(Health Informatics) Morris F. Collen, Marion J. Ball (Eds.) - The History of Medical Informatics in The United States-Springer-Verlag London (2015)
(Health Informatics) Morris F. Collen, Marion J. Ball (Eds.) - The History of Medical Informatics in The United States-Springer-Verlag London (2015)
Morris F. Collen
Marion J. Ball Editors
The History
of Medical
Informatics in
the United States
Second Edition
Health Informatics
More information about this series at http://www.springer.com/series/1114
Morris F. Collen • Marion J. Ball
Editors
How often does a person envision a new medical discipline and then live to see this
vision come into reality? He not only practiced his discipline, he established profes-
sional associations to promote it, and he mentored generations of practitioners. As
a result of his pioneering efforts, we now have a field of clinical informatics.
Information and communication technology is now used to improve health and
healthcare in our hospitals, our clinicians’ offices, our places of work, our schools,
and our homes. Physicians and nurses now train in clinical informatics, and physi-
cians can be board certified in what has become a new subspecialty.
One year ago, we celebrated Dr. Collen’s 100th birthday near his home in San
Francisco. Luminaries from the field of clinical informatics and health service
research came to reflect on their interactions with this great man and to celebrate the
field he grandfathered. After a day of celebrations, Dr. Collen delivered a 20-minute
talk that was insightful, modest, and caring.
The story of his life and work has been well told, by Howard Bleich at the time
of his 80th birthday, by Jochen Moehr on his 90th, and by Donald Lindberg and
Marion Ball on his 100th birthday. Published in MD Computing (1994;11(3):136–
139), the Journal of the American Medical Informatics Association (2003;10(6):613–
615), and Methods of Information in Medicine (2013;52(5):371–373), these
accounts stand as tributes to the man identified as “pioneer in computerized medi-
cine” in his obituary in The New York Times of October 5, 2014.
This book, the second edition of A History of Medical Informatics in the United
States, is not only a labor of Dr. Collen’s love for our field but is also a comprehen-
sive updating of his original work, first published in 1995. The same luminaries who
gathered to celebrate his life came forward to help to update, edit, and revise the
manuscript he left behind. Like the original, it serves as an invaluable resource
vii
viii Foreword I
ix
x Foreword II
the most advanced computers had less power than a watch today, he saw what was
possible and the ultimate potential for big data to revolutionize medical care. In
sharing ways we can harness information to take better care of patients in real-world
settings, this work stands as a beacon on the path to better healthcare for modern
society.
This volume is the legacy of Morris F. Collen, a vital force in medical informatics
in the United States since its birth. In the last years of his life, up until his death at
age 100 in September 2014, Dr. Collen – Morrie to many of us – worked every day
to update his History of Medical Informatics in the United States, published in 1995.
In the original edition, Morrie compiled a meticulously detailed chronological
record of significant events in the history of medical informatics and their impact on
direct patient care and clinical research. His intent was to offer a representative
sampling of published contributions to the field; his vision was that this would serve
as a useful bridge between medical informatics of the past and of the future.
As he revised his History, Morrie restructured the book, replacing the original
seven chapters with eighteen to reflect the transformation medical informatics had
undergone in the years since 1990. The systems that were once exclusively institu-
tionally driven – hospital, multihospital, and outpatient information systems – are
today joined by systems that are driven by clinical subspecialties, nursing, pathol-
ogy, clinical laboratory, pharmacy, imaging, and more. At the core is the person –
not the clinician, not the institution – whose health all these systems are designed to
serve, a foundational belief that guided Morrie throughout his career, from his early
work with multiphasic health testing, with the computer-based patient record at the
height of his career, and finally to the completion of this new History.
Of course he knew that time was not on his side and enlisted me to help. He
worked on the manuscript each day, and we spoke every evening by telephone. The
review was exacting, adding new material was time-consuming, and in the summer
before Morrie died, he asked me to assume control of the project and do what
needed to be done to see the History into print when he was no longer here. I real-
ized this was a daunting task with an ambitious goal, and, upon his death, I asked
his colleagues, the medical informatics community, for help.
Nineteen informaticians, whose names appear on the chapters in the finished
book, agreed to help. Most of them had known him for years. Several had been lead-
ers, along with Morrie, when the field was in its infancy, not yet named; others met
him and worked with him as the field grew and matured; and a lucky few claimed
xi
xii Preface
him as their mentor. Recognized leaders in medical informatics today (and many of
them recipients of the Morris F. Collen Award in Medical Informatics), they care-
fully reviewed the draft chapters, editing and updating the material Morrie left
behind. They gave of their time and expertise to bring Morrie’s work to comple-
tion – a task that proved more difficult than I and my colleagues had initially
imagined.
The chapters in the manuscript Morrie left behind were in different states of
completion and posed different challenges. Some colleagues edited chapters that
Morrie had spent considerable time revising; their task, as they saw it, was to do a
final edit on his behalf, smoothing or restructuring for clarity and, in some instances,
adding to and commenting on Morrie’s text. Other colleagues took on chapters that
Morrie was in the midst of revising; for them, the challenge was to add their insights
to Morrie’s while maintaining his vision. And three colleagues contributed the
chapter on imaging that Morrie had planned but not yet developed. All their efforts
honor Morrie and serve the field. To them I owe heartfelt thanks.
Like the field of medical informatics it describes, this new History reflects the
changes made possible by information technology. Like the earlier version that sits
on bookshelves around the country, it is available as a hardcover book. Comprehensive
in its coverage, it preserves much of the history recounted in the first edition – his-
tory now growing ever more distant and difficult to trace. This new History provides
an unrivaled repository of the literature – much of it in hard-to-locate proceedings
and reports from professional and industry groups – that guided informatics as it
matured. Yet it is much more than a repository. It sets forth Morrie’s last assess-
ments of the field he pioneered and cultivated, and it is enriched by the contributions
of his colleagues who reviewed his chapters and helped bring this volume to com-
pletion. Always collegial, Morrie himself would welcome these new perspectives
on the work that engaged him so completely up to the end of his life.
Mirroring the advances in healthcare computing it describes, this new History is
available as an e-book in its entirety or as individual chapters. Morrie prepared each
chapter to be complete unto itself, including all the information the reader needed to
understand the area covered. A quick chapter-by-chapter guide to the concepts and
topics discussed in this richly detailed book appears below. For readers, Morrie’s
approach and the guide mean quick and easy access to specific material when they
first seek it. Once downloaded, it can remain readily available, retrievable by a
mouse click or finger swipe. To all those who look to the evolving field of informat-
ics for tools and approaches to providing healthcare that is efficient, effective,
evidence-based, and of the highest quality possible, this is Morrie’s gift.
Marion J. Ball
A Brief Overview of Concepts and Topics
The short summaries below provide an overview of the material covered in this
lengthy and comprehensive volume:
Medical informatics as a distinct field, the origin of the term itself, and the various
nuances of the discipline as it has taken shape over the past six decades, with atten-
tion to roles played by publications, professional organizations, industry, academia,
and government.
xiii
xiv A Brief Overview of Concepts and Topics
Data for medical information systems; electronic patient records and the expanded
electronic health record; the evolution from separate databases to more integrated
models; and their role in capturing information for care, making it available in a
timely fashion and affecting the care process.
Early hospital information systems and the external factors influencing their devel-
opment, with descriptions of early systems; admission, discharge, and transfer sys-
tems and the evolution of concept sharing during development; and functional
requirements and technical designs.
Early development of specialized systems for intensive care units and emergency
departments; current status and interoperability challenges arising from incompati-
ble equipment for intensive care and the exchange of patient information between
emergency department and other settings.
A Brief Overview of Concepts and Topics xv
Functional and technical requirements for various medical subspecialties and the
development of systems to support their differing needs, focusing primarily on
internal medicine, surgery, obstetrics/gynecology, pediatrics, and mental health
subspecialties.
Requirements for specimen processing and analysis, their early evolution and evalu-
ation; special characteristics of lab subsystems for chemistry, hematology, microbi-
ology, and other specialized analyses; developments in result and interpretive
analysis reporting.
Systems for public and personal health testing; public health monitoring; multipha-
sic health testing and systems to automate it and the integration of those functions
into the electronic patient record; development of advanced biosurveillance systems
and public health informatics.
Evolution of tools and knowledge bases for decision support, administrative and
quality management, and clinical decision making; the National Library of Medicine
as a major resource provider; development of methods for data mining, data analyt-
ics, and knowledge discovery.
Analysis of the past six decades; projections for the next decade, including trans-
forming trends: an aging population with multiple diseases and polypharmacy;
mHealth and personal biosensors; patient genotyping; cloud computing and big
data; patient data security; public health in disaster scenarios.
Robert A. Greenes
Judith V. Douglas
Marion J. Ball
Acknowledgments
Let me open by thanking the most important person of all, Morris F. Collen, who
would first thank his late wife Bobbie, who persuaded him to enter the field of medi-
cine. This was and is his book, even after so many others have helped to complete
it. Honored for his pioneering work in medical informatics, Morrie is remembered
as well for his generosity of spirit and would join with me in thanking all those I
mention below for help in bringing this volume to publication.
Kaiser Permanente, Morrie’s professional home throughout his career and his
long and productive retirement, continued their support for his work even after his
death. Their unwavering commitment to seeing his new History into print never
wavered and kept me on course. My heartfelt thanks go to Lincoln Cushing,
Archivist, Kaiser Permanente Heritage Resources; Bryan Culp, Archivist Emeritus;
Tracy Lieu, Director, and Joe Selby, Gary Friedman, and Ted Van Brunt, former
Directors of the Kaiser Permanente Division of Research; Joe Terdiman and Jamila
Gul, who worked with Morrie in Research; Brenda Cooke and Marlene Rozofsky
Rogers, the Research librarians upon whom Morrie relied; and Morrie’s many col-
leagues and friends in the Division of Research. I am also deeply grateful to Robert
Pearl, Executive Director and CEO; Francis J. Crosson, Sharon Levine, Phil Madvig,
and Holly Ruehlin, of The Permanente Medical Group, for their unflagging support
of Morrie’s work; and to the Board of Directors and Executive Staff of The
Permanente Medical Group for their consistent and ongoing support of the Morris
F. Collen Research Award since 2003.
I owe a tremendous debt to all my colleagues from the world of informatics
whose names appear elsewhere in this volume, alongside the chapters they com-
pleted. Several among them did still more. Bob Greenes served as my adviser
throughout, looking at the overall structure of the book; preparing the short descrip-
tions of each chapter that appear elsewhere in the front matter; recruiting two emi-
nent colleagues, Brad Erickson and Ron Arenson, to join with him in authoring the
one completely new chapter on imaging that Morrie had envisioned; and taking
Morrie’s vision forward in the final chapter of the book. John Silva helped recruit
Mike Becich, who in turn enlisted Alexis Carter; and Harold Lehmann helped bring
on Bob Miller and involve Anne Seymour in the project.
xvii
xviii Acknowledgments
At the Johns Hopkins University, Anne Seymour, Director of the Welch Medical
Library, and Associate Director Stella Seal committed valuable staff time to com-
plete the reference work for this volume. Associate Director and Senior Reference
Specialist Ivy Linwood Garner served as lead, together with Reference Specialists
Christopher Henry and Vivian McCall.
Charles Ball, Debbie Ball, Alex Ball, and Ryan Ball located materials for Morrie
and brought them to him to use in his research. Evelyn Graetz and Rabbi Robert
Graetz of Temple Isaiah helped Morrie every day, and Vicki Shambaugh of the
Pacific Health Research and Education Institute urged him on. Randall Collen,
Morrie’s son, and John Ball, my husband, offered continued belief in this project,
and Matthew Douglas, Judy Douglas’s son, helped check citations and prepare the
materials that appear at the back of the book.
I would like to thank Grant Weston at Springer, who unstintingly supported
Morrie over the last few years, encouraging him to complete Computer Medical
Databases in 2012 and agreeing to see this new History of Medical Informatics
through the publication process after Morrie’s death.
Finally, I want to acknowledge Judy Douglas, who has spent the last six months
almost full time working with all of the contributing editors and coauthors as well
as with the Johns Hopkins Welch Medical Library staff to bring this work to frui-
tion. Years ago, Judy helped Morrie and me bring Aspects of the Computer-Based
Patient Record (Springer, 1992) to publication. That experience and Judy’s memory
of reading the first edition of The History of Medical Informatics in the United
States when it was still in manuscript form made her determined to make this new
edition measure up to the first – and to the standards of excellence that characterized
Morrie professionally and personally.
Marion J. Ball
Contents
Part I Prologue
1 The Development of Digital Computers................................................ 3
Morris F. Collen and Casimir A. Kulikowski
2 The Creation of a New Discipline .......................................................... 75
Morris F. Collen and Edward H. Shortliffe
xix
xx Contents
Part IV Epilogue
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future .................................................. 725
Morris F. Collen and Robert A. Greenes
xxi
xxii Contributors
Abstract In the 1950s, the transistor replaced the vacuum tubes that had empow-
ered Eniac, Colossus, and other early computers in the 1940s. In the 1960s and
1970s, computing moved from slow, expensive mainframes to faster mini- and
microcomputers and multiprocessors, empowered by chip technology and inte-
grated circuits, and leveraged by increasingly sophisticated operating systems and
programming languages. By the 1980s, commercially available programs were able
to perform commonly needed computational functions. With the growth of com-
puter capabilities and computer storage capacities, database technology and data-
base management systems gave rise to the development of distributed database
systems. Efficient computer-stored databases proved essential to many medical
computing applications, making vast amounts of data available to users. Over time
computer applications became more numerous and complex, with software claim-
ing a larger fraction of computing costs. Display terminals and clinical workstations
offered graphic displays and supported structured data entry and reporting. Devices,
such as the mouse, light pens, touch screens, and input technologies, such as speech
and handwriting recognition, were developed to ease the user’s tasks and foster
physician acceptance. Over the same span of time, computer communications
evolved as well, moving from copper wire to fiber optic cable and, most recently, to
wireless systems. The Internet and the World Wide Web became the main modes
used for local and global communications. By the 2010s laptops replaced desktop
computers, and tablets and smart phones were commonplace in health care.
In the latter part of the nineteenth century, John Shaw Billings, a physician and the
director of the Army Surgeon General’s Library (later to become the National
Library of Medicine) initiated a series of events that led to the development of the
modern digital computer in the United States [114]. Asked to assist the Census
Bureau with the 1880 and with the 1890 census, Billings suggested to Hollerith, an
engineer, that there should be a machine for doing the purely mechanical work of
tabulating population and similar statistics. Hollerith used paper cards the size of a
dollar bill, allowing him to store the cards using Treasury Department equipment
and eliminate the need for new storage devices. Descriptions were printed on the
edge of the cards for individual data items punched into corresponding specific
locations on the card [6]. In 1882 Hollerith invented the paper punch card with 288
locations for holes, punched out by a hand-operated device, until he built a machine
for electrically punching the holes; and next he built machines for reading and sort-
ing the punched cards. The 1890 census data on 62 million people were processed
in 1 month using 56 of Hollerith’s machines. In 1896 Hollerith established the
Tabulating Machines Company which became the Computing-Tabulating-Recording
(CTR) Corporation in 1911, but soon after lost most of its business to a rival more
up-to-date firm. However, when Thomas J. Watson Sr. joined the CTR Corporation
and became its executive in 1918, CTR recovered, and in 1924 changed its name to
the International Business Machines (IBM) Corporation. Thus, a physician, Billings,
laid the foundation for the development of digital computing in the United States.
The earliest digital data computers were mechanical calculators Pascal invented in
France in the mid-1600s. In the 1830s Babbage, a British mathematician, built an
automated mechanical computing machine with gears and linkages that he called a
Difference Engine. Babbage then conceived a more advanced Analytical Engine
that would have become the first mechanical digital computer. During the 1840s,
Ada Byron, the Countess of Lovelace and daughter of Lord Byron, collaborated
with Babbage to develop programs for his Analytical Engine, which he never actu-
ally completed; she is credited by some as the first programmer of a digital com-
puter [264].
In 1940 Stibitz and his colleagues at Bell Laboratories developed a partially
automated digital computer that used electrically controlled, mechanical magnetic
switches as relay switches. The “on” and “off” positions of the relay switches rep-
resented the numbers 0 and 1 as the binary-bits in the base-2 system [47]. Stibitz
exploited the relative simplicity of using the binary system for a digital computer
since every number, letter, symbol, and punctuation could be represented by a
unique combination of bits. Previous calculators and computers had processed num-
bers using the base-10 decimal system, which required multiples of ten-gear teeth
to turn switches on and off in order to count. Later the American Standard Code for
Information Exchange (ASCII) assigned an eight-digit binary code to each letter, so
1 The Development of Digital Computers 5
that 01000001 was the letter A, 01000010 was letter B, 01000011 was letter C, and
so forth in the ASCII code.
In 1941 Zuse built the world’s first fully functional, program-controlled, general-
purpose, electro-mechanical digital computer in Germany. This machine used relay
switches and was based on the binary system; thus, when a switch was turned “on”
it represented the number “1”, and when turned “off” it represented “0”. Due to
World War II, Zuse’s invention received little recognition in the United States.
In 1943 the Mark I computer was designed by Aiken at the Harvard Computation
Laboratory. Built by the International Business Machine (IBM) Company as the
Automatic Sequence Controlled Calculator (ASCC), in 1944 it was installed at
Harvard University, where it was called Mark I. Run by an electric motor, it was a
program-controlled computer based on the decimal system; all machine operations
were performed electro-mechanically by its wheel counters and relay switches [6, 80].
With the advent of modern electronics, the flow of electric current replaced mechan-
ical moving parts of earlier computers, and vacuum tubes replaced electromechani-
cal switches. First generation computers were “hardwired”, and their circuits were
their programs. As computer processors advanced, new computer system architec-
tures were developed.
Colossus is generally credited to have been the first all-electronic digital com-
puter in the world. Guided by the mathematicians Turing, Newman, and their col-
leagues at the Bletchley Park Research Establishment in England [173], the Colossus
was installed and working in December 1944. Used by the British during World War
II to carry out the many logical steps needed to break German coded messages, it
showed that computers could be used for purposes other than just processing num-
bers [133]. Atanasoff’s computer is considered by some to be the very first, fully
electronic, digital computer built in the United States. Invented by Atanasoff, a
physicist at Iowa State University and operational in 1942, it was a single-purpose
computer that used the binary system [52, 173].
However, ENIAC (Electronic Numerical Integrator and Calculator) is more gen-
erally credited to be the first electronic digital computer built in the United States.
Invented in 1946 by Mauchly, Eckert, and their coworkers at the Moore School of
the University of Pennsylvania [221], ENIAC occupied a space 30 × 50 ft, weighed
30 tons, used 18,000 vacuum tubes for its active arithmetic and logic elements, and
was based on a decimal numeral system. Secretly built under contract with the
U.S. Army Ballistics Research Laboratory to calculate the trajectories for gunnery
in World War II, ENIAC was capable of solving a wide variety of problems in sci-
ence, engineering, and statistics. The computations were electronic, but the prob-
lems had to be entered manually by setting switches and plugging in cables [53].
EDVAC (Electronic Discrete Variable Automatic Computer) was also designed by
Mauchly and Eckert in 1944, even before the ENIAC was completed. Delivered in
6 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
1949, EDVAC was a binary-based computer that had 6,000 vacuum tubes and cov-
ered 490 ft2 of floor space. UNIVAC (Universal Automatic Computer) was devel-
oped in the late 1940s; it used von Neumann’s computer-stored program technology.
The first computer to process both numeric and alphabetic data, UNIVAC had 5,000
vacuum tubes and was still based on the decimal system.
SEAC (Standard Eastern Automatic Computer) was used by Ledley, a pioneer in
the use of digital computers for medical purposes in the United States, when in 1950
he conducted research in computer applications to dental projects at the National
Bureau of Standards. Since at that date the UNIVAC was not yet operational, Ledley
[157] claimed that SEAC was the world’s first high-speed electronic digital com-
puter in which the programs were stored digitally in the computer’s memory.
Demonstrated in 1951, the first real-time computer, the Whirlwind, was the source
of several significant technological innovations. In addition to having the first mag-
netic core, random-access memory, it was the first 16-bit computer and paved the
way for the development of the minicomputer in the mid-1960s [6].
When Eckert and Mauchly recognized the potential usefulness of computers in
science and industry, and obtained patents for their inventions, they left the
University of Pennsylvania and set up the first commercial computer company in
the United States, the Eckert and Mauchly Electronic Control Company of
Philadelphia. In 1950 Remington Rand, founded in 1911 to make typewriters and
tabulating equipment, took control of the Eckert and Mauchly Company; a year
later, in 1951, Remington Rand completed the first UNIVAC for the Census Bureau
to be used in analyzing the 1950 census data.
International Business Machines (IBM) Company, which in 1939 had financed
the construction of Aiken’s Mark I at the Harvard Computation Laboratory, initiated
work in 1945 on its first internally developed computer, the IBM 604. Marketed in
1948, the 604 was an electronic multiplier with 1,400 vacuum tubes and a plug
board for wiring simple instructions. In 1952 Watson Jr. became the president of
IBM; there he directed the manufacturing of the IBM 701 Defense Calculator. A
binary-based computer with 4,000 vacuum tubes that was faster than the UNIVAC,
the IBM 701 computer supported the U.S. Army’s needs during the Korean War
[30]. In 1950 IBM released its 704 scientific computer; with magnetic core memory,
a cathode-ray tube (CRT) display monitor, FORTRAN programming and some
graphics capability, it was among the earliest computers used for medical research
[217].
Transistor-based, second generation digital computers were introduced in the
late 1950s. Instead of using vacuum tubes these computers employed transistors,
invented in 1947 by Shockley, Bardeen, and Brattain at AT&T’s Bell Laboratories.
In their work, for which they won the 1956 Nobel prize for physics, the three scien-
tists had observed an electric signal was produced when two contacts were applied
to a crystal. Their initial point-contact transistor served as an electric switch with
four components: a source where the electric current entered, a drain where the cur-
rent left, a channel linking the two, and a device that acted as a gate to the channel.
By opening and closing the channel, the gate governed whether an electric current
could flow along a thin metal film of a semiconductor, and thus defined the on-or-off
1 The Development of Digital Computers 7
state that provided a computer’s binary function. In 1951 Shockley and his team
also developed a junction transistor which used the internal properties of semicon-
ductors rather than the surface effects on which point-contact devices depended.
Shockley “doped” a silicon semiconductor with impurities (such as arsenic or
boron) that created free electrons to produce a negative charge, or stole electrons
from the semiconductor’s lattice to create positively charged “holes”. When joined
together, the negatively charged electrons and the positively charged holes flowed
toward the junction where they joined and others took their place, creating a current
that flowed in one direction [105].
Computer transistor chips were invented in 1959 when Kilby at Texas Instruments
and Noyce at Fairchild Semiconductor were independently able to make the crystal
in a transistor serve as its own circuit board [38]. Kilby’s device required putting the
circuit components together by hand. Noyce’s group fabricated the components of
a circuit (the resistors, capacitors, transistors, and the interconnecting wireless con-
ductive pathways) all on one surface of a flat wafer of silicon. They thereby created
the first miniature integrated circuit on a chip [200]. Transistor-based computers are
wired much the same way as vacuum tube-based computers; but they are much
smaller, require less power, and are more reliable. In 1959 IBM began marketing its
first transistorized computer, the IBM 7090, which contained 32,768 words of
memory, with each word being 36-bits in length instead of the prior 16-bit word
length; it employed magnetic tape for secondary storage [34]. By the end of the
1950s, IBM had three-fourths of the computer market in the United States [50].
Friedel [105] noted that within a decade transistors were used in hundreds of
devices, including telephones, radios, hearing aids, pocket calculators, and digital
computers. In 1961 Fairchild and Texas Instruments introduced logic chips that, in
addition to the arithmetic AND function, performed the Boolean operations OR and
NOR (not OR). By stringing logic chips as gates together in different ways, the
engineers could endow computers with the power to support decision making pro-
cesses [6]. The invention of the computer chip with its integrated circuits produced
dramatic changes in computers, and was probably the most important event that
ushered in the information age.
Third generation computers appeared in 1963 in the form of solid state integrated
circuits that consisted of hundreds of transistors, diodes, and resistors embedded on
one or more tiny silicon chips, in a process called large scale integration (LSI) [32].
Once again computers became smaller and more reliable, and required less power.
The manufacture of computer circuits became more like a printing process and less
like a traditional assembly process, since the chip makers worked like photoengrav-
ers with masks and light-sensitive chemicals etching the silicon layers [83]. In 1964
IBM introduced its system/360 series of computers, a family of the earliest third
generation computers all using the same operating system (OS/360) that allowed
data processing operations to expand from the smallest machine in the series to the
largest without the need to rewrite essential programs. The IBM series/360 com-
puter with its Systems Network Architecture (SNA) led the industry into modern
commercial computing, and was the basis for IBM’s spectacular growth [271].
8 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
In the early 1970s, IBM replaced its 360 series with the system/370 series that used
only integrated circuit chips.
Fourth generation computers appeared in the late 1960s and exploited very large
scale integration (VLSI) that contained thousands of components on very tiny sili-
con chips, greatly increasing performance with less cost. By the early 1980s, a sili-
con flake a quarter-inch on a side could hold a million electronic components, ten
times more than in the 30 ton ENIAC and 30,000 times as cheap. Drawing the
electric power of a bedroom nightlight instead of that of a hundred lighthouses, in
some versions it could perform 200 times as many calculations per second as the
ENIAC [38].
The history of the development of some of the earliest generations of electronic
computers was described by Tropp [266] and Bernstein [22, 23].
In the 1960s, when general purpose, higher level computers had evolved to perform
a broad range of tasks, smaller special purpose minicomputers were developed to
perform restricted sets of tasks with greater speed, economy, and convenience [79].
In 1962 the Laboratory Instrumentation Computer (LINC) was demonstrated by
Clark and Molnar at the Lincoln Laboratory at the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology (MIT), as a small, special-purpose computer that increased the indi-
vidual researcher’s control over the computer [65]. Waxman, then the executive
secretary of the Computer Science Advisory Committee of the National Institutes of
Health (NIH), arranged for a grant to construct, evaluate, and distribute 12 LINCs
in 1963 to various computing research laboratories in the United States. Additional
development of the LINC occurred at the University of Wisconsin by Rose, and at
the University of Washington in St. Louis by Clark, Molnar, and Cox [186]. The
Digital Equipment Company (DEC), founded in 1957 by Olsen, who had worked
with Molnar and Clark at MIT, took over commercial production of the LINC
machines [131]. The LINC was the first of a number of smaller, low-cost minicom-
puters to appear in the 1960s. Bell designed the first DEC Programmed Data
Processor (PDP)-8; released in 1965, it helped popularize the term minicomputer
[223]. In 1978 DEC introduced its VAX series of minicomputers; with more flexible
and modular architecture, it was faster than the PDPs. In 1966 Hewlett-Packard
introduced its Model 2116A minicomputer, more powerful than the LINC; by 1970
Hewlett-Packard was second only to DEC in the minicomputer market.
Minicomputers were soon used for many medical applications because they outper-
formed the more expensive mainframe computers for specific input/output process-
ing tasks, and demands at that time for processing large numerical calculations in
clinical medicine were infrequent [127].
In 1970 Hyatt filed a patent application for a prototype microprocessor that used
integrated circuits [159]. In 1971 Blankenbaker assembled what was considered by
a panel of judges to be the first personal computer; 40 of his $750 Kenbak machines
1 The Development of Digital Computers 9
were sold [50]. The ALTO computer was developed in the early 1970s by Kay and
associates at the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center (PARC) as a prototype personal
computer with a graphical user interface (GUI) and an interactive programming
language called Smalltalk. The ALTO had an operating system developed for its
graphically oriented computer, and it used icons as symbols to represent files, docu-
ments, and programs. It also used a pointing device in the general form of a mouse
for selecting programs, documents, and complex commands from menus of choices
that could be shown by a cathode ray tube (CRT) display as a window into a much
larger document or a database. PARC is also credited with inventing the laser printer
in 1971 [81].
During the 1960s the central processing unit (CPU) could interpret and execute
instructions stored directly in primary memory, in read only memory (ROM), and in
random access memory (RAM). Later generation central processing units used
complex instruction set computing (CISC). Such machines made extensive use of
micro-programming, building instructions out of a series of micro-instructions
stored in the ROM within the CPU [218]. CISC instructions usually required mul-
tiple clock cycles for machine execution, introducing potential inefficiencies. An
alternative to CISC computing, known as reduced instruction set computing (RISC),
was developed in the early 1980s by IBM and subsequently by others. RISC omitted
the complex hardwired micro-programs of CISC, leaving only an efficient and
essential set of instructions hardwired in the CPU. The RISC design required spe-
cial language compilers that translated higher level languages into machine lan-
guage code, and restructured the programs to run more efficiently. Although RISC
processors used simpler instructions in place of fewer complex instructions, they
usually provided improved performance through an increased processing speed
[220].
The Intel company was formed in 1968 when Noyce left Fairchild Semiconductors
to start an integrated circuit design and manufacturing company to develop a series
of microprocessor chips. The power of a microprocessor is greatly influenced by the
number of transistors it contains on a chip, by whether the transistors are connected
to function in series or in parallel, by the scale of their integration, by the word size
that governs the width of the computer’s data path, and by the frequency of the
electronic clock that synchronizes the computer’s operations [265]. The central pro-
cessing unit (CPU) of an electronic digital computer had previously been formed by
combining a large number of individual components, while the CPU of a microcom-
puter consisted of one or more large scale integrated circuits on silicon chips. In
1969 J.M. Hoff Jr. fabricated at Intel the first CPU on a single chip; Intel then initi-
ated a series of microprocessor chips that revolutionized the personal computer
industry. The earliest chips functioning as central processing units had a small num-
ber of cores of transistors, with each core performing a task in series in assembly-
line style; these were used for running operating systems, browsers, and operations
requiring making numerous decisions. In 1970 Faggin designed Intel’s first micro-
processor, the Intel 4004, for use in calculators [185]. In 1973 Intel’s 8080 micro-
processor was introduced; it required only five additional circuit devices to configure
a minimum system. The Intel 8748 was considered to be a microcomputer since it
10 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
incorporated some read only memory (ROM) with its 8-bit microprocessor chips
[261]. Further development in the 1970s led to large scale integration with tens of
thousands of transistors on each chip. In 1975 Intel’s 8080 microprocessor was the
basis for the Altair 8800 that became the first commercial personal computer. The
Intel 2008, an 8-bit microprocessor, required 50–60 additional integrated circuits to
configure it into a minimum system; at that date it sold for $120. Introduced in
1980, the Intel 8088 chip contained 2,300 transistors and performed 60,000 opera-
tions per second (KOPS), or 0.06 million instructions per second (MIPS). In 1986
Intel’s 80386 contained 750,000 transistors. In 1989 Intel’s 80486 was a 32-bit pro-
cessor that contained 1.2 million transistors; in 1992 its Pentium chip contained 3.1
million transistors; in 2002 its Pentium-4 had 55 million transistors. In 2006 Intel’s
dual-core chip contained 291 million transistors; in 2009 Intel released its chip con-
taining nearly two billion transistors. In 2010 Intel released its Core i5 quad-core
processors, and planned to add integrated graphics in a chip that contained 2.9 bil-
lion transistors in an area as small as a fingernail [105].
Johnson [142] reported that Intel was going beyond its traditional method of
cramming more transistors onto a flat piece of silicon, in favor of building smaller
chips in a three-dimensional array that put transistors closer together and enabled
Intel to put 2.9 billion transistors on a chip about the size of a dime. Over this period
of time the data path of commonly available microprocessors increased from 8 bits
to 16 bits to 32 bits and then to 64 bits; the clock frequency increased from 8 to
66 MHz and higher. In 2011 Intel began to provide chips for Google’s Android
smartphones; and in 2012 Intel introduced a prototype smartphone that contained a
tiny Intel microprocessor called Medfield [161]. Intel also introduced semiconduc-
tor random access memory (RAM) chips that soon replaced magnetic core memory
for primary computer memory. Memory chips contained transistors in intersecting
rows and columns, from which the bytes could be retrieved individually. This per-
mitted the construction of a hierarchy of computers of different sizes. Memory
chips also increased in their storage capacity and in their performance, in parallel
with the development of increasingly powerful central processor chips.
Apple Computer Company was founded in 1976 by Jobs and Wozniak. Jobs was
the designer and marketer of the Apple I machine in that year and the Apple II
machine in 1977; Wozniak was the engineer who used the Motorola 6502 chip that
had appeared on the market. The Apple Macintosh, introduced in 1984, was an
innovative, compact, relatively portable, vertically designed computer with a built-
in high resolution monitor; with floppy disk drives, a Motorola 68000 CPU chip,
and 128-K bytes of RAM. The Macintosh had its own smalltalk-like operating sys-
tem and provided some of the special features developed at the Xerox Palo Alto
Research Center (PARC), including a mouse-like pointing device that allowed any
displayed item to be selected; the ability to display symbols and icons representing
files and documents; a bit-mapped graphical user interface; and support for applica-
tions with multiple windows of displays within displays. The Apple Macintosh
computer became very popular within the educational profession because of its
easy-to-learn, straightforward user interface; an estimated 120 million units were
sold. In 1998 Apple launched the iMac; in 1999 it launched the iBook and entered
1 The Development of Digital Computers 11
the notebook market; in 2001 it launched the iPod and entered the mobile device
business. In 2007 Apple launched the iPhone; an estimated 128 million were sold,
and Apple was credited with transforming the mobile phone industry. In 2010 it
launched its computer tablet, the Apple iPad; an estimated 28.7 million units were
sold that year [54, 81, 183].
IBM’s 5150 Personal Computer (IBM PC) was introduced in 1981. It used the
Microsoft DOS operating system, the Intel 8088 chip, 16-K bytes of RAM, floppy
disk drives, a variety of display monitors, and a detachable keyboard [295]. IBM’s
decision not to keep technical information about the PC confidential led to the
appearance of many clones, not manufactured by IBM but having similar design
and components, and performing identical functions. The IBM PC was rated in
1988 as the most successful personal computer design of the time [77].
Parallel processing multiprocessors were introduced in 1965 when Cray of the
Control Data Corporation (CDC) designed the CDC 6600 machine with six com-
puter processors working in parallel. The CDC 6600 in its time was the most power-
ful machine built [223]. In the late 1970s CDC built the Cyber 205, and Cray
Research built the Cray-1; both had the ability to carry out many similar operations
in parallel or concurrently on different aspects of a problem [160]. In the late 1990s
parallel processing units were developed when multi-core processor chips became
available. As the number of cores per chip increased, then transactional memory
techniques evolved that allowed programmers to mark code segments as transac-
tions; and a transactional memory system then automatically managed the required
synchronization issues. Whereas a traditional CPU processed data sequentially, a
parallel processing unit with multiple cores could divide large amounts of similar
data into hundreds or thousands of smaller data collections that were then processed
simultaneously.
Fung [109] defined computer graphics as image synthesis that takes a mathemat-
ical description of a scene and produces a two-dimensional array of numbers which
serves as an image; this he differentiated from computer vision that is a form of
image analysis that takes a two-dimensional image and converts it into a mathemati-
cal description. Graphics processing units, specialized microprocessors designed to
rapidly process very large amounts of data, were increasingly used for high-
definition video and for three-dimensional graphics for games. In 1999 Nvidia, a
California-based company, marketed a single chip processor called GeForce 256
that functioned as a graphics processing unit (GPU), with numerous cores that
simultaneously processed data in parallel and was capable of processing ten million
polygons per second. In 2010 Nvidia had a product line called TESLA, with a soft-
ware framework for parallel processing called CUDA; and marketed its NV35 GPU
with a transistor count of about 135-million that could process very large calcula-
tions in 2 min that had previously taken up to 2 h. Parallel computing is more power-
efficient than a processor chip built with several cores that compute one instruction
at a time. Advanced Micro Devices (AMD), incorporated in 1969 in California,
advanced as a producer of computer graphics chips when in 1985 it incorporated its
ATI subsidiary that developed graphics controllers and graphics boards products. In
1991 AMD introduced its microprocessor family; in 1996 AMD acquired NextGen,
12 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
a microprocessor company. In 2000 AMD was the first to break the 1-GHz – one
billion clock cycles per second – with the AMD Athlon processor. In 2004 AMD
demonstrated the world’s first x86 dual-core processor. In 2009 it introduced its six-
core AMD Opteron processor with a server platform that enabled advanced perfor-
mance of the unified processor and chipset technology. In 2010 the AMD Opteron
6100 processor, a core package of two integrated circuits, contained a total of more
than 1.8 billion transistors. In 2010 a GPU could have about three billion transistors,
as compared to about one billion for a CPU.
Further advances continued in the development of multi-core transactional-
memory chips for creating general-purpose, high-speed, parallel-processing com-
puters. Combining Nvidia’s graphics chips with Intel or AMD processor chips in a
computer produced faster and more efficient data processing. By the end of 2010,
Intel and AMD were the dominant manufacturers of 3.4 GHz computer processors,
with Intel’s high-end Core i7, and AMD’s high-end Phenom II. The hybrid combi-
nations of central processing units and embedded graphics processing units were
called integrated graphics processors, high-performance units, or personal desktop
supercomputers; they were expected to greatly increase computational efficiency
and at a much lower cost [265].
Stanford Transactional Applications for Multi-Processing (STAMP) was devel-
oped by Minh [184] and associates at Stanford University to evaluate parallel pro-
cessing with transactional memory systems by measuring the transaction length, the
sizes of the read-and-write sets, the amount of time spent in transactions, and the
number of re-tries per transaction. With increasing computer memory and data stor-
age capabilities, databases rapidly evolved to store collections of data that were
indexed to permit adding, querying, and retrieving from multiple, large, selected
data sets.
The software most closely associated with a particular computer, usually provided
by the computer manufacturer, the computer operating system controls the move-
ments of all programs and data through the computer. It manages the execution of
various applications programs; stores programs and data; allocates shared time to
multiple concurrent users; operates the computer’s peripheral input-output devices
such as keyboards, disk drives, and printers; and manages data moving from storage
to telecommunications lines and peripheral devices. The operating system often
provides utility programs for disk maintenance, and diagnostic programs to deter-
mine causes of hardware and software malfunctions. Many operating systems are
named with the acronym DOS, representing it as a disk operating system, as for
example, Microsoft’s MS-DOS.
In the 1940s the first computer operating systems were created for the early elec-
tronic digital computers; and they were sets of simple routines for data input and
output, such as a program consisting of machine instructions for storing binary
1 The Development of Digital Computers 13
codes from a punched paper tape into successive memory locations; the entire oper-
ating system could consist of a few hundred machine instructions. In the 1950s
operating systems for mainframe computers became larger and more complex; they
ran in a batch mode, executing in rapid succession the programs submitted by many
individual users. Because of the limited memory in many computers, functions of
the operating system were divided so that input and output services needed by all
programs were put into a kernel (or core set) that remained in the primary memory,
while system utilities were retained in disk storage and read into main memory only
when needed [86]. With the introduction of low-cost microcomputers, operating
systems, like Kildall’s Control Program for Microcomputers (CPM), were devel-
oped to work with many different computers [201, 213].
Time-sharing operating systems were conceived in the late 1950s by a group at
MIT that developed Project MAC to support the new concept of time-sharing. Time-
sharing operating systems could switch rapidly among several user programs,
thereby giving the impression that the programs were being executed simultane-
ously [8]. Sponsored by the Department of Defense (DoD) Advanced Research
Projects Agency (DARPA), the System Development Corporation (SDC) in Santa
Monica developed an early time-sharing computer system that could accommodate
53 users simultaneously [190]. In the 1960s time-sharing systems were used on a
number of commercial machines; higher-level operating-systems were developed
for specific computers or for classes of computers. In the early 1960s the Burroughs
Company used ALGOL for its operating system’s programming language. In the
late 1960s the MUMPS operating system was a special-purpose software package
developed to support MUMPS language applications.
The UNIX operating system was developed in 1969 by Thompson, Ritchie, and
Mcllroy at AT&T Bell Laboratories. UNIX was attractive because it supported a
number of powerful system utility programs that could be linked together in arbi-
trary useful sequences. It was a powerful time-sharing operating system that was
multi-user (it could serve more than one user at a time), multi-tasking (it could run
several applications at the same time), and had an open-architecture (it could be
used by computers from different vendors). The Bell Laboratories C- language
served as the basis for the UNIX operating system. UNIX became popular in the
university setting because antitrust laws initially allowed AT&T to license the prod-
uct for a nominal low fee [205]. By 1983 about 80 % of colleges that granted com-
puter science degrees had adopted UNIX, and several versions of UNIX had evolved
[131, 171]. In 1984, after AT&T’s breakup, it was allowed by the courts to enter the
computer business and sell the UNIX operating system. Able to run on a large num-
ber of different computers, singly or in a network, including IBM compatibles and
Apple Macintoshes, UNIX became a major competitor for the powerful operating
systems needed for networks of desktop computers, workstations, and mainframe
computers. In early 1987 SUN Microsystems joined with AT&T to create a new
version of UNIX with a graphical-user interface that used Internet protocols.
Control Program for Microcomputers (CP/M) was developed in 1974 by Kildall,
the founder of Digital Research. The first operating system developed for 8-bit
microprocessors, such as for the 8080-based computers, and subsequently for the
14 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
Computer software includes the computer programs and related data that instruct
the computer what to do and how to do it. Software includes computer operating
systems, programming languages, computer applications, sets of programs and
1 The Development of Digital Computers 15
Von Neumann was able to show that instructions for the computer could be
stored in the computer’s electronic memory and treated in the same manner as data
by using an electrically alterable memory capable of storing both the program
instructions and the data to be used in calculations. Previously, once a computer,
such as the ENIAC, performed a specific sequence of calculations, its circuits had
to be rewired for any other sequence [44]. Von Neumann’s revolutionary design led
to the ability to manipulate machine commands by arithmetic operations rather than
by rewiring circuit boards. von Neumann demonstrated a programming language
that stored instructions for the computer in the computer’s electronic memory as
numbers that could be treated in exactly the same manner as numerical data. For the
first time logical choices could be made inside the machine and instructions could
be modified by the computer [90]. Modern computer programming is usually con-
sidered to have begun at that time.
Composed of a set of statements based on a vocabulary of symbols, program-
ming languages are either declarative (instructing the machine by listing the tasks to
be completed) or procedural (instructing the machine about how to perform the
tasks by listing the discrete steps to be taken). Different levels of programming lan-
guages evolved as each generation of computers required changes in programming.
In the late 1950s, programming languages simulated as closely as possible the natu-
ral language that people use, employing English in the United States and using
well-known English symbols as much as possible [84, 216]. Newer, more powerful
programming languages abstracted sequences of machine-level instructions into
conceptually useful operations that could be invoked with a single mnemonic
command.
Algorithms commonly used in computer programming as a method for provid-
ing a solution to a particular problem or to a specific set of problems consist of a set
of precisely stated procedures that can be applied in the same way to all instances of
a problem. For complex problems, such as data mining, algorithms are indispens-
able because only procedures that can be stated in the explicit and unambiguous
form of an algorithm can be presented to a computer [164].
puter. An alternative approach used an interpreter that scanned and parsed each line
of the program-source code, and then interpreted and changed it into machine-
language code each time it was used. Because they could be tested and changed as
they were entered line by line, interpreted programs were easier to write and change.
For an interpreted program to be executed, however, the interpreter had to be present
in main memory, rendering it a potential source of heavy processing overhead. In
contrast, once a program had been compiled, the compiler was no longer needed,
resulting in faster overall performance.
With the development of higher level languages, where one English statement
could give rise to many machine instructions, programs tended to be shorter and
quicker to write, less prone to error, and able to run on different computers [84].
LISP (LISt Processing) language was developed in the late 1950s by McCarthy at
the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) as a research tool to study artificial
intelligence [3]. LISP is a high-level, interpreted language that uses lists as its only
data structure for both programs and data. A list is any group or sequence of ele-
ments, called atoms, structured in a particular order and enclosed within parenthe-
ses [176]. LISP can manipulate any list of numbers, words, diseases, symptoms,
symbols, deductions, and LISP statements; lists can be contained within lists. LISP
was widely used by researchers in artificial intelligence because human thought
involved more symbol manipulation than numerical calculations [152]. Several
early medical expert-system programs, including MYCIN and INTERNIST-I, were
originally written in LISP.
FORTRAN (FORmula TRANslator), an influential early high level program-
ming language, was developed by Backus and associates at IBM in 1957 [259].
FORTRAN provided a compiler to replace the tedious coding of assembly lan-
guage. FORTRAN continued to be widely used through the 1970s and 1980s, pri-
marily because of its special capabilities for numerical calculations, and because
many useful subroutines were developed over the years in FORTRAN. The stan-
dardization of FORTRAN facilitated the transfer of software among machines of
different vendors and made FORTRAN extremely popular [33]. It soon became the
standard language for scientific and engineering applications; by 1987 it was esti-
mated that as much as one-fourth of the world’s available machine cycles ran with
code generated by some form of FORTRAN [84].
COBOL (COmmon Business-Oriented Language) is considered by some to have
been invented by Hopper when she worked on the Mark I and UNIVAC computers
in the 1950s [101]. COBOL was introduced in 1960 by a joint committee of com-
puter manufacturers, computer business users, and government and academic repre-
sentatives interested in developing a high-level programming language for business
data processing that would use ordinary English statements and be usable by any
computer. Because of the pervasiveness of business functions, COBOL became the
most widely used programming language of the 1970s and 1980s [123]. Like
FORTRAN, COBOL used a compiler and was not an interactive language. From the
1960s through the 1980s COBOL was used almost universally for the business and
accounting functions in hospitals.
18 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
(MGH). MUMPS was created to implement the MGH modular hospital information
system. The goal of the MUMPS system was to combine a simple yet powerful
high-level language with an easy-to-use database management system [11]. The
first publication describing MUMPS was by Greenes [118] and associates, who
reported that MUMPS allowed a programming session to take the form of a conver-
sational dialogue between the programmer and the computer terminal, thus mini-
mizing the user’s time in programming. Barnett [13, 14] described the important
characteristics of MUMPS to be: (1) the language is interpretive, thus facilitating
rapid development of new applications; (2) the language has powerful string-
manipulating commands, facilitating the data management of the non-numerical
data which make up the largest part of medical information; (3) the file structure is
a sparsely-filled, tree-structured array where space is allocated only as needed
allowing efficient use of disk storage space; (4) the method of storing data in this
hierarchical storage array allows relative independence of access by the different
modules (and thus relative independence of the development of modules) and yet
easy exchange of data (thus facilitating the development of an integrated electronic
medical record); and (5) a relatively large number of users can be supported
simultaneously.
MUMPS became one of the most commonly used programming languages in the
United States for medical applications. It was used to program COSTAR, a success-
ful outpatient record system developed during the late 1960s and early 1970s, and
became commercially available in 1969 when Pappalardo and Marble formed
Medical Information Technology (Meditech). Because early versions of MUMPS
were very popular and MUMPS was an interpretive language, the comparative mer-
its of compilers and interpreters were often considered by early medical application
developers [27, 42, 118]. Lewkowicz [165] noted that most MUMPS implementa-
tions used a version of compiled code that offered the advantages of an interpreted
language without the associated overhead required in interpreting each line of code
before execution. Accepted as a standard language in 1977 by the American
National Standards Institute (ANSI), MUMPS joined COBOL, FORTRAN, and
PL/1 as ANSI Standard Languages. In 1983 MUMPS had more than 4,500 installa-
tions around the world, and also by 500 or more users of microcomputers [273,
274]. By the end of the 1980s both the Department of Defense (DoD) and the
Veterans Administration (VA) were installing nationwide MUMPS-based medical
scientific and manufacturing applications, because of its advantages of being com-
pact, fast, structured, extensible, and highly portable [138] In the 2000s the large
medical multi-facility information systems at VA, DoD, and the Epic company’s
EpicCare were all MUMPS-based. Reviews of the early history and uses of MUMPS
were published by Walters et al. [275] and by Blum and Orthner [31].
