By HANS DUVEFELT
I love cars and dislike computers.
My car takes me where I need to go, but it also gives me pleasure along the way. I have had it for just about ten years now and I have driven it almost 300,000 miles. It feels like an extension of me. Everything about it is just perfect for the way I drive and the things I need to do with it. From the sumptuously cavernous interior to the rugged all wheel drive features and the studded Finnish snow tires, it takes me pretty much anywhere, anytime. Why anyone would want to travel in a car without the sublime pleasure of driving it is beyond my comprehension.
My computers, on the other hand, are things I avoid whenever I can. My work laptop is an awkward Windows machine. Need I say more? Whatever it does happens stiltedly and unintuitively behind layers of barriers and firewalls that make me sign in again and again until I get to a pathetically clumsy EMR.
My MacBook Pro is slimmer and slicker but it gives me no pleasure to use it, I’m sorry to say.
Every word I have written and published – about as many words as I have miles on my car – has been put down on the virtual keyboard of my iPad. It feels more like an extension of my brain. I use it in bed, by the fireplace, in the barn or on the lawn. I can even talk into it without a microphone or any special software. I touch the screen and magic happens: Apps open, fonts and colors change and the world is at my fingertips, wherever I am.
The work I do remotely for my downstate clinic happens on my iPad and iPhone. That EMR works totally smoothly on my portable devices; the app is so much more modern and intuitive than the computer version.
Some people derive pleasure from the computer itself. I cringe when I have to use it. But driving is a sensual experience, whether it is my commute through the north woods or weekend drive along the Aroostook River through Fort Fairfield to Tractor Supply in Presque Isle. Shifting the manumatic 7-speed transmission with the steering wheel paddles so as not leaning on the brakes, accelerating gently through each curve for better traction, I am one with my machine.
I derive no pleasure from the process of getting my thoughts from my brain to the medical record. I just want it over and done. So if this Country Doctor had to choose between the future prospects of a driverless car or a driverless, keyboardless EMR, he wouldn’t hesitate for a split second.
(Written on my iPad)
Hans Duvefelt is a Swedish-born rural Family Physician in Maine. This post originally appeared on his blog, A Country Doctor Writes, here.
