This is the view from my balcony of this ultra-mod and trendy Orlando hotel.
This is also the soap included in the room.
If you are wondering why I took such a beautiful photo and also deliberately included my bath soap, wonder no more. The view from my window is about as pretty as Orlando gets – the view represents the potential technology could bring to the healthcare world – it’s by no means a perfectly beautiful city but at least it’s nice and warm. The view of the soap represents the technology available to physicians today. It’s just a damn piece of round soap. Nobody ever told the designer of this piece of soap that it’s really friggin’ hard to wash your body with a round piece of soap. This is the reason why Dove, Lever, etc.. shape their soap in contours consistent with the roundedness of the human body – so it’s easy to maneuver in your hand and over your body. Unfortunately, my bathing experience here in Orlando is similar to washing my body with a slippery hockey puck. It even kind of hurt.
Staring at all these “rounded soap” screens getting countless demos from the ultra-informative reps for these technology companies hurt much more than that soap hockey puck. I asked one (from e-mds.com) if they were planning on cleaning up the interface to make it more intuitive. He gave me a very confused look and said “No…you just have to get used to it. I mean, I’ve been working on this system for years and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Translation: Here’s a soap hockey puck. Don’t worry, after using it for a month you’ll get used to it and you’ll probably get so used to it, you won’t even remember that contoured soap exists. You’ll even start buying hockey puck soap at the store.
I feel sorry for all of you doctors out there looking to invest in technology. Give me a few months. The product I produce for you will be prettier than my photography. And of course, less functional than the bloatware.
Thanks for listening. I’m off to the shower.
UPDATE: I spent more time dropping the soap than using it. Luckily I’m not sharing a prison cell with Mr. HIMSS.