The C language was developed in the mid-1970s by Ritchie and Thompson at
Bell Laboratories as a structured programming language that used block structures
of statements similar to ALGOL and PASCAL; it produced efficient code that lent
itself to systems programming. Used to program the UNIX operating system [149],
the C language became popular because source code written in C would run on most
computers and was used to implement object-oriented programming [170, 253].
20 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
The C++ language was invented by Stroustrup at AT&T Bell Laboratories in the
1980s as an extended version of the standard C language to further support object-
oriented programming [252]. PERL was developed in 1987 with some of the fea-
tures of C language; it was widely used for building Web-based applications, for
interfacing and accessing database modules, for generating SQL queries, and for
text processing [63].
GEMISCH (GEneralized Medical Information System for Community Health)
was developed in 1969 by Hammond, Stead, and Straube at Duke University using
a DEC minicomputer. An interactive, high-level, multi-user database management
language, GEMISCH supported a variety of files and provided an extensive text
string-manipulation program, mathematical and Boolean logic capability, and
input- and output-control programs [126, 250]. Duke’s The Medical Record (TMR)
system was developed using GEMISCH programming language [248].
Smalltalk was a language developed in the early 1970s by Kay and associates at
the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center (PARC), as a programming language to con-
trol simulations on their Alto computer [148, 258]. Alto’s Smalltalk, with a built-in
operating system and automatic storage management, became the basis for many
features in the Apple Macintosh computer. It was an object-oriented language in
which everything was an object, and objects communicated by sending messages to
one another [3]. Each object was a collection of data and procedures which belonged
to, and was an instance of, a class. Written instructions specified how instances of a
class reacted when they received messages. Classes of objects could be moved from
super-classes and between classes, and would inherit the attributes and variables of
their instances. Smalltalk’s graphical user interface (GUI) allowed users to use a
mouse pointer to move displayed text and images [147] and provided a wide range
of graphic objects for which special purpose applications could be developed [137].
PROLOG (PROgramming in LOGic) was originally developed in Europe and
was made commercially available in the United States in 1984 [279]. Whereas ear-
lier programs told the computer what to do by a series of explicit steps, PROLOG
had pattern-matching capabilities and could be used to express logical relationships
in a database as defined by rules, such as: if “A” and “B” are true, then “C” must
also be true [237]. Used by researchers in artificial intelligence for advanced data-
base retrieval methods and for processing natural language, PROLOG was the ini-
tial programming language used by the Japanese for their fifth generation,
knowledge-based computer systems [100].
Structured Query Language (SQL) was developed in the early 1970s by
Chamberlin [56] and Boyce at IBM, as a language designed for the query, retrieval,
and management of data in a relational database management system, such as had
been introduced by Codd [68]. In the 1980s the relational database design became
dominant in industry; and versions of SQL were generally used to construct, man-
age, and query relational databases [269]. Ashton-Tate developed dBASE as a data-
base management system for microcomputers; dBase II was used by the Apple
computer and the IBM personal computer under Microsoft’s DOS, and dBase III by
UNIX. Java language was developed in the 1990s by Sun Microsystems as an
object-oriented, high-level programming language. Used for a variety of operating
1 The Development of Digital Computers 21
systems, including Apple Macintosh, Linux, Microsoft Windows, and Sun Solaris,
Java was acquired by Oracle when it bought Sun in 2010.
Markup languages began to evolve in the 1960s when Generalized Markup
Language (GML) was developed by IBM to enable the sharing of machine-readable,
large-project documents used in industry, law, and government. The term “markup”
was introduced when revisions were written on the program’s text document of
instructions. In 1986 Standard Generalized Markup Language (SGML) was devel-
oped as an International Standards Organization (ISO) version of GML, and was
used by industry and the Armed Services. In 1996 SGML began to be used for Web
applications; in 1998 it was modified as Extensible Markup Language (XML)
designed to provide a standard set of rules for encoding documents in machine-
readable form, and to help simplify and support the usability of Web services.
Hypertext Markup Language (HTML), with some features derived from SGML,
was developed in 1990 by Berners-Lee while at CERN. Used by Web browsers to
dynamically format text and images, HTML became the predominant markup lan-
guage for describing Web pages and became an international standard in 2000.
Third generation languages were generally called imperative languages or proce-
dural languages that required the use of imperatives (commands) in programming
with consideration of computer addresses and storage schemes, and told the com-
puter exactly how to take each step. Fourth generation languages were more directed
to functional, non-procedural programming that allowed the programmers to con-
centrate on the logical purpose of the programs, and that told the computer what to
do rather than how to do it. Specialized commercial applications programs were
developed. For example, the Hypertext Preprocessor (PHP), an open source lan-
guage for building Web applications, supports several databases and is used by
Google and Facebook.
Computer data storage devices are required for both the internal primary com-
puter memory storage and for the external secondary storage of digital data.
Secondary data storage in the early 1950s used magnetic tape drives for the writing
and reading and the external storage of data, since reels of tape were low-cost, espe-
cially for backup data storage. Later in the 1950s magnetic hard disc drives were
developed for storing digital data on rotating hard plastic discs with a magnetic
covering. The drives were equipped with magnetic heads positioned to both write
the data on, and read the data back from, the disc. The rotating disc had great advan-
tages in that the user had the random access disc to quickly retrieve data at different
locations on the disc, whereas the data on a tape could only be read sequentially.
With the development of personal computers there evolved a variety of floppy disks
made of a thin magnetic storage medium sealed in a rectangular plastic covering.
Initially 8 in. in diameter, floppy discs next became 5.25 in., and then most com-
monly 3.5 in.; floppy disk drives were developed for each size to write and to read
the data.
Optical secondary storage devices developed in the 1990s used a laser beam to
record light in a spiral track on the surface of a disc that was usually in the form of
a 4.7 or 5.25 in. compact disc (CD) as read only memory (CD-ROM). Optical disc
storage devices were developed to be used as write once-read only (CD-R), and also
for use as erasable-rewritable optical disc storage (CD-RW) [103, 228]. In the 1990s
optical storage discs that were rewritable and/or erasable rapidly became the storage
mode of choice. In the 2000s digital video drives (DVD) used red laser light and
Blu-ray discs used a violet/blue light to both read and write (DVD-RW). Solid-state
storage devices were used in the 2000s; with integrated circuits to store data and no
moving parts, they were very quiet, portable, could read and write very fast, and
used less power than hard discs. Universal Serial Bus (USB) flash drives (thumb
drives) were small, portable, solid-state digital data storage devices with capacities
of up to thousands of gigabytes. These consisted of a printed circuit board that car-
ried the circuit elements, and USB connector to plug into a computer.
Computer-stored databases were considered by Coltri [73] to be one of the most
important developments in software engineering, equivalent to the heart and the
brain of a modern information system. Defined by Wiederhold [281, 283, 285] as
collections of related data organized so that usable data could be extracted, data-
bases were described by Frawley et al. [104] as logically integrated collections of
data in one or more computer files, organized to facilitate the efficient storage,
change, query, and retrieval of contained relevant information to meet the needs of
its users. The functional and technical requirements for the development of efficient
computer-stored databases were essential specifications. Coltri [73] noted that,
although a single structural database model could initially allow for simpler coordi-
nation, operation, and reporting, designing a single database for successful querying
became increasingly difficult as the database grew larger, became more complex
with many functional relationships, and subsystem components required frequent
changes in their data content. Moreover, as databases grew larger they often devel-
oped problems caused by excess redundant data.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 23
bases. OLAP generally stored data in a relational structured design, and used aggre-
gations of data built from a fact-table according to specified dimensions. Relational
database structures were considered to be multi-dimensional when they contained
multiple attributes, such as time periods, locations, product codes, and other attri-
butes that could be defined in advance and aggregated in hierarchies. The combina-
tions of all possible aggregations in the database were expected to be able to provide
answers to every query that could be anticipated of the stored data [69]. Connolly
(1999) described a way of visualizing a multi-dimensional database by beginning
with a flat two-dimensional table of data; then adding another dimension to form a
three-dimensional cube of data called a “hypercube”; and then adding cubes of data
within cubes of data, with each side of each cube being called a “dimension”, result-
ing in a multi-dimensional database. Pendse [207] described in some detail the his-
tory of OLAP, and credited the publication in 1962 by Iverson of A Programming
Language (APL) as the first mathematically defined, multi-dimensional language
for processing multi-dimensional variables. Multi-dimensional analyses then
became the basis for several versions of OLAP developed in the 1970s and 1980s by
IBM and others; and in 1999 the Analyst module available in COGNOS was
acquired by IBM. In the 2000s new OLAP derivatives were in use by IBM,
Microsoft, Oracle, and others.
Object oriented databases were developed in the 1970s at the Xerox Palo Alto
Research Center (PARC), and used the programming language Smalltalk [219].
Whereas traditional database programs represented the data and the procedures for
manipulating the data separately, in an object oriented system the objects encapsu-
lated both of these. Object oriented databases were designed to attempt to bring
database programming and applications programming closer together, and treated
the database as a modular collection of component data-items called objects.
Members of an entity that belonged to types or classes of data with their own data
and programming codes, objects incorporated not only data but also descriptions of
their behavior and of their relationships to other objects. Using concepts such as
entities, attributes, and relationships, objects could be members of an entity that
belonged to types or classes with their own data and programming codes. Objects
had an independent existence and could represent persons, activities, or observa-
tions, and were sufficiently independent to be copied into other programs. Attributes
were properties that described aspects of objects; relationships described the asso-
ciation between objects. Objects were sufficiently modular and independent that
they could be copied easily into other programs. An object-oriented database could
serve a network of workstations in which one or more computers were designated
as object servers that would supply applications programs with objects as needed to
minimize workstation and server communications. By the late 1980s some database
applications were programmed in object oriented languages that treated the data-
base as a modular collection of component items called objects [85].
Connolly [76] described some relational variances for an object-oriented data-
base in order to use Structured Query Language (SQL). Barsalou and Wiederhold
[17] described their PENGUIN project that applied a three-layered architecture to
an object-oriented database that defined the object-based data as a layer of data on
26 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
applied to large, extended, central databases that collected and managed data from
several different databases; as warehouses, they were capable of servicing the ever-
increasing volume of patient data that were collected from the ever-changing and
expanding medical technologies. As data warehouses grew larger they often devel-
oped partitions and data marts for specialized sub-sets of the data warehouse in
order to better serve users with different functional needs [76]. When data ware-
houses were found to satisfy the needs of different users and to efficiently query
large collections of data, this led to the development of online analytical processing
(OLAP), and of translational data processing between multiple data warehouses.
Translational databases evolved in the late 1990s with more advanced designs of
database management systems to: (1) optimize the translation, transformation, link-
age, exchange, and integration of the increasingly voluminous collections of medi-
cal information that was becoming accessible from many large databases in multiple
institutions that were located worldwide, by using wide area networks, the Internet,
and the World Wide Web; (2) provide access to high-performance, super-computing
resources; (3) facilitate the concurrent query, analyses, and applications of large
amounts of data by multi-disciplinary teams; (4) encourage knowledge discovery
and data mining, and support the transfer of new evidence-based knowledge into
patient care; and (5) advance the use of biomedical computational methods. Since
most data warehouses had been developed with database management systems that
employed their own legacy and data-encoding standards, it usually required some
reorganization and modification of their source data to be compatible with the data
transferred from other different data warehouses before all could be merged into a
single database schema. Thus it became necessary to develop translational database
software.
Database managementsystems were designed to capture and process all of the
data stored in the computer system, and to implement all of the functional require-
ments of the database [10]. Walters [272] considered the main contribution of data-
base management science was to distinguish between what information should be
stored in a system from how it should be stored. Wiederhold [283] defined a data-
base management system as the hardware and software that controlled, stored, pro-
cessed, and retrieved the data in the database. As defined by Blum [28, 29, 32], a
database management system was software consisting of a collection of procedures
and programs with the requirements for: (1) entering, storing, retrieving, organiz-
ing, updating, and manipulating all of the data within its database; (2) managing the
utilization and maintenance of the database; (3) including a metadatabase to define
application-specific views of the database; (4) entering data only once, even though
the same data might be stored in other subsystems; (5) retrieving, transferring, and
communicating needed data in a usable format, and having the ability to create
inverted files indexed by key terms; (6) maintaining the integrity, security, and the
required level of confidentiality of the data; and (7) fulfilling all management, legal,
accounting, and economic requirements. Database management systems soon
replaced the earlier file-based systems that often stored the same data in multiple
files where it could be more difficult to retrieve and coordinate the data. Distributed
database management systems involved the management of physically dispersed
28 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
data in two or more databases located in different computers and used some means
of communications for the distribution and exchange of the data. In large organiza-
tions, distributed database management systems were designed either as clusters of
computers tightly coupled to a central large mainframe computer, or as loosely
coupled in a distributed database system [172].
Cloud computing involves computing over a network, where a program or an
application may run on many connected computers at the same time. It specifically
refers to a remote group of computers commonly referred to as server, connected
through a communication network such as the Internet, a local area network (LAN),
or a wide area network (WAN). Any individual user who has permission to access
the server can use its processing power to perform any computing task. Instead of
needing a personal computer, the user can run an application or store data from
anywhere in the world using the processing power provided by the server, which is
connected to a network via the Internet or other connection. In common usage the
term “cloud” is essentially a metaphor for the Internet; computer vendors have pop-
ularized the phrase “in the cloud” to refer to software sold remotely as a service
through the Internet. Typically, the seller has actual energy-consuming servers
which host products and services from a remote location, so end-users can simply
log on to the network without installing anything. The major models of cloud com-
puting services are generally known as “software services”.
Data acquisition, input, retrieval, and data output are all important functions of a
computer-based information system; and the various devices and computer termi-
nals used to carry out these functions changed greatly with innovations in technol-
ogy over recent decades. Typewriter keyboards for computer input accepted any
combination of words and numbers, but required typing skills to be used efficiently;
therefore most physicians did not find them acceptable for data entry. Typewriters
were used by some as early computer data-output printers; at first they were
restricted to printing only uppercase (capital) letters, but soon lengthy printouts
were batch processed on higher-speed printers [168]. Tele-typewriters were among
the earliest interactive computer devices that permitted a direct dialogue with users.
However, since they could only accept typed alphanumeric input and could print
only one character after another, they were soon replaced as data-input devices by
visual display monitors equipped with typewriter-like keyboards. The earliest mode
of directly entering data into a computer, punched paper cards were invented by
Hollerith in 1882 [6, 276]. Hollerith’s machine punched a hole into a paper card (the
size of a dollar bill) in a specific location that corresponded to a unique digital code
for each alphabet letter, each number, and each punctuation mark and selected sym-
bol. Card readers sensed the holes in the punched cards using wires that brushed
1 The Development of Digital Computers 29
over the cards, making electrical connections through the holes to the metal plate
under which the cards were passed [71].
Mark-sense paper cards were used by Schenthal [226, 227] to enter clinical data;
these involved using a graphite pencil to make a mark on the card that was electri-
cally sensed as a data input to the computer. Schenthal also used portable punch
cards. Prescored portable punch cards could go directly from the user to a card-
reader machine without intermediary keypunching. The card was placed in a card
holder, and the holes for the appropriate items were punched in with a stylus. These
cards were used by some for ordering laboratory tests and recording vital signs [7].
Premarked prepunched paper cards with specific data items for computer input were
used to requisition clinical laboratory tests and to enter patients’ responses in a
questionnaire form [72]. Punched paper tape soon followed the use of punched
cards. However both punched paper cards and paper tape became unnecessary for
data input when keyboard devices, structured like a typewriter but with additional
special-function keys, were directly connected to computers. Pressing a function
key closed an electric circuit and sent a corresponding specific digital code to the
computer.
Optically sensed marks on paper cards, forms, and pages with encoded data,
readable by optical readers directly into the computer, appeared in the 1960s.
Optically scanned cards were used to enter results from an ophthalmologic exami-
nation, including diagnoses and laboratory data [246]. At Baylor College of
Medicine, optically read cards were developed and tested that coupled laser-
imprinted cards to a computer for data input. Data in digital format were formed on
a card with a milliwatt laser beam that placed 5-μm dimples on the specially treated
surface of the card; a read-write device connected to a personal computer scanned
in the medical information and displayed it on a screen [48]. Optically read cards
were also developed by the Veterans Administration (VA) and tested with a spe-
cially designed workstation that provided the read-write, optical-card technology
needed to service patient-care data for its VA Decentralized Hospital Computer
Program [117].
In the late 1980s some medical information systems (MISs) began to pilot-test
optical scanning and storage technology for medical record processing. Optical
scanners converted paper records into bit-mapped images and stored these digitized
files on optical disks with a huge storage capacity. High-resolution monitors attached
to networked workstations permitted the viewing of the images of the paper records.
By the end of the 1980s the available technology had advanced to provide a multi-
media medical record. Using an Apple Macintosh microcomputer at Dartmouth-
Hitchcock Medical Center, Shultz and Brown [229] developed a prototype MIS that
processed and displayed text, images, animated sequences; allowed linkage to radi-
ology and pathology images; and permitted the hearing of digitized heart sounds.
The system drew information from multiple sources other than its own database,
such as from a linked laser video disk and from other conventional databases.
Friedman [106] foresaw as an important benefit of the computer-based patient
record, new analytic capabilities to enhance the quality and efficiency of medical
care by the creation of new databases that lent themselves to analyses. He called this
30 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
process “informating” [after Zuboff [304]] rather than automating the medical
record.
Matrix keyboards for structured data input became popular in the mid-1960s.
Computer terminals used in some clinical laboratories and hospital nursing stations
used matrix keyboards, such as the IBM 1092 terminal. Users entered data by push-
ing buttons located in rows; each button was identified by a preprogrammed format
and the formats were structured by printed overlays placed on the keyboard.
However, like other terminals that required a keyboard mode of entry, they were not
acceptable to physicians even though technicians could easily be trained in their
use.
Optical character readers (OCR), developed in the 1970s, could scan and input
alphanumeric characters printed in standard fonts of type. Although handwriting
was the most natural way for a physician to make notations in a patient’s record,
only hand-printed characters could be recognized by optical scanners. Optical char-
acter scanners contained light sensors that converted light into an electrical voltage
that could be sensed by an electronic circuit. OCR recognized the shape of the char-
acters by the contrast of light and dark areas created when light was reflected from
the surface of the document, and converted the characters to a bit-map of pixels
(picture-elements) representing the “on” (dark) areas or the “off” (light) areas. The
OCR software matched each character with a pixel-by-pixel comparison to charac-
ter templates stored in memory. As OCR technology advanced in the 1980s, it
shifted to scanning pages of text and images by transforming the light reflected from
the page into electrical voltages that were a function of the light intensity as, for
example, a gray scale representing a range of shades between black and white. A
bit-mapped graphic image of the page was sent to the computer where files of the
digital data were created. Handheld, optical line scanners soon became available
that could be used to guide the read-head along a line of text.
Barcode readers were developed in the 1980s as data entry devices to interpret
black stripes printed on white paper or on white objects. The barcodes were read by
passing a hand-held scanner over the stripes, or by passing the labeled items over a
barcode reader. A commonly used method for reading barcode symbols was by
assigning to each character (number, letter, or symbol) a unique combination of
black bars and intervening white spaces. Barcode readers illuminated the printed
code symbols with a bright light that was absorbed by the black bars and reflected
back from the white spaces to a photo-detector. The scanner transformed the pat-
terns of light and dark into patterns of electrical signals that were converted into
standard codes for the alphanumeric characters, and transmitted them to the com-
puter. Used in other industries for some time, optically read barcodes began to find
applications in patient care in the early 1980s when barcode readers began to be
used to identify patients’ laboratory specimen containers. By the late 1980s bar-
codes began to be used for to identify hospital patients by reading patients’ coded
wristbands and also to identify patients’ charts, blood-bank samples, laboratory test
samples, and x-ray folders by reading the stripes on their labels [111].
For clinical applications that allowed the use of barcode labels, a wand barcode
reader was connected to a computer or communicated to a computer via radio fre-
1 The Development of Digital Computers 31
quency transmissions. This was a much faster than manual typing, and more accu-
rate. In the 1980s handheld, microcomputer-based, programmable terminals
permitted data input by barcode reader keypads. In 1986 Monahan et al. [187] at the
University Hospitals of Cleveland reported the use of handheld barcode readers for
the automated entry of nurse identification, and of nursing diagnoses of patients’
problems selected from a list of 61 possible diagnoses. Childs [61] described how a
nurse with a handheld terminal with a barcode reader could read the patient’s iden-
tification number from the code stripes on the patient’s wrist band before giving a
medication in order to verify that the patient was due to receive that specific medica-
tion at that time. When the computer identified matching bar codes, it authorized
giving the medication and recorded the date and time. Hughes [136] described a
portable handheld terminal with an optical barcode reader, a display for selecting
menus and for presenting patient data, and a keypad for entering and requesting
information; communications between the portable terminal and its base unit were
by radio frequency transmission. With the implementation of electronic medical
records, Willard [287] described how their use of barcodes facilitated data entry and
decreased data-entry errors. In the 2000s digitized optical storage devices began to
make feasible more accurate and sophisticated identification methods, such as the
automated reading of fingerprints and facial photographs. Poon and associates [212]
at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston credited the use of barcodes for
decreasing error rates in the transcription of patient care orders and in the adminis-
tration of drugs.
In the mid-2000s, hospitals began to use radio frequency identification (RFID)
tags as an alternative to barcodes for identifying patients during medical proce-
dures, identifying x-rays and specimens, managing inventory, and locating equip-
ment and supplies. Each tag incorporated a very tiny microchip encoded with a
unique identification number. When the RFID reader and tag were within the
required proximity, the reader broadcast radio-frequency waves that were picked up
by a tiny antenna connected to the chip, activating the chip’s integrated circuit and
causing it to transmit its encoded data by radio waves back to the reader; on receiv-
ing the tag’s data, the reader communicated it to a computer database that reported
back the desired identification data [1, 135]. When used in a hospital to collect data
on staff workflow in an attempt to increase the efficiency and effectiveness of patient
care, RFID was sometimes considered by nursing staff to be a form of surveillance
and could create social-organizational unrest [102]. An RFID positioning system
was used in outpatient clinics to monitor patients and staff behavior; patients carried
transponders from check in to check out, and the staff wore transponders throughout
the study period [247].
Sponsored by RAND Europe, Van Orange and associates [268] published a com-
prehensive review of the opportunities for, and the barriers to, the use of RFID in
health care systems, including some cost-benefit analyses of its use in hospitals.
They reported that the most promising RFID applications were for identifying and
tracking patients, sensing for the monitoring of patients, and for the automatic col-
lection and transfer of data. They cautioned that radio waves from RFID embedded
devices could interact with other wireless hospital equipment and electronic devices
32 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
and cause some devices to fail when in close contact, thus necessitating careful
monitoring when used in intensive care units, emergency care units, clinical labora-
tories, and in other high-tech patient care areas.
Telephones were used as computer terminals as early as the 1960s. Allen [2]
described a medical telecommunications project established by the Division of
Computer Research at the National Institutes of Health (NIH). A standard 12-push-
button, touch-tone telephone with an acoustic coupler was used for the input of
numbers and letters. The user pressed combinations of numbers that were transmit-
ted to a remote, time-shared computer. Voice output in this project was from an
audio-response vocabulary of less than 200 words stored in the computer. A phar-
macy in the NIH Clinical Center used a program for providing information on intra-
venous drugs. A more advanced voice-response system was developed by Friedman
[108] and associates at the University of Wisconsin. Using a touch-tone input unit
to a minicomputer connected to a time-shared mainframe computer, it provided
audiotaped or synthetic voice-generating output. A standard touch-tone telephone
acted as the input terminal to a minicomputer and controlled the audiotape unit by
starting and stopping the tape at the beginning and end locations of the specific mes-
sage. The voice synthesizer generated intelligible speech by producing the pho-
nemes that served as the building blocks of words and phrases, and provided a
limited amount of continuous speech. The system was used for taking a patient’s
branching medical history, and for supporting a variety of treatment consultation
programs. Smith [245] and associates at Boston University Medical Center devel-
oped a telephone-linked computer system capable of communicating with patients
by using a voice synthesizer. The system regularly communicated with a group of
patients with hypertension who required repeated visits to the clinic to monitor their
treatment, reaching each patient using a set of preprogrammed, voice-synthesized
questions. The patient responded by pressing the appropriate keys on the keypad of
a standard touch-tone telephone, and the system provided a set of appropriate pre-
programmed responses for voice feedback to the patient. The system received and
decoded the patient’s keyed responses, recorded them in the patient’s file, and
printed out a report of the telephone interaction for the patient’s physician.
Speech recognition for the direct entry of natural language text is a very desirable
way for computer users to communicate by voice with a computer; but it required
developing technology to provide speech recognition for data input to the computer.
The use of medical transcriptionists was always popular with physicians, since dic-
tating their notes to a person permitted them to use a familiar mode of communica-
tion, and transferred the task of data entry to clerical personnel. Although the need
for free-text entry by automated speech-recognition systems was obvious, speech
recognition by computer was very difficult. The speech patterns of people in differ-
ent regions had nuances in sentence structure; voices varied between individuals;
and the waveforms of two persons who spoke the same words appeared uniquely
different on a display oscilloscope. Spoken words tended to run together, and vocab-
ulary was relatively unlimited. The 1980s saw the development of some limited
speech-recognition input modes for human-to-computer interfacing [286]. Systems
in the late 1980s digitized the analog-wave-forms of the voice signals and stored the
1 The Development of Digital Computers 33
stream of digital data. Using a library of stored voice patterns recorded by the user,
the system was “trained” to match the input speech-pattern to one in its library and
to associate it with its text equivalent. These early systems required the user to pause
between individual words or linked phrases. They were first employed by highly
specialized clinical users, such as radiologists who for some common procedures
often used a relatively limited and mostly predefined vocabulary with repetitive
descriptive phrases, such as for reporting negative chest x-rays. The first Kurzweil
voice-recognition systems could accept up to 1,000 individual words spoken directly
into the computer with a pause between each word; and if the user “trained” the
computer then it could accept a spoken phrase as if it were a single word. The
entered words were immediately displayed for verification and editing [256]. By the
end of the 1980s the Kurzweil system could recognize up to 10,000 words of a user
after a suitable training period, yet recognition of continuous speech was still not
reliable.
In the 1990s progress was made toward continuous speech recognition that used
more complex statistical methods of associations between words; these systems
were used by pathologists for whom the ability to perform hands-free data entry was
a major benefit [20]. In the 2000s some speech recognition devices, such as Nuances’
Dragon Naturally Speaking, could correctly recognize most commonly spoken
words. Lacson and Long [154] described the use of a mobile phone to enter spoken
dietary records into a computer, classified the words used for food items and food
classifiers, and developed algorithms that allowed users to automatically document
the spoken diet records for each patient in natural language text. Chase et al. [57]
found that, although it was feasible to capture clinical information in natural lan-
guage, the semantic complexity and the frequent use of acronyms and abbreviations
presented challenges to machine-based extraction of semantic content. Pogue [211]
noted that Nuance Communications had released each year a new version of Dragon
NaturallySpeaking, and the amount of “training” of the program by reading a stan-
dard script was decreasing. Nuance hoped with its Medical Practice Edition that
physicians could dictate directly into their patients’ electronic medical records
[182]. In the 2000s the transmission of visual and spoken English text became avail-
able on many smartphones. By the end of 2010 Apple’s iPhone provided a personal
voice assistant, called “Siri”, that could respond to English spoken questions on
social and commercial activities as did some Android smartphones using domain
knowledge from the internet.
Handwriting recognition devices began to be developed in the 1980s. A stylus
resembling a pen was used to write individual letters, numbers, and punctuation
symbols on mobile digitizing tablets called pen-pads. These usually had a wire grid
on the tablet as a receiving antenna and a coil of wire in the pen as the sending
antenna. The coil sent brief pulses of radio waves that were received by the grid,
thus functioning as radio direction finders to identify a precise location. An
alternative method used a resistor decoding technology that pulsed a voltage from
each of the four sides of the tablet, creating a voltage gradient across a thin metal
film that induced a voltage inside the pen, and thereby identified its location. The
individual characters were read by being compared to stored patterns that were dis-
34 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
played for editing and then stored in the computer. Reading continuous cursive
handwriting was much more difficult. However, by the end of the 1980s mobile
I-pads and pen-pads were being developed that could recognize inscribed individual
characters, marks, or checks; these were being tested for simple applications, such
as for charting the administration of medications.
Image input initially involved the entry only of any associated descriptive text,
but by the 2000s information derived directly from digital images began to be inte-
grated with its text. Shatkay et al. [236] described their method of extracting and
downloading figures from XML published format. The figures were segmented into
sub-figures that were classified by four image types (such as graphical, microscopy,
electrophoresis, and others) and were then further clustered into sub-groups by 46
features. A Bayes’ classifier was used to match images to a base training-group of
known classified images.
Data input by a microcomputer was increasingly used for databases that needed
an online interactive terminal with programs allowing data entry to a database man-
agement system. Blumenthal [36] described the software developed for a Radio
Shack microcomputer to format and enter data into a research database at the
University of Michigan, Ann Arbor.
Data output by computers in the 1940s used primarily punched paper cards and
Teletype printers. In the 1950s line printers and dot-matrix printers began to be con-
nected to computers. Every computer had a number of interfaces for printers, which
received their signals from the computer’s external bus. Each interface had a port
consisting of a buffer, where the data to be printed was stored while the data was
being printed. In 1961 the IBM Selectric typewriter became available. In the 1960s
ink-jet printers appeared that formed images of characters made by pushing tiny
drops of ink out of a nozzle on to the paper. In 1971 Centronics introduced the
impact dot-matrix printer that generated patterns of dots in the shape of alphabet
numbers and letters. A microprocessor stored the data transmitted from the com-
puter and directed the firing of an array of tiny pins contained in the print head; and
the pins pressed against the inked ribbon to imprint the characters on the paper; by
the mid-1980s dot-matrix printers dominated the market. Electrostatic printers had
been developed in the 1950s, and in 1973 Xerox produced its xerographic page
printer. In 1975 IBM introduced the first laser printer that employed a laser beam
controlled by a microprocessor to imprint microscopic dots, line-by-line, on one full
page of paper at a time. By the end of the 1970s laser printers had set the standards
for computer printers.
Clinical workstation was the term applied in the 1970s to powerful minicomputers
designed to take advantage of network file-sharing and multitasking capabilities. In
1985 Blois [25] anticipated a physician’s personal workstation that could exploit
graphics and windows capabilities and support the clinical decision-making
1 The Development of Digital Computers 35
base functions, shared data and software, and provided backup and security. In the
1990s workstation terminals were developed to more efficiently support entry and
retrieval of data, text, and images; these workstations had the abilities to communi-
cate within the database-management system. Cimino and associates [64] at
Columbia University in New York reported developing a prototype workstation.
Built using Internet client-server architecture, it was used by their surgical staff to
maintain patient lists, and to download and review their patients’ clinical data
including laboratory, radiology, and pharmacy; it also served a wide variety of other
purposes including sign-out routines.
Video display terminals were greatly advanced by the end of the 1960s with their
use in cathode ray tube (CRT) and television video display terminals which permit-
ted direct interactive dialogue between the computer and the user. Data entry using
display terminals involved three basic techniques: (1) Typewriter-type keyboard
entry in which letters and numbers were individually entered; (2) List or menu
selection in which preformatted phrases were entered by various input methods,
such as by touching the screen or selector buttons, by using a light pen or a mouse
or trackball; and (3) Function-key entry where multiple overlays determined the sets
of data entered [240]. Although menu selection of displayed items or the use of
overlays allowed using structured formats for data entry and minimized the need to
acquire typing skills, they constrained the ability to quickly enter a complex or
lengthy statement. Yet with such interactive display terminals, physicians and
nurses began to use computer-based information systems without clerical interme-
diaries. Usually a physician interacted with a display terminal by first entering an
identification code, and the display responded by showing the physician’s name, the
date and time of the interaction. Since most input transactions by the physician
involved a single patient at a time, the physician entered the patient’s name which
then would be displayed on the computer, along with the patient’s identification
number and perhaps the hospital bed to which the patient had been assigned. The
physician then might enter a diagnosis, a new examination finding, an order for
some service such as a laboratory test, or other data. This information would be
displayed back to the physician for verification and for correction of any errors.
When approved by the physician as being correct, it would be stored in the patient’s
computer-stored record; a copy could be printed out if the patient also had a paper-
based chart [242].
Graphic displays generated from the data in a patient’s record were an important
requirement for clinicians. Plotting graphically a set of variables, such as blood
chemistry test results as they changed over time, was a useful way to monitor a
patient’s progress during an illness. Blum [35], working with the Time Oriented
Database (TOD) developed at Stanford University, described the problems associ-
ated with the implementation of graphics on a display terminal without special
graphics capabilities: (1) The cursor could move only left to right, top to bottom;
thus graph positions had to be computed and stored before the graph was drawn; (2)
Clinical activity tended to occur in bursts, so values usually distributed non-
uniformly over a graph; and (3) Causal relationships typically involved more than
two variables, creating the unmet need to display several variables and episodes in
1 The Development of Digital Computers 37
a single image. Most computer-based patient record systems generated flow sheets,
displayed visually or printed out, as an efficient way of presenting large arrays of
patient data over long periods of time. The limitations of the displays then available
and the need for more flexible cursor control were not met until the 1980s, when
graphical displays of patient data became readily available with the advent of termi-
nals with graphical user interfaces.
Mouse selector devices, developed in the US and Germany in the 1960s were
first used with computer graphical interfaces in Xerox PARC in 1972–1973, allow-
ing the user to select and move data on a display not only up, down, and sideways,
but also diagonally, with a greater selection choice than a displayed menu could
provide. The mouse was held with one hand and rolled across a flat surface to direct
its pointer on the screen; buttons were pressed on the mouse to control its activity.
A microprocessor inside the mouse transmitted a packet of data when it detected a
change in the position of the mouse or in the state of its buttons. A trackball was the
equivalent of a stationary, turned-over mouse, and used the thumb, index, and mid-
dle fingers to manipulate the ball.
Display monitors developed in the 1970s permitted a user to enter data by directly
interacting with the displayed screen. Some touch-sensitive screens used an optical
system in which a user’s finger interrupted crossing beams of infrared light, and the
intersection of a vertical with a horizontal beam identified the location of the touch
point. Other touch screens used a capacitance-sensing mechanism; when a user
touched the screen, it changed the capacitance value of that particular area of the
screen, but the finger was a relatively coarse data-selector device. More acceptable
was the light pen that employed a light sensor in its tip that, when focused at a point
on the display, sensed the screen’s phosphor glow and located its position on an x-y
axis. Keyboard selections from computer-displayed templates of structured data-
sets began to be used for data entry, such as by physicians entering orders for medi-
cal procedures; for data output, such as by keyboard selections from computer
displays of standard phrases that radiologists often used to report normal (“nega-
tive”) x-ray examinations; or for routine statements, such as those commonly used
in patients’ discharge summaries.
In the 1970s computer terminals began to be located at the nursing stations in the
hospitals, and some were placed in the outpatient clinics. In the 1980s some hospi-
tals began to have computer terminals stationed at the patient’s bedside. The ability
of nurses to access the patient’s computer-based record directly at the point of care
was expected to improve the quality and documentation of nursing care at the bed-
side, and to save nursing time as well [249]. The first bedside terminals were “dumb”
terminal extensions from a host computer. Later, “intelligent” or “smart” terminals
appeared; these contained their own microcomputers with programs for transmit-
ting (downloading) the patient record into the terminal for local data entry, and then
returning (uploading) the updated record back to the central computer’s database for
permanent storage and for subsequent use at other terminals. Pesce [208] described
the use of bedside terminals, which contained microcomputers that were interfaced
by a local area network to the hospital-wide information system. Hospital personnel
used display terminals with keyboards to select data from displayed menus of infor-
38 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
mation; this allowed them to record directly into the computer, at the time of caring
for the patient, the patient’s vital signs, nursing observations, and the medications
given. Printouts from a terminal located at the bedside could include graphs of the
patient’s vital signs and a variety of useful reports.
Structured data entry and reporting were credited by Johnson [140] to have been
initiated by Slack et al. [243, 244], who used a Laboratory Instrument Computer
(LINC) to allow patients to directly enter their medical history as responses to a
series of individual questions displayed on the computer screen. Patients responded
to each question by pressing a key on the keyboard corresponding to a response of
“Yes”, or a “No”, or “I do not know”, or “I do not understand”. For a “Yes” response
a second series of displays appeared with a second-level series of questions. Slack
also employed open-ended questions, such as “What is your occupation?”, and the
patient typed in the response using the full keyboard. Greenes [120], and associates
at Harvard Medical School, developed computer-generated, structured-output sum-
maries of patient data acquired during ambulatory care visits, by selecting appropri-
ate data-sets from a displayed menu of templates. The advances in entering and
retrieving textual data and visual images by employing mobile communications
technology are described in Sect. 1.7.
Visual displays of data output appeared at the end of the 1950s, and used a matrix
of dots to form typewriter-like characters on oscilloscope screens. These were
replaced in the late 1960s by cathode ray tube (CRT) displays in which an electron
gun in the neck of the tube projected a beam of electrons that were emitted from the
surface of the cathode and were pulled towards the anode that surrounded the bell
of the picture tube. When the beam struck the front screen, which was coated on the
inside with phosphors, this area of the screen briefly glowed. Varying the voltage on
the anode modified the intensity of the brightness of the dot-of-light (a pixel) on the
screen. The electron stream passed through an electromagnetic yoke, or a deflection
device, on its way to the screen. The computer, by varying the strengths of the
yoke’s vertical and horizontal magnetic fields, deflected the electron beam and
thereby generated and positioned visible characters anywhere on the phosphor dis-
play screen. The image was maintained as the monitor’s local memory repeatedly
scanned the display to refresh the phosphor glow. In the 1960s characters were
formed on the screen by controlling the electron beam with short, line drawing
movements or by a matrix of dots. A vector generator was added to draw lines by
designating coordinate positions from one point to the next.
Raster-scan displays, such as were used in television tubes, began to be employed
in the 1980s in personal computers. As the beam moved across the screen, line-by-
line (raster), starting from the upper left corner to the lower right corner, its intensity
varied from pixel to pixel and thereby generated an image on the screen. In the
1980s monitors for early microcomputers were mostly monochrome, with white
letters on a black screen. By the mid-1980s color monitors usually used three sepa-
rate electron guns to provide red, green, and blue colored signals striking appropri-
ate triads of phosphor dots; and three dots in red, green, and blue colors made up a
pixel. In the 1980s display monitors incorporated graphics microprocessor chips.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 39
ining the changes in the shape and skew of the displayed pattern of results. If all the
test results were within normal limits, when the dots representing the test values
were connected, a normal polygon would be formed with the number of sides cor-
responding to the number of test results. Abnormal test results would distort the
polygon. For comparison both could be displayed on a radial arrangement with dots
indicating the normal and the abnormal ranges. Williams believed that graphic
radial displays were readily adaptable to enhance pattern recognition of the results
of multiple tests, and effectively depicted temporal trends in a series of results. Cole
[70] described the essential dimensions of a graphical display as its “integrality”
and the “meaningfulness” its information design created by showing all essential
data; for example, a radial graph usually presented more meaningful information
than line graph. Computer graphics and digital image processing evolved as two
different technologies aimed at different applications. Computer graphics were usu-
ally used for generating physical models, whereas digital imaging was used to cap-
ture pictures such as x-rays. Merging these two technologies was called visualization.
In medicine, applications of visualization were applied to prosthesis design, radia-
tion treatment planning, brain structure research, three-dimension modeling, and
others.
With the advent of medical “expert” systems, data acquisition went from format-
ted and menu-based textual data entry to intelligent data entry. For example, a pro-
gram at the LDS Hospital combined a centralized patient database and a medical
knowledge base, and used these two databases to create data entry screens that fit
the individual needs of the specific patient. The system also suggested procedures
and treatments for the patient’s problems [215].
In the 1970s computer terminals began to be located in medical offices and hos-
pitals; in the 1990s mobile terminals became common place; and in the 2010s elec-
tronic health records linked to smartphones and electronic tablets became
universal.
By the late 1980s health care professionals began to use handheld or semi-portable
terminals on-site to enter patient data at the point of care. Mobile cellular (cell)
phones evolved in the 1990s. In addition to the usual telephone voice communica-
tion capabilities, they had key pads that allowed users to enter text, store frequently
used numbers, send and receive text messages. Cell phones soon developed access
to high-speed networks and to the Internet. Many cell phones had cameras and sup-
ported “Bluetooth” head sets for hands-free communications.
Smartphones were developed in the 2000s with electronic, computer-like operat-
ing systems. Powered by rechargeable lithium ion batteries that could be very small
and light, they contained an electrolyte in which lithium ions passed from the cath-
ode to the anode inside the battery, and then went out on a wire in an external circuit
to provide electrical energy for the phone. Recharging the battery forced the ions
1 The Development of Digital Computers 41
back in the opposite direction to the original electrolyte. Broida [46] reported that
some smartphone manufacturers were changing to induction charging of batteries
that just required placing the phone on a special surface. Smartphones became avail-
able with computer operating systems in a variety of shapes and sizes and included
small QWERTY keyboards; interfaces for mobile telephone, email, cameras and
video; high-resolution display screens for graphics and images; and Universal Serial
Bus (USB) capabilities to connect to computers. In 2003 Skype, a free-of-cost,
mobile Internet service was introduced that allowed users of 3G mobile smart-
phones to communicate voice calls and images internationally. In 2005 YouTube
inaugurated a wireless video-sharing, web-based storage on which users could
upload, view, and share videos. Bought by Google in 2006, in 2010 YouTube pro-
vided more than two billion page views per day [122].
In 2007 the International Telecommunication Union (ITU) added WiMAX tech-
nology that included multiple wireless, broadband Internet services, including
Skype, and Voice over Internet Protocol (VOIP) that delivered low cost broadband
services. In 2010 Skype was acquired by Microsoft and became a dominant Internet
provider of audio and video communications. The word, Skype, also began to be
used as a verb. By the end of 2010 smartphones had evolved to provide capabilities
for Web searching, connections to television, GPS navigation, and social network-
ing; and they had introduced a variety of new applications such as Apple’s Siri that
used a voice-recognition program to let users answer emails by speaking, and to
direct a variety of actions. In 2010 among leading manufacturers in the United
States of 3G and 4G mobile smartphones were Apple’s iPhone, Google’s Android,
Motorola’s Droid X, and Microsoft Windows phone. Research-In-Motion’s (RIM’s)
BlackBerry (made in Canada), HTC’s Inspire (made in Taiwan), Samsung’s Galaxy
(made in Japan), and Nokia’s Symbian operating system (made in Finland) were
also among the leaders in the smartphone market in the United States. Among the
leading wireless carriers were AT&T, Google, Sprint, t-Mobile, and Verizon [62].
In 2010 fourth generation (4G) wireless technology, some with Long Term
Evolution (LTE) services, began to be marketed for smartphones, tablets, and lap-
tops, offering between four and ten times faster performance than 3G networks,
with peak speeds of 10 mbps or more. Able to service larger gigabyte loads at a
lower cost, 4G technology provided mobile voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) and
was expected to offer higher-definition (HD) voice and three-dimensional video
[180]. However, since 4G technology operated on different wireless frequencies
than did prior 3G mobile phones, they required different connectivity technology.
Sprint announced that advances in wireless communication made its WiMax 4G
network up to ten times faster than its 3G service; and Wireless Gigabit (WiGi)
Alliance was reported to provide faster transmission speeds of up to 6 gigabits-per-
second [296]. The software development, HTML5, allowed offline storage of infor-
mation and Internet utilities, and used markup programming that could add video to
a Web page [189]. By the end of 2010 some smartphones, including those provided
by Samsung and HTC, were powered with ultrafast, multi-core processors, using
AT&T’s 4G Long-Term Evolution (LTE) networks, and with large 4.5 in. displays
[54, 153, 299]. In 2010 the Apple’s iOS and the Google’s Android operating system
42 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
were the leaders for multimedia software applications in the mobile communica-
tions market [55]. Ellison [96] reported that the Verizon iPhone, to be released in
2011, would be competitive with the Apple iPhone. Microsoft announced its operat-
ing system for MS Windows 8 for release in 2012 was designed to better support
mobile applications for smartphones, computer desktops, laptops, and for tablets
[302].
Electronic tablets and digital notepads were introduced in the 2000s, equipped
with electronic and wireless facilities similar to smartphones, but with larger screens
that were better suited for displaying full text pages and videos. By 2010 electronic
tablets with up to 9–10 in. diagonal display screens included Acer Iconia, Amazon
Kindle Fire, Apple iPad, Asus Eee Pad, Barnes & Noble NOOK, Google Android,
HTC Flyer, Lenevo ThinkPad, Motorola Xoom, Nokia, Samsung Galaxy, Sony Tab,
Toshiba Thrive, and Vizio Tablet. Among the leaders in the electronic tablet market
were Apple, Motorola, Toshiba, Acer, Samsung, and Dell. Apple released its Apple
iPad 3 in 2012, and reported selling in the first quarter more than 35 million tablets
in China alone [297, 300]. Intel was reported to be developing advanced technolo-
gies for a laptop hybrid called an ultrabook that would operate entirely on its micro-
processors. By the late 2010s, laptop computers were replacing some desktop
computers since computer laptops were smaller and, as a result, portable. However,
laptops usually had smaller display screens and used rechargeable batteries as their
power source. Serwer [235] noted that consumer preference for electronic tablets
was replacing personal computers, and the preference for smartphones was revolu-
tionizing the economy and disrupting all manners of businesses, including the lap-
top, personal computer, and electronic tablet businesses, as well as the social media,
music, publishing, television, and advertising industries.
It was evident from the beginning that the acceptance of computer-based informa-
tion systems by health professionals would depend on the computer terminals they
would be using to enter and retrieve data. The computer terminal constituted the
critical human-machine interface for users, since it allowed what could be described
as something similar to a conversation mode [199]. However, a very serious prob-
lem was that humans and computers communicated in different languages.
Researchers soon found it necessary to study carefully at least two factors that
would significantly affect the user satisfaction with the system: (1) What kinds of
“smart” computer terminals would the various health professionals be asked to use
for entering and retrieving data? (2) How many terminals would be needed, and
where would they be best located? Human factors certainly needed to be considered
in order to select the computer terminals best suited for the various users of a medi-
cal information system [19]. For some users the human-machine interface con-
trolled their major perception of the system.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 43
Although clerical personnel could function fairly well using typewriter-type key-
boards, many physicians were not trained to type. Physicians usually preferred
voice dictation, although some would accept video display terminals with light-pen
or mouse-pointer selectors for data entry and retrieval. Many systems supplemented
the computer keyboards with special function keys. Some even modified their dis-
play screens by placing a vertical array of touch buttons along one side of the screen
which allowed the selection of corresponding words or phrases from a variety of
displayable menus. As an early example of the use of selector buttons, Seed [232] at
Montefiore Hospital in New York City prepared a comprehensive set of checklists,
and used a keyboard that had 30 buttons with labels at the left of each button. The
labels also were projected by the display tube for each data set. The user entered
data by pushing the button to the right of the desired label. The computer recognized
the data entered by identifying which button had been pushed, and transmitted the
data to the remote computer over telephone lines. Without typing any data, simply
by making selections from the various menus, the user could generate the patient’s
record on the display screen and then print out a copy for the patient’s paper-based
office record [225].
