officer in the Emergency!

At the reception in the Emergency, I found myself explaining my situation to a young man, who was simultaneously trying to answer questions from an anxious gentleman, whose father had just been brought in with severe chest pain!!! The emergency medical officer, who was supposed to record my complaint was predictably busy with a patient and I was asked to wait. After about 30 minutes of watching the bedlam of a busy Emergency room with no one paying me the slightest attention, I raised my voice (and in the process added to the chaos) and demanded to see the highest ranking hospital official to record my complaint.

I was than informed that the Night Duty Manager will now attend to me soon. Another wait of about 15 minutes followed and yet no one showed up. I again screamed at someone and in another 10 mins a nurse walked out looking for me. She understood my problem, asked me to wait and went to fetch my reports. She returned in a while with my reports and gently admonished me for being so late and irresponsible in collecting my documents.

This is a true story of Delhi’s only JCI accredited hospital. God help us all!!!

So much for my ‘Indian Hospital Experience’

While trawling the net I came across a blog (http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/India/National-Capital-Territory/Delhi/blog-440604.html) about the travails of an American, getting treated for a mole/wart/skin cancer in New Delhi. The experience narrated in this post is exactly the kind of stuff we do not want. I am amazed at some of the narration and the stereotyping this does of the Indian doctors and medical system.

The blog has a semi mad sardarji (sikh) as a doctor who speaks and understands no English, laughs at his own jokes in Hindi and does not understand the difference between a mole and a pimple. The doctor has never heard of the United States and knows America, a country whose citizens are rich and ripe for fleecing. The doctor prescribes lotions and creams for treating the mole, which are not available at his own pharmacy and the patient (the author) walks out, having parted with Rs. 500 and nothing to show for it. Astoundingly, this gentleman returns to the clinic of the mad sardarji, encounters a ‘wildeyed’ patient on a wheelchair, and asks the doctor to burn off the offending mole in the emergency room next door.

Can you really believe this? A dermatologist who knows no English, does not know what the US is, prescribes lotions for treating moles and does strange surgery in his ER. All this in Delhi. To me this sounds stranger than fiction.

One can not study medicine in India unless one knows English as the language of instruction in medical schools across the country is English. I refuse to believe that there exists a dermatologist, who can’t differentiate between a pimple and a mole and if I ever encountered, will I let him treat me not once but twice! Come to think of it, will I let someone operate on me if their was a serious language barrier, when I am not sure if the doctor/surgeon understands the problem. If I agree to all this, than it is me who is playing with fire and taking completely unacceptable risks.

I am willing to grant that the author might have been lured to a quack’s place by someone. However, his complete gullibility and his willingness to try out this kind of treatment, which one would instinctively recoil from appears to be a product of his imagination. This as I said earlier only reinforces Indian stereotypes of a land of great mystery, faith healing, strange medical practices and half crazy doctors.

I am sure this makes for great reading back home.

However, what it also does is that it mocks at the great advances India has made in medicine. It paints a very distorted picture of Indian healthcare. India has some of the most modern hospitals and qualified medical personnel, which attract thousands of foreign patients every year. While, there is no denying that there are quacks and the like who exist, not going to a qualified dermatologist for the removal of a mole and continuing with the treatment of a doctor/quack who does not understand ones language will be considered foolhardy anywhere in the world.

Let us have none of this kind of crap.

Pic courtesy http://www.flickr.com/photos/robotalphabet/2693142482/