For much of her life Anne Brooks, DO, was a patient, and then she became a doctor, and through her journey learned what caring is all about. Brooks is a Roman Catholic nun and 72 years old, and works in Tutwiler, MS, an impoverished flat country of cotton and blues near the Mississippi Delta. Many of her patients cannot pay, are "incredibly sick," and wouldn't have a clue what a wellness program is. Those stricken with diabetes, have "their minds blasted with sugar," she says.
"We are dealing with a lot of sick people," says Brooks, an osteopathic physician. "It's challenging."
Oh, and one other thing: "It's a lot of fun," she says.
Brooks and I were on the phone the other day, and she expressed her unwavering love of patient care, as well as the terrific need to bridge the gap between poverty and healthcare policy. And she discussed her constant pitches for donations, as well as her venture into the land of electronic medical records. As a CEO of a health clinic in town, it's something she just has to do.
Anne Eurcharistia (which means thanksgiving in Greek) Brooks became a nun with the Sisters of Holy Name of Jesus and Mary at age 17, and within seven years was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. She lived with a back brace and wheelchair for the next 17 years.
And then her life as a patient and physician collided, happily.
While teaching in Florida, Brooks was treated by a specialist in chronic pain, who used osteopathic manipulation of her joints and acupuncture and changed her diet. Eventually, she not only got out of the wheelchair, but also was inspired to become a doctor. She went to Michigan State University College of Osteopathic Medicine and earned her doctorate at 44.
Two decades ago, Brooks resurrected a clinic in Tutwiler that had been shut down for years. When she arrived in the town of now 1,200 people, there were no nearby doctors, she says. That's what attracted her to the delta to begin with. The poverty. The need. The average household income is $23,000 per year.
Brooks wanted to not only start at the economic bottom, but also stay there, she says. When she took over the clinic, the local press reported at the time patients paid with catfish and collard greens. The Tutwiler clinic is funded in part by the Catholic organization.
Mississippi is one of the states challenging the constitutionality of the healthcare reform law. The state's lawsuit bothers her a great deal, Brooks says. The state is suing the government because the governor "doesn't' want to be forced to buy insurance for the marginalized and the poor," she says.
If healthcare reform stays in place – uncertain, in part, with the GOP takeover of the House – "people will have better options, and hopefully get better education, and insurance to care for themselves," Brooks says. "Here we have a very poorly educated population that has no clue on how to take care of themselves."
A major aspect of her work is to help educate the patients. And that involved educating herself, Brooks says.
One of those elements was the need to embrace technology, even though some physicians are reluctant to do so. She says she'll do "whatever it takes to improve the quality of life for my community."
Two internists Brooks knew a while back were discussing medical records, and that got her interested in such programs. Eventually, she received a grant, and now, "electronic records are very exciting," Brooks says. The clinic purchased a Sage Intergy system that she says makes it more concise with her medical charting and dictation. The end result is more efficiency and savings, she says.
With the technology, the practice continues to evolve, and she continues to administrate the constant flow of care and need, Brooks says. The electronic records help in so many ways, big and small, she says. "My handwriting is small and my nurse scrawls. She no longer has to constantly ask her associates, "What did you say?'
"I don't want a barrier between me and my patients," she says.
More than 21,000 patients are listed in her fairly new database. "We try to set up projects with the hospital and get a discount when they order a CAT scan or something," she says. "I see Medicaid patients after they have gone to their own doctor for their 12 visits and use (the payments) up."
The local hospital doesn't have electronic medical records, but is heading in that direction soon, and she's happy for that. "They didn't have a yardstick to measure performance," Brooks says of hospital officials. "I'd invite them over and show them stuff (on her computer)." She's involved in a local task force to encourage healthcare workers to be knowledgeable about electronic medical records.
Learning the new electronic programs isn't easy, she says. "My personal transition has been pretty time consuming, but it's worth it," Brooks says.
Even though she doesn't use a wheelchair, pain and exhaustion shadow her daily routine. To this day, she isn't sure if she had rheumatoid arthritis or not. "They say it was a misdiagnosis," she says. There was a possibility it was Lyme disease, Brooks adds.
She begins each day at 5:30 a.m. and usually ends it at 7:30 p.m. She sees her patients, but knows that she must take time off each day so her body recuperates. "If I wash the car, for example, and I don't lie down, the muscles ache all afternoon," Brooks says. " If I take a 10 minute break, I'm OK," she says. When her colleagues sit down for lunch, "I go home and take a nap," she says.
Although she is being dubbed the "high tech nun" in the community, Brooks says, in effect: Let's not be ridiculous.
Brooks acknowledges that she straddles between the old world, of print, and the electronic era. She still makes house calls, and in those situations, she sticks to her notebook and pad, with a clipboard, and still relies occasionally on simply keeping information stored in her head, not a computer.
"I like to draw pictures and need to write stuff down," she says.
Still, Brooks has dreams for her clinic to one day to fully coordinate computer technology with nearby hospital labs where "everyone's data entries would be dumped to make things easier," she says.
Ah, she says. "I'd do it one of these days if we found a rich uncle."
Joe Cantlupe is a senior editor with HealthLeaders Media Online.