It was evident that computer displays needed to have the flexibility to present
data items that would meet the needs of a variety of users. Physicians wanted to use
their personal order sets; they wanted test and procedure results presented in tables
and trends. Also they wanted patient roster lists, patient records, and notification of
alerts and alarms. Nurses needed check lists of procedures and medications to be
given to their patients. Administrators wanted data on groups of patients for various
analyses used for planning and budgeting. To customize data input terminals for
health care professionals, different levels of complexity of video displays were
developed for different degrees of user expertise. These were usually designed as
orientation and training displays for first-time users, or as fully loaded data displays
for experienced users. Custom-tailored displays with individualized content for fre-
quent users could permit a full page of data to be entered with a few strokes of a
finger, such as for a set of commonly used routine orders for a patient, sometimes
referred to by physicians as their personal order set. The acceptable length of time
for a computer to answer a query varied. For interactive terminals where physicians
carried on a dialog with the computer, sub-second response times were necessary to
complete the entry of a series of orders for a patient within an acceptable time. In
the emergency room, a response to a query about an urgently sick patient might be
needed within a few seconds, whereas a few days might be an acceptable wait for
past-history information about a patient with a chronic or recurring condition.
As early as the mid-1960s, the Lockheed/Technicon hospital information system
(HIS) used television-tube video terminals that displayed 24 rows of 40 double-sized
characters, for use with a light-pen data selector containing a push-button switch;
and also had a keyboard with additional function keys. Some physicians readily
accepted this mode of computer interface for their hospital practice. In 1968 Siekert
and associates at the Mayo Clinic reported on a test of the direct entry of medical
orders by a group of 14 internists using Technicon terminals; the physicians
responded that they thought computers would speed the retrieval of patient records,
44 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
that the use of computers for such retrieval was inevitable, and that the computer
reliability was sufficient [240]. The medical information system (MIS) at the NIH’s
Clinical Center also used an adaptation of the Technicon system with its television
display terminals and push-buttons and light-pen selectors [99].
Barnett et al. [15] pointed out that the major need for an MIS was the develop-
ment of acceptable mechanisms for the entry of information into the computer. He
advocated using of online interactive terminals for information capture, because
they permitted a high degree of quality control at the time of input, and because
many kinds of information could be collected more efficiently by interactive tech-
niques. Although Barnett’s COSTAR used paper encounter forms for physicians to
enter patient data for office visits, in 1970 Barnett’s group described an operational
system in the hypertension clinic of the MGH with terminals organized for a high
degree of physician-computer interaction. The physicians used a CRT terminal
located in the examining room that was connected to a time-shared computer sys-
tem. Presented with a display of data items, the physicians selected a topic on which
they wished to comment by touching a metallic strip overlying their choice on the
display screen. The action of touching the display completed an electric circuit and
caused a code to be transmitted to the computer that indicated the choice selected;
and the computer display verified the item selected. When satisfied with the selec-
tions, the physicians proceeded to the next display frame and could choose history,
physical examination, laboratory, or therapy. After entry of the data by the physi-
cian, the progress note was printed on a typewriter terminal [120].
The Kaiser Permanente medical information system (MIS) used cathode ray tube
(CRT) visual display terminals with light pen selectors designed by Sanders
Associates. The unit was capable of displaying approximately 1,000 characters in a
vertical area about 7 × 10 in. It could display 20 lines with 52 characters on each
line. Rather than having the long axis of the display horizontal, the Sanders display
had its long axis vertical to make the displays look more like what physicians saw
on the pages of the paper-based medical record. The user activated the system by
inserting a user identification card into a reader on the terminal [242]. In the early
1970s, Control Data Corporation released their Digiscribe CRT display unit that
required a user’s finger to touch the screen or keyboard for data entry. Spectra
Medical Systems used a color video display unit with light pen selector and a key-
board for data entry [9].
Williams et al. [290–293] at the University of Illinois Urbana Champaign devel-
oped his hospital information system called Program Logic for Automatic Teaching
Operation (PLATO), using an interactive terminal with a touch-sensitive, plasma
display screen designed with a 16 × 16 grid. When intersecting infrared light beams
in the grid were intercepted by a user’s finger, the computer recognized the position
of the interruption. The terminal permitted input of data from a variety of visual
displays programmed as frames, which automatically changed as terms were
selected from each display. Called a displayed variable-phrase keyboard [58], this
approach allowed the use of standardized language and terminology. The frame on
the display screen was composed of vertical pages of terms and phrases. The selec-
tion of a term or phrase from one page resulted in the appearance of a second page
1 The Development of Digital Computers 45
of modifying terms. This process could be continued for five pages, resulting in the
construction of a sentence. Although a relatively slow process, it provided the capa-
bility of generating common clinical phrases, such as those used in personal order
sets and in much of the data entered in a physician’s practice. The PLATO system
provided interactive data entry for patient histories and for physicians’ physical
examinations of patients. Graphics displays of laboratory test results, problem lists,
care plans, and progress notes were available either encoded or in natural language.
The PLATO terminals were installed in several physicians’ offices in the commu-
nity, in the county blood bank, in a clinical pathology laboratory, and in the
University of Illinois McKinley Student Health Service [59,60]. An unusual feature
of Williams’ system was the radial clocklike, polar-orientation display of patients’
laboratory test results, which yielded distinctive patterns characteristic of specific
disorders [289].
In the 1980s Friedman [107] concluded that the existing computer terminals
failed to achieve acceptance because: (1) Many were poorly engineered and had
frequent mechanical breakdowns; (2) They had typewriter keyboards rather than
more specialized input modes; (3) Computer terminals often were placed in out-of-
way locations; (4) Computer response time often was slow; (5) The physician was
often required to take part in a long technical dialogue; and (6) Computer terminals
were expensive. With the advent of microprocessors, more sophisticated methods
were developed to minimize the need for typing by keyboard and to encourage the
direct entry of data by the physicians and nurses. Womble et al. [301] described the
use of a microprocessor-based terminal at Brooks Air Force Base, Texas, and
reported that the microcomputer could fill the screen at a rate of 960 characters-per-
second, or about ten times faster than prior terminals coupled to a host computer.
The users’ requests to the central database were stored on a floppy disk for retrieval
at any later time if desired, either via the display or the printout.
In the early 1980s, several groups were testing interactive visual display termi-
nals. Barnett’s group evaluated microprocessors with video display terminals with
24 rows by 132 columns of characters and a mouse-type or touch-screen data selec-
tor. To facilitate computer-physician interaction, entry was in codable form for
medications and laboratory test data, and in natural-language text for physical
examination findings [177]. Ash [5] and associates developed a portable, self-
contained microprocessor system that allowed patient data input, storage, retrieval,
and printout in the examining room during the patient’s office visit. A variety of
function keys directed the computer program to the particular data-entry needs of
the user; for example, the notation-problems function key permitted the entry by
physicians and nurses of their progress notes, allowed linkage of data to the patient’s
problems, and facilitated generation of a problem-oriented record.
Esterhay et al. [99] compared three terminal systems operating in the early
1980s. One was Weed’s Problem Oriented MIS (PROMIS), designed with the
patient record as its primary focus. The PROMIS terminal displayed 24 rows by 80
columns of characters; every other row was sensitive to finger touch for selecting
choices from a variety of frames of displayed functions such as “Prob List” (prob-
lem list), “Cur RX” (current treatment), and “Outst Test” (outstanding tests). Once
46 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
entered, patient data would appear in the display and could be manipulated by the
functions shown in the touch-selectable lines. The others compared by Esterhay
were the Duke Hospital Information System and the NIH Clinical Center System,
both designed to focus on the information needs of their hospitals. The Duke system
used an IBM CRT display terminal with 24 lines of 80 characters each, a light pen,
and a keyboard with programmed function keys; users could select from more than
1,000 display screens of pre-formatted items using the light pen for computer data
entry or retrieval or enter data by the keyboard. The NIH system used a modified
Technicon display terminal.
McDonald [175] developed a display in which a fixed data input form was shown
on the screen. The user moved from field to field on the displayed form to enter data,
similar to filling out a paper form; and this was considered better than when the user
remained at a fixed point on the screen and the input questions moved up the screen.
By the late 1980s, Blum and associates at Stanford University were developing a
program called RADK that could automatically extract the useful information and
produce summaries of patients’ records [88]. Using time-oriented patient records
from the ARAMIS rheumatology database, the program automatically extracted
symptoms, physical examination findings, laboratory test results, descriptors, and
diagnoses to generate a patient record summary; an interactive display allowed the
user to review the summary data.
Streveler [251] evaluated the use of visual displays for clinical applications, and
proposed the following principles for their design: (1) Minimize the number of eye
fixations required to find the needed data; (2) Minimize the distance of the total eye
movement path. (3) Minimize the number of changes in direction of the eye-
movement path. (4) Minimize the number of wide eye movements required.
Furthermore, well-designed displays should have positional, sequential, and seman-
tic consistency as to content; that is, they should be consistent in format so that the
same item (for example, the patient’s name) was always located in the same place
in the display; similar fields of data should be arranged in the same logical sequence;
and data items and labels should be readily understood.
Elting [97] and associates compared the efficiency and accuracy of data entry
achieved by two systems: (1) formatted screens that displayed lists of the data items
(for example, patient name, or diagnosis code); after each item the user entered the
appropriate data; and (2) prompted dialog that displayed menus from which the user
selected the appropriate items to fit the patient’s data They reported that neither
system was consistently superior, and wide variation was demonstrated according to
the type of data being processed. User preference was not predictive of superior
performance for either entering or editing data.
Valenta [267] at the University of Illinois in Chicago used a Q-methodology to
study physician acceptance of information technologies in the health care work-
place. Finding that physicians could be categorized as (1) independently minded,
self-motivated, and concerned, or (2) inexperienced and worried, Valenta recom-
mended varying the amount of time to introduce physicians to new technologies and
train them in their use. It was evident that computer displays needed to have the
flexibility to present data items that would meet the needs of a variety of users.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 47
multiple messages in the form of digital packets could be sent over one line. Digital
packets soon replaced analog signals in telephone, radio, and satellite communica-
tions, and packet switching was eventually adopted by major wide area networks
such as ARPANET, Telenet, and Tymnet [151]. Early computer hardware and soft-
ware had to meet specific communications requirements, or protocols, for each
remote system to be connected. Serial data transfer over an asynchronous line
(where one wire carried all the data) had requirements for data transmission speed,
the width of each datum, the start and stop signals used to control the flow of data
between computers, data transfer methods, and error checking rules used for trans-
mitting the data. The American Standard Code for Information Interchange (ASCII),
established in 1967 as a binary, 8-bit code designed to represent all characters used
in information exchange, was the most common standard used in the United States
for serial data transfer.
Twisted pairs of wires were the early usual medium for data transmission by
telephone lines, with a narrow bandwidth that was adequate for transmitting analog
voice signals. Pairs of copper wires were twisted together to decrease interference
between adjacent pairs of wires. Coaxial cables were later used for higher-speed
wideband transmission; these were a single copper wire sheathed in plastic insula-
tion and wrapped in metal or wire mesh for electromagnetic shielding.
Optical fibers, invented in the early 1950s, were glass fibers no thicker than a
strand of human hair. In 1970 Corning Glass developed an optical fiber that could
conduct light for at least 1 km [39]. Light signals traveled through the core of the
fiber and were reflected back and forth from the core’s boundary with the cladding;
thus the fiber guided light rays along its length [78]. AT&T pioneered further devel-
opment of optic fiber technology at its Bell Laboratories. However, telephone com-
panies did not begin to offer services with fiber-optic lines until 1983. Analog voice
or data signals were converted by an optic transmitter into pulses of light from a
laser or a light-emitting diode flashing on and off at very high speeds. Amplifiers
and repeaters were required in early fiber-optic systems to convert the attenuated
light pulses to electronic signals, give them a boost of electric power, convert them
back to amplified light pulses, and send them on through the next section of cable.
Immune to electrical or magnetic interference, fiber optic lines provided cleaner,
quicker, and more reliable transmission of text, voice, and images. The higher fre-
quency of light carried more information than could telephone-wire voice signals.
One single strand of glass fiber could carry 24,000 telephone conversations simul-
taneously, as compared to 4,000 conversations per pair of coaxial cables, or 24 for a
pair of copper wires. By the late 1980s fiber optic technology had improved to the
point that images could travel hundreds of kilometers without amplifiers or repeat-
ers, using fibers transparent to conducting infrared light [89]. By the end of the
1980s fiber optic cables were rapidly replacing copper coaxial cables in telephone
and communication services. This development spurred the creation of networks of
integrated data systems. By the end of the 1990s fiber optic cables, some the thick-
ness of fire hoses and packed with hundreds of thousands of miles of optical fibers,
were laid everywhere including along the floors of the oceans; they carried phone,
1 The Development of Digital Computers 49
Internet and Web traffic flowing from continent to continent, with speeds approach-
ing that of light depending on their bandwidths and data capacity.
United States Senator Al Gore proposed a network of information super-
highways linking the nation by fiber optic cables in the 1980s. Some broadband
fiber optic networks began to be introduced into large medical centers by the addi-
tion of video channels to standard baseband LAN technology. This permitted link-
ing text, voice, and video; transmitting data to and from minicomputers and laser
printers; and communicating images to and from image scanners, digitized x-ray
equipment, television monitors, and facsimile machines. In 1991 Senator Gore
again proposed an information super-highways network linking the nation by fiber-
optic cables, and the U. S. Congress passed the High Performance Computing &
Communications (HPCC) Act. Dr. Donald A.B. Lindberg, in addition to then being
the Director of the National Library of Medicine, became the first Director of
HPCC’s National Coordinating Office in 1992 [239].
Although it was important for networks to be concerned about the wires or cables
that connected computers, it became even more important how the computers com-
municated data with each other – that is, the rules or protocols they used governing
the format, response, time, message length, and error handling of messages. Orthner
[202] pointed out that the data processing industry had minimized the use of the
analog voice channels of the telephone industry and generally preferred to install
coaxial cables; as a result there were myriad LANs, each with its own proprietary
communications protocol. A decade later, Orthner et al. [204] described network
protocols as required for the standardization of the variety of processes involved in
data communication.
Communications standards for both the networks and for their transmission of
data became essential requirements for the exchange of data between different com-
puter systems. In the late 1970s the International Standards Organization (ISO) fos-
tered the development of the Open Systems Interconnection (OSI) Reference
Model. The ISO/OSI communications model used seven layers for the exchange of
data between computers within network systems. Layer one, the physical layer,
included interface hardware devices, modems, and communication lines, and the
software driver for each communication device that activated and deactivated the
electrical and mechanical transmission channels to various pieces of equipment.
Layer two, the data-link layer, provided for transfer of blocks of data between data-
terminal equipment connected to a physical link, and included data sequencing,
flow control, and error detection to assure error-free communication. Layer three,
the network control layer, provided routing and switching of messages between
adjacent nodes in the network. Layer four, the transport layer, provided an end-to-
end control of the transmission channel once the path was established. Layer five,
the session-control layer, opened communications, established a dialogue, and
maintained the connection including the control and synchronization for the transfer
of messages between two computers. Layer six, the presentation layer, insured the
message was transferred in a coded form that the receiving computer could inter-
pret. Layer seven, the application-user layer, the only part of the system apparent to
the user, provided services that facilitated data exchange between application pro-
50 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
cesses on different computers [24]. Thus each of the seven ISO layers had a defined
set of functions and a layer protocol that established the rules for exchange with the
corresponding layer in another computer.
Vendors began to understand that open systems meant the strict adherence to the
OSI standards. The connection and integration of LANs with other LANs required
the development of (1) bridges that operated at layer two of the OSI seven-layer
architecture and connected one LAN to another; (2) routers that operated at layer
three and routed packets of data between dissimilar networks; and (3) gateways that
operated at level seven and provided high-speed communications from a mainframe
computer to a network. This ISO/OSI model had a great influence on the further
development of large complex LANs. The Ethernet supported the first three levels
of the OSI model to the level of the packet, and provided system software to per-
form the remaining four levels of converting logical messages to and from packets.
IBM’s System Network Architecture (SNA) supported all seven layers of the OSI
model [28].
which then contained its own computers. Thus any computer in the network had to
communicate only with its network interface unit, which usually required a less
complicated protocol and supporting software to be present on each participating
node. Network models were one of the earliest organizational structures used for
clusters of computers with distributed databases; they displayed pointers to link
various data sets and procedures for manipulating them. Since the same data could
reside in more than one database, a communications network was required to link
such data. These early efforts led in 1971 to a Conference on Data Systems
Languages (CODASL) that advocated a variant of the network model as a hierarchi-
cal form of database with a tree-like branching structure that, at the start of the
database, defined connections between files [255].
Local area networks (LANs) typically connected on-site computers and periph-
eral devices, integrated departmental computing facilities, and connected local
machines to a supporting computer center. By 1971 prototype LANs of distributed
minicomputers were being proposed in a hospital environment [26]. Distributed
computer systems limited the effect of the failure of one computer on the operation
of the other computers. LAN communications were usually accomplished through
one of two general methods. In the first, contention (or collision-detection) access
each computer using the network had two connections, one for receiving data from,
and one for sending data to, the network. Each node could send data only when no
other message was being transmitted, so each computer had to listen for any traffic
on the channel before sending. This method was used, for example, by Xerox’s
Ethernet [146]. The second, token-passing access, used an electronic signal of a
packet of bits in a special pattern (token), that was passed from computer to com-
puter in a ring or bus network. If a computer node had no message to transmit, it
passed on the token. To transmit a message, a computer node retrieved a free token,
held it while communicating, and sent the message specifying the destination
address, and other computers checked the message as it passed by. IBM’s PCNet
and Datapoint’s ARCnet used the token-passing method [129, 241].
Database integration on a LAN meant that the user who received a response to a
query was unaware of where or how the data were stored. This technology involved
either interfacing or integrating distributed heterogeneous data. The interfacing
approach permitted exchange of data by building cross-reference tables, between
each pair of physical computer files in two databases to be interfaced, which
transformed or mapped one physical structure into the other as required; it allowed
no technological controls over data integrity. Executive functions for interfacing
could be defined in master data dictionaries used by all interfaced databases.
The integrating approach permitted actual merging of data by employing a concep-
tual schema that was mapped to database structures as well as to user requirements.
The schema standardized data by defining a consistent set of rules to be used for all
data; integrated data by pulling together the data from multiple databases; assured
data quality by enforcing data-integrity constraints; and maintained data indepen-
dence by isolating data-structure changes from users’ programs. A master data
dictionary defined, described, and managed the schema and the transforms of the
users’ data [4].
52 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
Wide area networks (WANs) typically used public telephone lines for long-
distance data transmission; and each analog message was transmitted in a continu-
ous stream known as circuit switching, that would tie up the phone line during the
entire time that one message was being sent. With packet switching, multiple mes-
sages in the form of digital packets could be sent over one line, and it soon replaced
analog signals in telephone, radio, and satellite communications. The United States
took the lead in the development of wide area computer networks for academic
research.
Star networks appeared in the 1960s when local computers began to communi-
cate with a central host, time-sharing computer; and usually used telephone lines as
links radiating out from the host computer like spokes from a central hub. All com-
munications on the network passed through the host computer to the users’ termi-
nals. The host computer rapidly shifted connections from terminal to terminal,
giving each terminal user the illusion of having exclusive access to the host com-
puter; however, if the central computer failed then all communication stopped.
Ring networks connected all computers in a loop, with each computer connected
to two others. Each message passed around the circle in a single direction, it was
received by the appropriate module, and was removed when it was returned to the
original sender. Bus networks connected all computers via “drop-offs” from a two-
way main line; and a message sent by any one computer traveled in both directions
and could be received by all other computers. Bus local-area networks (LANs) were
the most common at that time due to their lower cost, easy connectivity and expand-
ability; they permitted broadcasting to all other computers, and were resistant to
failures of any single computer.
By the mid-1980s communication specialists were planning a single, unified,
Integrated Services Digital Network (ISDN) capable of tying together every com-
puter and organization in the world. The goal was to provide a group of standards
for worldwide, universal digital interconnectivity regardless of modality, for data,
voice, and video, over ordinary telephone wires, to be potentially available from
every telephone outlet [141]. ISDN allowed computers and telephones to communi-
cate directly with each other and eliminated the need for modems. By the end of the
1980s, patchworks of ISDN in the United States showed that ISDN could success-
fully link existing equipment from multiple vendors. Orthner [203] described
important advances for digital data communication systems that evolved in the
1980s–1990s: (1) time division multiplexed (TDM) systems that allowed several
lower-speed digital communication channels to interweave onto a higher-speed
channel; (2) the evolution of the Integrated Services Digital Network (ISDN) and
the development of international standards to satisfy the needs for medical database
systems and to provide users with universal, digital interconnectivity regardless of
modality, including natural language text, voice, and three dimensional images; (3)
the increasing use of broadband fiber optics for digital data communication; and (4)
the evolving global use of wireless communications.
Wireless transmission of a spectrum of radio frequency signals provides the
capability to have instant communications almost anywhere and is used for the
transmission of radio, broadcast television, mobile phones, satellite data, and for a
1 The Development of Digital Computers 53
variety of Web services and devices. The radio wireless spectrum in the United
States is regulated for specific frequency bands which are given maximum allow-
able power levels for their emissions by procedures that were developed prior to
1950 [231]. The range used by smartphones, ultra high-frequency television, and
global positioning systems is in the 900–928 MHz frequency, where 1 Hz is one
wave cycle-per-second. The commonly used rate of digital data transmission in a
digital communication network is the megabits-per-second (mbits/s). Since the vol-
ume of data transferred is often measured in megabytes of data, and the network
transfer rate and download speed of data are often measured in megabits-per-second;
to achieve a transfer rate of 1 megabyte (1,024 kB) per-second, one needs a network
connection with a transfer rate of 8 megabits-per-second.
Generation standards for mobile communications technology began to be defined
in the 1980s by International Mobile Telecommunications (IMT) with the objec-
tives of requiring each generation to offer significant advances in performance and
capabilities as compared to the prior generation. Mobile cellular services initially
used analog radio technologies, and these were identified as first generation (1G)
systems. In 1985 the U.S. Federal Communications Commission (FCC) released
several bands of the radio spectrum for unlicensed use; and the IEEE developed
802.11 standards for WiFi wireless networking technology. The term WiFi was
applied to local area networks that were installed without wires for client devices in
order to decrease the costs of network wiring. In the 1990s a variety of commercial,
worldwide WiFi locations were operational, and led to the wide use of WiFi-enabled
devices, such as personal computers, lap top computers, and mobile phones, to
deploy local-area networks without any physical wired connections, and to sub-
scribe to various commercial services and connect to the Internet. Digital second
generation (2G) mobile technology was initiated and rapidly replaced analog 1G
networks.
Third generation (3G) mobile technology was launched in 2001 in Japan, and in
2002 in the United States by Verizon Wireless. It delivered speeds of 0.4 mbps
(megabits-per-second) to 1.5 mbps, about 2.4 times faster than by modem connec-
tions. 3G cellular phones also added functions such as video-conferencing, tele-
medicine, and global positioning system (GPS) applications that could enable a 911
call on a cell phone to inform the emergency responder of the location of the emer-
gency caller.
In 2005 Sunnyvale, California, became the first city in the United States to offer
citywide, free-of-cost WiFi service; by 2010 free WiFi services were offered at the
airports in San Jose, San Francisco, and Oakland, California, (Bay Area News
Group 06/22/2010), and free WiFi services became available in 6,700 Starbucks’
coffee shops (TIME 06/28/2010). In 2010 WiFi service enabled wireless Voice over
Internet Protocol (VOIP) to travel as data across the Internet. In 2011 an Internet
Governance Forum (IGF) was organized under the auspices of the United Nations
to construct a form of governance for the Internet. In 2012 the U.S. Congress autho-
rized the Federal Communications Commission to sell unused or unlicensed wire-
less frequencies to mobile giants like AT&T and Verizon Wireless to open new
frequencies, and connect mobile devices to new, long-range, next-generation, super
54 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
WiFi networks [124]. In 1998 the United States established the Internet Corporation
for Assigned Names and Numbers (ICANN) to manage the Internet’s address sys-
tem. In the year 2000 all major existing cellular spectrum bands were made avail-
able; and that allowed using more multi-band radios, faster mobile phones, two-way
text messaging and video transmissions. In 2012 ICANN was considering adding
more generic top-level domains as the suffixes of Web addresses to the existing 22
that included .com and .org and .gov, and others.
In the 2000s Verizon initiated its Health Information Exchange, and other health
care information technology vendors announced cloud computing services using
Web-based technology that could communicate relatively secure and protected
patient data between collaborating health care providers. The Wireless Gigabit
(WiGi) Alliance reported an advance in wireless communication that provided
faster transmission speeds of up to 6 gigabits-per-second [296]. A software develop-
ment called HTML5 allowed offline storage of information and Internet utilities,
and used markup programming for Web pages that could add video to a Web page
[189].
Available in a variety of shapes, sizes, keyboards, and operating systems, mobile
phones came with interfaces that provided telephone, email, screens for graphics
and photos, connections to social networks (including Facebook, Flickr, and
Twitter), and with 5–8 megapixel cameras.
The 1957 launch of the Soviet satellite, Sputnik I, surprised the United States and
prompted then President Eisenhower to create within the Department of Defense
(DoD) an Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) with an objective to
develop computer and communications technology for defense purposes. In 1962
the first successful communications satellite, Telstar, was built, launched, and oper-
ated by Bell Laboratories; it relayed computer data and live television signals across
the United States and to Europe. In 1970 the National Library of Medicine’s Lister
Hill Center began using satellite communications to send medical information to
remote villages in Alaska. Telenet Communications Corporation, the first public
packet-switching network, was initiated in 1972 by Bolt, Beranek, and Newman
(BB&N); later it became a subsidiary of General Telephone and Electric (GTE)
[229]. In the 1980s GTE’s Telenet served more than half- million terminal users in
and around 400 U.S. cities. Tymnet, an early competitor of Telenet, built a network
with more capacity than its time-sharing business could fill. To use some of the
excess capacity, Tymnet contracted to provide communications links between ter-
minals installed in medical schools, and with the National Institutes of Health (NIH)
to provide communication links between a computer and bibliographic databases in
the National Library of Medicine (NLM). This arrangement worked out so well that
other host computers were added to the network, which employed a variant of the
packet-switching technology pioneered by ARPANET [74]. Earth orbiting satellites
1 The Development of Digital Computers 55
the U.S. Department of Defense declared TCP/IP as the standard for all military
computer networking. In 1983 the migration to TCP/IP was officially completed;
and by1985 computer vendors initiated its commercial use [125].
The Internet emerged in 1986 when the National Science Foundation (NSF) ini-
tiated its network (NSFNET), and joined ARPANET and other networks to form the
Internet. In 1986 a total of 2,308 Internet hosts had been registered [115]. In 1995
NSFNET terminated its funding of Internet, and awarded grants to regional net-
works so they could buy their own Internet connections. Soon the Internet could be
accessed in a variety of ways, and became the term generally applied to the inter-
networking of networks. Browser programs, such as Mosaic and Netscape, allowed
a user to download files from the Internet directly to their personal computers. In
1989 Case founded American Online (AOL), an Internet service provider (ISP), to
furnish any user who had a computer with a modem connected to a telephone line,
the interactive access to the worldwide use of email through the Internet. Major
online computer services, including American Online (AOL), Compuserve, and
others, began to offer complete Internet services. In the 1990s as personal comput-
ers began to connect to the Internet through television cables that could transmit
data more than 100 times faster than the fastest modems, the communication of
video became common [113]. In the 2000s the Web’s support of email began to
replace some modes of personal communications provided by postal mail and the
telephone. Hartzband [130] observed that nothing changed clinical practice more
fundamentally than the Internet, which transformed communications between doc-
tor and patient, since it provided easily retrieved information to physicians for clini-
cal decision support, and also to patients in search of self-diagnosis and better
understanding of their diseases and prescribed therapies.
The National Library of Medicine (NLM) was frequently accessed in the 1980s
using the Internet through Telnet, which facilitated wide distribution of NLM’s
computer resources and allowed Internet users access to the NLM databases as if
they were using a terminal within the NLM [303]. A program called Gopher, origi-
nated at the University of Minnesota, was superficially similar to Telnet and also
allowed access to a wide range of resources [113]. Soon NLM’s MEDLINE became
available to users through a nationwide network of many individual users and insti-
tutional users in government agencies, academic centers, hospitals, and commercial
organizations. Its growth was remarkable. In 1997 alone, the NLM’s MEDLINE,
with PubMed and Internet Grateful Med, received requests for 75 million searches
[169].
The Internet became global in the 1990s when Berners-Lee, a computer scientist
at CERN, the European Particle Physics Laboratory in Geneva, Switzerland, devised
a method for linking diverse Internet pages to each other by using a hypertext pro-
gram that embedded software within documents to point to other related documents
and thereby link non-sequentially stored information. Documents were stored on
the Web using Hypertext Markup Language (HTML) and displayed by a Web
browser that exchanged information with a Web server using the HTTP protocol. A
user could find, link to, and browse related subjects by clicking on highlighted or
underlined text, and then skip to other pages across the Internet. Berners-Lee
58 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
assigned and stored a Universal Resource Locator (URL) address to each computer
location on the Web, and used the Hypertext Transfer Protocol (HTTP) with TCP/
IP developed for the ARPANET that allowed users to move around the Web and
connect to any URL in any other location. He used Hypertext Markup Language
(HTML) as the programming code to create hypertext links; thus, a user with a
computer-pointing device, such as a mouse, could click on a high-lighted word and
the links could transfer desired papers from one journal to another, display computer-
based text, graphics, and images, and compile digital information from many
sources.
In the 1990s the Internet could quickly and reliably deliver text, email, music,
and images by employing a variety of digital communication technologies. By 1995
about 13,000 Web sites allowed public access. The User’s Network (USENET) was
available for discussion groups especially focused on medical subjects; and mailing
list services commonly referred as listserv provided hundreds of medicine-related
mailing lists covering all specialties in medicine. In 1998 the Web transmitted about
five million emails each minute, and also began to be used by some physicians for
providing consultations and patient education [40]. In 1999 private corporations and
colleges sponsored the evolving Internet-2; and the Federal government supported
the Next Generation (NG) Internet using fiber optic digital networks to develop the
infrastructure for the information revolution that would allow the faster transfer of
a mix of text, voice, and video.
World Wide Web (commonly referred to as the Web) was the name applied by
Berners-Lee to the collection of URLs, an addressing system capable of linking
documents on the Internet from one computer to another. The Web changed the
usual two tier model (client-user, data processing server), to a three tier model
(client-user, data processing applications server, database management server) over
different distributed computers [21, 76, 139]. Whereas the Internet-based resources
were often difficult for the non-expert to use, the Web supported an inexpensive,
easy-to-use, cross-platform graphic-interface to the Internet. The most significant
development that drove the rapid growth of the Web were the ease with which a user
could successfully navigate the complex Web of linked computer systems of the
Internet to access large online libraries with computer-mediated, inter-document
links; and use general hypertext systems for reading and writing to form collabora-
tion links, post messages, and conduct scientific or social networking. An interna-
tional organization called the World Wide Web Consortium, composed of industry
companies, government agencies, and universities, was formed to set Internet
policies. By 2010 programmers at the Consortium had mapped 203 databases
together using 395 million links [270]. In 1998, the Internet Corporation for
Assigned Names and Numbers (ICANN) was created by the American Department
of Commerce to generate, register, and control the suffixes for the domain names of
information used on the Internet, such as “.com” or “.net” or “.org”, and many oth-
ers. Similarly, the Internet Assigned Numbers Authority (IANA) uses four numbers
from 0 to 255, separated by dots, to uniquely identify every device attached to the
Internet.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 59
services, and many others that allowed transferring files between computers, smart-
phones, and tablets. Barret [16] reported that Dropbox, developed by Andrew
Houston, was storing on remote servers about 20 billion documents for four million
client users with their 500,000 computers. When a user downloaded the Dropbox
software to the user’s computer, it created a folder for placing documents that the
user wanted to access from the Web. However, the cloud storage of electronic
patients’ medical records did introduce new and potentially serious security and
privacy concerns. Virtualization is a term sometimes used to describe moving data
from a fixed storage site into a cloud. According to The Economist [260], computing
clouds were essentially digital service factories that were global utilities accessible
from all corners of the planet; as a “cloud of clouds,” they offered three levels of
service: (1) “Software as a Service” (SaaS) included Web-based applications; (2)
“Platform as a Service” (PaaS) allowed developers to write applications for Web
and mobile devices; and (3) “Infrastructure as a Service” (IaaS) allowed basic com-
puting services that companies, like Amazon, used as their computer center. Lev-
Ram [162] reported that Intel was developing cloud services that could work
seamlessly on any device, allowing software developers to build applications using
a standard set of tools. Intel’s Cloud Builders program provided step-by-step guid-
ance to companies that wanted to move data and services to the cloud; and Intel
brought together a group of about 70 companies to develop cloud computing soft-
ware and hardware standards. Soon IBM and other commercial vendors soon fol-
lowed in offering cloud services.
The history of the early Internet and of the World Wide Web, and of their rela-
tionship to medical informatics has been described in some detail by Glowniak
[113] and by Hafner and Lyon [125]. On reviewing the history of the ARPANET
and the Internet, Shortliffe [238, 239] judged it to be one of the most compelling
examples of how government investments led to innovations with broad economic
and social impact.
Blum [29] observed that in the 1940s a person was given a calculator and a set of
formulae and was called a (human) computer. In the 1950s when an electronic
device carried out the arithmetic functions of addition, subtraction, multiplication,
and division, or the logical functions of and, or, and not, and was called a computer.
However, with the development of digital computers they needed: (1) a central pro-
cessing unit, and a primary main memory to hold the data being processed; (2) a
program of instructions for processing the data, circuitry to perform arithmetic and
logic operations and to control the execution of instructions; (3) peripheral equip-
ment including secondary or auxiliary storage devices such as magnetic tapes and
discs; data input devices such as keyboards, card and tape readers, and data input
capabilities from secondary storage devices; and data output devices such as
62 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
printers, displays, and plotters; and (4) communicating devices to receive and to
transmit processed information.
These past eight decades have witnessed the transition from the end of the indus-
trial age to the beginning of the information age. Computers evolved from expen-
sive, slow, mainframe computers in the 1960s, to minicomputers with integrated
circuits in the 1970s, to personal computers and local area networks in the 1980s, to
the Internet and the World Wide Web using mobile smartphones and electronic
tablets in the 1990s, to creating social networks and Web 2.0 in the 2000s, and to
exploiting cloud computing and global networks in the 2010s.
The invention of the computer chip with its integrated circuits produced dramatic
changes in computers, and was probably the most important event to usher in the
information age. Although the computer’s central processing unit was the basis for
most early advances in informatics, it was the computer’s software that provided the
computer languages, programs, procedures, and documentation that made the hard-
ware usable for applications. The first computer programs used the lowest level of
machine codes for instructions to process data. Higher-level languages soon evolved
to more efficiently program the increasingly powerful computers and to better meet
the requirements of different users. By the 1980s many of the most commonly used
programs were commercially available, and most computer users did little program-
ming themselves. Noteworthy is the contribution of Barnett and associates [12] at
the Laboratory of Computer Science at the Massachusetts General Hospital, who
developed as early as the 1960s the language called MUMPS (Massachusetts
General Hospital Utility Multi-Programming System) that provided an operating
system, a database management system for handling large volumes of information,
and an easy interactive mode for programmer-computer communication. MUMPS
became one of the most common programming languages in the United States, used
in the large medical information systems of the Department of Defense, the Veterans
Administration, and some large commercial information systems.
Computer databases evolved with the development of computers and informatics
technology. In the 1950s large mainframe, time-sharing computers were used for
the earliest computer applications in medicine; most data were entered into the
computer by punched cards and stored on magnetic tape or disc drives. The printed
output was usually produced in batches. In the 1980s database technology and data-
base management systems evolved as computer storage devices became larger and
cheaper, computers became more powerful, more efficient computer programs were
developed, and computer networks and distributed database systems were devel-
oped. Edelstein [93] noted that early users had to understand how and where the
data were stored. Data could not be shared by different applications, resulting in
much duplication of data and effort. Soon, however, computer systems were devel-
oped to permit the standardization of data access methods and to allow sharing of
data.
Over time the complexity of computer applications greatly increased. More com-
mercial software packages came to market, and software costs became a greater
1 The Development of Digital Computers 63
References
31. Blum BI, Orthner HF. The MUMPS programming language. In: Orthner HF, Blum BI, edi-
tors. Implementing health care information systems. New York: Springer; 1989.
32. Blum BI, Orthner HF. Clinical information systems. New York: Springer; 1986.
33. Blum BI. Information systems for patient care. New York: Springer; 1984.
34. Blum BI. An information system for developing information systems. AFIPS Natl Comp
Conf. 1983;52:743–52. Arlington, VA: AFIPS Press.
35. Blum RL. Displaying clinical data from a time-oriented database. Comput Biol Med.
1981;11:197–210.
36. Blumenthal L, Waterson J. The use of a microcomputer as a front-end processor for data base
management systems on large computers. Proc SCAMC. 1981;303–6.
37. Bonner P, Gralla P. OS/2 building for the future. PC Comput. 1988;1:76–88.
38. Boraiko AA. The chip: electronic mini marvel that is changing your life. Natl Geogr.
1982;162:421–56.
39. Boraiko AA. Fiber optics: harnessing light by a thread. Natl Geogr. 1979;156:516.
40. Borowitz SM, Wyatt JC. The origin, content, and workload of e-mail consultations. JAMA.
1998;280:1321–4.
41. Bott E. Inside windows 4.0. PC Comput. 1994;7:124–39.
42. Bowie J. Methods of implementation of the MUMPS global data-base. Inform Health Soc
Care. 1979;4:151–64.
43. Brandt CA, Morse R, Matthews K, Sun K, Deshpande AM, et al. Metadata-driven creation of
data marts from an EAV-modeled clinical research database. Int J Med Inform.
2002;65:225–41.
44. Brazier MA. From calculating machines to computers and their adoption by the medical sci-
ences. Med Hist. 1973;17:235–43.
45. Brigham B. CP/M (computer operating system) summary guide for version 1.4 and 2.0.
Glastonbury: Rosetta Stone; 1980.
46. Broida R. What features will smartphones have? Pop Sci. 2011;279:88.
47. Bronzino JD. Computerization concepts in the clinical laboratory. In: Bronzino JD, editor.
Computer applications in patient care. Menlo Park: Addison-Wesley; 1982. p. 117–37.
48. Brown J, Vallbona C. A new patient record system using the laser card. Proc SCAMC.
1988;602–5.
49. Bryan M. The year of the data base. Pers Comput. 1988;12(1):100–9.
50. Bulkeley WM. Who built the first PC? Wall Str J. 1986 (May 14);31.
51. Bull BS, Korpman RA. The clinical laboratory computer system. Arch Pathol Lab Med.
1980;104:449–51.
52. Burks AR, Burks AW. The first electronic computer: the Atanasoff story. Ann Arbor:
University of Michigan Press; 1989.
53. Burks AW, Burks AR. The ENIAC: first general-purpose electronic computer. 1981. MD
Comput. 1994;12:206–12.
54. Caulfield B. The Steve Jobs economy. Forbes. 2011;188:16.
55. Caulfield B. Is Android vs. Apple like PC vs Mac? Forbes. 2011;188:44.
56. Chamberlin DD, Boyce RF. SEQUEL: a structured English query language. Proc 1974 ACM
SIGFIDET (now SIGMOD) workshop on data description, access and control.
1974;249–64.
57. Chase HS, Kaufman DR, Johnson SB, Mendonca EA. Voice capture of medical residents’
clinical information needs during an inpatient rotation. JAMIA. 2009;16:387–94.
58. Williams BT, Chen TT, Elston J, et al. The variable phrase keyboard and the clinical report.
In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia
Specialists Medical Books; 1977. p. 127–34.
59. Chen TT, Williams BT, Levy AH. Graphically enhanced medical information system net-
work. In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia
Specialists; 1977. p. 135–44.
60. Chen TT, Williams BT, Levy AH. A depository health-computer network. Inform Health Soc
Care. 1976;1:167–78.
66 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
61. Childs BW. Bedside terminals: status and the future. Healthc Comput Commun.
1988;5:12–4.
62. Chiodo C, Hopkins B, Miles G. 101 essential apps for Android, Blackberry, and iPhone. PC
World. 2010;28:91–8.
63. Chute CC, Crowson DL, Bluntrock JD, Crowson DL. Medical information retrieval and
WWW browsers at Mayo. Proc AMIA. 1995;68–73.
64. Cimino JJ, Socratous SA, Grewal R. The informatics superhighway: prototyping on the
World Wide Web. Proc SCAMC. 1995;111–5.
65. Clark WA, Molnar CE. The LINC: a description of the laboratory instrument computer. Ann
NY Acad Sci. 1964;115:653–68.
66. Codd EF. Extending the database relational model to capture more meaning. ACM Trans
Database Syst (TODS). 1979;4:397–434.
67. Codd EF. Further normalizations of the data base relational model. In: Rustin R, editor. Data
base systems. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall; 1972. p. 33–64.
68. Codd EF. A relational model of data for large shared data banks. Commun ACM.
1970;13:377–87.
69. Codd EF, Codd SB, Salley CT. Providing OLAP (On-Line Analytical Processing) to user-
analysts: an IT mandate. Technical report. San Jose, CA: Codd and Associates; 1993.
70. Cole WG. Integrality and meaning: essential and orthogonal dimensions of graphical data
display. Proc SCAMC. 1993;404–8.
71. Collen M. A guide matrix for technological system evaluation. J Med Syst. 1978;2:249–54.
72. Collen MF. History of MHTS. In: Collen MF, editor. Multiphasic health services. New York:
Wiley; 1978. p. 1–45.
73. Coltri A. Databases in health care. In: Lehmann HP, editor. Aspects of electronic health
record systems. New York: Springer; 2006. p. 225–51.
74. Conlan RR. Understanding computers. Alexandria: Time-Life Books; 1986.
75. Connelly D. Communicating laboratory results effectively; the role of graphical displays.
Proc AAMSI Cong. 1983;113–5.
76. Connolly TM, Begg CE. Database management systems: a practical approach to design. 2nd
edition. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1999.
77. Consumer Reports. IBM clones. Consumer reports 1989 buying guide. 1989;53:308–12.
78. Cook JS. Communication by optical fiber. Sci Am. 1973;229:28–35.
79. Cox JR. Special purpose digital computers in biology. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1965. p. 67–99.
80. Crawford FR. Introduction to data processing. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall; 1968.
81. Crecine JP. The next generation of personal computers. Science. 1986;231:935–43.
82. Cringely RX. Accidental empires: how the boys of Silicon Valley make their millions, battle
foreign competition, and still can’t get a date. Reading: Addison-Wesley; 1992.
83. Davis M. The chip at 35. Pers Comput. 1983;7:127–31.
84. Davis RM. Evolution of computers and computing. Science. 1977;195:1096–102.
85. Dawson J. A family of models. Byte. 1989;14:277–86.
86. Denning PJ, Brown RI. Operating systems. Sci Am. 1984;251:94–130.
87. Dinu V, Nadkarni P. Guidelines for the effective use of entity-attribute-value modeling for
biomedical databases. Int J Med Inform. 2007;76:769–79.
88. Downs SM, Walker MG, Blum RL. Automated summarization of on-line medical records;
1986.
89. Drexhage MG, Moynihan CT. Infared optical fibers. Sci Am. 1989;259:110–6.
90. Eamos C. A computer perspective. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; 1973.
91. ECRI. Clinical information systems improve with new standard. Health Tech Trends.
1989;1:3–6.
92. Edelson BI, Pollack L. Satellite communications. Science. 1977;195:1125–33.
93. Edelstein SZ. Clinical research databases: a microscopic look. Proc SCAMC. 1981;279–80.
94. Edge RA, Marciniak TA. The ADA environment. Proc SCAMC. 1984;882–5.
95. Ekberg J, Ericson L, Timpka T, Eriksson H, Nordfeldt S, Hanberger L, et al. Web 2.0 systems
supporting childhood chronic disease management. J Med Syst. 2010;34:107–17.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 67
129. Haney JP. Introduction to local area networks for microcomputers. Proc SCAMC.
1984;779–85.
130. Hartzband P, Groopman J. Untangling the web: patients, doctors, and the internet. N Engl J
Med. 2010;362:1063–6.
131. Hassig L. Understanding computers, memory and storage. Richmond: Time-Life Books;
1987.
132. Helvey W, Brdlik M, Peterkin K. Online medical databases–1985: status and prognosis.
Healthc Comput Commun. 1985;2:28.
133. Hodges A. Alan Turing: the enigma. New York: Simon and Schuster; 1983.
134. Hodges P. LAN growth surges. Datamation. 1989;36:32–6.
135. Hornyak T. RFID powder. Sci Am. 2008;298:68–71.
136. Hughes S. Bedside terminals: CliniCom. MD Comput. 1988;5(1):22–8.
137. Ingalls DH. Design principles behind smalltalk. BYTE Mag. 1981;6:286–98.
138. James JS. What is FORTH? A tutorial introduction. Byte. 1980;5:100–26.
139. Jennings DM, Landweber LH, Fuchs IH, Farber DJ, Adrion WR. Computer networking for
scientists. Science. 1986;231:943–50.
140. Johnson KB, Rosenbloom ST. Computer-based documentation. In: Lehmann HP, Roderer N,
Abbott P, editors. Aspects of electronic health record systems. New York: Springer; 2006.
p. 308–28.
141. Johnson RL. Economic benefits of hospital system automation. US Healthc. 1989;6:38–40.
142. Johnson S. More and more of Moore’s law. Intel is venturing beyond the co-founders old
prediction with new chip technology. San Jose Mercury News. 2011.
143. Johnson SB. Generic data modeling for clinical repositories. JAMIA. 1996;3:328–39.
144. Johnson SB, Chatziantoniou D. Extended SQL for manipulating clinical warehouse data.
Proc AMIA Symp. 1999;819.
145. Kahane SN, Goldberg HR, Roth HP, Lenhard RE, Johannes RS. A multimodal communica-
tions interface for endoscopy data collection with automated text report generation. Proc
MEDINFO. 1986;26–30.
146. Kahn RE. Networks for advanced computing. Sci Am. 1987;257:136–43.
147. Kay A. Computer software. Sci Am. 1984;251:53–9.
148. Kay A. Microelectronics and the personal computer. Sci Am. 1977;237:230–44.
149. Kernighan BW, Ritchie DM. The state of C. Byte. 1988;13:205–10.
150. Kildall G. CP/M: a family of 8-and 16-bit operating systems. Byte. 1981;6:216–46.
151. Kimbleton SR, Schneider GM. Computer communication networks: approaches, objectives,
and performance considerations. ACM Comput Surv (CSUR). 1975;7:129–73.
152. Kornfeld WA. Pattern-directed invocation languages. Byte. 1979;4:34–48.
153. Kowitt B. One hundred million Android fans can’t be wrong. Fortune. 2011;164:93–7.
154. Lacson R, Long W. Natural language processing of spoken diet records. Proc AMIA Symp.
2006;454–8.
155. Larson J. The ins and outs of CP/M. Byte. 1981;6:268–82.
156. Larson R, Long W. Natural language processing of spoken diet records. Proc AMIA Ann
Symp. 2006;454–8.
157. Ledley RS. A personal view of sowing the seeds. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA, editors. A history
of medical informatics. New York: ACM Press/Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 84–110.
158. Ledley RS. Introduction to digital computers and automatic programming. Biomed Electron
IRE Trans. 1961;8:158–67.
159. Leibowitz MR. Profile: founding father Robert Noyce. PC/Comput. 1989;2:94–100.
160. Levine RD. Supercomputers. Sci Am. 1982;246:118–35.
161. Lev-Ram M. Intel’s (latest) mobile comeback. Fortune. 2012;164:33–5.
162. Lev-Ram M. Intel’s sunny vision for the cloud. Fortune. 2011;164:95–100.
163. Levy AH. Recent developments in microcomputers in medicine. Proc AAMSI. 1984;341–5.
164. Lewis HR, Papadimitriou CH. The efficiency of algorithms. Sci Am. 1978;238:96–109.
165. Lewkowicz J, Walters RF. Design of an advanced MUMPS programming environment. Proc
SCAMC. 1986;336–43.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 69
166. Liedtke M. Google search for knowledge. Bay Area News Group. 2012; C.1.2.
167. Lindberg D. The invention of the internet protocol suite. Personal communication. 2011.
168. Lindberg D. Electronic retrieval of clinical data. J Med Educ. 1965;40:753–9.
169. Lindberg D, Humphreys BL. Medicine and health on the internet: the good, the bad, and the
ugly. JAMA. 1998;280:1303–4.
170. Linowes JS. It’s an attitude. Byte. 1988;13:219–27.
171. Lockwood R. UNIX. Pers Comput. 1990;14:79–86.
172. London JW. A computer solution to clinical and research computing needs. Proc SCAMC.
1985;722–6.
173. Mackintosh AR. Dr. Atanasoff’s computer. Sci Am. 1988;259:72–8.
174. McDonald C, Wiederhold G, Simborg DW, et al. A discussion of the draft proposal for data
exchange standards. Proc IEEE. 1984;406–13.
175. McDonald CJ. The medical gopher: a microcomputer based physician work station. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;453–9.
176. McGath G. A look at LISP. Byte. 1977;2:156–61.
177. McLatchey J, Barnett GO, McDonnell G, Piggins J, Zielstorff RD, et al. The capturing of
more detailed medical information in COSTAR. Proc SCAMC. 1983;329–32.
178. Mediati N, Niccolai J. Microsoft introduces windows 8. PC World. 2011;15–6.
179. Meeks BN. Dialing up 1990. Byte. 1989;14:273–8.
180. Mies G. Best cell phones by carriers. PC World. 2010;28:38–40.
181. Miles WD. A history of the National Library of Medicine; the nation’s treasury of medical
knowledge. Washington, DC: US Government Printing Office; 1982.
182. Millard M. Dragon targets small practices with new speech technology. Health Care IT News,
Jan 30, 2011.
183. Miller MJ. Apple’s Macintosh. Pop Comput. 1984;3.
184. Minh CC, Chung J, Kozyrakis C, Olukotun K. STAMP: Stanford transactional applications
for multi-processing. Workload Characterization. IISWC 2008. Proc IEEE Int Symp.
2008;35–46.
185. Mitroff S. Intel’s first microprocessor turns 40. PC World. 2012;30:18.
186. Molnar CE, Clark WA. Development of the LINC. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA, editors. A his-
tory of medical informatics. New York: ACM Press/Addison-Wesley Pub. Co; 1990.
p. 119–40.
187. Monahan ML, Kiley M, Patterson C. Bar code technology: its use within a nursing informa-
tion system. Proc MEDINO. 1986;26–30.
188. Moore CH. The evolution of FORTH, an unusual language. Byte. 1980;5:76–92.
189. Mulroy J. Web 101: new site-design tools are coming. PC World. 2010;28:18.
190. Myer EP. A time-sharing multi-unit computing system. Ann NY Acad Sci.
1966;128:738–45.
191. Nedkarni PM. Management of evolving map data: data structures and algorithms based on
the framework map. Genomics. 1995;30(3):565–73.
192. Nadkarni PM, Marenco L. Easing the transition between attribute-value databases and con-
ventional databases for scientific data. Proc AMIA Symp. 2001;483–7.
193. Nadkarni PM, Brandt CM, Marenco L. WebEAV: automatic metadata-driven generation of
web interfaces to entity-attribute-value databases. JAMIA. 2000;7:343–56.
194. Nadkarni PM, Marenco L, Chen R, Skoufos E, Shepherd G, Miller P. Organization of hetero-
geneous scientific data using the EAV/CR representation. JAMIA. 1999;6:478–93.
195. Nadkarni PM, Brandt C, Frawley S, Sayward FG, Einbinder R, et al. Managing attribute-
value clinical trials data using the ACT/DB client-server database system. JAMIA.
1998;5:139–51.
196. Nedkarni PM, Cheung K-H. SQLGEN: an environment for rapid client–server database
development. Comput Biomed Res. 1995;28:479–9.
197. Newbower RS, Cooper JB, Edmondson JE, Maier WR. Graphics-tablet for data-entry in
computer-assisted anesthesia record-keeping. Proc SCAMC. 1981;139–42.
70 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
198. Newell A, Sproull RF. Computer networks: prospects for scientists. Science.
1982;215:843–52.
199. Nickerson RS. Man-computer interaction: a challenge for human factors research.
Ergonomics. 1969;12:501–17.
200. Noyce RN. Microelectronics. Sci Am. 1977;237:62–9.
201. O’Malley C. The new operating systems. Pers Comput. 1986;10:181–5.
202. Orthner HE. New communication technologies for hospital information systems. In: Bakker
AR, Ball MJ, Scherrer JR, Willem JL, editors. Towards new hospital information systems.
Amsterdam: North-Holland; 1988. p. 203–12.
203. Orthner HF. Medical informatics: quo vadis? MD Comput. 1992;9(2):14–5.
204. Orthner HF, Scherrer JR, Dahlen R. Sharing and communicating health information: sum-
mary and recommendations. Int J Biomed Comput. 1994;34:303–18.
205. Pearlman D. How to choose an operating system. Pop Comput. 1984;3:148–50.
206. Pearson WR. Programming languages II. MD Comput. 1985;2:11–22.
207. Pendse N. OLAP omnipresent. Byte. 1998;23:1–2.
208. Pesce J. Bedside terminals: MedTake. MD Comput. 1988;5:16.
209. Pierce JR. Electronics: past, present, and future. Science. 1977;195:1092–5.
210. Pierce JR. Communications. Sci Am. 1972;227:31–41.
211. Pogue D. Talk to the machine. Sci Am. 2010;303:40.
212. Poon EG, Keohane CA, Yoon CS, Ditmore M, Bane A, et al. Effect of bar-code technology
on the safety of medication administration. N Engl J Med. 2010;362:1698–707.
213. Pournelle J. The operating system jungle. Pop Comput. 1984;81–6.
214. Pournelle J. BASIC, computer languages and computer adventures. Byte. 1980;5:222–32.
215. Prokosch HU, Pryor TA. Intelligent data acquisition in order entry programs. Proc SCAMC.
1988;454–8.
216. Rapp W. Fourth generation languages. Comput Healthc. 1985;6:38–40.
217. Reid-Green K. History of computers: the IBM 704. Byte. 1979;4:190–2.
218. Robinson P. A world of workstations. Byte. 1987;12:251–60.
219. Robson D. Object-oriented software systems. Byte. 1981;6:74–86.
220. Rosch WL. Calculated RISC. PC Comput. 1988;1:172–88.
221. Rosen S. Electronic computers: a historical survey. ACM Comput Surv (CSUR).
1969;1:7–36.
222. Rubin C. Workstations: the personal computer alternative. Pers Comput. 1988;12:124–33.
223. Runyan L. The datamation hall of fame. Datamation. 1987;33:56.
224. Schatz W. United States computer research’s basic dilemma. Datamation. 1989;35:44–7.
225. Schenker WJ. Physician-generated clinical records using a menu-driven, touch-panel micro-
computer. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1405.
226. Schenthal JE. Clinical concepts in the application of large scale electronic data processing.
In: Proc 2nd IBM medical symposium. New York: IBM; 1960.
227. Schenthal JE, Sweeney JW, Nettleton WJ, Yoder RD. Clinical application of electronic data
processing apparatus: III. System for processing of medical records. JAMA.
1963;186:101–5.
228. Schipma PB, Cichocki EM, Ziemer SM. Medical information on optical disc. Proc SCAMC.
1987;732.
229. Schultz EK, Brown RW. The interactive medical record: a hypermedia prototype. Proc
SCAMC. 1988;15–7.
230. Schultz EK, Brown RW. Graphmaker: a step in the design of a universal interface for a hos-
pital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1989;675–8.
231. Sciences NN. Academies of calling all frequencies. NAS Infocus. 2010;10:1–2.
232. Seed JC. Restricted data formats. Ann N Y Acad Sci. 1969;161:484–526.
233. Segaller S. Nerds: a brief history of the internet. New York: TV Books, LLC; 1999.
234. Seltzer L. Software returns to its source. PC Mag. 1999;18:166–78.
235. Serwer A. Android calling. Fortune. 2011;164:8.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 71
236. Shatkay H, Chen N, Blostein D. Integrating image data into biomedical text categorization.
Bioinformatics. 2006;22:e446–53.
237. Shifman M, Jelovsek FR. Prolog: a language for programming medical logic. MD Comput.
1988;5:36–40.
238. Shortliffe EH. Networking health: learning from others, taking the lead. Health Aff
(Millwood). 2000;19:9–22.
239. Shortliffe EH. The next generation internet and health care: a civics lesson for the informatics
community. Proc AMIA Ann Symp. 1998;8–14.
240. Siekert RG, Hisey BL, Williams PE, Uber GT. A video terminal light-pen device for ordering
medical tests. JAMA. 1968;206:351–6.
241. Simborg DW. Local area networks: why? what? what if? MD Comput. 1984;1:10–20.
242. Singer SJ. Visual display terminals in a hospital information system (HIS). Comput Biomed
Res. 1970;3:510–20.
243. Slack WV, Hicks GP, Reed CE, Van Cura LJ. A computer-based medical-history system. N
Engl J Med. 1966;274:194–8.
244. Slack WV, Peckham BM, Van Cura LJ, Carr WF. A computer-based physical examination
system. JAMA. 1967;200:224–8.
245. Smith MB, Burke KE, Torgerson JS, Stollerman JE, Kern DC, et al. Logical and efficient
conversation between patients and the telephone linked computer system. Proc SCAMC.
1988;463–7.
246. Spivey BE, O’Neill J. The use of optical scanning as a means of computer input in medicine.
JAMA. 1969;208:665–72.
247. Stahl JE, Holt JK, Gagliano NJ. Understanding performance and behavior of tightly coupled
outpatient systems using RFID: initial experience. J Med Syst. 2011;35:291–7.
248. Stead WW. A quarter-century of computer-based medical records. MD Comput.
1989;6:74–81.
249. Stefanchik MF. Point-of-care information systems: improving patient care. Comput Healthc.
1987;8:78.
250. Straube MJ, Hammond WE, Stead WW. The GEMISCH programming language. In: Orthner
HF, Blum B, editors. Implementing health care information systems. New York: Springer;
1989. p. 384–95.
251. Streveler DJ, Harrison PB. Judging visual displays of medical information. MD Comput.
1985;2:26–38.
252. Stroustrup B. C++ users await next release. Byte. 1989;14:11–2.
253. Stroustrup B. A better C. Byte. 1988;13:215–8.
254. Taylor R. The computer: concept, development and problem environment. J Chronic Dis.
1966;19:333–48.
255. Taylor RW, Frank RL. CODASYL data-base management systems. ACM Comput Surv
(CSUR). 1976;8:67–103.
256. Tello ER. Between man and machine. Byte. 1988;13:288–93.
257. Terdiman J. Ambulatory care computer systems in office practice: a tutorial. Proc AMIA.
1982;195–201.
258. Tesler L. The smalltalk environment. Byte. 1981;6:90–147.
259. Tesler LG. Programming languages. Sci Am. 1984;251:70–8.
260. The Economist. Tanks in the cloud. The Economist. December 29, 2010 (print ver-
sion). Available at http://www.economist.com/node/17797794. Accessed August 9, 2015.
261. Titus JA. The impact of microcomputers on automated instrumentation in medicine. Advance
in hardware and integrated circuits. Proc SCAMC. 1977;99–100.
262. Tolchin SG, Barta W. Local network and distributed processing issues in the Johns Hopkins
Hospital. J Med Syst. 1986;10:339–53.
263. Tolchin SG, Arsenlev M, Barta WL, Kuzmak PM, Bergan E, et al. Integrating heterogeneous
systems using local network technologies and remote procedure call protocols. Proc SCAMC.
1985;748–9.
72 M.F. Collen and C.A. Kulikowski
264. Toole BA. Ada, the enchantress of numbers. Mill Valley: Strawberry Press; 1992.
265. Toong HD, Gupta A. Personal computers. Sci Am. 1982;247:86–107.
266. Tropp HS. The 20th anniversary meeting of the association for computing machinery: 30
August 1967. Ann Hist Comput. 1987;9:249–70.
267. Valenta AL, Wigger U. Q-methodology: definition and application in health care informatics.
JAMIA. 1997;4:501–10.
268. Van Orange C, Schindler R, Valeri L. Study on the requirements and options for radio fre-
quency identification (RFID) applications in health care. RAND Europe Rep. 2009;1–131.
269. VanName M, Catchings B. SQL-a database language sequel to Dbase. Byte.
1989;14:175–82.
270. Venkataramanan M. The database of databases. Pop Sci. 2011;279:56.
271. Verity J. The shifting shape of SNA. Datamation. 1985;93–112.
272. Walters RF. File structures for database management systems. MD Comput. 1987;5:30–41.
273. Walters RF. Developments and implementation of microcomputer MUMPS systems. J Med
Syst. 1983;7:457–68.
274. Walters RF. Development of a micro MUMPS users group for the exchange of clinical appli-
cations. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1393–8.
275. Walters RF, Bowie J, Wilcox JC, Dayhoff RE, Reynolds SW. MUMPS primer, revised: an
introduction to the interactive programming system of the future. MUMPS Users’ Group;
1983.
276. Warner HR. Data sources. In: Warner HR, editor. Computer-assisted medical decision-
making. New York: Academic Press; 1979. p. 6–101.
277. Wasserman AI. Software development methodologies and the user software engineering
methodology. Proc SCAMC. 1982;891–3.
278. Weinberger D. Data, data everywhere. A special report on managing information. The
Economist. 2010;3–19.
279. Weiner JL. The logical record keeper-prolog on the IBM. BYTE. 1984;9:125.
280. Wiederhold G. Databases, IEE computer, centennial issue. 1984; 17:211–23.
281. Wiederhold G. Databases for health care. In: Lindberg DA, Reichertz PL, editors. Lecture
notes in medical informatics. New York: Springer; 1981. p. 1–75.
282. Wiederhold G. Modeling databases. Inf Sci. 1983;29:115–26.
283. Wiederhold G. Databases for ambulatory care. Proc AMIA Symp. 1982;79–85.
284. Wiederhold G, Walker MG, Blum RL. Acquisition of medical knowledge from medical
records. Proc Benutzer-gruppenseminar Med Syst. 1987;213–4.
285. Wiederhold G. Database technology in health care. J Med Syst. 1981;5:175–96.
286. Wiersema M, McDonald CJ. Low-priced microcomputer voice-input boards. MD Comput.
1985;3:16–22.
287. Willard OT. Barcodes in a medical office computer system. Proc SCAMC. 1985;72–6.
288. Williams BT, Johnson R. Graphic displays. In: Williams BT, editor. Computer aids to clinical
decisions, vol. II. Boca Raton: CRC Press; 1982. p. 170–8.
289. Williams BT, Foote CF, Galassie C, Schaeffer RC. Augmented physician interactive medical
record. Proc MEDINFO. 1989;89:779–83.
290. Williams BT, Johnson RL, Chen TT. PLATO-based medical information system. Proc 1st
Illinois conf medical information systems. Urbana, IL 1974;145–9.
291. Williams BT, Chen TT, Johnson R, Schultz DF. A terminal-orientated clinical record system.
Biomed Comput. 1976;311–21.
292. Williams BT, Chen TT, Elston J, et al. The ariable phrase keyboard and the clinical report. In:
Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami, FL: Symposia
Specialists Medical Books; 1977:127–34.
293. Williams BT, Chen TT, Schultz DF, Moll JD, Flood JR, Elston J. PLATO-based medical
information system: variable keyboards. Proc 2nd Conf Med Inf Syst. 1975;56–61.
294. Williams BT. Computer aids to clinical decisions. Boca Raton, FL: CRC Press; 1982.
295. Williams G. A closer look at the IBM personal computer. Byte. 1982;7:36–66.
296. Williams M. Superfast wireless gigabit spec published. PC World. 2010;28:18.
1 The Development of Digital Computers 73
297. Wingfield N. After iPhone sales bonanza in China, Apple’s profit nearly doubles. New York
Times. 2012;B1–2.
298. Wolpin S. The wild, wonderful, and wacky world of cell phones. Invent Technol.
2010;25:50–6.
299. Wolpin S, Winter I. Social networking. Invent Technol. 2010;25:52.
300. Wolverton T. Hoping Apple proves me wrong with iPad 3. Bay Area News Group. 2012.
301. Womble ME, Wilson SD, Keiser HN, Tworek ML. An intelligent terminal for access to a
medical database. Proc SCAMC. 1978;517–23.
302. Wortham J, Wingfield N. Latest PC systems mimic mobile OS. Bay Area News Group. 2012;
D2.
303. Zelingher J. Exploring the internet. MD Comput. 1995;12:100–8. 144.
304. Zuboff S. In the age of the smart machine: the future of work and power. New York: Basic;
1988.
Chapter 2
The Creation of a New Discipline
The earliest references in the scientific literature regarding the application of elec-
tronic digital computers to medicine appeared in bioengineering publications in the
late 1950s. At that time the term bioengineering included all aspects of biology,
engineering, and technology. A variety of names for this new discipline appeared
over the next two decades, including generic terms, such as electronic data process-
ing (EDP) or automatic data processing (ADP), and more medicine-specific names,
such as medical computing, medical computer science, computer medicine, medical
information processing, medical information science, medical software engineer-
ing, medical computer technology, and others. These terms were often used inter-
changeably – for example, medical information science with medical computer
science – as though what was processed (information) and how it was processed (by
computer) were similarly descriptive. In the early 1970s it became clear that there
was a need to agree on a name for this new domain. To agree on the terms medicine
and medical was not particularly controversial at the time, since any standard dic-
tionary defined these terms as relating to or concerned with the research, teaching,
and the practice of preventing, diagnosing, and treating diseases. However, over the
years some professionals made it clear that they preferred the adjective health to
medical, arguing that the discipline was as much about preserving health and pre-
venting disease as it was about treating illness [31]. Harrison [77] observed that
there was no single term in the English language to encompass the broad domain of
knowledge that included computers, information, hardware, and software as applied
in the fields of science, engineering, and technology, and he predicted that this
knowledge domain would become a resource of unprecedented value.
Garfield [71] at the Institute for Scientific Information credited Mikhailov, at the
Scientific Information Department of the Moscow State University, with first using
for this purpose the Russian terms informatik and informatikii. The Russians had
generally used the terms informatsii or informatsiya to mean information. Mikhailov
used the term in his books entitled Oznovy Informatiki (Foundations of Informatics)
and Nauchnye Kummunikatsii ilnformatika (Scientific Communications and
Informatics), published in Russian in 1968 and 1976 respectively. In the second
book, translated into English in 1984, he defined informatics as the scientific
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 77
discipline that studied the structure and general properties of scientific information
and the laws of all processes of scientific communication [125]. A search through
DIALOG’s MIA International Bibliography found that the term informatics first
appeared in 1975 in the title of a Russian book as informatika [39]. The Supplement
to the Oxford English Dictionary (1976) also credited the origin of the Anglicized
word informatics to a translation from the Russian informatika and defined infor-
matics as the discipline of science which investigates the structure and properties
(not in a specific context) of scientific information, as well as the regularities of
scientific information activity, its theory, history, methodology and organization. By
1987 the Random House Dictionary (1987) defined informatics as the study of
information processing and computer science, also agreeing that the word informat-
ics was a translation of the Russian informatika from the 1960s. It became clear that
the English term informatics solved the need for a term to encompass the science,
engineering, and technology for this new field, and it freed the field from all prior,
more limited names and notions.
During the late 1960s, the French literature also used the terms informatique de
medecine, or informatique medicale. University departments with these titles were
established in the 1960s in France, Holland, and Belgium. In 1966 the term applica-
tions de l’informatique a la medicine was used in teaching a course by Pages and
Grémy at Pitie Saltpetriere. In 1968 the Association pour les Applications de
l’Informatique a la Medecine was created by Brouet et al. [54]. Harrap’s New
Standard French and English Dictionary (1979) defined the French term informa-
tique as information processing and data processing and informatique medicale as
medical computing. A search of the National Library of Medicine’s MEDLINE
found that articles in the French literature had first used the word informatique in
1968 [137]. Moehr [128] reported that, in Germany, computer science was called
informatik from its very beginning in the 1960s. The German Society for Computer
Science, Gesselshaft fur Informatik was founded in 1969. Peter Reichertz’ division
at the Hannover Medical School was called Medizinische Informatik from its begin-
ning in 1969. In the 1970s the German literature also used the term medizinische
informatik [185]. A 1975 article in the Polish literature referred to informatyki
medycznej [34]. MEDLINE also cites the first article in Serbo-Croatian literature
that used the term medicinske informatike [57].
Informatics, the English term, began to appear in the literature in the 1970s. An
article in the French literature written in 1970 was translated into English as Study
of an Informatic System Applied to the Public Health Services [78]. In 1970, the
Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), of which the
United States was a member, considered trends and policy issues in computer-based
databases and published in English OECD Informatics Studies [180]. The next arti-
cle found that used the word informatics was published in 1972 in the Polish litera-
ture (in English) and was entitled Informatics in Health Service [106]. The
combination of the terms, medical and informatics, first appeared in 1974 in three
publications. Two were by Anderson, Pages, and Grémy, first, a book they edited
that was published by the International Federation for Information Processing
(IFIP) entitled Medical Informatics Monograph Series, Volume 1, Education in
78 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
again met in order to consider further this new discipline [135]. Shortliffe [166] also
emphasized that medical informatics included more than the applications of com-
puters to medicine, since some in this field studied medical computing as a basic
science subject (focused on methodology, technique, and theory development)
rather than as a medical tool. At that conference, Shortliffe gave examples of studies
in artificial intelligence that advanced medical information science yet would
require extensive additional work for practical clinical application. The importance
of computer communications was also emphasized at the conference by van Bemmel
[187], who noted that medical informatics comprised the theoretical and practical
aspects of information processing and communication, based on knowledge and
experience derived from processes in medicine and health care. Reichertz [144],
Moehr [128], and Haux [80] also offered definitions of medical informatics that
emphasized dealing with the systematic processing of medical information, the use
of appropriate methods and tools in information processing systems, and the study
of medical information science. Blois [26] used the term medical information sci-
ence to study and advance the theory and concept of medical information itself; and
emphasized that the term, informatics, was broader than was the term information
science, stressing that informatics included information engineering and technol-
ogy. Blois [25] later drew further attention to the important distinction between
information (the commodity with which thinking, analyzing, and decision making
deal) and the computer (the tool for use in processing the commodity).
In 1985 the American Standards for Testing and Materials (ASTM), which had
served as a catalyst in the United States for developing and publishing voluntary
consensus-based standards for a variety of products and systems including computer-
based systems, established a Subcommittee on Medical Informatics, with Gabrieli
[68] as its chair. By the next year a committee of the Association of American
Medical Colleges (AAMC), chaired by Myers, took the position that medical infor-
matics combined medical science with several technologies and disciplines in the
information and computer sciences, and provided methodologies by which these
could contribute to better use of the medical knowledge base and ultimately to better
medical care. The AAMC group defined medical informatics as a developing body
of knowledge, and a set of techniques, concerning the organization and management
of information in support of medical research, education, and patient care [124].
Greenes and Siegel [75], for the American College of Medical Informatics
(ACMI), and Siegel, for the National Library of Medicine (NLM), reported a 1985
collaborative study undertaken by members of ACMI, assisted by NLM staff, to
attempt to arrive at a definition for the content and scope of the field of medical
informatics and the functions of the professionals in this field. They arrived at these
descriptive summaries:
• Medical informatics may be considered to be composed largely of component
disciplines, and the most important of these are computer science, decision sci-
ence, statistics, library science, epidemiology, and the basic medical sciences;
• Medical informatics draws on those fields that are primarily viewed as basic
sciences, including linguistics, mathematics, electrical engineering, and
psychology;
80 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
that the term medical, in medical informatics, did not just mean physicians but
included all personnel in the health care arena. Bernstam et al. [22] defined medical
informatics as the application of the science of information as data plus meaning to
problems of biomedical interest.
Thus, the term medical informatics was broadened in its definition over the years
to include not only the device (the computer), and what the device processed (infor-
mation), but also all applications to medical science, medical research and develop-
ment, medical education, and medical practice including such functions as clinical
decision support [108]. In the 1980s and later, some also began to use the terms:
clinical informatics [90], health informatics [127], nursing informatics [18], dental
informatics [48] and also imaging informatics, public health informatics, and oth-
ers. In academic settings, the first to be termed a Department of Medical Informatics
in the United States was established at the University of Utah by Warner, who
became the first Professor of Medical Informatics. The unit had started in the 1960s
as a Department of Medical Biophysics but evolved over time and was the first to
adopt the medical informatics terminology. The first Department of Computer
Medicine had earlier been established at the Tulane University by Sweeney, who
became the first Professor of Computer Medicine. The first Division of Clinical
Informatics was established at the Harvard Medical School and its affiliates by
Bleich and Slack, and was later formalized and led by Safran [154]. Shortliffe
started a graduate degree program in medical information sciences at Stanford
University in 1982, but within a few years had dubbed the academic unit that offered
the degrees the Section on Medical Informatics.
With the growth of informatics methods applied to basic life sciences, and espe-
cially to the human genome project during the 1990s, a new term emerged that has
been widely adopted: bioinformatics. Recognizing that the methods and issues in
bioinformatics were very similar to those in medical informatics, the community
sought to devise unifying terminology that would encourage the biological and
clinical informatics communities to coexist, to share methods, and to tackle transla-
tional problems between the genetic and patient-care research environments.
Academic units, in particular, began to adopt the term biomedical informatics by the
turn of the new century, often including both bioinformatics and clinical informatics
faculty and graduate students who worked either on biological, clinical, or
translational problems. This inclusive term was gradually embraced and is increas-
ingly accepted as the name for the field, supplanting medical informatics in many
cases. With this change, the medical informatics term has come to be reserved by
many in the field for disease- and physician-oriented informatics activities, with
biomedical informatics referring to the broad basic discipline [97].
In 2012, the American Medical Informatics Association (AMIA) published a
white paper in which they laid out the core competencies for graduate education in
the field of biomedical informatics and offered the following definition: the interdis-
ciplinary field that studies and pursues the effective uses of biomedical data, infor-
mation, and knowledge for scientific inquiry, problem solving, and decision making,
motivated by efforts to improve human health [97]. Although this new term for the
field has gained increasing acceptance, in this volume we continue to use the
82 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
long-established term medical informatics. Readers may wish to note, however, that
the terminology and definitions are continuing to evolve, as they have throughout
the history of the discipline.
The beginning in the United State of what was to become known as medical infor-
matics was attributed by Lindberg [108] to the initiation in 1879 of the Index
Medicus by Billings. That same year Hollerith went to work for the U. S. Census
Bureau, where Billings advised him to develop a method to use punch cards to
count the census data. Major roles in the subsequent dissemination and the integra-
tion of this new field were played by biomedical publications; by professional bio-
engineering, medical, and nursing organizations; by commercial organizations; by
federal agencies; and by academia. Some of those activities are summarized here.
As has been mentioned, Index Medicus was initiated by Billings in 1879, providing
a bibliographic listing of references to current articles in the world’s biomedical
journals. A major contribution to medical informatics occurred when the National
Library of Medicine (NLM) began to convert the Index Medicus to computer-based
form with the printing of its 1964 edition, thereby implementing the first version of
the Medical Literature Analysis and Retrieval System (MEDLARS). MEDLINE,
the online version of MEDLARS, which supported search capabilities, was initiated
in 1971.
Vallbona et al. [186] reported that an analysis of the Index Medicus regarding the
number of papers on the subject of computers in medicine showed only 38 papers
in 1960, 137 in 1961, 168 in 1962, 202 in 1963; and then an average of about 350
papers each year from 1964 to 1968. A search conducted in January 1986 by
Parascandola at the NLM retrieved 2,506 MEDLINE citation titles between 1966
and 1984 using medic or health with comput (excluding articles in foreign lan-
guages). This study showed that on average only 35 new citations were added each
year from 1966 to 1974. However, in 1975 the annual count of new citations abruptly
increased, averaging 135 from 1975 to 1979; and then averaging 250 each year from
1980 to 1984 [136]. A similar search for these three words appearing anywhere in
any journal article would have found perhaps several times as many articles and
would have been more comparable to Vallbona’s statistics. A later analysis by the
NLM Technical Services Division yielded a total of 5,850 citations regarding the
total of all articles in the general field of medical informatics in the published arti-
cles or proceedings for: (1) MEDINFO 1983, (2) Association for Medical Systems
and Informatics (AAMSI) Congress 1984, (3) Symposium on Computer Applications
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 83
Dental Informatics Section. In 2009 the National Institute of Dental and Craniofacial
Research (NIDCR) announced its initiation of a training program in the discipline
of dental informatics [159].
In such a rapidly evolving discipline, where substantive advances often occurred
within a single year, publications in traditional medical journals were often out-of-
date, and books often described informatics technology that was already obsolete by
the time the books were published. Accordingly, the timeliest articles on computer
applications in medicine were often found in proceedings and transactions of meet-
ings sponsored by professional and commercial organizations. The Proceedings of
the Symposium on Computer Applications in Medical Care (SCAMC), published
annually since 1977 (known as the Proceedings of the AMIA Annual Symposium
since 1990), have been among the most comprehensive US resources for medical
informatics research. (For a listing of these proceedings, see the appendices at the
back of this volume.) A perusal of the first decade of annual SCAMC proceedings
showed that these early issues addressed mostly computer hardware and software
problems. In the second decade the preponderance of articles was related to data-
base and to clinical decision-support applications. A similar analysis of the
MEDINFO proceedings in 1983 and in 1986 [188] revealed that 17 % of the articles
published in both years were related to computer hardware, software, and commu-
nications. Articles on medical information systems and databases decreased from
39 % in 1983 to 19 % in 1986. Those on processing clinical data from the clinical
laboratory, radiology, and electrocardiography decreased from 36 % in 1983 to
10 % in 1986. Articles on computers used in therapy increased slightly from 3 % in
1983 to 5 % in 1986. Papers on medical research and education also increased
slightly from 9 % in 1983 to 11 % in 1986. Articles on medical decision making
increased the most, from 13 % in 1983 to 23 % in 1986. In the 1990s and 2000s,
articles increasingly dealt with clinical decision support, clinical subsystems, clini-
cal research and education, and Internet-supported translational databases.
Useful collections of articles for the first decade of computer applications to
medical practice were also found in the July 31, 1964, issue of the Annals of the
New York Academy of Sciences, entitled Computers in Medicine and Biology, and
also in the Journal of Chronic Disease, Volume 19, 1966. The Journal of the
American Hospital Association devoted its entire issue of January 1, 1964, to
Automatic Data Processing in Hospitals. Several bibliographies of citations on vari-
ous aspects of medical computing, some with annotations, were published in the
1950s and 1960s. The first extensive Bibliography on Medical Electronics was pub-
lished in 1958 by the Professional Group in Bio-Medical Electronics of the Institute
of Radio Engineers. This was followed in 1959 by Supplement I. In 1962, Knutson,
at Remington Rand Univac in St. Paul, Minnesota, compiled and published an anno-
tated Bibliography of Computer Applications in Bio-Medical Research. In 1963,
Empey, at System Development Corporation in Santa Monica, California, compiled
for the Association for Computing Machinery (ACM) SIGBIO Newsletter No. 1,
Computer Applications in Medicine and the Biological Sciences Bibliography, and
in 1967 ACM published in Computing Reviews a Comprehensive Bibliography of
Computing Literature. In 1968 Robertson began to publish a series of Computers in
86 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
A variety of organizations in the United States had significant roles in the diffusion
and integration of informatics into medicine, including bioengineering organiza-
tions that applied informatics techniques to medical, nursing, and related health
care problems; commercial organizations; federal agencies; and academic
organizations.
The earliest reports on biomedical applications of computers began to appear at
conferences sponsored by professional bioengineering societies. Many of the earli-
est computer applications involved the processing of clinical laboratory data, analog
signals (such as electrocardiograms), and images (such as photographs and x-ray
images). In 1947 the first Annual Conference on Engineering in Medicine was held,
and in 1948 a group of bioengineers with interests in medical equipment held the
First Annual Conference on Medical Electronics in New York City.
In 1947 the Association for Computing Machinery (ACM) was formed, and
ACM established its Special Interest Groups (SIGs) in 1960 [146]. One of these was
SIGBIO, in which the acronym BIO originally represented biomedical information
processing. In 1966 ACM SIGBIO reorganized into the Society for Biomedical
Computing, elected Barnett as its first president, and provided a forum in the early
1970s for presentations and proceedings articles on biomedical computing.
Although SIGBIO and the Society for Biomedical Computing later became inactive
for several decades, in 2010 ACM SIGBioinformatics was instituted with the aim of
advancing computational biology and biomedical informatics, and to bridge com-
puter science, mathematics, and statistics with biomedicine.
In 1951 the Professional Group in Bio-Medical Electronics (PGBME) of the
Institute of Radio Engineers (IRE) was organized – the largest professional
organization concerned with the broad area of biomedical technology and the engi-
neering and physical sciences in the 1950s [160]. PGBME held a symposium on the
applications of computers in biology and medicine at the annual IRE convention in
1957. It subsequently sponsored the Annual Conferences in Bio-Medical Electronics
and published the IRE Transactions on Medical Electronics which, in the 1950s,
was the main forum for papers on biomedical computing [118]. A 1955 review of
the progress in medical electronics gave credit to the American Institute of Electrical
Engineers (AIEE), later to become the Institute for Electrical and Electronic
Engineers (IEEE), for sponsoring some of the earliest meetings on this subject
[116].
The Rockefeller Institute sponsored a Conference on Diagnostic Data Processing
in 1959 that was organized by Zvorykin and Berkley, and the proceedings of this
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 87
Many of the conferences and organizations mentioned in this chapter have been
phased out, replaced, or renamed over time. Such is the nature of science and engi-
neering, especially given the rapid evolution that we have witnessed in the last half-
century. Today both the ACM and IEEE, which are now very large and strong
organizations, have a significant presence with meetings and publications related to
medical informatics topics. Some are jointly sponsored with organizations from the
professional informatics community, and many medical informatics experts are
active in ACM and/or IEEE as well as in AMIA and other informatics groups.
The publications cited above document that the earliest computer applications in
any field of medicine were in medical research, medical education, and medical
literature retrieval. Cardiologists and surgeons soon began to use computers for the
monitoring of patients in intensive and coronary care units. Some of the earliest
work in signal analysis was for the automated interpretation of electrocardiograms.
Computers were soon used in automated clinical laboratory and multiphasic health
testing systems, and were employed early in radiology and in pharmacy systems. In
the 1960s some of the clinical specialties began to explore the use of computers for
the processing of patient care information for outpatients in medical offices and for
inpatients cared for in hospitals.
In the 1950s the American Hospital Association (AHA) and the Hospital
Management Systems Society (HMSS) began to conduct conferences to acquaint
hospital administrators with the potential of evolving hospital information systems
(HISs). In 1961 HMSS became the Healthcare Information and Management
Systems Society (HIMSS); in 1966 it affiliated with the American Hospital
Association (AHA). However, about 25 years later in 1993, HIMSS separated from
AHA and became an independent organization with its mission to lead healthcare
transformation through the effective use of health information technology. In the
2000s HIMSS represented more than 38,000 individual members, more than 540
corporate members, and more than 120 not-for-profit organizations. It continues to
conduct frequent national conventions and trade shows (typically drawing between
30,000 and 40,000 attendees) and distributes publications [83, 84].
By the late 1960s many large medical professional organizations had formed
special committees and had sponsored conferences on computer applications related
to their special medical interests. In April 1966 the American Medical Association
(AMA) held a conference in Chicago on The Computer and the Medical Record,
chaired by Yoder of Tulane University. In 1969 the AMA formed a Committee on
the Computer in Medicine that was chaired by Parrott; this committee held its initial
Conference on Computer Assistance in Medicine on November 20, 1969, in
Washington, DC. In 1972 the AMA undertook a major activity regarding computer
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 89
informatics appeared in the title of the proceedings of this congress but in only one
paper, written by the MEDINFO proceedings editor, Anderson (1974) and
associates.
MEDINFO 77, the Second World Conference on Medical Informatics, was held
in Toronto in August 1977 and was again organized by IFIP’s TC-4 (later to be
known as IMIA). Schneider from Sweden was the program committee chair and the
proceedings were edited by Shires and Wolf. MEDINFO 77 contained 199 papers,
of which 53 were from the United States, and of these 15 dealt with medical infor-
mation systems or medical records whereas 6 were on computer-aided clinical deci-
sion support.
MEDINFO 80, the Third World Conference on Medical Informatics, was spon-
sored by the newly named IMIA and was held in Tokyo; it was the first MEDINFO
to have a significant US involvement. Collen from California was the program chair
and the proceedings were edited by Lindberg (Missouri) and Kaihara (Tokyo).
MEDINFO 80 contained 276 full papers, of which 51 (18 %) were from the United
States, and of these 51 were on medical information systems; 6 were on diagnosis,
decision support, or artificial intelligence. Still, in 1980, only four articles in these
proceedings contained the term informatics, indicating that the new term for the
field was slow to be widely embraced.
MEDINFO 83: the Fourth World Conference on Medical Informatics was held in
Amsterdam. The program chair was Lodwick (Minnesota) and the proceedings
were edited by van Bemmel (Netherlands), Ball (Pennsylvania), and Wigertz
(Sweden). The MEDINFO 83 proceedings contained 318 full papers, of which 68
(11 %) were from the United States; of these 68 papers, 19 were on medical infor-
mation systems and subsystems, 19 were on decision support and artificial intelli-
gence, and 10 papers were on imaging. By this time the term informatics appeared
in nine papers.
The next MEDINFO was the first to be held in the United States. MEDINFO 86:
the Fifth World Conference on Medical Informatics took place in Washington, DC,
in October 1986. Lindberg (NLM) was the organizing committee chair, van Bemmel
(Netherlands) was the program committee chair, and Salamon (France) edited the
proceedings. The widespread interest and support for medical informatics in the
United States at that time was clearly evident by the relative ease with which
Lindberg obtained the capital funding necessary to finance a MEDINFO. He formed
a US Council for MEDINFO 86, which consisted of 12 US professional medical
societies including the American Medical Association, American Society of Clinical
Pathologists, and American Radiological Society; bioengineering societies (IEEE,
ACM); and also medical informatics organizations (AAMSI, SCAMC). Each of
these organizations provided a substantial loan which furnished the initial working
capital; in addition, several donations and grants were received, the largest being
from Kaiser Foundation Hospitals.
MEDINFO 89: the Sixth World Conference on Medical Informatics was held in
1989 in two parts: Part One took place as originally planned in November 1989 in
Beijing. Part Two was held in December 1989 in Singapore, for those who could not
or would not go to China following the Beijing Tiananmen Square student massacre
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 91
of June 4, 1989. Manning (California) was the program committee chair for both
parts of MEDINFO 89. By this time, despite the political challenges around the
1989 meeting, MEDINFO had become a successful and highly anticipated event
that rotated to different cities every 3 years, generally adopting a cycle of Europe-
North America-Asia in that order. IMIA member organizations now prepared bids
to host the meeting and the process became quite competitive.
MEDINFO meetings continue until the present day, although they recently
adopted a change to alternate year meetings starting in 2013. Meetings not previ-
ously mentioned include MEDINFO 92 in Geneva, Switzerland; MEDINFO 95 in
Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada; MEDINFO 98 in Seoul, Korea; MEDINFO
2001 in London, UK; MEDINFO 2004 in San Francisco, California, USA;
MEDINFO 2007 in Brisbane, Australia; MEDINFO 2010 in Capetown, South
Africa; MEDINFO 2013 in Copenhagen, Denmark; MEDINFO 2015 in Sao Paulo,
Brazil.
funding for the Massachusetts General Hospital Center program was eliminated,
and legislation for Medicare reimbursement was withdrawn.
In 1974 the IHEA symposium was held in San Francisco, hosted by Kaiser
Permanente (KP). Garfield [72] described his new ambulatory health care delivery
model that provided the rationale behind KP’s AMHT program, and Yasaka reported
on the current status of health evaluation in Japan. In 1980 the IHEA symposium
was held in Tokyo, in conjunction with the 1980 MEDINFO Congress, and joint
meetings were also held with the Japan Society of AMHTS. After the 1984 IHEA
meeting, a formal liaison was developed between the IHEA and the nascent
American Association for Medical Systems and Informatics (AAMSI; see discus-
sion below); the next two IHEA symposia were held in Washington, DC, in con-
junction with MEDINFO in 1986 and with AAMSI in 1987. The 1988 symposium
in Kailua-Kona, Hawaii, had sessions focused on health care workers such as dieti-
cians, nurses, health educators, computer operators, laboratory technicians, x-ray
technicians, and other technical support personnel. In 1988 Hinohara of Japan
became the President of IHEA. In 1990 the Society for Prospective Medicine, an
international organization dedicated to advancing the practice of disease prevention
and health promotion, joined IHEA and the organization’s name was changed to the
International Health Evaluation and Promotion Association (IHEPA) in order to
reflect more accurately the interest of this new larger organization. In 2000 the MJ
group in Taiwan hosted the IHEA/IHEPA annual meeting in Taipei. In 2003, with
the decreased support of multiphasic health testing systems in the United States, the
last meeting in the United States for Region I of the IHEPA was held in Atlanta,
Georgia, chaired by Blankenbaker of the University of Tennessee College of
Medicine, Chattanooga. This meeting was opened with Lindberg, Director of the
National Library of Medicine, as its keynote speaker, and it had presentations
regarding automated multiphasic health testing programs from a variety of coun-
tries. In 2008, with the support of the MJ group in Taiwan, IHEPA’s symposium was
held in Beijing in collaboration with the Chinese Medical Association and the
Chinese Society of Health Management. IHEPA subsequently held meetings in
2010 in Tokyo and in 2011 in Honolulu. In the 2010s, IHEPA Region III continued
to be active in Asia, conducting bi-annual meetings with the support of its president,
Hinohara of Japan, and its secretary, Shambaugh [161, 162] of Hawaii.
In 1967 the first professional organization in the United States with the primary goal
of furthering technology systems in medicine, especially computer-based medical
systems, was the Society for Advanced Medical Systems (SAMS). It held its first
conference in July 1967 in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and in 1968 SAMS was incorpo-
rated in the state of New York. SAMS had emerged from a series of Engineering
Foundation Research Conferences sponsored by the Engineering Foundation of
New York. These conferences were arranged by Devey of the National Academy of
Engineering, originally to support the development of automated multiphasic health
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 93
testing (AMHT) systems. The second conference was held in August 1968 at the
Proctor Academy in Andover, New Hampshire [52]. At this Andover meeting, an
organizational planning committee chaired by Davies from the University of
Tennessee was initiated to form a professional society to focus on the evolving field
of multiphasic health testing (MHT). The new organization, SAMS, cosponsored
the next Engineering Foundation Research Conference which was held in August
1969 at the Deerfield Academy in Deerfield, Massachusetts, and defined this confer-
ence as SAMS’ first annual meeting. Caceres of George Washington University was
elected the first president of SAMS, and Davies the president-elect. On September
30, 1970, with the help of Hsieh of Baltimore’s U.S. Public Health Service Hospital,
SAMS offered a scientific program, and its Proceedings were later published [53].
Although SAMS’ original major focus was multiphasic health testing systems, it
soon expanded its activities to include all medical informatics systems.
Another early US professional organization that was committed primarily to
medical informatics was the Society for Computer Medicine (SCM). On October
14, 1971, the charter meeting of the board of directors of SCM was held in Arlington,
Virginia. SCM’s first president was Jenkin from Lorton, Virginia; Sehnert, from
Arlington, Virginia, was the president-elect. The first national meeting of SCM was
held in Chicago in November 1971. These two organizations, SAMS and SCM,
each had less than 500 members, and each held separate annual meetings in the
1970s. During this period, it became increasingly evident to the members, some of
whom belonged to the boards of both organizations, that there was considerable
duplication of effort for many common objectives. In 1980 during the MEDINFO
80 meeting in Tokyo, Ball from Temple University and then president of SCM,
partnering with Bickel from the Armed Services and then president of SAMS, con-
vened a joint ad hoc meeting of several members of their boards of directors to
discuss their common interests and possible collaboration in future activities. It was
unanimously agreed, in what was called the “Tokyo Accords”, that it was timely to
consider a merger of these two societies [92, 195]. A joint conference was held that
became the 13th annual conference of SAMS with Kaplan as the SAMS conference
co-chair, and the 11th annual conference of SCM with Jelovsek from Duke
University as the SCM conference co-chair. This historic event immediately pre-
ceded the fifth annual Symposium on Computer Applications in Medical Care
(SCAMC), held in November 1981 in Washington, DC (see discussion of SCAMC
and AMIA below). The result of the merger of SAMS and SCM was a new profes-
sional organization with more than 700 members. It was incorporated in August
1981 in the state of Maryland. Although the names Association for Informatics in
Medicine and American Medical Informatics Association had been proposed for
this new organization, some of the SAMS founders wanted to retain the word sys-
tems in its title, so it was called the American Association for Medical Systems and
Informatics (AAMSI). Kaplan was elected the first president of AAMSI for 1982;
and Bauman of Danbury Hospital in Connecticut, became its president-elect [4].
Regional informatics meetings were also introduced during roughly the period
when SAMS and SCM were active during the 1970s. For example, at the same time
that the first MEDINFO was being hosted internationally in 1974, the University of
94 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
Illinois and the Regional Health Resource Center in Urbana, Illinois, with the
support of the Champaign County Medical Society and several other organizations,
initiated the First Illinois Conference on Medical Information Systems. Under the
leadership of Williams, annual Conferences on Medical Information Systems, with
published proceedings, were held in that state through 1980.
Initially in SAMS, and in AAMSI after the merger, Rickli of the University of
Missouri-Columbia chaired an International Affairs Committee. In this role, he
sought to offer a new US representative to IMIA. However, IMIA took the position
that neither AAMSI nor any other US medical informatics organization was of suf-
ficient size to satisfy IMIA’s membership requirements. Accordingly, AFIPS con-
tinued to send a representative to IMIA, who during the early 1980s was Lindberg.
He moved in 1984 from the University of Missouri to become Director of the
National Library of Medicine, a position that he was to hold until 2015, making him
historically the longest termed director of an NIH institute. With the advent of the
American Medical Informatics Association (AMIA), discussed below, the United
States had a single informatics organization that met IMIA’s criteria for representa-
tion. AMIA promptly replaced AFIP as the US member organization for IMIA and
AMIA’s Ball became the U.S. representative to IMIA. Well known and respected in
the international informatics community, in 1989 she became the president-elect of
IMIA, and in 1992 assumed the role as the first American and the first woman presi-
dent of IMIA.
In 1980 Emlet at Analytic Services in Arlington, Virginia, organized a meeting
in Washington, DC, called the U.S. Committee for Computers in Health Care.
Lindberg served as its chair; and he proposed that the group’s name be the American
Medical Informatics Association (AMIA). Lindberg formulated AMIA’s goal to be
to advance the field of medical informatics in the United States and that its organiza-
tion should initially be composed of professional societies that should operate to
facilitate their contributions to the growth of medical informatics [64]. Twenty-
seven groups were represented at this meeting as clear evidence of the need in the
United States for a better organization representing the various interests in medical
informatics. However, since a large federation of varied societies was not an accept-
able organizational model to many of the participants, this committee never met
again. The AMIA name, however, had a certain appeal – inspired in part by its
correspondence to the name of the international organization, IMIA – and its con-
sideration recurred several times in the years that followed, as described below.
The enthusiasm of the MEDINFO 1980 Tokyo meeting resulted in the first con-
ference held in the United States in May 1982 with the words medical informatics
in its title. Organized by Collen in San Francisco, and sponsored by the Kaiser
Foundation Hospitals, this meeting was called the First Congress of the American
Medical Informatics Association (AMIA Congress 82). SCM, SAMS, IHEA, and
others joined Kaiser as co-sponsors. The proceedings of the Congress were edited
by Lindberg, Collen, and Van Brunt. Lindberg [109] noted in the foreword of these
proceedings that, since the AMIA notion had been conceived during the MEDINFO
80 Congress in Tokyo, and due to the outstanding success of the MEDINFO meet-
ings, it was decided to follow the MEDINFO model as much as possible and to
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 95
initiate a similar annual congress in the United States. After holding its first annual
conference in 1982 in Bethesda, MD, AAMSI took over the sponsorship of the
AMIA Congress, renaming it the AAMSI Congress. Given the success and domi-
nance of the SCAMC meetings each autumn in Washington, DC (see the discussion
of SCAMC and AMIA below), AAMSI’s best attended congresses were held on the
West Coast every spring, starting in 1983, although they did also hold smaller East
coast meetings in the autumn. The organization grew during the 1980s to a member-
ship of about 1,000 and it supported a relatively large number of special interest
professional specialty groups (PSGs) for its members interested in various medical
computer systems and applications. AAMSI’s International Affairs Committee
acquired national representatives from many countries, yet, as mentioned, it was not
accepted by IMIA as the official U.S. representative. In addition, AAMSI had con-
tinuing financial difficulties because its informatics conferences were relatively
small and could not compete with the large and highly successful annual SCAMC
conferences.
In 1984, in response to the perceived need by specialists in this new field to achieve
formal professional recognition, the American College for Medical Informatics
(ACMI) was established. Its stated goal was the advancement of medical informat-
ics and the recognition of experts in this field.
The College was initially created using an election process that assured that the
founding fellows would be elected by their peers. In late 1983, five individuals
(Blois, Collen, Lindberg, Piemme, and Shortliffe), seeking to initiate the college by
electing 50 founding members, prepared a ballot of 100 names of leaders in the field
and sent the ballot to all listed individuals. Every person on the list was considered
to be a nominee for fellowship in the College and each one was asked to vote for 50
colleagues from among those on the list to become the founding fellows. In this way
the initial set of 52 fellows was selected (three individuals were tied for the 50th
place). The founding fellows then came together in San Francisco at the AAMSI
meeting in May 1984. They incorporated the College, elected officers, and initiated
a process through which the existing fellows would nominate and elect new
fellows.
Blois, from the University of California in San Francisco (UCSF), was elected its
first president, and Collen, at Oakland Kaiser Permanente (KP), was named
president-elect. Piemme was elected initial Secretary, and he subsequently managed
the corporation until the merger to form AMIA later in the decade. In those early
days, ACMI fellows regularly met at the time of the spring AAMSI and the fall
SCAMC conferences. During the fall, qualified nominees were listed on a mail bal-
lot that was sent to the existing fellows. In the early years, nominees who were
approved by at least half of the voting fellows became new College fellows. The
election process was tweaked from time to time as the organization grew and new
leaders tried to assure both a reasonable size of the college and a rigorous set of
96 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
processes and criteria for the election of new members. By the end of the 1980s the
College had about 100 fellows. The relatively quick acceptance of this new medical
specialty by the medical profession was demonstrated by the election of some
ACMI Fellows to Section I (Physical, Mathematical, and Engineering Sciences) of
the Institute of Medicine (IOM) of the National Academy of Sciences (NAS). Cox
and Collen were elected to the IOM in 1971, Flagle in 1978, Lindberg in 1985,
Shortliffe in 1987, Kulikowski and Warner in 1988, Barnett and Lodwick in 1989,
and others followed in the 1900s and 2000s, with about 50 ACMI Fellows elected
to the IOM over the years.
ACMI continues to the present, although its organizational details have changed
as described in the discussion of AMIA below. International fellows were added in
recent years, and the number of fellows elected from the US and abroad now exceeds
300, with approximately 15–20 new fellows elected each year. Photographs of fel-
lows elected through 1993 were published in the inaugural issue of the Journal of
the American Medical Informatics Association (JAMIA) in January 1994, and pho-
tos and brief biographies of newly elected fellows are now published annually in
JAMIA and made available on the AMIA web site.
The earliest large conference held in the United States that were dedicated entirely
to medical informatics was the annual Symposium for Computer Applications in
Medical Care (SCAMC). The meeting was initiated in 1977 by a group of interested
individuals in the Washington, DC area. Never imagining the success that would
occur, they held the first meeting in a small conference hotel in Arlington, Virginia,
and drew 250 participants, with Orthner of the George Washington University
Medical Center serving as the first program chair. After a second meeting in
Arlington, annual attendance grew rapidly, forcing relocation in each of the next
several years to larger facilities. SCAMC was incorporated in 1979, and the SCAMC
board of directors delegated the organizing responsibilities for the symposia to its
Executive Director, Piemme, under a contract with the Office of Continuing Medical
Education at George Washington University, which Piemme directed. Much of the
growth in the meeting was a result of the professionalism of the GWU organization,
including its nationwide marketing of the meeting. Subsequently, the annual fall
SCAMC was held, usually in Washington, DC, but occasionally in Baltimore,
Maryland, with over 2,000 registrants attending each symposium throughout the
1980s. Each year’s scientific program was directed by a different program chairper-
son selected by the SCAMC board of directors. The SCAMC program chair persons
and the proceedings editors are all listed at the back of this book. The SCAMC
programs were very successful in satisfying the interests of developers and users of
computers for medical applications. During the 1980s the SCAMC proceedings,
then published by the IEEE, were the most efficient resource for reviewing the cur-
rent status of medical informatics’ activities in the United States. The SCAMC
organization, based in Washington, DC, was dedicated entirely to its annual
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 97
symposia and was not a membership society. After the creation of the American
Medical Informatics Association (AMIA) in 1989, AMIA took over the organiza-
tion of the meeting, which became known as the AMIA Annual Symposium.
During 1986 and 1987 it became obvious to all involved that there was consider-
able overlap in the memberships of AAMSI, SCAMC, and ACMI (including among
those sitting on their boards). Complaints arose from members who had to go to
three different boards of directors’ meetings and discuss similar objectives and
problems. Many urged that a merger was worthy of consideration if professionals in
medical informatics were to be appropriately served in this country. A series of
meetings was held during those 2 years, bringing together corporate officers of
AAMSI, SCAMC, and ACMI to try to arrive at an agreement for a merger. Finally,
a joint meeting of 15 representatives of the three professional medical informatics
organizations was held in July 1988 to plan to merge AAMSI, ACMI, and SCAMC
into one organization, at last formally adopting the name that had been proposed in
a variety of settings over the previous decade: the American Medical Informatics
Association (AMIA).
AMIA was incorporated in November 1988 in the District of Columbia; and
Lindberg was elected in 1989 as its first president. Letters of agreement were pre-
pared by Lindberg between AMIA and the three merging organizations to ensure
the perpetuation of the best features of each organization. Stead, the president of
AAMSI, wanted AAMSI members automatically to become AMIA members and
wanted the spring congress, the professional specialty groups, and the some spon-
sored medical informatics journals (included as membership benefits for AAMSI
members) to be continued. Shortliffe, the president of SCAMC, wanted assurance
that the annual fall SCAMC meetings would continue under AMIA’s sponsorship
(co-branded with the SCAMC name for at least 5 years). Warner, the president of
ACMI, required that under AMIA’s sponsorship the election of College fellows, and
their ability to self-govern, would be continued in accordance with the provisions
established by the fellows [7]. It was noted that the earlier use of the name American
Medical Informatics Association and its AMIA Congress 82 had not been incorpo-
rated, nor were the names copyrighted, so that somewhat simplified AMIA’s more
formal birth in 1989.
The purposes of AMIA, as stated in its articles of incorporation, were: to operate
exclusively for charitable and education purposes, and to those ends to promote the
use of computers in medical care (informatics) so as to advance health care; to spon-
sor conferences, workshops and symposia; to sponsor and/or publish journals,
newsletters, and/or books; and to study, advance, and to promote the application of
computers to the science and practice of medicine and the health sciences, to
research and development in medicine, the health sciences, health sciences educa-
tion, and the delivery of health care [6]. AMIA’s board of directors developed plans
in 1989 that included these goals:
• To expand the prior membership of AAMSI to several thousand; to continue the
large annual fall symposia in Washington, DC, that had been conducted so suc-
cessfully by SCAMC; and to extend the spring meetings annually held by
AAMSI on the West Coast, eventually to rotate to additional other regions.
98 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
The term nursing informatics was introduced in 1977 at the first research state-of-
the-art conference on nursing information systems that was held at the University of
Illinois College of Nursing, coordinated by Werley and Grier Saba and Westra
[150]. The nursing schools in the United States had established some courses in
nursing informatics as early as 1978. Saba [151] organized the first national Nursing
Special Interest Group on computer applications in nursing during the SCAMC held
in 1982. In 1988, the University of Maryland at Baltimore initiated a graduate-level
program entitled Nursing Informatics [81]. Saba (2011) and Westra published a
detailed chronological listing of landmark events in nursing informatics from 1970
to 2010 and reported that, in the late 1970s, the National League of Nursing, the
Public Health Service, the US Army Nurse Corps, and several university Schools of
Nursing began to conduct conferences and workshops on computer applications in
nursing. The NIH Clinical Center implemented one of the earliest clinical informa-
tion systems in nursing practice.
100 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
In the 1980s, larger hospital information systems began to develop nursing sub-
systems to document nurses’ notes. Nurses were soon presenting more papers at
informatics conferences and generating more nursing informatics publications. In
1983 the IMIA formed a Nursing Informatics Special Interest Group (IMIA/
NI-SIG). Ball [16] emphasized that integrating computers into the practice of nurs-
ing was a challenge. The American Nurses Association (ANA) formed a Council on
Computer Applications in Nursing (CCAN) and, in 1992, the ANA recognized
nursing informatics as a specialty with a separate scope of practices, developed
standards, and offered a certification examination. In 2004 the Nursing Informatics
Working Group within AMIA initiated a listing of nursing pioneers who had helped
to open a new area in nursing informatics and had provided a sustained contribution
to the specialty. This listing and associated documentation is available from the
National Library of Medicine (NLM) as the Nursing Informatics History Collection
[153].
Ball [17], Skiba et al. [170], DuLong [62], Troseth [181, 182], and colleagues
have all reported that a significant event occurred in 2005 for the nursing profession.
At that time three million nurses made up 55 % of the health care work force in the
nation. The event was a planning meeting, held at the Johns Hopkins University
School of Nursing, to define the mission regarding what became known as
Technology Informatics Guiding Educational Reform (TIGER). In 2006 a summit
conference, co-chaired by Ball and Skiba and held at the Uniformed Services
University of the Health Sciences in Bethesda, Maryland, developed a plan for
TIGER to develop an initiative that would address nursing informatics in all health
care settings, while focusing their efforts on collaborative issues that included stan-
dards and inter-operability, informatics competencies, education and leadership
development, and the personal electronic health record. At the summit, they devel-
oped the notion of “Seven Pillars of the Tiger Vision” that included:
• Management and leadership that empowers and executes the transformation of
health care
• Education toward knowledge development and dissemination for rapid deploy-
ment and dissemination of best practices
• Communication and collaboration of standardized person-centered technology-
enabled processes across the continuum of care
• Informatics design of systems that support education and practice to foster qual-
ity and safety Information technology that is useable and standards-based
• Policy that is consistent, coalition-building, and achieves an ethical culture of
safety
• Culture that leverages technology and informatics across multiple disciplines
towards the goal of high quality and safety of patient care
Leading participants in the support of TIGER included nurse members of AMIA,
HIMSS, and several nursing informatics associations. Ball et al. [17] observed that
in 2010 nursing informatics was no longer an option for nurses, and that the time
had come to leave manual information methods to the past.
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 101
Although most of the research in medical computing in the United States was sup-
ported by federal government grants and contracts, private industry carried out
much of the development of computer applications in medical care. Some outstand-
ing examples were the early development of a hospital information system by
Lockheed and Technicon, the development of computer-based automated blood
chemistry analyzers by Technicon, the development of computer-based electrocar-
diogram systems by Hewlett-Packard and Marquette, and the development of
computer-assisted tomography by several commercial vendors. Hardware vendors
such as IBM and Technicon also helped to advance early research and development
in medical computing by supporting periodic symposia.
The first annual IBM Medical Symposium was held in 1959 in Poughkeepsie,
New York, presenting some of the earliest work on computer applications to medi-
cine. These symposia were arranged by Taylor of IBM; and they continued for 10
years to be highly informative meetings for medical users of IBM computers.
Beginning in 1965 in Ardsley, New York, Technicon’s Whitehead sponsored a
series of annual meetings on computer applications for Technicon equipment used
in the clinical laboratory. McGraw-Hill Publications sponsored the First National
Conference on Electronics in Medicine in 1969 in New York City. Some vendors
directly supported the diffusion of medical informatics by making available sub-
stantial educational discounts for hardware or by contributing computers to support
demonstration projects.
Some special interest groups of users of computer hardware and software were
influential in the diffusion of medical informatics. Although user groups tended to
be somewhat biased, they had an important educational role. User groups generally
had as their objectives keeping the vendor of the hardware and software accountable
to its users, providing input for product enhancement, and helping to write specifi-
cations for new product development [149]. In 1964 health industry users of IBM
computers organized the Electronic Computing Health Oriented (ECHO) organiza-
tion, which from that date held regular semiannual meetings. ECHO achieved a
membership of 2,500 and shared the experiences of more than 1,000 hospitals [42,
87]. The Hospital Information Systems Sharing Group (HISSG) was formed in
1967. It was originally a users’ group of the IBM Medical Information Systems
Program (MISP), but the group became more diversified and expanded its member-
ship and purposes to include any institutions having an interest in hospital informa-
tion systems [184]. By the end of the 1980s a directory was published of 112
hardware and software user groups [51].
One of the most widely used early programming languages for medical applica-
tions, the Massachusetts General Hospital Utility Multi-Programming System
(MUMPS), was developed in 1966. The MUMPS Users’ Group (MUG) was formed
in 1971, began its annual meetings in 1972, and grew to represent one of the largest
groups of medical users of a specific programming language in the United States.
MUG formed special interest groups, such as the MUG Education Committee, to
102 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
Prior to the 1940s, medical research in the United States was supported primarily by
private funding and by philanthropic foundations and endowments [169]. In 1946
the U.S. Congress passed the Hospital Survey and Construction Act, generally
referred to as the Hill-Burton Act, which through the mid-1970s provided tens of
millions of dollars for hospital construction, renovations and replacements. The Act
also laid the groundwork for the introduction of new technologies into hospitals.
After World War II the early development of medical informatics was mainly sup-
ported by federal government grants and contracts. Brazier [29] reported that in
1955 only 25 universities in the United States had installed computers and only a
few scientists were experimenting in their laboratories with prototype models of
non-commercial computer designs. Saenger and Sterling [153] reported that the
Medical Computing Center of the University of Cincinnati College of Medicine had
purchased a Burroughs E 102 computer in 1958, and was the oldest medical com-
puting center located solely within a college of medicine in the United States.
During the 1950s, the National Academy of Sciences (NAS) and the National
Research Council (NRC) sponsored a survey, carried out by a committee chaired by
Ledley, on the use of computers in biology and medicine. They found that a variety
of biomedical research projects already employed computers [103]. In 1959 Senator
Humphrey conducted hearings concluding that the time was appropriate for the
federal government to increase the support of biomedical computing [88]. The
National Institutes of Health (NIH) promptly initiated a two-pronged funding pro-
gram: to support individual research and development projects for the use of com-
puters in medicine, and to establish university-based biomedical computer centers.
Lusted and Coffin [117] wrote that if a birthday were to be chosen for biomedical
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 103
computing, the date of September 20, 1960, would be appropriate, because on that
day the NIH Advisory Committee on Computers in Research was launched.
Shannon, then the Director of NIH created the Advisory Committee with Hemphill
as its Executive Secretary for the first year, followed by Waxman for the next 4
years. Lusted was its first chair person [191]. Lusted had already served since 1955
as a member, and then as the chair person, of the National Research Council
Committee on the Uses of Electronic Computers in Biology and Medicine [118].
This Advisory Committee on Computers was given the basic function of a research
study section to review grant requests dealing primarily with the problems of bio-
medical computing in research [191]. It was this committee that was responsible for
the initial funding of many of the leading academic centers in medical informatics
in the United States; and was instrumental in moving many of the early applications
of computers into medicine. Waxman [190] reported that the members of that com-
mittee shared high enthusiasm for their mission and, in the course of 2 years, they
managed to grant more than $50 million. This work was chronicled in a four-volume
book series entitled Computers in Biomedical Research, published by Academic
Press between 1965 and 1974.
In 1962 Congress authorized an additional $2 million for NIH to make grants for
a limited number of regional biomedical instrumentation centers. Among other cri-
teria established by Director Shannon, these centers were to foster the sciences of
biomathematics and biomedical electronics, with particular emphasis on the appli-
cation of computers to biomedical problems [82]. In 1962 a separately budgeted
Special Resources Branch was established in an independent Division of Research
Resources (DRR) to provide funds for the establishment of computing facilities and
of other widely applicable technological resources [73]. In addition, other NIH
institutes, such as the National Institute of General Medical Sciences, supported
projects involving the automation of research and of clinical laboratories, as well as
the development of computer-aided diagnosis. The National Heart and Lung
Institute supported projects on modeling cardiovascular and respiratory physiology,
and on the automated analysis of the electrocardiogram. In 1966, before a
U.S. Senate subcommittee hearing on health, Caceres [38] of the Medical Systems
Development Laboratory of the Heart Disease Control Program in the NIH National
Center for Chronic Disease Control, demonstrated the automated analysis of the
electrocardiogram by a computer. By 1970 each of the National Institutes was
involved with some development of biomedical computing, most notably the
National Institute of General Medical Sciences, the National Heart and Lung
Institute, and the National Institute of Neurological Diseases and Stroke [73].
In 1964 the NIH Advisory Committee on Computers in Research established the
NIH Computer Research Study Section, with Warner as its chair person and Gee as
its executive secretary, to review requests for NIH grants to support biomedical
computer research. In 1970 the Computer Research Study Section became the
Computer and Biomathematical Sciences Study Section, which was subsequently
terminated in 1977 [110]. Gee [73], writing on the practices and policies of NIH at
the time, stated that, with reference to biomedical computing, it was apparent that
the NIH categorical institute structure was not particularly well suited for the provi-
104 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
sion of support for research tools that could be useful to all varieties of biological
and medical scientists. It was argued that some new means needed to be found if the
development of this important new field were to be encouraged.
Raub [143], the director of NIH’s Life Sciences Computer Resources Program
within the Division of Research Resources (DRR), defined the life sciences com-
puter resources as those computer centers that were dedicated to serving a commu-
nity of biomedical scientists within a given geographical region. In 1963, NIH
initiated its sponsorship of life sciences computer resources and Surgeon General
Terry established a New England regional, multicenter, $2.8 million research
resources program, based at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) and
administered by the NIH Division of Research Facilities and Resources. The institu-
tions that participated in this program included Boston University, Brandeis
University, Brown University, Dartmouth College, Harvard University, Northeastern
University, Tufts University, University of Connecticut, University of Massachusetts,
and the Worcester Foundation for Experimental Biology [179]. By 1966 NIH sup-
ported a total of 48 centers in full operation, and the total annual support provided
was over $8 million [143]. These general computing facilities were expected to
conduct, and to afford opportunities for, research in computer technology in the
biomedical sciences. They were also to make available to investigators in their insti-
tutions not only computer hardware, but also scientific and technical staff, to (1)
assure optimal use of the hardware in the research and development of techniques
and computer programs applicable to substantive research problems; and (2) pro-
vide instruction to both faculty and students in computer usage and programming.
Gee [73] observed that the funding arrangements of these centers not only affected
their economics, but also influenced their operational mode. As demands for com-
puter utilization increased, most of the computing centers supplemented their grants
with income from user fees. Subsequently, as the federal budget available for the
support of computer facilities dwindled, the fee-for-service approach shifted a share
of the financial responsibility to investigator-users of the facilities. These biomedi-
cal research computing centers further supported this development by emphasizing
the importance of collaborative arrangements.
These NIH grants were instrumental in supporting many of earliest biomedical
computing centers. In 1959 the Tulane University Biomedical Computer System
was established, headed by Sweeney, who was (as previously mentioned) the first
professor of computer medicine in the United States [158]. When asked what this
title meant, he would jokingly reply that he treated sick computers [177]. In addition
to providing biomedical statistical services, the Tulane group developed a computer
data processing system for its medical clinic.
In 1959 the University of Michigan began to establish a biomedical data process-
ing research center, equipped with an IBM 704 computer, and initiated a training
program for its schools of medicine and public health with support from the
U.S. Public Health Service and NIH [21]. In 1959, the Health Sciences Computer
Facility at the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA) was established with
NIH support, with Dixon as its director. A primary functional emphasis of UCLA’s
computer facility was in statistics [32]. In 1961 Dixon published his first book on
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 105
the BioMedical Package (BMDP), which was then a unique compilation of statisti-
cal packages to aid biomedical researchers in analyzing their data [60]. The UCLA
center was lauded as a national resource in biomathematics [143]. In the 1960s the
time-sharing UCLA computer facility, with an IBM 360/91 computer and graphics
terminals, provided services to non-UCLA users for projects in genetic linkage,
heart disease, tissue-typing studies, and in schizophrenia. In 1963 more than 100
medical research projects at UCLA were receiving support at the University’s new
Health Sciences Computing Facility – the nation’s largest data processing center for
medical research at the time [61]. In the 1960s and 1970s the computer center also
supported projects in the UCLA School of Medicine and its hospital, notably
Lamson’s work on developing a hospital information system and in processing
clinical-pathology textual data [183].
Warner began to use computers in 1956 for cardiovascular research. He reported
his studies in computer-aided diagnosis in 1961, began to use computers for patient
monitoring in 1969, and in the 1970s was developing the HELP hospital informa-
tion system. Raub [143] praised the life science computer center established at the
University of Utah in Salt Lake City, with Warner as its director, as a computer
center without peer in the breadth and quality of its program in the health care field
at that time. In 1986 Warner established at the University of Utah the first depart-
ment of medical informatics in the United States, and Warner became the country’s
first professor of medical informatics.
In 1961 the Johns Hopkins Medical Computational Facility, supported by an
NIH grant and headed by Shepard, was initiated as an extension of the university-
wide computer center located at its Applied Physics Laboratory, directed by Rich
[164]. It supported the evolution of a comprehensive medical information system at
the Johns Hopkins Hospital. In 1964 the University of Minnesota’s Health Sciences
Center created a research and educational computer center, with Johnson as the
principal investigator who received an NIH Health Computer Sciences Resource
Grant [5]. In 1970 Ackerman was appointed Director of the Division of Health
Computer Sciences and began to support a variety of health computing applications
[28]. In 1964 biomedical computing centers were also operational at New York
University [196] and at the University of Cincinnati College of Medicine [153].
Raub [143] cited the Washington University Computer Laboratories in St. Louis,
Missouri, with Cox as its director, as the most advanced center concerned with the
design and application of minicomputers in the health area. The senior professional
staff of this resource, Clark and Molnar, MIT had designed and developed the LINC
computer while at MIT, with some support from the Washington University
program.
In 1966 Stanford University’s research program, Advanced Computer for
Medical Research (ACME), with Feigenbaum as director, Wiederhold as associate
director, and Lederberg as chairman of its Computer Policy Committee, received a
grant from NIH. With an IBM 360/50 computer, ACME soon supported about 200
medically related projects [49]. Raub [143] described the Stanford University com-
puter resource as a unique time-sharing system, designed and implemented by
resource personnel there; by 1971 it was in routine service to their entire biomedical
community.
106 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
Yet as early as 1968 it was becoming clear that ACME did not have sufficient
capacity to satisfy Feigenbaum and Lederberg’s evolving project called DENDRAL,
which was an approach to formal representation and predication of organic com-
pound structures based on mass spectroscopy data [99]. The Stanford investigators
therefore began to plan for a process to phase out the ACME computer and to
replace it with a machine suitable for symbolic processing calculations. Their idea
was to make the machine available for use by other, similarly minded researchers
who were interested in applying the field of artificial intelligence in biomedicine. To
do this would require a connection to the nascent ARPANET, which the Department
of Defense (DOD) had supported to allow nationwide interconnectivity among
DOD-supported computer research projects. Feigenbaum and Lederberg sought
agreement from the DOD that they would permit an NIH-supported, medically ori-
ented computer system to connect to the ARPANET. There was no precedent for
connecting non-DOD machines, but the case was made, with help from NIH pro-
gram officers. Thus the proposal for a new machine called for a community of medi-
cal AI researchers to share a single machine, using the ARPANET to access the
computer from anywhere in the country. Eventually, in 1973, SUMEX-AIM
(Stanford University Medical EXperimental Computer – Artificial Intelligence in
Medicine) was established as a national resource funded by the Division of Research
Resources [67]. The SUMEX-AIM computer project established criteria for other
investigators to apply to use the machine at Stanford. It was an early demonstration
of computer resource sharing within a national community, and it set a precedent for
allowing non-military computers to connect to the ARPANET – a precedent that
broadened over time until, by the mid-1980s, the ARPANET was managed by the
National Science Foundation under a new name: the Internet. By the 1990s, it was
opened up to commercial use and the government was no longer involved in running
the Internet.
By 1982 the SUMEX-AIM network included computers not only at Stanford,
but also at Rutgers University and the University of Pittsburgh. Computer scientists
from these three universities and from the University of Missouri-Columbia joined
in policy decisions and selection of research projects for computational support
[109]. Funded by NIH’s Biotechnology Resources Program in the Division of
Research Resources, SUMEX supported a long-distance communications network
with a user community comprising approximately 20 research projects. These
spanned a broad range of biomedical application areas, including clinical diagnostic
decision making, molecular structure interpretation and synthesis, cognitive and
psychological modeling, instrument data interpretation, and the generalization of
tools to facilitate building new knowledge-based, artificial intelligence programs.
Early well-known clinical artificial intelligence programs were developed using the
SUMEX-AIM resource, such as MYCIN [197], INTERNIST [126], and CASNET
[194].
The National Institutes of Health (NIH) had their own computer center on its
campus in Bethesda, Maryland, and in 1963 organized a systems programming
group to meet the increasing demands within NIH for computing applications [37].
In 1964 the NIH computer center contained two Honeywell 800 computers [91]. In
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 107
Cancer and Stroke Act of 1965, the Regional Medical Program (RMP) with Marston
as its director. By 1967 there were 54 computer-based regional medical programs
established, including clinical laboratory systems, clinical data collection studies,
multiphasic screening systems, and tumor registries [147].
In 1968 within the Health Services and Mental Health Administration (HSMHA),
the National Center for Health Services Research and Development (NCHSR&D),
the earliest predecessor of what is today known as the Agency for Health Research
and Quality (AHRQ) was organized, with Sanazaro as its director and McCarthy as
its executive secretary. Sanazaro [156] described the purpose of NCHSR&D was to
serve as the Federal focus for health services research and development, and its
programs were directed to developing new methods, or improving existing methods
of organizing, delivering and financing health services. Research and development,
as formulated by NCHSR&D, was the process of identifying, designing, develop-
ing, introducing, testing, and evaluating new methods that met specified perfor-
mance criteria under realistic operating conditions [155]. According to Raub [143],
the differences in objectives and funding practices between NIH and NCHSR&D
were that, whereas the NIH focused on health research and training, HSMHA and
its NCHSR&D was primarily responsible for facilitating the delivery of health ser-
vices, the improvement of hospital facilities, the institution of public health mea-
sures, and the like. As a consequence, whereas NIH tended to emphasize computer
applications in basic research, clinical research, and medical education, NCHSR&D
tended to sponsor computer applications in hospital automation and monitoring the
critically ill.
To review grants for supporting research and development of medical comput-
ing, NCHSR&D established a Health Care Technology Program Advisory Council
chaired by Flagle, and a Health Care Systems Study Section chaired by Collen, with
Hall as its executive secretary. The Health Care Technology Program of the
NCHSR&D was directed by Waxman, and its Medical System Development
Laboratory was led by Caceres. NCHSR&D funded health services research cen-
ters, two of which had health care technology and information systems as their pri-
mary focus. One of these centers was at the Kaiser Foundation Medical Centers in
Oakland and San Francisco and directed by Collen; the other was at the University
of Missouri, Columbia School of Medicine, directed by Lindberg [156]. In addition
to the health services research centers, the NCHSR&D initiated grants and contracts
to fund a variety of information systems in the 1960s and 1970s. The status of its
supported computer-based information systems at the peak of NCHSR&D support
in 1969 and 1970, was summarized in a NCHSR&D report that mentioned some of
the following projects as being operational and providing patient care functions:
medical records projects, hospital information systems, clinical laboratory systems,
x-ray information systems, physiological monitoring systems, pharmacy informa-
tion systems, a multiphasic screening system, and patient interviewing projects. In
its 1970 fiscal year, NCHSR&D’s Health Care Technology Program funded 34
grants and 16 contracts for a total amount of about $6 million. The NCHSR&D
further reported that between 1962 and 1970 more than $31 million was spent on
projects sponsored by the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare (DHEW,
which was later split into the Department of Health and Human Services and the
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 109
Department of Education). All of these involved the use of computers in the deliv-
ery of medical care. The NCHSR&D report concluded that the then available time-
sharing computing technology could not support the many divergent and data-rich
requirements of services that existed in any relatively large hospital; and it predicted
that networking computers could have more potential for the evolvement of a hos-
pital information system than one very large machine [130]. In 1973 the NCHSR&D
terminated its support for the development of medical informatics projects, shorten-
ing its name to the National Center for Health Services Research (NCHSR).
Under the direction of Rosenthal, NCHSR continued to fund research in the dif-
fusion and evaluation of computer applications in health care. NCHSR supported
the development and evaluation of: (1) hospital information systems including the
Lockheed/Technicon MIS at the El Camino Hospital in California, and Weed’s
PROMIS at the University of Vermont [143]; (2) some ambulatory practice infor-
mation systems including Barnett’s COSTAR; (3) some clinical support systems
including Seligson’s YALE and Rappaport’s Youngstown Hospital clinical labora-
tory systems; Lodwick’s MARS radiology information system at the University of
Missouri-Columbia, Baumann’s Massachusetts General Hospital’s radiology infor-
mation systems; Caceres’ and Piperberger’s automated programs for interpreting
electrocardiograms; and (4) automated patient monitoring systems and computer-
based consulting systems including Cohen’s METAPHOR and Shortliffe’s MYCIN
at Stanford University [168], and Warner’s HELP program at the LDS Hospital
[148].
In the 1970s the National Library of Medicine (NLM), which had been estab-
lished in 1956 with authorization to provide a wide range of grant activities within
DHEW, was the main support for training programs to provide the special education
and experience for both pre- and postdoctoral individuals entering this field from
medicine, as well as from computer-related disciplines [112]. In the 1980s the
NLM, especially under its new director, Lindberg (who assumed the leadership role
in 1984), became more active in the support of medical informatics through its
extramural programs. In 1983 NLM initiated an Integrated Academic Information
Management System (IAIMS) program to use computers and communication net-
works to transform a health institution’s various information bases into an inte-
grated system [132]. NLM sponsored a series of IAIMS symposia at which IAIMS
progress reports were presented, including those from Johns Hopkins University,
Harvard University, Baylor College of Medicine, University of Cincinnati,
Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center, Georgetown University, University of
Maryland, and the University of Utah [35, 36, 121, 123, 133, 134]. NLM also initi-
ated a Unified Medical Language System (UMLS) project to facilitate access to
machine-readable information located in a variety of sources, including the scien-
tific literature, factual databanks, knowledge-based expert systems, and computer-
based patient records. UMLS brought together a number of participants to compile
a database of biomedical terms that appeared in several different controlled vocabu-
laries and classifications to form a metathesaurus that would establish relationships
among terms from these different source vocabularies [89]. By 1989 approximately
10 % of NLM’s budget was directly in support of medical informatics [131]. The
NLM Medical Informatics Course, initiated in the 1980s and later renamed the
110 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
By the 1980s the increasing expenditures for health care became a great national
concern, and efforts to control the costs of care became a matter of high priority. In
1983 the Health Care Financing Agency (HCFA), today known as the Centers for
Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS), instituted for hospital patients a scheme of
fixed Medicare payments by 468 diagnosis-related groups (DRGs) based on
International Classification of Diseases (ICD) codes. In each hospital in the United
States that accepted Medicare patients, this produced a rapid and often a major
change in its hospital computer system, to allow collecting the data necessary to
satisfy Medicare billing requirements. Since Medicare accounted for about 40 % of
all hospital beds in use in the United States, it became clear in the 1980s that HCFA
could be a powerful force in the diffusion of hospital information systems in this
country. By the end of the 1980s, HCFA began to consider similarly requiring phy-
sicians to provide, in their claims for payments, the codes for the diagnoses of
Medicare office patients, and the agency also explored the electronic processing and
payments of claims. The Health Maintenance Organization (HMO) Act of 1973,
loosely based on the Kaiser Permanente medical care program, led to a rapid
increase in the number of prepaid group practice programs in the country. The rising
costs of medical care, as well as the increased competition among medical organiza-
tions in the 1980s, produced a trend to the industrialization of medical care and the
formation of medical conglomerates. This provided the stimulus for multi-facility
medical information systems. The medical industry had become one of the largest
in the United States. A 1988 Market Directory of Computers in Healthcare listed
750 vendors of medical computer systems, applications, and supplies [40]. In 1989
a compendium in the journal MD Computing listed almost 400 manufacturers or
vendors selling more than 1,000 different medical computing products; most were
designed for personal computers, and only about one-third were intended for clini-
cal purposes [86].
Medical informatics gradually evolved over as health professionals learned to
exploit the extraordinary capabilities of the electronic digital computer to meet their
complex information needs. The first applications and articles on this subject
appeared in the 1950s, and the number of publications rapidly increased in each of
the following three decades. Medical informatics was identified as a new discipline
in the 1970s, and it came to represent the broad field of computers, communica-
tions, information science, engineering, and technology as applied to medical prac-
tice, research, and education. Since its birth, medical informatics has gradually
diffused throughout the United States (and globally), led by a few pioneers in the
new field, supported by a relatively small number of professional organizations and
universities, funded by federal grants and contracts, and pressured by the financing
needs of increasingly expensive medical care. Blum [27] categorized the 1950s as
phase 0, when most computer-based biomedical applications were for processing
signals, images, and laboratory tests; and called the 1960s phase 1, when computers
began to find some applications to patient care. Blum considered phase 2 to begin in
1975 when medical informatics began to mature, with more applications to clinical
information systems and clinical decision support [27].
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 113
Compared to the acceptance of the automobile for transportation and the tele-
phone for communication, the acceptance of computers in medicine has been rela-
tively slow. By the 1950s automobiles and telephones were among the day-to-day
tools of physicians. Starr [172] credited the telephone and the automobile with the
greatest improvements in the productivity of medical practitioners. According to
Starr, physicians were among the first to use the telephone in the late 1870s to con-
nect their offices with local drug stores for ordering patients’ prescriptions and to
communicate with patients requesting house calls. Ford put out the first Model T
automobile in 1908, and a Chicago dentist is said to have purchased the first Model
A Ford on the market in 1927 [98]. In the early 1900s, the Journal of the American
Medical Association reported that automobiles were already generally accepted by
medical professionals as their usual mode of travel; they enabled doctors to cut in
half the time required for house calls. In addition, they made it easier for patients to
visit physicians in the doctor’s offices [94]. Clearly, the automobile and the tele-
phone quickly and dramatically affected the way the medical profession provided
patient care. The automobile was much more efficient than the horse in transporting
the busy physician to his home, office, and hospital. The telephone was more effi-
cient than was the postal mail in getting urgent messages to and from the physician.
As we have mentioned, Hollerith was working on punched cards for the 1880 cen-
sus at roughly the same time that Bell was beginning to market the telephone. The
great automobile race was held in 1895 from Paris to Bordeaux and back. But it
became evident in the latter half of the twentieth century that physicians were much
slower to adopt the computer than they had been with either the telephone or the
automobile.
Although the personal computer began to diffuse rapidly into doctors’ offices in
the decade of the 1980s, by the end of the 1980s the computer was not yet a day-to-
day tool of physicians. It did not significantly affect patient care services or alter
visibly the quality or costs of medical care. Given the need to finance increasingly
expensive medical care, one could have expected that the potential of the computer
to increase the performance of health care professionals, to increase the quality of
medical care, and to decrease the costs of care would stimulate a more rapid diffu-
sion of medical informatics for patient care in the remainder of the 1990s. In the
2000s the federal government began to support the diffusion of electronic medical
records and the expansion of translational medical information systems, in part to
accelerate the use of a technology that many had viewed as important and inevitable
for over a decade [59, 58].
References
3. AAMC. Association of American Medical Colleges. 1985. Annual report 1984–1985. 2015.
4. AAMSI News. 1982; 1.
5. Ackerman E, Gatewood LC, Connelly D, Hamann R. Distributed capacity networks for clini-
cal information processing. Biosci Commun. 1976;2:293–305.
6. AMIA. Articles of incorporation, article 3. Washington, DC: American Medical Informatics
Association; 1988.
7. AMIA. Minutes of incorporator’s meeting, attachments 2, 3, 4. Wahington, DC: AMIA;
1988.
8. Anderson J. Personal communications to M Collen. 1986.
9. Anderson J, Gremy F, Pages JC. Educational requirements for medical informatics: results of
the first international survey. Proc MEDINFO. 1974;1974:207–11.
10. Anderson J, Gremy F, Pages JC. Education in informatics of health personnel: a study and
recommendation by an international working group (WG 4.1.) set up by the International
Federation for Information Processing. Amsterdam; 1974.
11. Atkins H. Proc. progress in medical computing. London: Elliott Medical Computing; 1965.
12. Ball M, Douglas JV, Walker HP. Preface. In: Ball MJ, Douglas JV, editors. Nursing informat-
ics: where caring and technology meet. New York: Springer; 2011.
13. Ball M. Integrating information systems in health care. In: Bakker AR et al., editors. Towards
new hospital information systems. Amsterdam: Elsevier; 1988. p. 39–44.
14. Ball MJ, Hannah KJ, Jelger UG. Nursing informatics: where caring and technology meet.
New York: Springer-Verlag; 1988.
15. Ball MJ, Douglas JV, Walker PH, DuLong D. Nursing informatics: transforming nursing. In:
Ball MJ, Douglas J, Walker P, editors. Nursing informatics: where technology and caring
meet. London: Springer; 2011. p. 5–12.
16. Ball MJ, et al. Nursing informatics: where caring and technology meet. 2nd ed. New York:
Springer; 1995.
17. Ball MJ, et al. Nursing informatics: where caring and technology meet. 4th ed. New York:
Springer; 2011.
18. Ball MJ, Hannah KJ, Browne JD. Using computers in nursing. Reston: Reston Publishing
Co; 1984.
19. Banta HD, Behney CJ, Sisk JS. Toward rational technology in medicine: considerations for
health policy. New York: Springer; 1981.
20. Barlow JS. An electronic method for detecting evoked responses of the brain and for repro-
ducing their average waveforms. Electroencephalogr Clin Neurophysiol. 1957;9:340–3.
21. Bartels R, Moore FF. Practical considerations in establishing a biomedical data processing
research center. In: Proc 3rd IBM symp. Endicott, NY: IBM. 1961. p. 153–63.
22. Bernstam EV, Smith JW, Johnson TR. What is biomedical informatics? J Biomed Inform.
2010;43:104–10.
23. Best WR. The potential role of computers in medical practice. JAMA. 1962;182:994–1000.
24. Blois MS, Shortliffe EH. The computer meets medicine: emergence of a discipline. In:
Shortliffe EH, Perrault L, editors. Biomedical informatics. Reading: Addison-Wesley; 1990.
p. 3–6.
25. Blois MS. The effect of hierarchy on the encoding of meaning. Proc SCAMC. 1986:73–80.
26. Blois MS. Information and medicine: the nature of medical descriptions. Berkeley: University
of California Press; 1984.
27. Blum BI, Lenhard Jr RE, McColligan EE. An integrated data model for patient care. IEEE
Trans Biomed Eng. 1985;32:277–88.
28. Borass BA. Applications programming in a health services computing center. Proc ACM
Annual Conf 1971:613–21.
29. Brazier MA. From calculating machines to computers and their adoption by the medical sci-
ences. Med Hist. 1973;17:235–43.
30. Brennan PF. Nursing at SCAMC: have we done what we said we were going to do? Proc
SCAMC. 1984:597–600.
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 115
31. Breslow L. Health care versus medical care: implications for data handling. In: Laudet M,
editor. Proc of an international symposium. London: Taylor and Francis; 1977. p. 69–75.
32. Britt PM, Newton CM. A case for functionalization of large computing centers. Proc ACM
Annu Conf 1971:357–8.
33. Brodman K, Erdmann AJ, Goldstein LS. Interpretation of symptoms with a data-processing
machine. AMA Arch Intern Med. 1959;103:776–82.
34. Brodziak A, Suchan L. The introduction of medical informatics: our experiences. Pol Arch
Med Wewn. 1975;54:233–41.
35. Broering NC, Hendrickson GL. Integrated academic information management systems:
introduction. Bull Med Libr Assoc. 1986;74:235–7.
36. Broering NC, Potter J, Mistry P. Linking bibliographic and information databases: an IAIMS
prototype. Proc AAMSI. 1987:169–73.
37. Brunelle RH. Systems programming at a biomedical computing facility. Ann N Y Acad Sci.
1966;128:731–7.
38. Caceres CA. Computers in biomedicine. In: Dickson JFB, editor. Future goals of engineering
in biology and medicine. New York: Academic; 1969.
39. Cardarov S. Terminolgicen Recnik po Informatika. Naujcnoj iTexniceskoj Informacii 1975.
40. Cardiff Publishing. Fifth annual market directory of computers in healthcare. Englewood:
Cardiff Pub. Co; 1988.
41. Childs BW. Healthcare informatics. 1989. p. 6.
42. Childs BW. ECHO and its board. Health care comput and communic. 1985. p. 32–43.
43. Collen MF. Foreword. In: Proceedings: AMIA congress. 1982. p. 82.
44. Collen MF. Computers in preventive health services research. In: 7th IBM medical sympo-
sium. Poughkeepsie, NY: IBM. 1965. p. 331–44.
45. Collen MF. Machine diagnosis from a multiphasic screening program. In: Proc of 5th IBM
medical symposium. Endicott, NY: IBM. 1963. p. 1–23.
46. Collen MF. Automated multiphasic health testing. In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer
systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 274–94.
47. Collen MF, Rubin L, Neyman J, Dantzig GB, Baer RM, Siegelaub AB. Automated multipha-
sic screening and diagnosis. Am J Public Health Nations Health. 1964;54:741–50.
48. Craig JF. Personal communications to M Collen. 1989.
49. Crouse L, Wiederhold G. An advanced computer for real-time medical applications. Comput
Biomed Res. 1969;2:582–98.
50. Daskalaki A. Dental computing and applications: advanced techniques for clinical dentistry.
Dental informatics online communications. 2009.
51. Datamation International. User group directory. 1988; 34:25–48.
52. Davies DE. AAMSI’S forebearers. AAMSI News. 1985;4:1–2.
53. Davies DE. The first ten years of the society for advanced medical systems. In: Hinman E,
editor. Advanced medical systems: an assessment of the contributions. Miami: Symposia
Specialist; 1979. p. 125–33.
54. Degoulet P. The French term Informatique Medicale. Personal Correspondence to M Ball
2010.
55. Detmer DE, Shortliffe EH. Clinical informatics: prospects for a new medical subspecialty.
JAMA. 2014;311:2067–8.
56. Detmer DE, Lumpkin JR, Williamson JJ. Defining the medical subspecialty of clinical infor-
matics. JAMIA. 2009;16:167–8.
57. Dezelic G. Modern medical documentation and the role of medical informatics in solving its
problems (author’s transl). Lijec Vjesn. 1979;101:521–4.
58. Dick RS, Steen EB, Detmer DE. The computer-based patient record: an essential technology
for health care. Revised Edition. Washington, DC: National Academy Press; 1997.
59. Dick RS, Steen EB, Detmer DE. The computer-based patient record: an essential technology
for health care. Washington, DC: National Academy Press; 1991.
116 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
60. Dixon WJ. BMDP computer program manual. Los Angeles: UCLA; 1961.
61. Dixon WJ, Britt PM. Health sciences computing facility, UCLA, 1959–79. In: Blum B,
Duncan K, editors. A history of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990.
p. 76–83.
62. DuLong D, Ball MJ. TIGER: technology informatics guiding education reform: a nursing
imperative. In: Weaver CA et al., editors. Nursing and informatics for the 21st century. 2nd
ed. Chicago: Healthcare Information and Management Systems Society and American
Medical Informatics Association; 2010. p. 17–24.
63. Eden M. Storage and retrieval of the results of clinical research. Proc IRE Trans Med Electron
(ME-7). 1960:265–8.
64. Emlet HE. Minutes of initial meeting of the U.S. Committee on computers in health care.
1980.
65. Farley BG, Clark W. Simulation of self-organizing systems by digital computer. IRE Trans
Inform Theory. 1954;4:76–84.
66. Forest RB. NCC at the crossroads. Datamation. 1986. p. 169–72.
67. Freiherr G. The seeds of artificial intelligence: SUMEX-AIM. Rockville: National Institutes
of Health; 1980.
68. Gabrieli ER. Standardization of medical informatics (special issue). J Clin Comput.
1985;14:62–104.
69. Galler BA. Value of computers in medicine. JAMA. 1960;174:2161–2.
70. Gardner RM, Overhage JM, Steen EB, Munger BS, Holmes JH, Williamson JJ, et al. Core
content for the subspecialty of clinical informatics. JAMIA. 2009;16:153–7.
71. Garfield E. Informatics and the future of biomedical education curricula. Curr Contents.
1986;4:3–5.
72. Garfield SR. The delivery of medical care. Sci Am. 1970;222:15–23.
73. Gee HH. Organization and influence in biomedical computing. Rocquencourt: Journee
d’Informatique Medicale; 1970. p. 437–50.
74. Goodman L. New activities for AEMB. Memo. AEMB J. 1972; 5 Oct 1972.
75. Greenes RA, Siegel ER. Characterization of an emerging field: approaches to defining the
literature and disciplinary boundaries of medical informatics. Proc SCAMC. 1987:411.
76. Hampton HP. Oversight hearings/computers in health care. Special Report. Comput Med
1979; 8:1–6.
77. Harrison AJ. Common elements and interconnections. Science. 1984;224:939–42.
78. Hatton AJ, Perdrizet S, Burghard G, Petitjean R. Study of an informatic system applied to the
public health services. Bull Inst Natl Sante Resch Med. 1970;25:427–36.
79. Haux R. Special issue celebrating 50th anniversary. Methods Inf Med. 2011;50:487–555.
80. Haux R. On medical informatics. Methods Inf Med. 1989;28:66–8.
81. Heller BR, Romano CA, Damrosch SP, McCarthy MR. A needs assessment for graduate
specialization in nursing informatics. Proc SCAMC. 1988:337–42.
82. Hemphill FM, Shannon JA. Medical research potentials in the light of modern data process-
ing. In: Proc 3RD IBM med sym. Endicott, NY: IBM. 1961. p. 9–19.
83. HIMSS Analytics. Essentials of the U.S. hospital IT market. Chicago: Health Information
Management and Systems Society; 2011.
84. HIMSS Legacy Workgroup. History of healthcare management and systems society. Chicago:
HIMSS; 2010.
85. Hoffman JG, Metropolis N, Gardiner V. Digital computer studies of cell multiplication by
Monte Carlo methods. J Natl Cancer Inst. 1956;17:175–88.
86. Hoffman T. The 6th annual medical hardware and software buyers guide. MD Comput.
1989;6:334–77.
87. Huesing SA, ECHO. Past, present and future. US Healthc. 1988;5:30–2.
88. Humphrey H. Senate hearing on the U.S. government and the future of international medical
research. Jul 1959.
89. Humphreys BL, Lindberg DAB. Building the unified medical language system. Proc
SCAMC. 1989:475–80.
2 The Creation of a New Discipline 117
90. Jenkin MA. Clinical informatics: a strategy for the use of information in the clinical setting.
Inform Health Soc Care. 1984;9:225–32.
91. Juenemann HJ. The design of a data processing center for biological data. Ann N Y Acad Sci.
1964;115:547–52.
92. Kaplan B, ed. Computers in ambulatory medicine. In: Proc Joint Conf of SCM and
SAMS. Washington, DC. 1981.
93. Kastner V, Pratt AW. Resourcing. Comput Methods Prog Biomed. 1976;5:189–205.
94. King LS. The automobile makes an impact. JAMA. 1984;251:2352–5.
95. Koeppe P. Education in medical informatics in the Federal Republic of Germany. Methods
Inf Med. 1977;16:160–7.
96. Krasnoff SO. Computers in medicine; a primer for the practicing physician. Springfield:
Thomas; 1967.
97. Kulikowski CA, Shortliffe EH, Currie LM, Elkin PL, Hunter LE, Johnson TR, et al. AMIA
board white paper: definition of biomedical informatics and specification of core competen-
cies for graduate education in the discipline. JAMIA. 2012;19:931–8.
98. Lacey R. Ford, the men and the machine. Boston: Little, Brown; 1986.
99. Lederberg J. How DENDRAL was conceived and born. In: Blum B, Duncan K, editors. A
history of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 14–44.
100. Ledley RS, Lusted LB. Reasoning foundations of medical diagnosis; symbolic logic, proba-
bility, and value theory aid our understanding of how physicians reason. Science.
1959;130:9–21.
101. Ledley RS. Digital computational methods in symbolic logic, with examples in biochemistry.
Proc Natl Acad Sci U S A. 1955;41:498.
102. Ledley RS. Medical diagnosis and medical-record processing. In: Ledley RS, editor. Use of
computers in biology and medicine. New York: McGraw-Hill; 1965. p. 418–95.
103. Ledley RS. Report on the uses of computers in biology and medicine. National Research
Council. 1960.
104. Ledley RS. Use of computers in biology and medicine. New York: McGraw-Hill; 1965.
105. Levy AH, Baskin AB. Clinical computing-1977. J Med Syst. 1977;1:361–74.
106. Ligezinski P. Informatics in health service. Pol Tyg Lek. 1972;27:1735–9.
107. Lindberg D. NLM long range plan. Report of the board of regents. 1987. p. 31.
108. Lindberg D. Medical informatics/computers in medicine. JAMA. 1986;256:2120–2.
109. Lindberg D. Computer networks within health care. In: Peterson H, Isaksson A, editors.
Communications networks in health care. Amsterdam: North Holland; 1982. p. 109–20.
110. Lindberg D. Impact of public policy on the development, adoption, and diffusion of medical
information systems technology. Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Printing Office; 1978.
111. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
112. Lindberg DAB. The development and diffusion of a medical technology: medical informa-
tion systems. In: Medical technology and the health care system: a study of the diffusion of
equipment-embodied technology. Washington, DC: National Academy of Science; 1979.
p. 201–39.
113. Linvill JG. University role in the computer age. Science. 1982;215:802–6.
114. Lipkin M, Engle RL, Davis BJ, Zworykin VK, Ebald R, Sendrow M, et al. Digital computer
as aid to differential diagnosis: use in hematologic diseases. Arch Intern Med.
1961;108:56–72.
115. Lusted LB. Summary of discussions on medical data centers. In: Proc 3rd IBM Med Sym.
Endicott, NY: IBM. 1961. p. 203–13.
116. Lusted LB. Medical progress: medical electronics. N Engl J Med. 1955;252:580–5.
117. Lusted LB, Coffin RW. An automated information system for hospitals and biomedical
research laboratories. Chicago: Year Book Pub, Inc; 1967.
118. Lusted LB. Computers in medicine: a personal perspective. J Chronic Dis. 1966;19:365–72.
119. Mackintosh DR. Directory of publications in health systems and informatics. Washington,
DC: AAMSI; 1985.
118 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
153. Saenger EL, Sterling TD. Design and operation of a medical computing center. Ann N Y
Acad Sci. 1964;115:591–9.
154. Safran C, Shabot MM, Munger BS, Holmes JH, Steen EB, Lumpkin JR, et al. Program
requirements for fellowship education in the subspecialty of clinical informatics. JAMIA.
2009;16:158–66.
155. Sanazaro PJ. Federal health services R & D under the auspices of the National Center for
Health Services Research and Development. In: Flook E, Sanazaro PJ, editors. Health ser-
vices research and R&D in perspective. Ann Arbor: Univ of Michigan Health Adminstration
Press; 1973. p. 150–83.
156. Sanazaro PJ. National center for health services. Res Dev Dig. 1969;1:1–12.
157. Schatz W. United States computer research’s basic dilemma. Datamation. 1989;35:44–7.
158. Schenthal JE, Sweeney JW, Nettleton W. Clinical application of electronic data processing
apparatus: II. New methodology in clinical record storage. JAMA. 1961;178:267–70.
159. Schleyer T. Dental informatics: the right time to invest in training and research? Dental
Tribune. 2009.
160. Schwan HP. Bio-medical electronics past and present. Biomed Electron IRE Trans.
1961;8:234–8.
161. Shambaugh V. MJ Clinics in Asia. Personal communication. Mar 2012.
162. Shambaugh V. The origin of the International Health Evaluation and Promotion Association
(IHEPA). 2010.
163. Shannon JA. Federal support of biomedical sciences: development and academic impact. J
Med Educ. 1976;51:1–98.
164. Shephard RH. Plans for developing a computational facility at the Johns Hopkins Medical
Institutions. In: Proc 3rd IBM med symp. Endicott, NY: IBM. 1961. p. 191–6.
165. Shortliffe EH, Perreault L. Medical informatics: computer applications in health care.
Reading: Addison-Wesley; 1990.
166. Shortliffe EH. The science of biomedical computing. In: Pages J, Levy A, Gremy F, Anderson
J, editors. Meeting the challenge: informatics and medical education. New York: Elsevier
Science; 1983. p. 3–10.
167. Shortliffe EH, Cimino JJ. Biomedical informatics: computer applications in health care and
biomedicine. London: Springer Science + Business Media, LLC; 2015.
168. Shortliffe EH, Detmer DE, Munger BS. Clinical informatics: the emergence of a new profes-
sion. In: Finell JT, Dixon BE, editors. Clinical informatics study guide: text and review.
London: Springer; 2015.
169. Shortliffe EH. Computer-based medical consultations, MYCIN. New York: Elsevier; 1976.
170. Shryock RH, Arnau M. American medical research: past and present. New York: Arno Press;
1980.
171. Skiba DJ, DuLong D, Newbold SK. TIGER collaboratives and diffusion. In: Ball M, Douglas
J, Walker P, editors. Nursing informatics. 4th ed. London: Springer; 2011. p. 35–50.
172. Stacy RW, Waxman BD. Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1965.
173. Starr P. The social transformation of American medicine. New York: Basic Books; 1982.
174. Stead WW. A window on medical informatics. Proc SCAMC. 1987: 3–5.
175. Sterling T, Pollack S. MEDCOMP: handbook of computer applications in biology and medi-
cine. Cincinnati: University of Cincinnati; 1964.
176. Stoneburner LL. APPLE medical users group international. Proc SCAMC.
1980;3:1399–400.
177. Sweeney JW. The role of a computer center in biomedicine. In: Proc 5th IBM symp. Endicott,
NY: IBM. 1963. p. 5–18.
178. Taylor R. The computer: concept, development and problem environment. J Chronic Dis.
1966;19:333–48.
179. Terry LT. News release. HEW, NIH Division of Research Facilities and Resources. 1963.
180. Thomas U. OECD informatics studies. Computerized data banks in public administration.
1971.
181. Troseth M. The TIGER initiative. In: Saba VK, editor. Essentials of nursing informatics.
New York: McGraw-Hill; 2006.
120 M.F. Collen and E.H. Shortliffe
182. Troseth MR. The TIGER initiative. In: Saba VK, McCormick K, editors. Essentials of nursing
informatics. New York: McGraw-Hill; 2011. p. 633–40.
183. Turner WA, Lamson BG. Automatic data processing in hospitals: a powerful new tool for
clinical research. Hospitals. 1964;38:87–90.
184. Tvedness JA. HISSG: leading the way. MUG Q. 1983;12:3.
185. Uberla K. Medizinische informatick. Neue Munch Beitr Gesch Med. 1978;7–8:629–33.
186. Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Levy AH, Baker RL, Liss DM, Pope SB. An on-line computer
system for a rehabilitation hospital. Methods Inf Med. 1968;7:31.
187. Van Bemmel J. The structure of medical informatics: bibliography on educational courses at
the Free University, Amsterdam. Inform Health Soc Care. 1984;9:175–80.
188. Van Bemmel J, Shortliffe EH, Salamon R, Blum B, Jorgensen M. Medical informatics: from
art to science. Proc MEDINFO 1986; Foreword p. vii–xv.
189. Warner HR. A mathematical approach to medical diagnoses: applications to congenital heart
disease. JAMA 1961:177(3):173–6.
190. Waxman BD. Planting the seeds: personal observations. In: Blum B, Duncan K, editors. A
history of medical informatics. New York: ACM Press; 1990. p. 111–5.
191. Waxman BD. Public health service support of biomedical computing. In: Proc of the 3rd IBM
Medical Symposium. Endicott: IBM; 1961. p. 199–202.
192. Weaver CA. Nursing and informatics for the 21st century: an international look at practice,
trends and the future. Chicago: Healthcare Information and Management Systems Society;
2006.
193. Weinrauch H, Patishall E. The air force and applications of computers to medicine and biol-
ogy. Mil Med. 1958;3:178–80.
194. Weiss S, Kulikowski CA, Safir A. Glaucoma consultation by computer. Comput Biol Med.
1978;8:25–40.
195. Williams B. Tokyo Accords. Enclosure 1 minutes of SAMS board of directors meeting. 30
Oct 1980.
196. Woodbury MA, Tick LJ, Cady LD. The biomedical computing section in a general-purpose
computing laboratory. Ann N Y Acad Sci. 1964;115:609.
197. Wraith SM, Aikins JS, Buchanan BG, Clancey WJ, Davis R, Fagan LM, et al. Computerized
consultation system for selection of antimicrobial therapy. Am J Health-Syst Pharm.
1976;33:1304–8.
198. Zielstorff RD. Computers in nursing. Wakefield: Nursing Resources; 1980.
199. Zimmerman JL, Landesman HM, Bilan JP, Stuffelbeam D, Ball MJ, Bydalek RO. Study of
computer applications in dental practice. Dent Clin N Am. 1986;30:731–8.
200. Zimmerman JL, Achtenberg J, Sherentz DD. Education in computing: the MUMPS user
group example. Proc MEDINFO. 1980;80:358–61.
Part II
Direct Patient Care
Chapter 3
Development of Medical Information Systems
(MISs)
From the 1950s to today, when people went to see a physician, the doctor asked
about the patient’s medical problems and obtained the patient’s medical history. The
physician then recorded the patient’s physical examination findings and arrived at a
preliminary diagnosis. Usually the physician would order laboratory or diagnostic
tests, documented as part of the encounter, to confirm the preliminary diagnoses.
The physician frequently would prescribe a medication or other treatment. The
patient might then be scheduled for a return visit to evaluate the outcome of the
treatment.
This chapter describes the development, evolution, and diffusion of Medical
Information Systems (MIS) in the United States. A number of factors have influ-
enced the course of development of MISs including exponential growth in technol-
ogy, changing reimbursement models, explosive expansion of knowledge, new
kinds of data to be recorded, advancements in connectivity, a wealth of program-
ming languages and database models, and finally a wealth of developments of appli-
cations from home-grown to major commercial vendors. The period is best described
as one of constant change.
Moore [246] described the medical care system as being predominantly informa-
tional, in that it depended largely on the acquisition, storage, and interpretation of
information by both the patient and the doctor. Although the basic kinds of informa-
tion that pass directly between the patient and the physician differed little between
the 1950s and the 2010s, there were substantial changes in the methods of collect-
ing, storing, retrieving, and using medical information. Moreover, there was a much
greater volume of information captured as a result of many innovations both in
diagnostic technology (for example, in automated laboratory testing and radiology
image scanners) and in therapeutic technology (for example, new antibiotics and
more organ transplants). Furthermore, the complexity of information processing
was greatly increased by fundamental changes in the organization and financing of
medical practice, such as by health maintenance organizations (HMOs) with multi-
hospital organizations that received a fixed payment per-person per-month for spec-
ified medical services rather than for fees-for-services provided; insurance
reimbursement programs such as Medicare payments for patient care by coded
diagnosis-related groups (DRGs); and an increasing interest of government policy
makers in supporting and monitoring the costs and effectiveness of patient care
services. By 2010 the provision of patient care in the United States had several
dimensions of linkages and integration of patient care information, including local
integration of information within a hospital or an outpatient clinic; vertical
integration of information between affiliated hospitals and medical offices; and
horizontal integration among associated hospitals, clinics, and community health
and welfare support groups.
Information systems were described by Ledley and Lusted [194] as consisting of
three essential parts: a system for documenting and organizing the information in a
file; a method for locating in this file the information on a specific subject; and a
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 125
method for keeping the information in the file up to date. Collen [73] defined a
medical information system as one that used electronic data processing and com-
munications systems to provide on-line processing with real-time responses for
patient data within one or more medical centers that included both hospital and
outpatient services. Lindberg [206] defined a MIS as a set of formal arrangements
by which information concerning the health and health care of individual patients
were collected, stored, and processed in computers.
In the 1950s with the introduction of computers into health care, medical practi-
tioners began to speculate about the development and use of computer-based medi-
cal information systems (MISs). Physicians began to bring batches of their patient
data to a central computer to be processed. Patient care data were initially collected,
entered, and merged into computer files that were stored on magnetic tape; and file
management systems were developed to enter, store, and retrieve the data. In the
1960s time-shared, mainframe computers that communicated by telephone lines to
remote data entry terminals and printers allowed many users to process their data
concurrently; and also provided a relatively acceptable turn-around time for many
computer services. Patients’ data that were initially stored in computer databases on
magnetic tape were soon moved to storage on random-access, magnetic disc drives;
and were then better organized in a manner more suitable for query and retrieval of
the data. However, at that time the high costs for computer storage greatly limited
database capacities.
By the mid-1960s solid-state integrated circuits in third-generation computers
began to satisfy some of the technical requirements for MISs. Spencer and Vallbona
[311] had optimistically concluded that with the available technology and with the
proper functional requirements and technical design, the following areas of medical
practice should soon be open to improvement by computers: patients’ records, med-
ical diagnosis, laboratory testing, patient monitoring, hospital communications, and
utilization of hospital services and facilities.
In the 1970s as clinical support subsystems evolved for the clinical laboratory,
radiology, pharmacy and for other clinical services, most developed their own sepa-
rate subsystem databases. With the availability of random-access disc storage, the
development of the modern electronic patient record began; since subsystem data-
bases could be more readily merged into larger databases, which then needed an
integrating database-management system. The retrieval of subsets of selected data
from various subsystem databases required some re-organization of the stored data;
and also needed an index to the locations of the various data subsets. Attempts were
made to design more efficient databases to make them independent of their applica-
tions and subsystems, so that a well-designed database could process almost any
type of data presented to it, and satisfy the functions of a patient record. Terdiman
[317] credited the development of microcomputer technology in the 1970s with
many of the advances in database management systems in that decade.
In the 1980s minicomputers and microcomputers were increasingly used for
small database systems. As storage technology continued to become more efficient,
and larger and cheaper storage devices became available, then computer-based reg-
126 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
istries expanded their storage capacity for larger amounts of data and were then
generally referred to as databases. When huge storage capacity became available at
a relatively low cost, very large collections of data were then often referred to as
data warehouses. The year of 1988 was called the year of the database by Bryan [45]
who reported that more than 20 new or improved database-management systems
became available in that year. In 1989 the total number of computer-stored data-
bases in the world was estimated to be about five million; and although most of the
databases were considered to be relatively small, some were huge, such as the 1990
U.S. census database comprising a trillion bytes of data [102].
The introduction and diffusion of medical information systems in the United States
was always considered by many to be much too slow. Best [30] raised the question
in the early 1960s, that if the computer was going to do so much good for medicine,
why the delay in its introduction? His answer at that time was that computers were
too expensive, the input-output devices were not adequate, and that suitable soft-
ware was yet to be developed. In 1965 Summerfield [315] listed in the United States
73 hospital and office information system projects and 28 clinical support systems
projects for clinical laboratories and pharmacies. Barnett [20] reviewed the status of
ten developing hospital information systems (HISs), one outpatient information
system (OIS), three clinical laboratory systems, and one multiphasic health testing
system. A 1967 survey reported that 568 hospitals in the United States had comput-
ers, of which less than 20 % had computer applications in patient care or in medical
research [225]. In 1968 a questionnaire survey with responses from approximately
one-half of the 2,400 hospitals surveyed, found that 50 % of the hospitals with more
than 200 beds used computers, whereas only 14 % of the hospitals with less than
200 beds had computers [139]. Barnett [20] also observed that the most widely
implemented application of computers to patient care was for the electronic pro-
cessing of clinical laboratory data. Caceres [47] reported that one-fourth of the users
of computers in health care services were in hospitals with more than 250 beds,
one-fourth were in state or city health departments, one-fourth in employee health
screening or group practice programs, and one-fourth in medical research.
Galbraith [123] cautioned that the successful development of sophisticated com-
plex technology required a heavy investment of capital; they needed to be designed
and guided by sophisticated technologists; and they involved a great lapse of time
between any decision to produce and the emergence of a marketable product. Flagle
[99] also warned of the seriousness of the challenge when he emphasized that it
must be recognized if the hopes of a comprehensive health service system were to
be fulfilled, the enormity of the communications and analysis tasks demanded the
full potentials of communication and computing technology. Flagle [100] further
commented on the obstacles to overcoming the complex technology in the health
field, since the processes of direct patient care did not meet the requirements for
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 127
• Construct a modular system, since given the chaotic state of the typical hospital
operation, the conflicting governing power structure, the rapid changes in man-
power utilization, and the available computer technology, it was impossible at
this date to construct a total MIS.
• Build a system that can evolve in a manageable way. Once subsystems have been
developed and are operational, it is much easier to see how to build the next sys-
tem and its interconnections; and the system must be capable of being expanded
without requiring redesign or reprogramming.
• Build a system that allows easy and rapid programming, development, and modi-
fication, since it is characteristic of a MIS that the objectives and specific proce-
dures will change with time.
• Build a system that has a consistently rapid response time to queries, and is easy
for a computer-illiterate person to use.
• Have duplicate hardware systems to assure a reliable backup operation, and
when the system does fail it should do so without loss of data.
• Build and implement the system as a joint effort with real users in a real situation
with real problems, since the best critics are those who use the system.
• Consider the costs and benefits of the system.
• Acquire a commitment of continuing support from the administration and the
organization.
• Be optimistic about the future, be passionate in your commitment, but always be
guided by a fundamental skepticism and do not confuse future potential with
present reality [25].
Lamson [191] also offered some general principles that he believed were associ-
ated with successful computer applications in hospitals:
• Develop computing competence within the hospital staff; set attainable goals
with realistic time tables;
• Use a modular approach;
• Avoid dependence on complex manual interfaces such as handwritten manual
records;
• Avoid creating increases in local work in order to achieve longer-term and more
broadly based efficiency; and
• Avoid confining general communication solutions to isolated segments of the
hospital; and select the initial and subsequent applications guided by maximum
cost-effectiveness.
From a series of case studies in the 1960s, Collen [72] similarly found that dur-
ing that decade a number of hospitals in the United States had tried to implement a
MIS, but in 1972 there was not yet a single successfully completed total MIS. He
cited the following five major reasons for their failure:
Most commonly the failure was due to a suboptimal mix of medical and com-
puter specialists in the project staff who consisted of well-motivated physicians who
had little experience with computers and computer and system experts who had
little experience with medical practice. The extreme difficulty with intercommuni-
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 129
cating the highly technical and complex aspects of these two disciplines usually
resulted in the computer staff underestimating the vast medical needs. Most organi-
zations grossly underestimated the large amounts of money and time involved in
implementing a total MIS, so there was an inadequate commitment of capital for
long-term development. Some projects were terminated after 3–5 years because
several million dollars had already been spent and the system was still far from
being completed.
A sub-optimized systems approach was frequently used and several projects
failed because they had successfully implemented one or more subsystem compo-
nents for the administration, for hospital bed-census, patient scheduling, for the
clinical laboratory and pharmacy and then wanted to integrate all the subsystems
into an MIS. At that point, they discovered serious incompatibilities between the
various modules that would require major reprogramming at prohibitive costs to
achieve an integrated patient database; and these projects then usually continued the
individual subsystem modules as independent computer-based units. At the other
extreme were some projects that began with the global systems approach to imple-
ment a total MIS, but the sheer enormity of such an approach had not yet found
anyone with the necessary vast resources capable of successfully following that
course.
Unacceptable computer terminals were a prime reason why many of the early
MIS projects were never implemented. The first systems required physicians and
nurses to use keyboard-type, typewriter-like terminals. It was soon established that
physicians would not accept such means for communicating with the computer, and
for these systems the clerical personnel had to take over the process of data entry.
An inadequate management organization was an occasional cause of failure.
Several projects in the United States were initiated in smaller hospitals with inexpe-
rienced medical management, and they terminated after having completed an
administrative-business type of system. Large technological systems tended to com-
mit an organization to a relatively fixed goal for a number of years. Since an invest-
ment in an MIS was usually a heavy one, a poor technical judgment could be
disastrous. Later Collen [75] added that for a MIS with a medical database manage-
ment system, the situation was further aggravated by the lack of standardization of
medical data and medical practice, and the difficulties of demonstrating the cost-
effectiveness of the MIS.
Davis [83] described what he considered to be three fundamental problems in
developing a MIS at that time.
• As there were yet no operational, comprehensive MISs, there was little realistic
insight or understanding of their full potential, and there was not a broad base of
support or demand for such large and expensive systems. This lack of demand
translated into a lack of long-term commitment of resources, and insufficient
capital necessary to construct such complex technological systems over the
needed long development time.
• Medical practice was diverse, dynamic, and non-standardized. Physicians were
unable to state objectively a set of standards or specifications to a sufficiently
explicit degree suitable for computer design and programming.
130 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
• The high costs of equipment, the poor reliability for 24-h, online uninterrupted
use, and inflexible terminal devices made the use of these systems awkward,
undependable, and difficult to cost justify [84].
Baker and Spencer [12] emphasized the need for a MIS to be readily transferra-
ble, since there would not be a major effect on the health care system unless medical
information systems could be transferred successfully to various sites. To meet the
cost-effectiveness requirement of potential host sites, they recommended that a
transferrable information system should be demonstrably beneficial in terms of
cost-effectiveness; well defined to facilitate determination of the procedure changes
involved in implementing the automated system; compatible with the available
resources that supported any other computer processes at the host site; and consis-
tent with the institution’s long-term goals for automation. They proposed that for an
MIS to accommodate the local conditions of various sites, a transferrable MIS had
to have adequate and variable scope to be applicable to a class of problems; com-
puter programs written in a popular language that could be used on a variety of
machines, with the transferability of software in the context of the available hard-
ware at the host site; fast transaction rates which were determined not only by com-
puter speeds but also by the efficiency of the algorithms that processed the messages
and generated the responses, since a user of interactive terminals had a set of expec-
tations about the time required to perform a particular task; and acceptance of the
system by users, and that depended not only on what the system did but also on how
the operations were carried out.
Rockart [285] noted that successful implementation of a system depended on the
match between the collection, processing, and output of the information system
with the process model held by the system user. He advocated that medical informa-
tion systems should be more concerned with medical, as opposed to administrative,
aspects of the delivery of medical care. Yet he pointed out that few systems analysts
had medical training of any sort, so difficulties in conversations with physicians
were many.
Jenkin [168] reported that a review of successful MISs at the time indicated that
design concepts to ensure the necessary generality, flexibility, and ease of use vital
to their acceptance included the following requirements:
• The input data, which involved the area of human-machine interaction, had to be
accurate. To capture any significant amount of clinically useful information the
system had to support the logic paths of the medical practitioner; and this support
could be assured only through the practitioner’s direct involvement at the time of
medical content development. Jenkin also noted out that for each and every
system action, an input transaction had to be generated. Since in the clinical situ-
ation these usually originated with the physician, it was also most efficient to
have the physician generate and verify the input transcriptions.
• The database management system had to be independent of its applications. The
data had to be storable and retrievable independent of user or application.
• The clinical environment required more of a capability for message handling and
file management, rather than of computing power. It was extremely important to
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 131
have the ability to handle various transactions using many different devices; and
to connect each transaction, independently of the device involved, to the appro-
priate application program.
Giebink and Hurst [126] described 29 medical computing projects at 19 sites,
with their beginning dates from 1963 to 1972. These included five stand-alone hos-
pitals, eight hospitals with outpatient clinics, three prepayment health plans or
group practices, one community clinic, and one hospital with outpatient and com-
munity clinics. Of the 29 projects, 25 had electronic medical records, 24 were for
patient care applications, 23 for diagnostic or consultation assistance, 20 for
research, 9 for appointment scheduling, 8 for signal analysis (electrocardiography
or electroencephalography), 7 for history taking, 5 for clinical support services (lab-
oratory, radiology, or pharmacy), and 2 for multiphasic screening. The objectives
given for these 29 projects included improve quality of patient care (13 sites);
improve utilization of skilled personnel (10 sites) and improve efficiency (8 sites).
Principal funding came from the U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare
and, in some instances, from private foundations. The health care delivery organiza-
tion itself rarely completely sponsored its medical computing work. In projects that
had been in existence for more than 2 or 3 years, the institution sponsored a part of
the cost of the information system. Some projects evolved from research projects to
operational capability with the research funded by the government; and the system
then funded entirely by the receiving institution after the government funding termi-
nated. They also reported that many of the vendor-sponsored MISs planned or initi-
ated in the late 1960s were extinct in the 1970s and served as testimony to the
difficulties of implementing computer-based information systems for health care
delivery. In 1975 they saw a gradual evolution of successful medical computer
applications rather than a sharply escalating growth pattern. Medical computer
applications that met operational criteria were rare except for their routine business
applications; and computer-based medical records were usually abstracts of more
complete paper-based patient records maintained in hard copy form. They also
listed as major developmental or operational problems such items as: poor response
time, poor system reliability, high machine down-time, unreliable terminals, bad
data storage disks, power failures, poor telecommunications, problems with tele-
phone lines, difficulties in interfacing with other automated applications, lack of
physician agreement and standardization on data content, high costs of equipment,
inadequate resources, and badly designed software.
Henley and Wiederhold [148] and associates reviewed 17 operational OISs in the
United States. They found that most of the computer equipment in actual productive
use was about 10 years old. They concluded that one reason for long lead times was
the sequential process of the systems development effort. When computers were
new, they required initial work in basic software development to make them suitable
for computer medical applications development, which took time; and then integra-
tion of the applications services into the ongoing health care environment took even
more time.
132 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
In the 1970s the clinical support systems for the laboratory, radiology, electrocar-
diology, and pharmacy readily incorporated computers, and these specialties soon
radically changed the practice of medicine. However, the diffusion of medical com-
puting into the general clinical specialties was much slower. Lindberg [214] com-
mented on the rate of adoption of non-clinical applications, which he called
relatively simple grade-one innovations. He noted that by the mid-1970s more than
85 % of all U.S. hospitals used computer systems or services in connection with
their patient billings, collections, and third-party reimbursement functions; and the
rate of adoption of computers in hospitals for such purposes was not slower than for
industry in general. By 1976, 2.7 % of all general purpose conventional computers
within the U.S. were owned by medical and hospital services; and this compared
with 2.9 % which were owned by the transportation and carrier industry, and 2.7 %
which were owned by the printing and publishing industry. Lindberg [205] also
reported that in 1976 less than 200 U.S. hospitals had MISs which included signifi-
cant amounts of indirect patient care activities; and less than 100 of these MISs
rendered direct clinical care services.
Van Brunt [322] suggested that the requirements for an integrated computer-
based patient record were so difficult to meet that it limited the development of a
MIS. Although it was a limiting factor in MIS development, he advised that argu-
ments for the standardization of medical procedures and information needs were
overemphasized; and that greater flexibility and sophistication were needed in the
arena of collation, of communication, and of the reporting of clinical data.
The Office of Technology Assessment (OTA) of the U.S. Congress reported in
1977 that major problem areas for developing MISs were: (1) the great variability in
medical care and the lack of rules specifying what information should be entered in
the medical record; (2) unresolved technical problems to satisfy health profession-
als’ needs for data entry and retrieval; and (3) lack of long-term commitment of
capital, which had been provided by private industry, by the federal government
primarily by the National Center for Health Services Research and Development
(NCHSR&D), and by the medical care institution involved. Expenditures by
NCHSR&D for grants relating to MISs had decreased from a high of $4.6 million
in fiscal year 1974 to $3.3 million in fiscal year 1976 [267].
Friedman [114] and Gustafson also observed that the overall influence of com-
puters on health care delivery in the mid-1970s was smaller than had been expected;
and they gave four reasons for this delay:
• The physician-computer interaction was not successfully accomplished; and a
main impediment to successful physician-computer communications was that
many computer user terminals were poorly engineered resulting in frequent
mechanical breakdowns. The computer terminals were expensive, and were
often placed in out-of-the-way locations, making them inconvenient to operate,
and useless for rapid access to data retrieval; and the computer response time was
often too slow for busy physicians. To obtain information from the computer, the
physician was usually required to take part in a long technical dialog that often
required knowledge of special passwords, codes, or computer languages.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 133
• The physicians were often not provided with computer-based medical applica-
tions that exceeded their own capabilities. Whereas in other fields, the computer
was often used to perform tasks previously incomprehensible to a human, in
health care delivery the computer applications often merely duplicated the physi-
cian’s actions.
• Another major impediment to the successful utilization of computer technology
in medicine and health care was the difficulty in proving a significant positive
effect on patient care by cost-effectiveness studies. It had not been demonstrated
that physicians could make better, or less costly decisions because of computer
use.
• Computer applications were not always easily transferred from one institution to
another.
Friedman [113] also advised that, to be successful, developers of MISs needed to
solve the problems of computer-physician interaction; develop software that
exceeded the physician’s capabilities; demonstrate a significant clinical benefit;
develop easily transferable programs; conduct research in a change-oriented man-
ner; and learn from mistakes on earlier computer systems.
In contrast to the computer applications in the clinical laboratory and radiology,
where the added costs for computer processing could be included in the charges for
these procedures, neither a medical information system nor its computer-based
patient record were directly chargeable or reimbursable as specific procedures or as
identifiable services to patients. Willems [333] wrote that financing methods figured
prominently in technology diffusion; and that in contrast to fee-for-service reim-
bursement, prospective reimbursement for medical services forced health care pro-
viders to weigh alternatives, and to choose among them within the financial
constraint of their budgets. As a result, one expected greater emphasis on cost-
reducing technologies under prospective-payment programs than under retrospec-
tive cost-reimbursement programs.
In his testimony before a Congressional Committee, Lindberg [208] attributed
some of the slow diffusion of medical computing applications to the lack of longer-
term support from the National Institutes of Health (NIH). Although in the 1960s
and 1970s NIH did support many research and developmental projects in medical
informatics, most of these were for less than 5 years of funding, which was not a
sufficient time to develop a prototype MIS. Furthermore, he was critical of the great
effect that the Medicare reimbursement system had on diverting hospital funds into
the development of accounting systems for claims reimbursement, rather than into
patient care applications. He advocated a federal interagency approach for the man-
agement of MIS development and diffusion, recommending that the National
Library of Medicine (NLM) take the role of lead agency to orchestrate these activi-
ties. However, Lindberg [207] noted that there was a limit to the role of NIH in the
support of the development and diffusion of MISs, in that the NIH support always
terminated once the scientific success of the project had been declared; and this was
not usually consistent with the time frame needed to bring a MIS to the stage of even
a prototype commercial system, and to provide for the transition of the system to a
134 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
self-sustaining basis. Lindberg [206] again wrote on the barriers to the development
and diffusion of MIS technology; and provided a comprehensive review of the then
existing literature. He proposed four grades of complexity of MIS technology: sim-
ple functions like accounting; more complex tasks such as automated electrocardio-
gram analyses; highly complex functions like computer-based patient records; and
new models of an existing function such as the computer-based medical record.
Lindberg asserted that barriers to diffusion of MISs were sociological and behav-
ioral as well as technological; and that two kinds of technical barriers had been
encountered: those typical of any newly evolving technology enterprise, and those
more specific to the medical environment. With respect to the latter, he was critical
of medicine having an administrative pattern of “balkanization,” with social barriers
that slowed its adaptability by the health professions. Lindberg [206] further asserted
that nothing about the computer techniques used in MISs made these systems fun-
damentally different from the computer systems used in nonmedical fields; but there
were two special nontechnical barriers inherent in the medical application; and
these were limitations in the state of medical knowledge about illness and health,
and limitations in the state of medical systems management.
Whereas in the 1960s MIS development was limited by computer power and
storage capacity, by the late 1970s it was evident that further MIS utility would
depend on developing software that more fully satisfied physician needs. By the end
of the 1970s, Levy et al. [198, 199] and Lindberg [206] concluded that although the
advent of microprocessors had greatly advanced the hardware support for MISs,
especially for OISs in ambulatory care, that further growth for HISs would depend
more heavily on software development. Blum [40] agreed that the 1970s had intro-
duced computers with very large-scale integration (VLSI) which had produced
computers of great reliability, small size, and low cost; and had produced applica-
tions that were previously impractical but had now become cost-effective. However,
during this phase it became clear that the most expensive component in a MIS had
become the cost of software development. Blum considered 1975 to be a watershed
year since computer technology was finally able to support the information process-
ing requirements of the medical community.
Ball [16] reported on a survey conducted in 1980 of what was called Class-B
MISs that integrated interdepartmental and specialty services in hospitals. Ball fur-
ther divided the Class-B group into Level 1 systems that provided primarily admin-
istrative functions with some reporting features for laboratory or pharmacy and
Level 2 systems, which provided a patient care record and clinical and nursing ser-
vices functions. She found that in 1980 at least 18 vendors in the U.S. were market-
ing and selling Level 1 systems, and approximately 500 Level 1 systems had been
installed in U.S. hospitals since 1974. Five of 18 vendors marketing Level 1 systems
were also marketing a Level 2 system. Ball [15] listed some other barriers: vendors’
tendency to oversell; unrealistic expectations of recipients: perceived threats to tra-
ditional procedures; insufficient medical profession involvement: a desire to
improve old systems rather than to shift to new approaches; and fear of the unknown.
Van Brunt [320] reflected why, in the 1970s, so few operating medical service
applications had been fully integrated into the patient care process. He considered
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 135
to feel that a system was theirs; (4) educational programs that aimed at user accep-
tance and user competence.
Shortliffe [304] also emphasized the importance of the education of physicians
in medical computing to ensure better future acceptance of MISs by physicians. An
interesting incentive for the physicians’ use of a MIS was offered by Watson [312]
from the Boston Center for Law and Health Sciences: that courts might impose
liability on providers for patient injuries caused by the absence of medical comput-
ers even where the custom of most other providers would not have required com-
puter use.
Naisbitt [254] described three stages of technological development that readily
applied to the development of MISs. In the first stage, the new technology or inno-
vation followed the line of least resistance; that is, it was applied in ways that did
not threaten people, thereby reducing the chance that it would be rejected. Thus, in
medicine, computers were first used for business and accounting functions. In the
second stage, the technology was used to improve or replace previous technologies.
For example, microcomputer-based word processors replaced typewriters. In the
third stage, new directions or uses were discovered that grew out of the technology
itself. In radiology, computer-based imaging devices created inventions not previ-
ously imagined. Naisbitt suggested that computer technology was to the informa-
tion age what mechanization was to the industrial revolution; that it was a threat
because it incorporated functions previously performed by workers; and when new
technology was introduced to society, there needed to be a counterbalancing human
response or the technology would be rejected; and the more high technology was
present, the more the need for human touch.
Kwon [189] reported in 1983 that almost 90 % of the nation’s 5,987 short-term,
acute-care general hospitals were using computers, with about 80 % of the com-
puter use was said to be for administrative purposes. Further, only about 10 % of the
hospitals used more than 50 % of their computer capacity in the clinical area. Ball
[17] analyzed a questionnaire given to 900 private-practitioner physicians enrolled
in a postgraduate course of continuing medical education and reported that half
responded that they saw no immediate use for a computer in their hospital or private
practice. Of those who did respond that they used a computer, about one-half of the
applications were for accounting and billing and about one-fourth were for schedul-
ing, planning, and statistical functions. Less than 10 % used the computer for patient
records and patient care functions.
Glaser and associates [127] presented a model of the relationships of a MIS and
a health care organization that proposed that a MIS affected not only its users
but also the organization as a whole and that some of these effects might be
entirely unintended. A MIS could produce personnel changes, centralize decision-
making, and affect the social structure of the health care organization. They stated
that the MIS should fit the users’ information, psychological, social, and task
needs. If the technical system ignored the organization’s social system, the MIS
might not fit with other systems and, even if accepted, might lead to a less effec-
tive organization.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 137
Grams [136] reported that U.S. hospitals spent $4.1 billion, or about one-percent
of their operating budgets, for data processing. More than 30,000 physicians were
then using personal computers for their practices. Linton [215] categorized physi-
cian users in three types: type 1 was the adventurer who enthusiastically embraced
the computer and who developed new ways to use the computer; type 2 was the
pragmatist who comprised the largest user category and had little interest in the
computer except as a tool to achieve an objective; and type 3 was the recalcitrant –
dissenter, gainsayer, or conservative, a steadfast non-user of computers. With refer-
ence to user psychology and temperament, Linton forecasted that in all probability,
no matter how great the technological successes, there were frontiers that would
never be crossed by present lines of computer technology.
Fineberg [96] proposed ten factors that influenced the adoption or abandonment
of a medical technology, all of which applied to some degree to a MIS:
• The prevailing theory and accepted explanations for empirical phenomena
appeared to have a strong influence on the acceptance of new ideas and might
delay the acceptance of ultimately proved innovations.
• Attributes of the innovation enhanced diffusion to the extent that they were easy
to use, required little effort to learn, imposed little change in practice style, were
highly remunerative and satisfying, and had no clinically worthy competitors.
• An innovation that solved an important clinical problem and was seen as highly
pertinent to practice was likely to be adopted more readily than an otherwise
equally attractive innovation that addressed a less pressing or pertinent
situation.
• The presence of an advocate who promoted the innovation often contributed to
the successful diffusion of new practices.
• Many studies of diffusion sought to explain adoption in terms of physician attri-
butes, such as their technical skills, demographic characteristics, professional
characteristics, socio-metric status, and attitudes toward innovation.
• The practice setting was a factor, since physicians in group practices appeared to
adopt innovations more rapidly than physicians in solo practice. The size and
teaching status of hospitals appeared to influence hospital acquisition of
equipment.
• The decision-making process that involved more people was likely to require a
longer time to come to a conclusion.
• Environmental constraints and incentives, such as regulatory agencies and medi-
cal care insurers, exercised direct and indirect control over the diffusion of many
medical practices.
• Conduct and methods of evaluation could act directly on the perception of physi-
cians. It could influence experts who in turn influenced physicians, or it could
influence the policy decisions of regulatory bodies or of third-party payers and
hence alter the environment in which medical practice decisions were made.
• Channels of communication could influence the rate of diffusion. Studies of how
doctors learned about new medical practices, based on physician surveys, found
138 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
that medical journals, discussion with colleagues, and continuing education were
each regarded as important sources, with journals most consistently cited as high
in importance.
Kling [185] published an extensive analysis of the social aspects of computing
and wrote that, although computers were commonly viewed as a tool, they should
more accurately be looked on as a package that included social, in addition to tech-
nical, elements. He noted that computer-based systems could increase the influence
of those who had access to the technology and can organize data to their advantage
and understand computer use. Markus [222] expanded on Kling’s publication and
presented three reasons for resistance to using MISs: (1) Some people resisted MISs
because it was their human nature to resist all change; (2) Poor system design
resulted in technical problems and thus tended to cause resistance to acceptance;
and (3) Interactions between MIS and the organization, such as when the MIS
tended to alter the balance of power by increased centralized control, and this also
increased resistance to user acceptance.
During the 1980s Anderson and Jay [4, 7] at Purdue University and Methodist
Hospital of Indiana conducted extensive studies on the effects of physician attitudes
on the acceptance and diffusion of medical computing applications. They observed
that the adoption of much of the emerging medical technology was highly influ-
enced by the relationships that physicians form with their mentors and later with
their peers. Rather than the flow of communication and influence being a simple
process of going from opinion leaders to followers, they concluded that the diffu-
sion process involved a network of interconnected individuals who were linked by
patterned flows of information. Diffusion involved a mutual process of information
sharing and influence over time that resulted in relative homogeneity among sub-
groups that were socially integrated. From their study of a large hospital staff with
a MIS, they found that physicians significantly influenced one another’s decisions,
and the physician’s location in the professional network affected other physicians’
perceptions and practice behavior. Physicians in the central location of the profes-
sional network were relied on by their colleagues to provide them with information
on new developments. They concluded that the physician’s position in the consulta-
tion network significantly influenced the rates of adoption and diffusion of new
computer technology [3, 4, 9]. Subsequently, they reported that once physicians
formed initial attitudes and practice patterns involving computer-based clinical
information systems, their attitudes were likely to persist. Their studies indicated
that physicians’ attitudes toward the use of computers for patient care, and the fre-
quency with which the physicians used a MIS in practice were highly stable over a
3-year period [3, 6]. Anderson and associates [5] also demonstrated that influential
physicians could be identified and deliberately used to increase the use of personal
order sets to enter orders into a MIS. Anderson’s group confirmed by many studies
that the successful implementation of clinical computer-based systems depended
heavily upon physicians’ valuation of these systems.
Logan [217] also studied physicians’ attitudes toward MISs and concluded that
MISs would not be useful to many practitioners until the intuitive part of medical
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 139
scans which were reimbursable procedures, and the payment for CT scans by insur-
ers supported their rapid diffusion. Similarly, the diffusion of automated clinical
laboratory analyzers that processed groups of tests was rapid as a result of their
reimbursement of costs by insurers. On the other hand, a programmed battery of
automated multiphasic procedures for health testing was not reimbursed by insurers
in the United States that led to its demise, in contrast to the rapid diffusion of auto-
mated multiphasic health testing in Japan where it was an insured, reimbursable
health care benefit.
In the 1980s some persistent intrinsic medical problems did continue, for exam-
ple, the continuing lack of support for MISs by health care professionals and the
lack of standardization of medical practice and medical information [74]. At the end
of the 1980s there were few MISs operational in the United States that provided the
basic required patient care functions described in Sect. 3.1. In 1988 Childs [57]
listed 40 vendors that in the first four decades of developing MISs, had entered and
then left the business. In 1988, the fifth edition of the Computers in Healthcare
Market Directory listed 750 vendors of computer systems and supplies available to
the health-care industry. In 1989, a vendors’ survey reported 30 vendors for HISs
and applications, 105 vendors for office management and ambulatory systems, and
15 vendors for medical record systems [158]. Childs [56] reported that systems
vendors had done well with the development of some departmental subsystems;
however, few vendors had put their departmental systems together into a fully oper-
ational integrated MIS; and advised that MIS components should all be connected
on-line and operated in real-time so the user perceived a total integrated MIS.
Although federal agencies had as yet done little to coordinate the early develop-
ment of MIS technology, the National Library of Medicine (NLM) in the 1980s
established its Unified Medical Language System (UMLS) and its Integrated
Academic Information Management Systems (IAIMS) programs. At the end of
1989, the Institute of Medicine (IOM) established a Committee to Improve the
Patient Record, recognizing that the patient computer-based record was the core of a
successful MIS. This committee was to examine the problems with existing patients’
medical record systems and to propose actions and research for these systems’
improvement and diffusion in light of new technologies [53]. The IOM published its
recommendations in 1991 [87]. In the 2010s the Federal government initiated its
support of computer-based patient records in physician offices and outpatient clinics
for ambulatory patients. Commercial organizations like EPIC, McKesson and Cerner
began to implement large MISs. By 2012 OISs, HISs, MISs, and MHISs were
becoming commonplace in the United States (see Chaps. 4, 5, and 6).
Every medical care organization had structural and functional requirements for each
organizational level, and the MIS for the total patient care system comprised the
aggregate structures and functions of all of its subsystems. As a result, the higher the
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 141
level of organization, the more complex became its total information system due to
the larger range of structural and functional variations, with an increasing number
of possible connections among information subsystems. That, in turn, permitted the
evolution of higher and more varied forms of MIS structure and function. Thus, the
development of an information system for a hospital was more complicated than
that for a physician’s office or even that for a group of physicians within a clinic.
Similarly, a multi-facility information system for a large medical care organization
that consisted of multiple hospitals and clinics was more complex than an informa-
tion system for a single hospital, especially with regard to its information commu-
nications requirements. It soon became evident that it was necessary to plan carefully
for both the function (that is, what the information system was to do) and the struc-
ture (that is, how the system was to be technically designed and built) to ensure that
all information subsystem modules worked together properly.
Through these decades the goals and objectives evolved for a MIS; and these gen-
erally included the use of computers and communications equipment to collect, store,
process, retrieve, and communicate relevant clinical and administrative information
for all patient care activities and clinical functions within the hospital, its outpatient
clinics, its clinical support services, and any affiliated medical facilities. In addition
to providing administrative and clinical decision support, a MIS needed to have the
capabilities for communicating and integrating all patient data collected during each
patient’s lifetime of care from all the information subsystems in a medical care pro-
gram. Such a MIS also was expected to improve the quality and decrease the cost of
medical services. It was also expected to be flexible enough to scale for increasing
numbers of patients and for expansion of its system components. The overall goal of
every MIS is generally stated to be the improvement of patient care. To accomplish
this goal, MIS users first had to develop detailed requirements for its functionality.
That is, the future users of the MIS had to first define exactly what they wanted the
MIS to do for the users to be able to improve patient care. They then gave these func-
tional requirements to computer technologists, thus permitting these technical experts
to develop a set of design specifications for the MIS and for the computer hardware,
software, and communications that would satisfy the users’ functional requirements.
Then the MIS could be purchased or developed and installed in the medical facility.
Lindberg [214] described the degrees of difficulty for the development of MISs
in the grades of their complexity. The easiest was the automation of a simple func-
tion such as providing a patient’s billing for services. The more difficult was the
automation of a more complex function such as collecting and storing a patient’s
medical history. The very difficult was constructing a very complex function such
as a medical database, and the most difficult was developing the highly complex
medical information and database-management system for a hospital. Starr [312]
had aptly ranked the hospital to be the most complex organizational structure cre-
ated by man. Ball [16] also recognized the complexity of MISs and classified them
according to their functionality:
• Class A MISs were individual stand-alone medical systems that addressed the
specific requirements of single departments or clinical specialties, such as labo-
ratory systems or family practice systems.
142 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
obstetrics and gynecology, for pediatrics, psychiatry, and others; for an intensive
care unit (ICU), an emergency department (ED), and others. Clinical support sys-
tems (CSSs) included the clinical laboratory (LAB), pathology (PATH), radiology
(RAD) and other imaging specialties; electrocardiography (ECG), pharmacy
(PHARM), and other support systems; and all of these provided the essential patient
care services to patients in the offices, clinics, and hospitals. The clinical support
systems (CSSs) were relatively independent functionally, but were essential to the
MIS, In addition, affiliated care facilities might include rehabilitation or nursing
care services [39]. The computer-based electronic patient record (EPR), the basic
information repository for every component of a MIS, has its own functional and
technical requirements. Another critical requirement for a MIS is a communications
network since it is the principal means for initiating, transferring, and completing
much patient care information.
Blois [33] wrote that consideration of the elements underlying the design of
information systems for physicians’ use also had to take into account the nature and
structure of physicians’ personal medical knowledge and the ways in which they
draw upon this in the course of practice, the structure and availability of the sources
which they can draw upon for information, and the technological capabilities (the
“state of the art”) of information support tools. The computer-stored electronic
patient record (EPR) needed to be considered as an essential and most complex
component of a medical information system (MIS). Blum [36, 37] advised that
based on his experience, the distribution of effort in the development of a MIS was
generally 40 % of the effort was for analysis and design, 20 % for implementation, and
then 40 % was for validation and correction of errors and deficiencies of the MIS.
Several approaches evolved for the design of a MIS to satisfy its functional
requirements [251]. The total systems approach was developed in the 1960s and
employed a single integrated computer-stored database with all patient data from
all MIS modules electronically stored in one integrated computer database. Some
duplicate patient data sets and most internal departmental processing data, such
as those generated within the clinical laboratory, usually were still retained for a
limited time in the distributed databases of various MIS sub-system modules. As
the volume and the variety of data in computer-based patient records increased, it
became increasingly difficult to find and retrieve specific items or sets of data
stored in one large central database. The modular systems approach for develop-
ing a MIS evolved in the 1970s with the arrival of low-cost minicomputers that
were followed by even lower-cost microcomputers in the 1980s. Patients’ records
began to be processed and stored in these relatively cheap computers with their
direct random-access disks, resulting in various distributed databases that
required using a distributed database management system [163]. This change
produced the need to collate functionally all of each patient’s data into a single
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 147
Thus in those early decades, most MISs installed separate subsystem modules as
they were developed either in-house or purchased from vendors; and the usual result
was a distributed database system with each module having its own database.
Accordingly, there evolved the need to design such distributed database systems in
which each module could have its own separate database, with the databases for all
modules being connected by a communications network so that a user in one mod-
ule could access any data in any other database in the entire network, as though the
data were all stored in the user’s module. Thereby the system could provide a func-
tionally (virtual or logically) integrated database that constituted the patient’s elec-
tronic record; yet it was not necessarily apparent to the user where the data were
collected or processed. However, every time the same sets of data were requested by
the health care professionals there still remained the problem of transferring, retriev-
ing, and collating all the data for each patient from all the subsystem databases in a
distributed system.
An early example of a software solution to the data integration problem in a
modular MIS was the development of the Massachusetts General Hospital Utility
Multi-Programming System (MUMPS) by Barnett’s group. In 1965 Barnett and
associates reported on the development of a time-sharing, remote-access computer
system with terminals and communications for the use of hospital personnel, pro-
viding access to a computer-based medical record [21, 22]. Barnett described the
integrated MGH system in 1974 as having four functionally equivalent computer
systems on which the various modules were implemented [23]. Since all of these
systems operated under MUMPS, it was not apparent to the user of any application
programs which particular subsystem was being used [24]. Three of these subsys-
tems used Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) PDP-9 machines, and the fourth
used a newer PDP-15. Since Barnett used compatible hardware and software
throughout his MIS, he avoided the problem of interfacing any incompatible
subsystems.
Hammond [140], Stead, and their associates at Duke University developed a
generalized, online, DEC PDP minicomputer-supported information system with a
different software approach. They called their operating system GEMISCH.
GEMISCH was composed of programs which perform specific tasks as defined by
the tables. User programming consisted of the creation of appropriate tables
entered through an interactive editing and file-handling system. The user-oriented
source files were converted into machine-oriented operating files, and these
operating files were combined with the system programs to form a GEMISCH
operating system. Another example of the cumulative modular approach in an
organization that installed information subsystems, one at a time; and then connected
them together with a communications network that integrated patient databases to
provide a usable patient record, was in the MIS developed at the Johns Hopkins
Hospital.
It soon became evident that if MISs were to be used efficiently and were to be
acceptable to health care professionals, they needed to include an integrating data-
base management system that could generate an integrated patient record.
150 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
Most early MISs had been implemented either by the installation of separate
modules that had been developed in-house or by the purchasing of acceptable
vendor-provided modules. The usual result was a distributed data processing sys-
tem, with each module having its own database. There evolved the need to design
distributed database systems in which each module could have its own separate
database, with the databases for all modules connected by a communications net-
work so that a user in one module could access any data in the entire network
exactly as though the data were all stored in the user’s module. Thereby the system
could provide a functionally (virtual or logically) integrated database output that
constituted the patient record, yet it would not necessarily be apparent to the user
where the data were collected or processed. Even though most users of such a dis-
tributed MIS would be unaware of whether the clinical information system was
distributed or integrated, there still remained the problem of transferring, retrieving,
and collating all the data for each patient from all the databases in a distributed
system every time the same sets of data were requested by the health care profes-
sionals. If MISs were to be efficient and acceptable to health care professionals, it
soon became evident that distributed databases needed an integrating database man-
agement system that could generate an integrated patient database. Such a system
required that all patient data be entered into the MIS only once, even though some
data might be replicated in different subsystem files (such as was required for the
patient identification data) and all data for one patient could be retrieved by a physi-
cian in any desired collated format from one terminal in any module of the MIS,
even though the data had been collected in several subsystem modules.
To permit the integration of information among all of its subsystems, a MIS also
required some degree of standardization of the data terms in its database. Although
standardization could decrease information content by discouraging richness of lan-
guage variations, it clearly facilitated information transfer and communication.
Individual departments within a hospital often had unique internal information pro-
cessing requirements (such as for the processing of tests and procedures in the dif-
ferent laboratories), and these had to be accommodated. A standard data dictionary,
a meta-database, also became necessary to define data elements entered in the com-
mon database with validation rules for accepting new terms as they were continually
added by innovations in medicine.
In the 1950s the clinical data in the medical records of patients in the United States
were mostly recorded in natural, English language. This process was commonly
done by physicians when recording their notes on paper sheets clipped in the
patient’s chart. Data recording was for the patient’s medical history and physical
examination, for reporting specialists’ interpretations of x-ray images and electro-
cardiograms, and for the dictated descriptions of special medical and surgical
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 151
each other in a sentence, such as when searching for strings of words such as “mitral
stenosis and aortic insufficiency”, where the importance of the ordering of these
words is evident since the string, “mitral insufficiency and aortic stenosis”, has a
very different meaning. Similarly, the phrase “time flies for house flies” made sense
only when one knew that the word “flies” was first a verb and then a noun.
Inconsistent spelling and typographic errors also caused problems with word
searches made by a computer program that exactly matched letter-by-letter. Pryor
[280] also observed that the aggregate of data collected by many different health-
care professionals provided the basic information stored in a primary clinical data-
base and to accurately reflect their accumulated experience required that all of their
observations had to be categorized and recorded in a consistent and standardized
manner for all patients’ visits. To facilitate the retrieval of desired medical data,
Pryor advocated that a clinical database needed to incorporate a coded data-entry
format. Johnson [170] also considered structured data-entry and data-retrieval to be
basic tools for computer-assisted documentation that would allow a physician to
efficiently select and retrieve from a patient’s record all data relevant to the patient’s
clinical problems; and also to be able to retrieve supplementary data from other
sources that could be helpful in the clinical-decision process; and to be able to enter
into the computer any newly acquired data, and then generate a readable report.
Sager and associates [292–295, 297], at New York University made substantial
contributions to natural language processing (NLP) in the late 1970s when they
initiated their Linguistic String Project (LSP) that extracted and converted the
natural language, free-text narrative from patients’ medical records into a structured
database. They also addressed the problem of developing a query program for
retrieval requests sent to the database. Story [314] described the LSP’s early
approach to NLP as first recognizing the time-dated information such as dates and
times of clinical events found in the text of patients’ hospital discharge summaries
and then computing from that information the ordering of the times of the recorded
medical events. For example, data used in patients’ discharge summaries included
birth dates, admission and discharge dates, dates and times of any recorded patients’
symptoms, signs, and other important clinical events. Sager [292, 295] further
described their LSP process for converting the uncoded natural-language text that
was found in patients’ hospital discharge summaries into a structured relational
database. In a relational database, the query process had to search several tables in
order to complete the full retrieval. So for a query such as, “Find all patients with a
positive chest x-ray”, the program executed a query on one table to find the patients’
identification numbers and then another query on another table to find those patients
reported to have positive chest x-ray reports. Whereas earlier attempts at automating
encoding systems for text dealt with phrases that were matched with terms in a
dictionary, this group first performed a syntactic analysis of the input data, and
then mapped the analyzed sentences into a tabular format arrangement of syntactic
segments in which the segments were labeled according to their medical informa-
tion content. Using a relational structured database, in their information-format
table, the rows corresponded to the successive statements in the documents and
the columns in the tables corresponded to the different types of information in
154 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
the statements. Thus their LSP automatic-language processor parsed each sentence
and broke the sentence into syntactic components such as subject-verb-object. They
then divided the narrative segments into six statement types: general medical man-
agement, treatment, medication, test and result, patient state, and patient behavior;
and it then transformed the statements into a structured tabular format. This trans-
formation of the record was suitable for their database-management system, and it
simplified the retrieval of a textual record that when queried was transformed back
to the users in a narrative form.
Sager [299] described in some detail their later approach to converting unstruc-
tured free-text patient data by relationships of medical-fact types or classes (such as
body parts, tests, treatments, and others); and by subtypes or sub-classes (such as
arm, blood glucose, medications, and others. Their LSP information-formatting
program identified and organized the free text by syntactic analysis using standard
methods of sentence decomposition and then mapped the free-text into a linguisti-
cally structured, knowledge base for querying. The results of tests for information
precision and information recall of their LSP system were better than 92 % when
compared to manual processing. In 1985 they reported that their medical-English
lexicon that gave for each word its English and medical classification which then
numbered about 8,000 words [220]. Sager (1986) reported that they had applied
their methods of linguistic analysis to a considerable body of clinical narrative that
included patients’ initial histories, clinic visit reports, radiology and pathology
reports, and hospital discharge summaries. They successfully tested their approach
for automatic encoding of narrative text in the Head-and-Neck Cancer Database
maintained at that time at the Roswell Park Memorial Institute. Sager [299] reported
their LSP had been applied to a test set of asthma patients’ health-care documents.
When subjected to a SQL retrieval program, the retrieval results averaged for major
errors only 1.4 %, and averaged 7.5 % for major omissions. Sager [298] further
reported using Web processing software to retrieve medical documents from the
Web, and by using software based on Standard Generalized Markup Language
(SGML) and Hypertext Markup Language (HTML), they coupled text markup with
highlighted displays of retrieved medical documents.
McCray [228] at the National Library of Medicine (NLM) described the medical
lexicon as the embodiment of information about medical terms and language, and it
served as the foundation for natural language processing (NLP). McCray proposed
that the domain knowledge combined with lexical information and sophisticated
linguistic analysis could lead to improved representation and retrieval of biomedical
information and facilitate the development of NLP. McCray et al. [230] studied the
nature of strings of words found in the NLM’s UMLS Metathesaurus and studied
their usefulness in searching articles in the NLM’s MEDLINE database. Their stud-
ies indicated that the longer the string of words, for example more than four words,
the less likely it would be found in the body of the text and therefore less likely to
be useful in natural language processing. Grams [135] reviewed the design specifi-
cations for databases that stored natural language text (including graphs, images,
and other forms of non-digital information that were collected from reference
sources such as journals and text books), and could display the requested information
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 155
in a user friendly, natural language format. Grams concluded that such a database
required a companion meta-database that defined terms, and provided a thesaurus
for data that was acquired from different sources. Carol Friedman [105], after many
years of work developing a natural language processing (NLP) system, concluded
that although encoded medical data was necessary for its accurate retrieval, much of
the data in patients’ records were recorded in a textual form that was extremely
diverse. The meanings of words varied depending on its context, and the patients’
records were usually not readily retrievable. So efficient NLP systems were essen-
tial for processing textual data, but these systems were very difficult to develop.
They required substantial amounts of relevant knowledge for each clinical domain
in which they were employed.
Friedman et al. [102, 107, 108] reviewed and classified some of the approaches
to NLP developed in the 1980s. They classified NLP systems according to their
linguistic knowledge:
• Pattern matching or keyword-based systems that were variations of the keyword-
in-context approach in which the text was scanned by the computer for combina-
tions of medical words and phrases, such as medical diagnoses or procedures and
used algorithms to match those in a terminology or vocabulary index, and, when
identified, would be translated automatically into standard codes. These were
relatively simple to implement but relied only on patterns of key words, so rela-
tionships between words in a sentence could not readily be established. This
approach was useful in medical specialties that used relatively highly structured
text and clinical sub-languages, such as in pathology and radiology.
• Script-based systems combined keywords and scripts of a description or of a
knowledge representation of an event that might occur in a clinical situation.
• Syntactic systems parsed each sentence in the text, identified which words were
nouns, verbs, and others, and noted their locations in the sequence of words in
the sentence. These were considered to be minimal semantic systems, where
some knowledge of language was used such as syntactic parts of speech. So
simple relationships in a noun phrase might be established but relationships
between different noun phrases could not be determined, and it would require a
lexicon that contained syntactic word categories and a method that recognized
non-phrases.
• Semantic systems added definitions, synonyms, meanings of terms and phrases,
and concepts. Semantic grammars could combine frames to provide more
domain-specific information. Semantic systems used knowledge about the
semantic properties of words and relied on rules that mapped words with specific
semantic properties into a semantic model that had some knowledge of the
domain and could establish relationships among words based on semantic prop-
erties and could be appropriate for highly structured text that contained simple
sentences.
• Syntactic and semantic systems included stages of both of these processes and
used both semantic and syntactic information and rules to establish relationships
among words in a document based on their semantic and syntactic properties.
156 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
then provided links to related terms. The second, Query by Review, used a knowl-
edge base structured as a simple hierarchy; and provided a browser that allowed a
user to move to the target terms by a series of menus. Hripcsak compared the recall
and precision rates of these two programs to gather the vocabulary terms necessary
to perform selected laboratory queries, and reported that Query by Review per-
formed somewhat better than AccessMed but neither was adequate for clinical
work.
Friedman and associates [106, 110, 111] at Columbia University in New York
made substantial contributions to natural language processing (NLP) with the devel-
opment of their Medical Language Extraction and Encoding (MedLEE) system that
became operational in 1995 at Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center (CPMC).
Their NLP program was written in a Prolog language that could run on various
platforms and was developed at CPMC as a general purpose NLP system. Friedman
described the MedLEE system as composed of functionally different, modular com-
ponents (or phases), that in a series of steps each component processed the text and
generated an output used by the subsequent component. The first component – the
preprocessor – delineated the different sections in the report, separated the free-
form textual data from any formatted data, used rules to determine word and sen-
tence boundaries, resolved abbreviations, and performed a look-up in a lexicon to
find words and phrases in the sentences that were required for the next parsing
phase. It then generated an output that consisted of lists of sentences and corre-
sponding lexical definitions. The parser phase then used the lexical definitions to
determine the structure of each sentence, and the parser’s sentence-grammar then
specified its syntactic and semantic structures. The phrase-regularization compo-
nent then regularized the terms in the sentence, re-composed multi-word terms that
had been separated, and then contiguous and non-contiguous lexical variants were
mapped to standard forms. The last phase – the encoder – associated and mapped
the regularized terms to controlled vocabulary concepts by querying the synonym
knowledge base in their Medical Entities Dictionary (MED) for compatible terms.
MED served as their controlled vocabulary that was used in automated mapping of
medical vocabularies to the NLM’s Unified Medical Language System [101, 342].
MED was their knowledge base of medical concepts that consisted of taxonomic
and other relevant semantic relations. After using MED’s synonym knowledge base,
the regularized forms were translated into unique concepts, so that when the final
structured forms of the processed reports were uploaded to their Medical Center’s
centralized patient database, they corresponded to the unique concepts in their
MED. The output of the structured encoded form was then suitable for further pro-
cessing and interfacing, and could be structured in a variety of formats, including
reproducing the original extracted data as it was before encoding, or presented in an
XML output, that with Markup language could highlight selected data. In their
Medical Center the output was translated into an HL7 format and transferred into its
relational medical database. All computer applications at their Medical Center could
then reliably access the data by queries that used the structured form and the con-
trolled vocabulary of their MED. Hripcsak et al. [162] evaluated the performance of
the MedLEE system for 200 patients with six different medical diagnoses and who
158 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
each had chest x-rays. They found that their NLP system’s final performance report
was the same as that of the radiologists.
Friedman [112] reported extending a WEB interface to MedLEE by using a
WEB browser, or by direct access for processing patients’ records using their
Uniform Resource Locator (URL). She and her associates [107, 108] described fur-
ther development of the MedLEE system as one that analyzed the structure of an
entire sentence by using a grammar that consisted of patterns of well-formed syn-
tactic and semantic categories. It processed sentences by defining each word and
phrase in the sentence in accordance with their grammar program. It then segmented
the entire sentence at certain types of words or phrases defined as classes of findings
that could include medical problems, laboratory tests, medications, and other terms
which were consistent with their grammar. Next, it then defined as modifiers, quali-
fiers and values such items as the patient’ age, the body site, the test value, and other
descriptors. For the first word or phrase in a segment that was associated with a
primary finding that was identified in their grammar, an attempt was made to ana-
lyze the part of the segment starting with the left-most modifier (or value) of the
primary finding. This process was continued until a complete analysis of the seg-
ment was obtained. After a segment was successfully analyzed, the remaining seg-
ments in the sentence were processed by applying this same method to each segment.
The process of segmenting and analyzing was repeated until an analysis of every
segment in each entire sentence was completed. Friedman [108] described some
additional changes to MedLEE system that allowed five modes of processing:
• The initial segment included the entire sentence, and all words and multi-word
phrases needed to be arranged into a well-formed pattern;
• The sentence was then segmented at certain types of words or phrases, and the
process was repeated until an analysis of each segment was obtained;
• An attempt was made to identify a well-formed pattern for the largest prefix of
the segment;
• Undefined words were skipped; and
• The first word or phrase in the segment associated with a primary finding was
identified. The left-most modifier of the finding was added, and the remaining
portion was processed using the same method.
The MedLEE system was initially applied to the radiology department where
radiologists were interpreting their x-ray reports for about 1,000 patients per day.
The radiologists dictated their reports that were generally well structured and com-
posed mostly of natural-language text. The dictated reports were transcribed and
entered into their Radiology Information System and then transferred into the clini-
cal database of their Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center (CPMC) Clinical
Information System. The automated reports of 230 chest x-rays were randomly
selected and checked by two physicians and showed a recall rate of 70 % and a
precision of 87 % for four specified medical conditions. In another evaluation of
more than 3,000 sentences, 89 % were parsed successfully for recall, and 98 % were
considered accurate based on the judgment of an independent medical expert.
Friedman [108] also reported that most medical NLP systems could encode textual
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 159
For a randomly selected set of 150 sentences, MedLEE had recall and precision
rates comparable to those for six clinical experts. Xu and Friedman [338] described
the steps they used with MedLEE for processing pathology reports for patients with
cancer:
• Identify the information in each section, such as the section called specimen;
• Identify the findings needed for their research project;
• Analyze the sentences containing the findings, and then extend MedLEE’s gen-
eral schema to include representing their structure;
• Adapt MedLEE so that it would recognize their new types of information which
were primarily genotypic concepts and create new lexical entrees;
• Transform the reports into a format that MedLEE could process more accurately,
such as when a pathology report included multiple specimens it was necessary to
link reports to their appropriate specimen. To minimize the modifications to
MedLEE, a preprocessing program was also developed to perform this function.
• Develop a post-processing program to transform the data needed for a cancer
registry.
Cimino [64] described a decade of use of MED for clinical applications of
knowledge-based terminologies to all services in their medical center, including
clinical specialty subsystems. Cao [51] reported the application of the MedLEE
system in a trial to generate a patient’s problem list from the clinical discharge sum-
maries that had been dictated by physicians for a set of nine patients, randomly
selected from their hospital files. The discharge summary reports were parsed by the
MedLEE system and then transformed to text knowledge-representation structures
in XML format that served as input to the system. All the findings that belonged to
the preselected semantic types were then extracted, and these findings were weighted
based on the frequency and the semantic type. A problem list was then prepared as
an output. A review by clinical experts found that for each patient the system cap-
tured more than 95 % of the diagnoses and more that 90 % of the symptoms and
findings associated with the diagnoses.
Bakken and associates [14] reported the use of MedLEE for narrative nurses’
reports, and compared the semantic categories of MedLEE with the semantic cate-
gories of the International Standards Organization (ISO) reference terminology
models for nursing diagnoses and nursing actions. They found that all but two
MedLEE diagnosis and procedure-related semantic categories could be mapped to
ISO models, and suggested areas for extension of MedLEE. Nielson and Wilson
[256] at the University of Utah reported developing an application that modified
MedLEE’s parser that, at the time, required sophisticated rules to interpret its struc-
tured output. MedLEE parsed a text document into a series of observations with
associated modifiers and modifier values. The observations were then organized
into sections corresponding to the sections of the document. The result was an XML
document of observations linked to the corresponding text. Manual rules were writ-
ten to parse the XML structure and to correlate the observations into meaningful
clinical observations. Their application employed a rule engine developed by
domain experts to automatically create rules for knowledge extraction from textual
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 161
documents. It allowed the user to browse through the raw text of the parsed docu-
ment, select phrases in the narrative text, and then it dynamically created rules to
find the corresponding observations in the parsed document.
Zhou [346] used MedLEE to develop a medical terminology model for surgical
pathology reports. They collected almost 900,000 surgical pathology reports that
contained more than 104,000 unique terms. The model that had two major patterns
for reporting procedures beginning with either ‘bodyloc’ (body location) or ‘prob-
lem.’ They concluded that a NLP system like MedLEE provided an automated
method for extracting semantic structures from a large body of free text and reduced
the burden for human developers of medical terminologies for medical domains.
Chen et al. [54] reported a modification in the structured output from MedLEE from
a nested structured output into a simpler tabular format that was expected to be more
suitable for some uses such as spreadsheets.
Lussier et al. [219] reported using BioMedLEE system, an adaptation of MedLEE
that focuses on extracting and structuring biomedical entities and relations includ-
ing phenotypic and genotypic information in biomedical literature. This application
was used for automatically processing text in order to map contextual phenotypes to
the Gene Ontology Annotations (GOA) database that facilitates semantic computa-
tions for the functions, cellular components and processes of genes [223]. Lussier
described the PhenoGo system that can automatically augment annotations in the
GOA with additional context by using BioMedLEE and an additional knowledge-
based organizer called PhenOS in conjunction with MeSH indexing and established
biomedical ontologies. PhenoGo was evaluated for coding anatomical and cellular
information and for assigning the coded phenotypes to the correct GOA PhenoGo
was found to have a precision rate of 91 % and a recall rate of 92 %.
Chen et al. [55] also described using MedLEE and BioMedLEE to produce a set
of primary findings (such as medical diagnoses, procedures, devices, medications)
with associated modifiers (such as body sites, changes, frequencies). Since NLP
systems had been used for knowledge acquisition because of their ability to rapidly
and automatically extract medical entities and findings, relations and modifiers
within textual documents, they described their use of both NLP systems for mining
textual data for drug-disease associations in MEDLINE articles and in patients’
hospital discharge summaries. They focused on searching the textual data for eight
diseases that represented a range of diseases and body sites and for any strong asso-
ciations between these diseases and their prescribed drugs. BioMedLEE was used
to encode entities and relations within the titles and abstracts of almost 82,000
MEDLINE articles, and MedLEE was used to extract clinical information from
more than 48,000 discharge summaries. They compared the rates of specific drug-
disease associations (such as levodopa for Parkinson’s disease) found in both text
sources. They concluded that the two text sources complemented each other since
the literature focused on testing therapies for relatively long time-spans, whereas
discharge summaries focused on current practices of drug uses. They also concluded
that they had demonstrated the feasibility of the automated acquisition of medical
knowledge from both biomedical literature and from patients’ records. Wang and
associates [323] described using MedLEE to test for symptom-disease associations
162 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
was the starting point for HL7 interface standards for transmitting data between
applications in hospital information systems. The message content of HL7 con-
forms to the International Standards Organization (ISO) standards for the applica-
tions level seven of the Open Systems Interconnection (OSI) model, and hence its
name. The HL7 Version 2 family of standards was influenced by the ASTM 1238
Standard. Version 2 standards use the same message syntax, the same data types,
and some of the same segment definitions as ASTM 1238 [232–234].
HL7 expanded its activities in the 1990 and became an ANSI-accredited
Standards Developing Organizations (SDOs). HL7 has collaborated with other
SDOs to develop standards, specifications and protocols for the interoperability of
hospitals clinical and administrative functions. HL7 created its Reference
Information Model (HL7 RIM) in 1995 as a basis for developing model-based
Version 3 standards. The goal was to provide improved standard vocabulary speci-
fications for the interoperability of healthcare information systems and improved
representation of semantic, syntactic and lexical aspects of HL7 messages. Bakken
[14] described some activities of the HL7 Vocabulary Activity Committee related to
vocabulary domain specifications for HL7-coded data elements and for its guidance
in developing and registering terminology and vocabulary domain specifications
including those for HL7 RIM. In 2004 HL7 released its draft standards for the elec-
tronic medical record that included direct care functions, including care manage-
ment and clinical decision support; supportive care functions, including clinical
support, research, administrative and financial functions; and information infra-
structure functions of data security and records management [97]. Benson [29] pro-
vides a detailed history of the development of HL7.
Medical terminologies are systemized collections of terms used in medicine to
assist a person in communicating with a computer. They require developing and
using standard definitions of [266, 319]:
• terms that are units of formal language such as words or numbers;
• entities that are units of reality, such as human body sites, population groups, or
components of a system or of an organization such as the radiology department
in a hospital;
• codes that are units of partitions, groups of words, letters, numbers, or symbols
that represent specific items, such as medical diagnoses or procedures;
• nominal phrases that are units of natural language; and
• concepts that are representations of thoughts formed in the mind, that are mental
constructs or representations of combined things, objects, or thoughts.
Chute [62] reviewed in some detail the evolution of healthcare terminologies
basic to medical encoding systems and how its history went back several centuries.
Current terminologies and methods for encoding medical diagnoses and etiologies,
and procedures began in the 1940s by the World Health Organization (WHO), who
undertook the classifying and codifying of disease diagnoses by systematic assign-
ment of related diagnostic terms to classes or groups. The WHO took over from the
French the classification system they had adopted in 1893 that was based primarily
on body site and etiology of diseases [95].
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 165
Current Procedural Terminology (CPT) was first published in 1967 with a four-
digit coding system for identifying medical procedures and services primarily for
the payment of medical claims. It was soon revised and expanded to five-digit codes
to facilitate the frequent addition of new procedures [94]. Subsequently, the
American Medical Association provided frequent revisions of CPT, and in the 1970s
and 1980s, CPT-4 was the most widely accepted system of standardized descriptive
terms and codes for reporting physician-provided procedures and services under
government and private health-insurance programs. In 1989 the Health Care
Financing Organization (HCFA) began to require every physician’s claim for pay-
ment of services provided to patients seen in medical offices to include ICD-9-CM
codes for diagnoses, and to report CPT-4 codes for procedures and services [286].
The Standard Nomenclature of Diseases and Operations (SNDO), a compilation
of standard medical terms, by their meaning or by some logical relationship such as
by diseases or operations, was developed by the New York Academy of Medicine
and was published by the American Medical Association in 1933. It was used in
most hospitals in the United States for three decades. SNDO listed medical condi-
tions in two dimensions: by anatomic site or topographic category (for example,
body as a whole, skin, respiratory, cardiovascular, etc.) and by etiology or cause (for
example, due to prenatal influence, due to plant or parasite, due to intoxication, due
to trauma by physical agent, etc.). The two-dimensional SNDO was not sufficiently
flexible to satisfy clinical needs; its last (5th edition) was published in 1961.
The Systemized Nomenclature of Pathologists (SNOP), a four-dimensional
nomenclature intended primarily for use by pathologists, was developed by a group
within the American College of Pathologists led by Wells and was first published in
1965. SNOP coded medical terms into four TMEF categories: Topography (T) for
the body site affected; Morphology (M) for the structural changes observed;
Etiology (E) for the cause of the disease; and Function (F) for the abnormal changes
in physiology [329].
Thus a patient with lung cancer who smoked cigarettes and had episodes of
shortness of breath at night would be assigned the following string of SNOP terms:
T2600 M8103 (bronchus, carcinoma); E6927 (tobacco-cigarettes); F7103 (paroxys-
mal nocturnal dyspnea) [276]. Complete, as well as multiple, TMEF statements
were considered to be necessary for pathologists’ purposes [133]. The result of these
applications was the translation of medical text into the four fields (T, M, E, and F)
as listed in the SNOP dictionary. The successful use of SNOP by pathologists
encouraged Cote, Gantner, and others to expand SNOP to attempt to encompass all
medical specialties. In the 1960s pathologists generally adopted the use of SNOP, as
it was well suited for coding data for computer entry when using punched cards. In
the 1970s it was the basis for the development of computer programs to permit
automatic SNOP encoding of pathology terms [273, 274, 276].
The Systemized Nomenclature of Medicine (SNOMED) was first published in
1977 (SNOMED 1977). In addition to SNOP’s four fields of Topography (T),
Morphology (M), Etiology (E), and Function (F), SNOMED contained three more
fields: Disease (D) for classes of diseases, complex disease entities, and syndromes,
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 167
which made SNOMED as suitable for statistical reporting as the ICD; Procedure (P)
for diagnostic, therapeutic, preventive, or administrative procedures; and Occupation
(O) for the patient’s occupational and industrial hazards [77, 124].
Some reports compared SNOMED and ICD and advocated SNOMED as being
superior for the purposes of medical care and clinical research, since ICD was
designed primarily for statistical reporting and its codes were often too general to
identify specific patient problems. In addition SNOMED defined the logical con-
nections between the categories of data contained in the final coded statement; and
SNOMED codes could be used to generate ICD codes, but not vice versa [134].
The Systemized Nomenclature of Medicine Reference Terminology
(SNOMED-RT) was also developed by the College of American Pathologists (CAP)
to serve as a common reference terminology for the aggregation and retrieval of
health care information that had been recorded by multiple individuals and organi-
zations [313]. Dolin [89] described the SNOMED-RT Procedure Model as provid-
ing an advanced hierarchical structure with poly-hierarchies representing
super-types and sub-types relationships; and that included clinical actions and
healthcare services, such as surgical and invasive procedures, courses of therapy,
history taking, physical examinations, tests of all kinds, monitoring, administrative
and financial services.
SNOMED Clinical Terms (SNOMED-CT) was developed in 1999 when the
similarities were recognized between SNOMED-RT and the National Health
Service of the United Kingdom that had developed its own Clinical Terms Version 3
that evolved from the Read Codes CTV3. SNOMED-CT is a comprehensive multi-
lingual medical terminology for atomic sites, organisms, chemicals, symptoms,
diagnoses, and other such concepts. Spackman [309] reported on 3 years’ use of this
clinical terminology and described changes in SNOMED-CT that included remov-
ing duplicate terms, improving logic definitions, and revising conceptual relation-
ships. The Lister Hill Center of the National Library of Medicine (NLM) identified
a subset of the most frequently used problem list terms in SNOMED-CT and pub-
lished it as the Clinical Observations Recording and Encoding List (CORE) Subset
of SNOMED CT. The CORE Problem List Subset is updated four times a year, and
in 2012 contained about 6,000 concepts (NLM Problems and Services 2012).
Problems with inconsistencies in the various medical terminologies soon became
apparent. Ward [324] described the need for associations of health care organiza-
tions to be able to maintain a common database of uniformly coded health outcomes
data; and reported the development of the Health Outcomes Institute (HOI) with
their uniquely coded, medical data elements. In 2004 the National Health Information
Infrastructure (NHII) was initiated to attempt to standardize information for patients’
electronic medical records (EMRs). It recommended the standard terminologies for
EMRs to be the Systemized Nomenclature of Medicine (SNOMED), and the
Logical Observation Identifiers Names and Codes (LOINC). The National Cancer
Institute (NCI) developed the Common Data Elements (CDEs) to define the data
required for research in oncology [259].
The convergence of medical terminologies became an essential requirement for
linking multiple databases from different sources that used different coding termi-
168 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
nologies. In 1960 Medical Subject Headings (MeSH) vocabulary file was initiated
by the National Library of Medicine (NLM) to standardize its indexing of medical
terms and to facilitate the use of its search and retrieval programs. MeSH was devel-
oped primarily for the use of librarians for indexing the NLM’s stored literature
citations, and was NLM’s way of meeting the problem of variances in medical ter-
minology by instituting its own standard, controlled vocabulary. However, MeSH
was not designed to serve as a vocabulary for the data in patients’ medical records.
MeSH is a highly structured thesaurus consisting of a standard set of terms and
subject headings that are arranged in both an alphabetical and a categorical struc-
ture, with categories further subdivided into subcategories; and within each subcat-
egory the descriptors are arranged hierarchically. MeSH is the NLM’s authority list
of technical terms used for indexing biomedical journal articles, cataloging books,
and for bibliographic search of the NLM’s computer-based citation file.
In 1987 the NLM initiated the development of a convergent medical terminology
with its Unified Medical Language System (UMLS) that included a Semantic
Network of interrelated semantic classes and a Metathesaurus of interrelated con-
cepts and names that supported linking data from multiple sources. UMLS attempted
to compensate for differences in terminology among different systems such as
MeSH, CMIT, SNOP, SNOMED, and ICD. UMLS was not planned to form a single
convergent vocabulary but rather to unify terms from a variety of standardized
vocabularies and codes for the purpose of improving bibliographic literature
retrieval, and to provide standardized data terms for computer-based information.
Humphreys [164, 165], at NLM, described UMLS as a major NLM initiative
designed to facilitate the retrieval and integration of information from many
machine-readable information sources, including the biomedical literature, factual
databases, and knowledge bases. Cimino and Barnett [66] studied the problem of
translating medical terms between four different controlled terminologies: NLM’s
MeSH, International Classification of Diseases (ICD-9), Current Procedural
Terminology (CPT-4), and the Systemized Nomenclature of Medicine (SNOMED).
When a user needed to translate a free-text term from one terminology to another,
the free-text term was entered into one system that then presented its list of con-
trolled terms, and the user selected the most correct term. If the user did not recog-
nize any of the presented terms as a correct translation then the user could try again.
It was recognized that an automatic translation process would be preferable for the
conversion of terms from one system to another. They created a set of rules to con-
struct a standard way of representing a medical term that denoted semantic features
of the term by establishing it as an instance of a class, or even more specifically of
a subclass that inherited all of the required properties. They developed an algorithm
that compared matches of a subset of terms for the category of “procedures,” and
reported that matches from ICD-9 to the other terminologies appeared to be “good”
45 % of the time, and that when a match was “suboptimal” (55 % of the time) the
reason was that ICD-9 did not contain an appropriate matching term. They con-
cluded that the development of a common terminology would be desirable.
Cimino [96] and associates at Columbia University also addressed some of the
inconsistencies in terms in different terminologies, and emphasized the necessity
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 169
for a controlled, common medical terminology that was capable of linking and con-
verging data from medical applications in different hospital departmental services,
from different patient-record systems, and also from knowledge-based systems and
from medical literature databases. They proposed as criteria for a controlled medi-
cal terminology:
• domain completeness, so it did not restrict the depth or breadth of the
hierarchy;
• non-redundancy, to prevent multiple terms being added for the same concept;
• synonymy, to support multiple non-unique names for concepts;
• non-vagueness, each concept must be complete in its meaning;
• non-ambiguity, each concept must have exactly one meaning;
• multiple classification, so that a concept can be assigned to as many classes as
required;
• consistency of views, in that concepts in multiple classes must have the same
attributes in each concept; and
• explicit relationships, in that meanings of inter-concept relationships must be
clear.
Cimino [65] further added that it was desirable that controlled medical vocabu-
laries should:
• provide an expandable vocabulary content;
• be able to quickly add new terms as they arise;
• be able to change with the evolution of medical knowledge;
• consider the unit of symbolic processing to be the concept, that is the embodi-
ment of a particular meaning;
• have terms that must correspond to only one meaning and meanings must cor-
respond to only one term;
• have the meaning of a concept be permanent, but its name can change when, for
example, a newer version of the vocabulary is developed; and
• have hierarchical structures, and although a single hierarchy is more manage-
able, polyhierarchies may be allowed;
• support that multipurpose vocabularies may require different levels of granular-
ity; and
• allow synonyms of terms, but redundancy, such as multiple ways to code a term,
should be avoided.
Cimino [63, 65, 67] applied their criteria for a convergent terminology to their
Medical Entities Dictionary (MED) that they developed for their centralized clinical
information system at Columbia University. MED included subclassification sys-
tems for their ancillary clinical services, including the clinical laboratory, pharmacy,
and electrocardiography. MED was a MUMPS-based, hierarchical data structure,
with a vocabulary browser and a knowledge base. Since classes of data provided
within their ancillary systems were inadequate for the MED hierarchy for both the
multiple classification criteria and for its use in clinical applications, a subclassifica-
tion function was added to create new classes of concepts. By the mid-1990s MED
170 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
contained 32,767 concepts; and it had encoded 6 million procedures and test results
for more than 300,000 patients.
Mays and associates [224] at the IBM Watson Research Center in Yorktown
Heights, New York, described their K-Rep system based on description logic (DL)
that considered its principal objects of representation to be concepts, such as labora-
tory tests, diagnostic procedures, and others; and that concepts could include sub-
concepts, such as the concept of a chemistry test could include the sub-concept of a
serum sodium test, and thereby enabled an increased scalability of concepts. They
considered conceptual scalability to be an enhancement of system scalability; and
their strategy allowed multiple developers to concurrently work on overlapping por-
tions of the terminology in independent databases. Oliver and associates [264, 265]
reported the formation of the InterMed Collaboratory that consisted of a group of
medical informaticians with experience in medical terminology with the objective
of developing a common model for controlled medical vocabularies.
A collaborative group from the Mayo Clinic, Kaiser Permanente, and Stanford
University developed Convergent Medical Terminology in the late 1990s. The
objective was to achieve a convergence of some different existing terminologies to
better support the development of informatics applications and to facilitate the
exchange of data using different terminologies. They had found that some medical
terminologies, such as SNOMED International and ICD-9-CM, used a hierarchical
structure that organized the concepts into type hierarchies that were limiting since
they lacked formal definitions for the terms in the systems and did not sufficiently
define what a term represented or how one term differed from another [48]. Building
on the experience with the K-Rep system described by Mays [224], they developed
a convergent medical terminology they called Galapagos that could take a collection
of applications from multiple sites and identify and reconcile conflicting designs
and also develop updates tailored specifically for compatibility with locally
enhanced terminologies. Campbell and colleagues [49] further reported their appli-
cations of Galapagos for concurrent evolutionary enhancements of SNOMED
International at three Kaiser Permanente (KP) regions and at the Mayo Clinic. They
found their design objectives had been met, and Galapagos supported semantic-
based concurrency control and identified and resolved conflicting decisions in
design. Dolin [88] and associates at KP described the Convergent Medical
Terminology as having a core comprised of SNOMED-CT, laboratory LOINC, and
First DataBank drug terminology, all integrated into a poly-hierarchical structured,
knowledge base of concepts with logic-based definitions imported from the source
terminologies. In 2004 Convergent Medical Terminology was implemented in KP
enterprise-wide and served as the common terminology across all KP computer-
based applications for its 8.4 million members in the United States. Convergent
Medical Terminology served as the definitive source of concept definitions for the
KP organization. It provided a consistent structure and access method to all com-
puter codes used by KP, with its inter-operability and cross-mappings to all KP
ancillary subsystems. In 2010 KP donated the Convergent Medical Terminology to
the National Library of Medicine for its free access.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 171
Chute and associates [61] introduced the notion of a terminology server that
would mediate translations among concepts shared across disparate terminologies.
They had observed a major problem with a clinical terminology server that was used
by clinicians to enter patient data from different clinical services was that they were
prone to use lexical variants of words that might not match their corresponding
representations within the nomenclature. Chute added as desirable requirements for
a convergent medical terminology:
• word normalization by a normalization and lexical variant-generator code that
replaced clinical jargon and completed abbreviated words and terms,
• target terminology specifications for supporting other terminologies, such as
SNOMED-RT or ICD-9-CM, that were used by the enterprise,
• spell-checking and correction,
• lexical matching of words against a library of indexed words,
• semantic locality by making visible closely related terms or concepts,
• term composition that brought together modifiers or qualifiers and a kernel con-
cept, and
• term decomposition that broke apart complex phrases into atomic components.
Encoding text greatly simplified the search and retrieval of textual data that was
otherwise done by matching letters and numbers; so when English language terms
were replaced by numerical codes, then the textual data could be represented and
entered into the computer in a readable, compact, and consistent format. The disad-
vantages of encoding natural language terms were that users had to be familiar with
the coding system, codes had a tendency to reduce the flexibility and richness of
textual data and to stereotype the information, and codes required updating and revi-
sions for new terms or they could become obsolete [283, 284]. Yet the process of
coding was an important early method used for natural language processing (NLP);
and manual encoding methods often used special-purpose, structured and pre-coded
data-entry forms.
Ozbolt [268] reported testing manual auditors for their reliability and validity for
coding standard terms they had collected from a set of 465 patients’ medical care
records that were submitted by nine hospitals. Manual auditors identified almost
19,000 items in these patients’ records as representing statements of patients’ medi-
cal problems, patients’ outcomes from care, and patient-care problems; and they
found that their set of standard terms and codes matched 99.1 % of these items.
They concluded that this was a useful demonstration that medical terminologies
could meet criteria for acceptable accuracy in coding, and that computer-based ter-
minologies could be a useful part of a medical language system. Hogan and Wagner
[159] evaluated allowing health care practitioners to add free-text information to
supplement coded information and to provide more flexibility during their direct
172 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
entry of medications. They found that the added free-text data often changed the
meaning of coded data and lowered data accuracy for the medical decision-support
system used with their electronic medical records (EMRs).
Chute [62] reviewed in some detail the evolution of healthcare terminologies
basic to medical data-encoding systems, and how its history went back several cen-
turies. Current terminologies and methods for encoding medical diagnoses began in
the 1940s by the World Health Organization (WHO), who undertook the classifying
and codifying of diseases by systematic assignment of related diagnostic terms to
classes or groups. The WHO took over from the French the classification system
they had adopted in 1893, and was based primarily on body site and etiology of
diseases [95].
Automated encoding of text by computer became an important goal since the
manual coding of text was a tedious and time-consuming process and led to incon-
sistent coding. Efforts were soon directed to developing NLP software for automatic
encoding by computer, and that needed standardized terminology and rules for cod-
ing, aggregating, and communicating textual data. Bishop [31] defined its require-
ments to be: a unique code for each term (word or phrase), each code needed to be
defined, each term needed to be independent, synonyms should be equitable to the
code of their base terms, each code could be linked to codes of related terms, the
system should encompass all of medicine and be in the public domain, and the for-
mat of the knowledge base should be described completely in functional terms to
make it independent of the software and hardware used. It was also apparent that the
formalized structuring and encoding of standardized medical terms would provide
a great savings of storage space and would improve the effectiveness of the search
and retrieval process for textual data. Automated data encoding, as the alternative to
manual encoding, needed to capture the data electronically as it occurred naturally
in a clinical practice, and then have a computer do the automated data encoding.
Tatch [316], in the Surgeon General’s Office of the U.S. Army, reported automatically
encoding diagnoses by punching paper tape as a by-product of the normal typing of
the clinical record summary sheet. The computer program operated upon actual
words within selected blocks, one word at a time, and translated each letter in the
word into a unique numeral; the numeral was matched to an identification table and
an identity code was appended to the numeral. Based on a syntax code, the numerals
were added one-at-a-time, until a diagnostic classification was determined. The
diagnostic code related to the final sum was retrieved from computer memory and
added to the clinical record summary.
Demuth [85] described some of the earliest approaches that had been used to
develop automated text encoding systems included a language-based system that
matched English words against a dictionary, and if a match or an accepted synonym
was found, it was then assigned a code. This approach also included a knowledge-
based or expert system that included the domain of knowledge recorded by experts
for whom the particular data system was intended; and the expert system attempted
to mimic the reasoning and logic of the users. Hierarchical, tree-based, decision
systems tried to automate human reasoning and logic by using simple queries and
responses; and the decision-tree design mandated the nature and order of the ques-
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 173
tions to be asked, and how they were to be answered. Demuth concluded that an
automated coding system had to possess characteristics of both a language-based
and a knowledge-based system in order to provide the feedback necessary to help a
medical records professional arrive at the correct codes.
Pratt [275] at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), reported the automated
encoding of autopsy diagnoses using the Standard Nomenclature of Pathology
(SNOP). He noted that in the creation of a computer-based, natural language pro-
cessing (NLP) system, it was necessary to provide for the morphological, syntactic,
and semantic recognition of the input data. He used SNOP as his semantically orga-
nized dictionary; and noted that SNOP was divided into four major semantic cate-
gories: Topography (T), Morphology (M), Etiology (E), and Function (F). He
further defined additional semantic subcategories and morphemes (the smallest
meaningful parts of words) to permit the successful identification of word forms
that were not found in the SNOP dictionary, and also to help in the recognition of
medical synonyms. He developed parsing algorithms for morphological, syntactic,
and semantic analyses of autopsy diagnoses; and he developed a computer program
which, when given as input a body of medical text, produced as output a linguistic
description and semantic interpretation of the given text [277, 278].
Whiting-O’Keefe and associates [332] at the University of California in San
Francisco reported a system that automatically encoded patients’ data from their
medical records. A computer program was developed that extracted partially
encoded patient data that had been gathered by the Summary Time Oriented Record
(STOR) system for ambulatory patients and converted it to fully encoded data. The
primary display of the STOR system was a time-sequenced flow sheet. Much of the
data captured was structured, which could be viewed as a form of partial data cod-
ing, and this approach made the automated- encoding system feasible. Their coding
program allowed a user to develop a set of coding specifications that determined
what data and how the data in the STOR database was to be coded. In July 1983 the
first machine-encoded data was passed from the STOR system to the ARAMIS
database.
Gabrieli et al. [120] developed an office information system called “Physicians’
Records and Knowledge Yielding Total-Information for Consulting Electronically”
(PRAKTICE) for processing natural language text in medical records [119, 121].
Gabrieli developed a computer-compatible, medical nomenclature with a numeric
representation, where the location of a term in a hierarchical tree served as the code.
For example, the diagnosis of polycythemia was represented by 4-5-9-1-2, where 4
= clinical medicine, 4-5 = a diagnostic term, 4-5-9 = hematologic diagnostic term,
4-5-9-1 = red cell disorder, and 4-5-9-1-2 = polycythemia [121]. He also developed
a lexicon that contained more than 100,000 terms. He used his system for process-
ing medical text; and described his method as beginning with a parser that recog-
nized punctuation marks and spaces, and then broke down each sentence into
individual words while retaining the whole sentence intact for reference. Each word
was numbered for its place in the sentence, and then matched against his word lexi-
con, and given a grammatical classification (noun, verb, etc.) and a semantic char-
acterization (grouped among ‘clue’ medical words, modifiers, or others). The
174 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
program then looked for any words near to the medical term that might be modifiers
altering its meaning (usually adjectives). Thus, the term “abdominal pain” might be
preceded by a modifier such as “crampy abdominal pain.” The remaining words
were then analyzed for their relationship to the other words in the sentence.
Powsner and associates [271] at Yale University reported on their use of semantic
relationships between terms by linking pairs of related terms to try to improve cod-
ing and retrieving clinical literature. They found that defining semantic relation-
ships for certain pairs of terms could be helpful; but multiple semantic relationships
could occur in the clinical literature that was strongly dependent upon the clinical
specialty. In the 1990s and the 2000s more advanced NLP systems were developed
for both the automated encoding and the automated querying of uncoded textual
medical data.
The approaches to automatic encoding of textual data led to the development of meth-
ods for the automated retrieval of encoded textual data (structured) and then for the
much more difficult process of automated retrieval of uncoded textual data. The earli-
est retrieval of unstructured textual data functioned by the matching of words and
phrases within the text. This process based on the key-word-in-context (KWIC) search
[181], led to a pattern matching of word strings [340]. Early automated query systems
attempted to match document word with a similar word in their own data dictionary
or lexicon. If no direct match was found the system then searched for a synonym listed
in their lexicon that could be accepted by the user. Ideally what was needed was a
natural-language processing (NLP) system that could automatically interact with the
computer while using English language text. The approach of matching words and
phrases was useful for processing some highly structured uncoded text; however, this
method still ignored the syntax of sentences and thereby missed the importance of the
locations of words within a sentence and of the relations between words.
Hersh [149] reviewed the evolution of natural language processing (NLP) for
information retrieval systems and noted that they were among the earliest medical
informatics applications. He defined information retrieval systems as systems to
catalog and provide information about documents. Querying a medical database
involved accessing, selecting, and retrieving the desired data was an essential func-
tion for a medical database. This process usually required transforming the query so
it could be executed by the computer by using special programs to retrieve the
selected data. This process required developing standards for the uniform collec-
tion, storage, and exchange of data. Blois [32] emphasized that special program-
ming languages were required to reach into a database and draw together desired
subgroups of patients’ data, and then to specify the desired operation to be per-
formed on the data. Blois proposed that the detailed needs of such retrieval lan-
guages could be met by using a form composed on the screen (query-by-form), by
a series of selections from a displayed “menu” of terms or phrases, or by the use of
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 175
Terminology knowledge database that contained definitions of more than 3,000 dis-
eases. The CONSIDER program was interactive in that it allowed the user to retrieve
lists of diseases, matched by Boolean combinations of terms and sorted in a variety
of ways, such as alphabetical, by frequency, or other method. The CONSIDER pro-
gram accepted a set of signs, symptoms, or other medical findings and then
responded by arraying a list of names of diseases that involved the set of medical
findings that had been specified. Blois and associates [35] at the University of
California-San Francisco expanded the program and called it RECONSIDER that
was able to match diseases by parts of disease names or by phrases within defini-
tions. Using a DEC 11/70 minicomputer with the VAX UNIX operating system,
they were able to search inverted files of encoded text of Current Medical Information
and Terminology (CMIT) 4th edition as the knowledge base. They concluded that
RECONSIDER could be useful as a means of testing other diagnostic programs [34,
35]. Nelson and associates [255] at New York State University at Stony Brook tested
various query strategies using the RECONSIDER program and reported they were
unable to determine a strategy that they considered to be optimal. Anderson [8]
further modified the RECONSIDER program to use it for differential diagnoses and
added a time-series analysis program, an electrocardiogram signal analysis pro-
gram, an x-ray images database, and a digital image analysis program.
In the 1960s commercial search and query programs for large databases became
available, led by Online Analytic Processing (OLAP) that was designed to aid in
providing answers to analytic queries that were multi-dimensional and used rela-
tional databases [71]. Database structures were considered to be multidimensional
when they contained multiple attributes, such as time periods, locations, product
codes, diagnoses, treatments, and other items that could be defined in advance and
aggregated in hierarchies. The combination of all possible aggregations of the base
data was expected to contain answers to every query, which could be answered from
the data. Chamberlin and Boyce [52] at IBM developed the Structured Query
Language (SQL) in the early 1970s (as a language designed for the query, retrieval,
and management of data in a relational database-management system such as had
been introduced by Codd [70]. However, Nigrin [257] noted that in general, clini-
cians and administrators who were not programmers could not themselves generate
novel queries using OLAP or SQL. Furthermore, Connolly [76] advised that query-
ing a relational database with SQL required developing algorithms that optimized
the length of time needed for computer processing if there were many transforma-
tions for a high-level query with multiple entities, attributes, and relations. He also
described a way of visualizing a multi-dimensional database by beginning with a
flat file of a two-dimensional table of data. He then added another dimension to
form a three-dimensional cube of data called a hypercube. He next added cubes of
data within cubes of data with each side of each cube called a dimension. The result
represented a multi-dimensional database. Pendse [269] described in some detail
the history of OLAP and credited the publication in 1962 by Iverson of A
Programming Language (APL) as the first mathematically defined, multidimen-
sional language for processing multidimensional variables. Multidimensional anal-
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 179
yses then became the basis for several versions of OLAP developed by IBM and
others in the 1970s and 1980s. In 1999 the Analyst module in Cognos was devel-
oped and was subsequently acquired by IBM. By the year 2000 several new OLAP
derivatives were in use by IBM, Microsoft, Oracle, and others.
In 1970 McDonald and associates at the Regenstrief Institute for Health Care and
the Indiana University School of Medicine began to develop a clinical database for
their Regenstrief Medical Record System (RMRS). Much of the clinical data was
filed in a manually coded format that could be referenced to the system’s data dic-
tionary. This approach permitted each clinical subsystem to specify and define its
data items. Data were entered by code, or by text that had been converted to code.
The RMRS had a special retrieval program called CARE that permitted non-
programmers to perform complex queries of the medical-record files. CARE pro-
grams also provided quality of care reminders, alert messages, and recommended
evidence-based practice guidelines [236, 238].
Myers and associates [253] at the University of Pennsylvania reported a system
in which a pathology report was translated into a series of keywords or data ele-
ments that were encoded using arbitrarily assigned numbers. While the typist
entered the text of the pathology report using a typewriter controlled by a paper-tape
program, the data elements were automatically coded, and a punched paper tape
was produced as a by-product of the typing. The report was then stored on either
magnetic tape or on a disk storage system. Karpinski and associates [177] at the
Beth Israel Hospital in Boston described their Miniature Information Storage and
Retrieval (MISAR) System, written in the MUMPS language for their PDP-15 com-
puter and designed to maintain and search small collections of data on relatively
inexpensive computers. MISAR was planned to deal with summaries of medical
records in order to abstract correlations of clinical data. It was a flexible, easy-to-
use, online system that permitted rapid manipulation of data without the need for
any additional computer programming. A principal advantage of MISAR was the
ease with which a small database could be created, edited, and queried at a relatively
low cost. In 1972 Melski, also at the Beth Israel Hospital in Boston, used MISAR
for eight registries, each consisting of a single file divided into patients’ records.
Each record was divided into fields that could take on one or more values. MISAR
stored its patients’ records in vertical files that were arranged in order of the data
items as they were collected. The data were also reorganized in inverted files by data
items (for example, by laboratory chemistry sodium tests) in order to be able to
rapidly perform searches and manipulate simple variables. Soon the system was
expanded to MISAR II with an increase in speed and able to serve simultaneously
up to 22 user-terminals and to accommodate interactive analyses of multi-center
studies and of large clinical trials. They were impressed with this improved capabil-
ity of using a convenient terminal to rapidly perform complex searches and analyses
of data from a computer database [239].
In 1973 Weyl and associates [330] at Stanford University Medical Center devel-
oped their Time Oriented Databank (TOD) system that was designed as a table-driven
computer system to record and analyze medical records. The TOD system consisted
of more than 60 programs, which supported data entry and data update, file defini-
180 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
tion and maintenance, and data analysis functions. The TOD system was used on a
mainframe computer for the ARAMIS database. In 1982 the TOD system converted
to a microcomputer-based version called MEDLOG [193].
Enlander [93] described a computer program that searched for certain pre-
established key words in each diagnosis sentence according to a hierarchical struc-
ture that was based on the four-digit SNOP codes. As a test when this mode was
applied to 500 diagnostic sentences, the automated key-word search then encoded
about 75 % of the sentences. In the clinical information system at Kaiser Permanente
in Oakland, California, Enlander used a visual-display terminal equipped with a
light-pen pointer to select and enter a diagnosis, and the SNOP-coded diagnosis was
then automatically displayed.
In 1976 a group at the Harvard School of Public Health developed a generalized
database management system called MEDUS/A, for the kinds of data generated in
the clinical-care process and also used for clinical research. Its principal mode of
data acquisition and display was by the use of user-written, interactive question-
naires and reports [245]. In 1977 MEDUS/A was used at Harvard School of Public
Health for a study that used data from patients with diabetes mellitus. MEDUS/A
was also used for another study using data from patients with coronary artery dis-
ease. King [182, 183] reported that MEDUS/A enabled nonprogrammers to use
their databases and customize their data entry, support their data queries, generate
reports, and provide statistical analyses. A second version of MEDUS/A was writ-
ten in Standard MUMPS language [128]. In 1983 a statistical package was added
called GENESIS.
In 1976 the Division of Research Resources of the National Institutes of Health
(NIH) sponsored the development of a clinical information system called CLINFO
for data entry, query, retrieval, and analysis. It was developed by a consortium of
computer scientists at the Rand Corporation and a group of clinical investigators at
Baylor College of Medicine, University of Washington, the University of Oklahoma,
and at the Vanderbilt University. Lincoln [202] at the Rand Corporation and the
University of Southern California described the early CLINFO system that was
used for a test group of leukemia patients. In a single, small, interactive, user-
oriented system, it provided the integration of the schema, the study data file, the
components designed for data entry and retrieval of time-oriented data, and a statis-
tical analysis package. These units had been programmed separately, but their use-
fulness was increased by their integration. The Vanderbilt group that participated in
the development of CLINFO reported on their first 5-years of experience with its
use by more than 100 clinical investigators. They found that the positive and suc-
cessful experience with the use of the CLINFO system was due to its set of func-
tions directed towards data management and data analysis. They stated that CLINFO
was a friendly, easy-to-use, computer tool, and that it eliminated for its users the
operational problems that often had been associated with their shared central-
computer resources [173, 221]. The CLINFO consortium reported a series of
CLINFO-PLUS enhancements written in the C language. The system then con-
sisted of about 100 systematically designed and closely integrated programs. A
clinical investigator could specify for the computer the types of data being studied
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 181
and then enter and retrieve the data in a variety of ways for display and analysis. The
investigators communicated with the system by means of simple English-language
word-commands, supported by a number of computer-generated prompts. The sys-
tem was designed for a clinical investigator with no expertise in computing. The
investigator was not required to acquire any knowledge of computing in order to use
the system [318, 331]. By the end of the 1980s CLINFO was widely used for clini-
cal research in the United States. In 1988 the NIH Division of Research Resources
(DRR) listed 47 of its 78 General Clinical Research Centers as using CLINFO for
multidisciplinary and multi-categorical research [258].
Some of these research centers also used a program similar to CLINFO called
PROPHET that was developed in the early 1980s by Bolt, Beranek and Newman in
Cambridge, Massachusetts. PROPHET allowed the use of interactive, three-
dimensional graphics designed more for the use of biomedical scientists than for
clinical investigators. McCormick and associates [226] in the Medical Information
Systems Laboratory at the University of Illinois in Chicago described their design
of a relational-structured, clinical database to store and retrieve textual data, and
also pictorial information such as for computer tomography, automated cytology,
and other digitized images. Their Image Memory was incorporated into an inte-
grated database system using a PDP 11/40 minicomputer. They predicted that an
image database would become a normal component of every comprehensive medi-
cal database-management system that included digital-imaging technology.
With the increasing need to be able to efficiently query larger and multiple data-
bases, it became evident that more efficient programs were needed for querying
uncoded textual data. The need was to replace the usual KWIC approach where the
user would query narrative textual data by selecting what were judged to be relevant
key words or phrases for the subject that the user wanted to query. The program
would then search for, match, and retrieve these key words or phrases in the context
in which they were found in a reference knowledge source. One approach was to
expand the number of key words used to query the knowledge source in the hope
those additional terms in a phrase or a sentence would allow the user to apply some
semantic meaning since most English words have several meanings. This approach
might improve the recognition and matching of the users’ information needs and
lead to better retrieval performance. In addition to query programs that permitted
investigators to search and retrieve uncoded textual data from clinical databases by
entering user-selected key-words or phrases, more sophisticated programs began to
be developed to assist the investigator in studying medical hypotheses. More
advanced NLP systems added knowledge bases to guide the user by displaying
queries and their responses, and employing rules and decision trees that led to the
best matching code. Although the search for matching words in a knowledge base
made their retrieval easier, it was still difficult to search for and retrieve exact,
meaningful expressions from text, since although it was easy to enter and store and
match words, it was not always easy for the retriever to figure out what they had
meant to the one who had originally entered the words into the knowledge base.
Blois [33] explained the problem by saying that computers were built to process the
symbols fed to them in a manner prescribed by their programs, where the meaning
182 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
of the symbols was known only to the programmers, rarely to the program, and
never to the computer. Consequently one could transfer everything in the data except
its meaning. Blois further pointed out that the available codes rarely matched the
clinical data precisely, and the user often had to force the data into categories that
might not be the most appropriate. Some advanced automated NLP programs used
machine-learning programs with algorithms that applied relatively simple rules
such as, “if-then,” to automatically “learn” from a “training” knowledge base that
consisted of a large set of sentences in which each had the correct part of speech
attached to each word. Rules were generated for determining the part of speech for
a word in the query based on the nature of the word in the query, the nature of adja-
cent words, and the most likely parts of speech for the adjacent words. Some pro-
cesses used more complex statistical methods that applied weights to each input
item and then made probabilistic decisions and expressed relative certainty of dif-
ferent possible answers rather than of only one. Machine-learning programs would
then need to be tested for their accuracy by applying them to query new sentences.
Doszkocs and associates [90] at the National Library of Medicine noted that
rapid advances had occurred in automated information-retrieval systems for science
and technology. In the year 1980 more than 1,000 databases were available for com-
puterized searching, and more than 2-million searches were made in these data-
bases. In the 1980s a variety of other approaches were developed for searching and
querying clinical-research databases that were linked to patient care databases.
Kingsland’s [184] Research Database System (RDBS) used microcomputers for
storing and searching a relatively large number of observations in a relatively small
number of patients’ records. Shapiro [303] at the Medical University of South
Carolina developed a System for Conceptual Analysis of Medical Practices
(SCAMP) that was able to respond to a query expressed in natural language. Words
in free-text, rather than in codes, were used, such as “Which patients had a pro-
lapsed mitral valve?” The program parsed the request that was expressed in English.
It looked up relevant matching words in a thesaurus and passed linguistic and pro-
cedural information found in the thesaurus to a general-purpose retrieval routine
that identified the relevant patients based on the free-text descriptions. Miller’s
System 1022 could access and query relational databases [244]. Dozier [91] used a
commercial Statistical Analysis System (SAS) database. Katz [179] reported devel-
oping the Clinical Research System (CRS) that was a specialized, database-
management system intended for storing and managing patient data collected for
clinical trials and designed for the direct use by physicians.
Porter [270], Safran [289], and associates [290, 291] at the Boston’s Beth Israel
Hospital, the Brigham and Women’s Hospital, and the Harvard Medical School, in
1964, expanded the Paper Chase program into a program called ClinQuery that was
designed to allow physicians to perform searches in a large clinical database.
ClinQuery was written in a dialect of MUMPS and was used to search their
ClinQuery database, which contained selected patient data that was de-identified to
protect patient’s privacy. The data was transferred automatically every night from
the hospital clinical information systems.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 183
Adams [1] compared three query languages commonly used in the 1980s for
medical-database systems:
• The Medical Query Language (MQL) that was developed by Barnett’s group
with an objective of query and report generation for patients using the Computer-
Stored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR), and MQL was portable to any database
using the MUMPS language. At that date COSTAR was used in more than 100
sites worldwide, with some carrying 200,000 patient records online.
• The CARE System that was developed by McDonald’s group, with a focus on
surveillance of quality of ambulatory patient care and contained more than
80,000 patients’ records. CARE was programmed in VAX BASIC running on a
DEC VAX computer.
• The HELP (Health Evaluation through Logical Processing) System that was
developed by H. Warner’s group, with a focus on surveillance of hospital patient
care was implemented on a Tandem system operating in the Latter Day Saints
(LDS) hospitals in Utah.
Adams reported that the three programs had some common properties, yet used
different designs that focused on the specific objectives for which each was devel-
oped. Adams concluded that each was successful and well used.
Broering and associates [42, 43] at Georgetown Medical Center described their
BioSYNTHESIS system that was developed as a NLM IAIMS research project. The
objective of the project was to develop a front-end software system that could
retrieve information that was stored in disparate databases and computer systems. In
1987 they developed BioSYNTHESIS/I as a gateway system with a single entry
pointing into IAIMS databases to make it easier for users to access selected multiple
databases. BioSYNTHESIS/II was developed to function as an information finder
that was capable of responding to a user’s queries for specific information and to be
able to search composite knowledge systems containing disparate components of
information. The system therefore had to be capable of functioning independently
with the various knowledge bases that required different methods to access and
search them.
Hammond [141] reported that a program called QUERY was written to permit
users to access any data stored in Duke’s The Medical Record (TMR) database. The
program could access each patient’s record in the entire database or in a specified
list of records and carry out the query. The time for a typical query run, depending
on the complexity of the query, was reported to require 4–6 h on a database contain-
ing 50,000–100,000 patients. Prather [272] reported that by 1990 the Duke group
had converted their legacy databases into relational-structured databases so that per-
sonal computers using the SQL language could more readily query all of the
patients’ records in the TMR clinical databases. By 1995 they had accumulated 25
years of patient data.
Frisse [116], Cousins and associates [78] at Washington University School of
Medicine described a program they developed to enhance their ability to query tex-
tual data in large, medical, hypertext systems. As the amount of text in a database
increased, they considered it likely that the proportion of text that would be relevant
184 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
Nexis; Physicians Online (POL); Target on Dialog (TA) from Knight-Ridder; and
Knowledge Finder (KF) available from Aries only on CD-ROM. In one day in 1995,
36 topics were searched, using similar terms, directly on NLM’s MEDLINE, and
the first 25 ranked references from each search were selected for analysis. They
found that all four systems agreed on the best references for only one topic. Three
systems – FS, KF, and TA – chose the same first reference, and POL ranked it sec-
ond. The 4 searches found 12 unique references with all concepts matching. Clinical
experts often based the evaluation of NLP systems on comparing their individual
outputs for completeness of recall and for accuracy in matching of specified criteria
and sometimes as compared with the “gold-standard” of manual output. However,
given a set of criteria, human evaluation was often found to be more variable in its
results than computer evaluation.
Conceptual approaches to querying large, complex medical databases were
developed in the 1990s and were based on combining the characteristics of the
query subject and creating a conceptual model for the search, rather than just using
key words and phrases. From this approach, ontologies of concepts and relation-
ships of medical knowledge began to be developed. Chute and associates [60] at the
Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, reported updating their legacy 4.6 million,
paper-based, patient record Master Sheets that dated back to 1909. With the addition
of their newer electronic clinical database, their researchers were confronted with
more than 200 clinical specialized databases that resided on various hardware and
used a variety of software. They needed to interface these disparate databases on a
spectrum of platforms to many types of workstations using a variety of browsers. To
meet these problems and facilitate the retrieval of their stored medical information,
they introduced Web protocols, graphical browsers, and several versions of
Hypertext Mark-up Language (HTML) to link to their computer server. They also
used the high-level language, Perl, which supported SQL interfaces to a number of
relational-structured databases. They used Perl interfaces for dynamically generated
HTML screens. They also observed the legal need for maintaining the security and
confidentiality of patient data when using the Web.
Hersh [149–155] and associates at Oregon Health Sciences University outlined
their requirements for clinical vocabularies in order to facilitate their use with natu-
ral language processing (NLP) systems for their electronic medical records. The
requirements should include lexical decomposition to allow the meaning of indi-
vidual words to be recognized in the context of the entire sentence; semantic typing
to allow for identification of synonyms and their translation across semantic equiva-
lence classes; and compositional extensibility to allow words to be combined to
generate new concepts. They addressed the problem of accessing documents with
desired clinical information when using the Web with its highly distributed informa-
tion sources. They reported developing an information retrieval system called
SAPHIRE (Semantic and Probabilistic Heuristic Information Retrieval
Environment). SAPHIRE was modified from NLM’s UMLS Metathesaurus, which
had been created by NLM to allow translation between terms within different
medical vocabularies. SAPHIRE provided a Concept-Matching Algorithm that pro-
cessed strings of free text to find concepts and then mapped the concepts into a
186 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
Query could help the clinician find answers to questions arising while using a
patient’s EMR.
Cimino et al. [67] reviewed some methods for information retrieval reported in
the 1990s. Some methods were used to provide the retrieval of medical information
from multiple sources such as from clinical databases and from medical biblio-
graphic resources, and some used NLM’s Unified Medical Language System
(UMLS) for retrieving medical information by online bibliographic searches and
then integrating the information into their clinical databases. They concluded that
additional work was needed to better understand the information needs of different
users in different settings. The work needed to satisfy those needs through more
sophisticated selection and use of information resources, translate concepts from
clinical applications to information resources, and better integrate the users’ sys-
tems. They noted that although early database management systems allowed only
their own data applications to be accessible from their own computer terminals. As
they developed more advanced approaches, they sought to integrate outside infor-
mation sources at the application level so that patient data could be used for realtime
literature retrieval. An instant of this application might be when an abnormal labora-
tory test raised questions that could be answered by a search of medical literature.
In 1998 physicians at Vanderbilt University Hospital began to use their locally
developed, computer-based, free-text summary report system that facilitated the
entry of a limited data summary report for the discharge or transfer of patients. They
reported that two datasets were most commonly used for these summaries: (1)
patients’ treatment items that comprised summaries of clinical care, in addition to
patient’s awareness and action items; and (2) care coordination items that included
patients’ discharge and contact information and any social concerns. They recom-
mended formalizing and standardizing the various clinical specialty data patterns to
reduce the variability of the summary sign-out notes and to improve the communi-
cation of patient information [50]. Zeng and Cimino [343] evaluated the development
of concept-oriented views of natural-language text in electronic medical records
(EMRs). They also addressed the problem of “information overload” that often
resulted when an excess of computer-generated, but unrelated, information was
retrieved after clinical queries were entered when using EMRs. They compared the
retrieval system’s ability to identify relevant patient data and generate either con-
cept-oriented views or traditional clinical views of the original text; and they
reported that concept-oriented views contained significantly less non-relevant infor-
mation; and when responding to queries about EMR’s, using concept-oriented
views showed a significantly greater accuracy in relevant information retrieval.
Hogarth and associates [160] at the University of California in Davis introduced
Terminology Query Language (TQL) as a query language interface to server imple-
mentations of concept-oriented terminologies. They observed that terminology sys-
tems generally lacked standard methodologies for providing terminology support,
and TQL defined a query-based mechanism for accessing terminology information
from one or more terminology servers over a network connection. They described
TQL to be a declarative language that specified what to get rather than how to get it,
and it was relatively easy to use as a query language interface that enabled simple
188 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
charge summary reports. They reported better than 90 % agreement with clinical
experts as the comparative “gold standard.”
Kementsietsidis and associates [180] at the IBM Watson Research Center devel-
oped an algorithm to help when querying clinical records to identify patients with a
defined set of medical conditions, called a “conditions profile,” that was required for
a patient to have in order to be eligible to participate in a clinical trial or a research
study. They described the usual selection process which was to first query the data-
base and identify an initial pool of candidate patients whose medical conditions
matched the conditions profile and then to manually review the medical records of
each of these candidates. They would then identify the most promising patients for
the study. Since that first step could be complicated and very time-consuming in a
very large patient database if one used simple keyword searches for a large number
of selection criteria in a conditions profile, they developed an algorithm that identi-
fied compatibilities and incompatibilities between the conditions in the profile.
Through a series of computational steps the program created a new conditions pro-
file and returned to the researcher a smaller list of patients who satisfied the revised
conditions profile. This new list of patients could then be manually reviewed for
those suited for the study.
Meystre and Haug [241, 243] at the University of Utah described their develop-
ment of a NLP system to automatically analyze patients’ longitudinal electronic
patient records (EPRs) and to ease for clinicians the formation of a patient’s medical-
problem list. They developed from the patients’ problem-oriented medical records
in their Intermountain Health Care program a problem list of about 60,000 con-
cepts. Using this as a knowledge base, their Medical Problem Model identified and
extracted from the narrative text in an active patient’s EMR, a list of the potential
medical problems. Then a Medical Document Model used a problem-list manage-
ment application to form a problem list that could be useful for the physician. In the
Intermountain Health Care program that used their HELP program, the objective
was to use this NLP system to automate the development of problem lists and to
automatically update and maintain them for the longitudinal care of both ambula-
tory and hospital patients. Meystre [242] also reported installing and evaluating an
i2b2 Hive for airway diseases including bronchial asthma and reported that it was
possible to query the structured data in patients’ electronic records with the i2b2
Workbench for about half of the desired clinical data elements. Since smoking sta-
tus was typically mentioned only in clinical notes, they used their natural language
processing (NLP) program in the i2b2 NLP cell. They found the automated extrac-
tion of patients’ smoking status had a mean sensitivity of 0.79 and a mean specific-
ity of 0.90.
Childs [58] described using ClinREAD, a rule-based natural language process-
ing (NLP) system, developed by Lockheed Martin, to participate in the i2b2 Obesity
Challenge program to build software that could query and retrieve data from
patients’ clinical discharge summaries and make judgments as to whether the
patients had, or did not have, obesity and any of 15 comorbidities (including asthma,
coronary artery disease, diabetes, and others). They developed an algorithm with a
comprehensive set of rules that defined word-patterns to be searched for in the text
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 191
as literal text-strings (called ‘features’), that were grouped to form word lists that
were then matched in the text for the presence of any of the specified disease comor-
bidities. Fusaro and associates [117] at Harvard Medical School reported transfer-
ring electronic medical records from more than 8,000 patients into an i2b2 database
using Web services. Gainer [122, 344] and associates from Partners Healthcare
System, Massachusetts General Hospital, Brigham and Women’s Hospital, and the
University of Utah described their methods for using i2b2 to help researchers query
and analyze both coded and textual clinical data that were contained in electronic
patient records. Using data from the records of patients with rheumatoid arthritis,
the collaborating investigators were required to develop new concepts and methods
to query and analyze the data, to add new vocabulary items and intermediate data-
processing steps, and to do some custom programming.
Wynden [336, 337] and associates at the University of California, San Francisco
(UCSF), described their Integrated Data Repository (IDR) project that contained
various collections of clinical, biomedical, economic, administrative, and public
health data. Since standard data warehouse design was usually difficult for research-
ers who needed access to a wide variety of data resources, they developed a transla-
tional infrastructure they called OntoMapper that translated terminologies into
formal data-encoding standards without altering the underlying source data,
OntoMapper also provided syntactic and semantic interoperability for the grid-
computing environments on the i2b2 platform, and they thereby facilitated sharing
data from different resources. Sim [306] and associates from UCSF and several
other medical institutions employed translational informatics and reported their col-
laboration in the Human Studies Database (HSDB) Project to develop semantic and
data-sharing technologies to federate descriptions of human studies. Their priorities
for sharing human-studies data included (1) research characterization of popula-
tions such as by outcome variables, (2) registration of studies into the database
ClinicalTrials.gov, and (3) facilitating translational research collaborations. They
used UCSF’s OntoMapper to standardize data elements from the i2b2 data model.
They shared data using the National Cancer Institute’s caGrid technologies.
Zhang and associates [345] at Case Western Reserve and University of Michigan
developed a query interface for clinical research they called Visual Aggregator and
Explorer (VISAGE) that incorporated three interrelated components: Query Builder
with ontology-driven terminology support; Query Manager that stored and labeled
queries for reuse and sharing; and Query Explorer for comparative analyses of
query results.
Together these components helped with efficient query construction, query shar-
ing, and data exploration. They reported that in their experience VISAGE was more
efficient for query construction than the i2b2 Web client. Logan and associates
[216] at Oregon Health and Portland State Universities reviewed the use of
graphical-user interfaces to query a variety of multi-database systems, with some
using SQL or XML languages and others having been designed with an entity-
attribute-value (EAV) schema. They reported using Web Ontology Language (OWL)
to query, select, and extract desired fields of data from these multiple data sources;
and then to re-classify, re-modify, and re-use the data for their specific needs.
192 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
Levy [197] observed that in the 1950s computers had introduced the information
age. Yet in the 1950s patients’ medical records were still paper-based and were
stored in stacks of charts on shelves in a medical record room. In the early 1960s the
development of computers began to allow patient care data to be entered into a
computer by using punched paper cards. Data were stored and accessed sequentially
in computer flat files that had little structured relationships, and they were aggre-
gated in file-management systems. In the late 1960s structured computer databases
began to evolve with associated database management systems, and hospital infor-
mation systems (HISs) began to be developed using large mainframe computers
with random-access disc storage to provide integrated databases that serviced all
clinical departments. It was soon found that although a single, large, mainframe
computer could readily integrate patient data into a single database, it could not
adequately support the information processing requirements for all of the clinical
specialty and ancillary services in a large medical center.
In the 1970s the advent of minicomputers permitted many hospital services to
have their subsystems’ databases directly linked to a central mainframe computer
that integrated all patients’ data into the patients’ clinical records that were stored in
the mainframe computer’s database [18, 19]. Some patient data were manually
encoded before being entered into the database to facilitate billing for payments of
claims and for the retrieval of data for management and clinical research purposes.
In the 1970s distributed database systems began to be developed, and in the
following decades the development of increasingly large and enhanced medical
databases was phenomenal.
In the 1980s a diffusion of minicomputers and microcomputers were incorpo-
rated into a variety of medical applications. Microcomputer-based systems that had
evolved independently for specialized clinical and ancillary services usually became
subsystems of larger medical information systems with an integrating central data-
base management system. Storage technology improved, storage devices became
cheaper and larger. Registries grew in size to become databases. Databases became
data warehouses and a great variety of secondary clinical databases evolved. It was
not until the 1980s, when microcomputers became internalized into the popular
culture of the United States, that computers became commonly accepted working
tools. Van Brunt [320] observed that despite the increasing use of computer technol-
ogy, there were not yet any noteworthy effects of computers on a physician’s mode
of practice.
The conversion of natural language English words into a language understand-
able by a computer was an essential functional and technical requirement since
computer applications in all medical specialties and for all health care providers
needed to be able to communicate with computers in order to enter, store, retrieve,
and manipulate patient data. Accordingly, NLP needed to be developed for retriev-
ing and understanding unstructured data from patients’ medical histories and physi-
cal examination data, from nursing notes, from operative notes describing surgery,
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 193
pathology, and other procedures, from diagnostic interpretations of x-rays and elec-
trocardiograms, and from all clinical laboratory test re diagnostic and therapeutic
procedures ordered for and received by a patient. English words were entered by
typewriter-like keyboard, either encoded or in natural language and later by spoken
words.
In the 1990s international communications used computers and local-area net-
works, and the use of the Internet and the World Wide Web became commonplace.
As patient care data expanded in both volume and complexity, frequent innovations
in informatics technology provided more efficient computer-based, clinical-
information systems in hospitals and in medical offices. Lincoln [203] reviewed the
important contributions of computing to medical care and to medical research and
observed that there still existed the challenge to formulate appropriate computer
logics to properly relate descriptions of disease, rules for medical practice, and gen-
eral guidelines for health care delivery.
In the 2000s distributed information systems allowed physicians to enter orders
and retrieve test results using clinical workstations connected to client-server com-
puters in local-area-networks that linked multiple medical center databases.
Hartzband [143] noted that nothing had changed clinical practice more fundamen-
tally than did the Internet, since it provided easily retrieved information by physi-
cians for clinical decision support and by patients in search of self-diagnoses and
better understanding of their diseases and of their prescribed therapy. The Internet
and the Web not only changed profoundly personal communication between the
doctor and the patient but also made possible the global exchange of clinical data
and medical knowledge between multiple information sources. In the 2010s federal
support greatly increased the use of computer-based electronic patient records
(EPRs). Global wireless communications with cloud storage for translational net-
works evolved that linked data warehouses in collaborating medical centers in the
nation; and mobile e-health care for the individual patient.
Through these six decades, the complexity of computer applications greatly
increased. More commercial software packages came to market, and software costs
became a greater proportion of total computing costs. The development of efficient
computer-stored databases was essential for many medical computing applications.
Users found it more economical to obtain commercial application programs (“apps”)
that were packaged to perform specific, commonly needed functions than to develop
such programs directly themselves. Specialized commercial application programs
included databases, word processing programs, and spreadsheets for tabular pro-
cessing of numerical data. It became less necessary for the users of such software to
know how to program a computer themselves. Information communication systems
grew to service large medical centers with all of their inpatient and outpatient clini-
cal departments that included internal medicine, surgery, pediatrics, obstetrics,
gynecology, pathology, clinical laboratory, radiology, and others. The great variety
of medical applications required a complex, computer-based, information system
that communicated data to and from all of the various clinical subsystems.
Since the early 1900s physicians have followed the teachings of the famed clini-
cian, William Osler, to study and learn from their patients and from the medical
194 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
records of their patients, in order to improve their knowledge of diseases. The pro-
cess of physician-patient interaction still follows the basic system described at the
beginning of this chapter. Technology, however, has added significant new capabili-
ties to aid in decision making and to acquire new knowledge.
References
21. Barnett GO, Castleman PA. A time-sharing computer system for patient-care activities.
Comput Biomed Res. 1967;1:41–51.
22. Barnett GO, Baruch JJ. Hospital computer project. Memorandum Eight. 1st ed. Boston:
Massachusetts General Hospital; 1965.
23. Barnett GO. In: Collen MF, editor. Massachusetts general hospital computer system.
New York: Wiley; 1974.
24. Barnett GO. The modular hospital information system. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research, vol. IV. New York: Academic; 1974. p. 243–5.
25. Barnett GO. The use of computers in clinical data management: the ten commandments.
American Medical Association symposium on computers in medicine. AMA: Washington,
DC;1970.
26. Barnett GO, Greenes RA. High level programming languages. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:488–94.
27. Barnett GO, Greenes RA, Grossman JH. Computer processing of medical text information.
Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:177–82.
28. Barrows Jr RC, Busuioc M, Friedman C. Limited parsing of notational text visit notes: ad-
hoc vs. NLP approaches. Proc AMIA. 2000;51–5.
29. Benson T. Principles of health interoperability HL7 and SNOMED. London: Springer; 2010.
30. Best WR. The potential role of computers in medical practice. JAMA. 1962;182:994–1000.
31. Bishop CW. A name is not enough. MD Comput. 1989;6:200–6.
32. Blois MS. Medical records and clinical data bases. What is the difference? Proc AMIA.
1982;86–9.
33. Blois MS. The physician’s information environment. Proc SCAMC. 1984;86–8.
34. Blois MS. Medical records and clinical databases: what is the difference? MD Comput.
1983;1:24–8.
35. Blois MS, Tuttle MS, Sherertz DD. RECONSIDER: a program for generating differential
diagnoses. Proc SCAMC. 1981;263–8.
36. Blum BI. A history of computers. In: Blum B, editor. Clinical information systems. New York:
Springer; 1986. p. 1–32.
37. Blum BI. Design methods for clinical systems. Proc SCAMC. 1986;309–15.
38. Blum BI. A data model for patient management. Proc MEDINFO. 1983;83:748–51.
39. Blum BI. Clinical information systems. New York: Springer; 1986.
40. Blum BI. Information systems for patient care. New York: Springer; 1984.
41. Borlawsky TB, Li J, Shagina L, Crowson MG, Liu Y, Friedman C, et al. Evaluation of an
ontology-anchored natural language-based approach for asserting multi-scale biomolecular
networks for systems medicine. Proc AMIA TBI. 2010;6–10.
42. Broering NC, Potter J, Mistry P. Linking bibliographic and infomation databases: an IAIMS
prototype. Proc AAMSI. 1987;169–73.
43. Broering NC, Bagdoyan H, Hylton J, Strickler J. Biosynthesis: integrating multiple databases
into a virtual database. Proc SCAMC. 1989;360–4.
44. Brown B, Harbort B, Kaplan B, Maxwell J. Guidelines for managing the implementation of
automated medical systems. Proc SCAMC. 1981;935–41.
45. Bryan M. The year of the data base. Personal Comput. 1988;12:100–9.
46. Buck CR, Reese GR, Lindberg DA. A general technique for computer processing of coded
patient diagnoses. Missouri Med. 1966;63:276. 9 passim.
47. Caceres CA. Large versus small, single versus multiple computers. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:445–52.
48. Campbell KE, Cohn SP, Chute CG, Rennels G, Shortliffe EH. Galapagos: computer-based
support for evolution of a convergent medical terminology. Proc AMIA. 1996;26–7.
49. Campbell KE, Cohn SP, Chute CG, Shortliffe EH, Rennels G. Scalable methodologies for
distributed development of logic-based convergent medical terminology. Methods Inf Med.
1998;37:426–39.
50. Campion TR, Weinberg ST, Lorenzi NM, Waitman LR. Evaluation of computerized free text
sign-out notes: baseline understanding and recommendations. Appl Clin Inform.
2010;1:304–17.
196 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
51. Cao H, Chiang MF, Cimino JJ, Friedman C, Hripcsak G. Automatic summarization of patient
discharge summaries to create problem lists using medical language processing. Proc
MEDINFO. 2004;1540.
52. Chamberlin DD, Boyce RF. SEQUEL: a structured English query language. Proc of the 1974
ACM SIGFIDET (now SIGMOD) workshop on data description, access and control
1974;249–64.
53. CHCT. Assessment: IOM study of the medical record. Newsletter of the Council on Health
Care Technology. IOM-NAS; September 1989:2.
54. Chen ES, Hripcsak G, Friedman C. Disseminating natural language processed clinical narra-
tives. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2006;126–30.
55. Chen ES, Hripcsak G, Xu H, Markatou M, Friedman C. Automated acquisition of disease-
drug knowledge from biomedical and clinical documents: an initial study. JAMIA.
2008;15:87–98.
56. Childs BW. Future of information system technology. USHealthcare. 1989;6:8–9.
57. Childs BW. Bedside terminals: status and the future. Healthc Comput Commun.
1988;5:12–4.
58. Childs LC, Enelow R, Simonsen L, Heintzelman NH, Kowalski KM, Taylor RJ. Description
of a rule-based system for the i2b2 challenge in natural language processing for clinical data.
JAMIA. 2009;16:571–5.
59. Chueh HC, Murphy S. The i2b2 hive and clinical research chat. Informatics for integrating
biology and the bedside. National Centers for Biomedical Computing. Washington, DC:
National Institutes of Health; 2006. p. 1–58.
60. Chute CC, Crowson DL, Bluntrock JD, Crowson DL. Medical information retrieval and
WWW browsers at Mayo. Proc AMIA. 1995;68–73.
61. Chute CG, Elkin PL, Sheretz DD, Tuttle MS. Desiderata for a clinical terminology server.
Proc AMIA. 1999;42–6.
62. Chute CG. The Copernican era of healthcare terminology: a re-centering of health informa-
tion systems. Proc AMIA. 1998;68–73.
63. Cimino JJ, Socratous SA, Grewal R. The informatics superhighway: prototyping on the
World Wide Web. Proc AMIA. 1995;111–6.
64. Cimino JJ. From data to knowledge through concept-oriented terminologies experience with
the medical entities dictionary. JAMIA. 2000;7:288–97.
65. Cimino JJ. Desiderata for controlled medical vocabularies in the twenty-first century.
Methods Inf Med. 1998;37:394.
66. Cimino JJ, Barnett GO. Automated translation between medical terminologies using seman-
tic definitions. MD Comput. 1990;7:104–9.
67. Cimino JJ, Clayton PD, Hripcsak G, Johnson SB. Knowledge-based approaches to the main-
tenance of a large controlled medical terminology. JAMIA. 1994;1:35–50.
68. Cimino JJ, Aguirre A, Johnson SB, Peng P. Generic queries for meeting clinical information
needs. Bull Med Libr Assoc. 1993;81:195.
69. Cimino ZQ. Mapping medical vocabularies to the unified medical language system. Proc
AMIA. 1996;105–9.
70. Codd EF. A relational model of data for large shared data banks. Commun ACM.
1970;13:377–87.
71. Codd EF, Codd SB, Salley CT. Providing OLAP (On-Line Analytical Processing) to user-
analysts: an IT mandate. San Jose, CA: EF Codd and Associates; 1993.
72. Collen M. Hospital computer systems: reasons for failures and factors making for success. In:
Public Health in Europe, editor. 1. Health planning and organization of medical care.
Copenhagen: Regional Office for Europe, World Health Organization; 1972.
73. Collen MF. General requirements of a medical information (MIS). Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:393–406.
74. Collen MF. Medical information system (MIS) diffusion in the USA: a historical review. Proc
MEDINFO. 1989;1:3–7.
75. Collen MF, Davis LS, Van Brunt EE, Terdiman JF. Functional goals and problems in large-
scale patient record management and automated screening. In: Siler W, Lindberg DAB, edi-
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 197
tors. Computers in life science research. FASEB monographs. Vol. 2. New York: Springer;
1974. p. 159–64.
76. Connolly TM, Begg CE. Database management systems: a practical approach to design.
New York: Addison-Wesley; 1999.
77. Cote RA. The SNOP-SNOMED concept: evolution towards a common medical nomencla-
ture and classification. Pathologist. 1977;31:383–9.
78. Cousins SB, Silverstein JC, Frisse ME. Query networks for medical information retrieval-
assigning probabilistic relationships. Proc SCAMC. 1990;800–4.
79. Cooney JP. Uniform hospital discharge data: minimum data set. DHEW Pub No 80-1157,
1980.
80. Crosby EL, Cooney JP. Common data set for hospital management. DHEW Pub No. (HSM
72-306). Washington, DC: U.S. Govt Printing Office; 1972.
81. Curtice RM, Glaser JP. The difference between interfaced and integrated systems. J Med
Syst. 1989;13:55–8.
82. Das AK, Musen MA. A comparison of the temporal expressiveness of three database query
methods. Proc AMIA. 1995;19:331–7.
83. Davis LS. A system approach to medical information. Methods Inf Med. 1973;12:1–6.
84. Davis LS. Problems facing large health information systems. Proc ACM. 1973;1–2.
85. Demuth AI. Automated ICD-9-CM coding: an inevitable trend to expert systems. Healthc
Comput Commun. 1985;2:62.
86. Densen PM, Group AHW. Guidelines for producing uniform data for health care plans.
Washington, DC: DHEW Publication No.(HSM); 1972. p. 73–3005.
87. Dick RS, Steen EB, Detmer DE. The computer-based patient record: an essential technology
for health care. Washington, DC: National Academy Press; 1991.
88. Dolin DH, Mattison JE, Cohn S, et al. Kaiser Permanente’s convergent medical terminology.
Proc MEDINFO. 2004;346–50.
89. Dolin RH, Spackman K, Abilla A, Correia C, Goldberg B, Konicek D, et al. The SNOMED
RT procedure model. Proc AMIA. 2001;139–43.
90. Doszkocs TE. CITE NLM: natural-language searching in an online catalog. Inf Technol Libr.
1983;2:365–80.
91. Dozier JA, Hammond WE, Stead WW. Creating a link between medical and analytical data-
bases. Proc SCAMC. 1985;478–82.
92. Eden M. Storage and retrieval of the results of clinical research. Proc IRE Trans Med
Electron. 1960;265–8.
93. Enlander D. Computer data processing of medical diagnoses in pathology. Am J Clin Pathol.
1975;63:538–44.
94. Farrington JF. CPT-4: a computerized system of terminology and coding. In: Emlet H, editor.
Challenges and prospects for advanced medical systems. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1978.
p. 147–50.
95. Feinstein AR. Unsolved scientific problems in the nosology of clinical medicine. Arch Intern
Med. 1988;148:2269–74.
96. Fineberg HV. Effects of clinical evaluation on the diffusion of medical technology. In:
Mosteller F, editor. Assessing medical technologies. Washington, DC: National Academy
Press; 1985. p. 176–210.
97. Fischetti L, Schloeffel P, Blair JS, Henderson ML. Standards. In: Lehmann HP, Abbott P,
Roderer N, editors. Aspects of electronic health record systems. New York: Springer; 2006.
p. 252–82.
98. Flagle CD. On the requirements for information systems in hospitals. Proceedings of the
conference on ADP in hospitals, Elsinore. 1966.
99. Flagle CD. Communication and control in comprehensive patient care and health planning.
Ann NY Acad Sci. 1969;161:714–29.
100. Flagle CD. Technological development in the health services. Proc IEEE.
1969;57:1847–52.
198 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
101. Forman BH, Cimino JJ, Johnson SB, Sengupta S, Sideli RV, Clayton PD. Applying a con-
trolled medical terminology to a distributed, production clinical information system. Proc
AMIA. 1995;19:421–5.
102. Frawley WJ, Piatetsky-Shapiro G, Matheus CJ. Knowledge discovery in databases: an over-
view. AI Mag. 1992;13:57.
103. Friedman BA, Martin JB. The physician as a locus of authority, responsibility, and opera-
tional control of medical systems. J Med Syst. 1988;12:389–96.
104. Friedman C, Johnson SB. Medical text processing: past achievements, future directions. In:
Ball MJ, Collen MF, editors. Aspects of the computer-based patient record. New York:
Springer; 1992. p. 212–28.
105. Friedman C. A broad-coverage natural language processing system. Proc AMIA. 2000;270.
106. Friedman C. Towards a comprehensive medical language processing system: methods and
issues. Proc AMIA. 1997;595.
107. Friedman C, Hripcsak G. Evaluating natural language processors in the clinical domain.
Method Inform Med. 1998;37:334–49.
108. Friedman C, Hripcsak G, Shablinsky I. An evaluation of natural language processing meth-
odologies. Proc AMIA. 1998;855–9.
109. Friedman C, Shagina L, Lussier Y, Hripcsak G. Automated encoding of clinical documents
based on natural language processing. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 2004;11:392–402.
110. Friedman C, Johnson SB, Forman B, Starren J. Architectural requirements for a multipurpose
natural language processor in the clinical environment. Proc AMIA. 1995;19:347–51.
111. Friedman C, Alderson PO, Austin JHM, Cimino JJ, Johnson SB. A general natural-language
text processor for clinical radiology. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 1994;1:161–74.
112. Friedman C, Shagina L, Socratous S, Zeng X. A web-based version of MedLEE: a medical
language extract and encoding system. Proc AMIA. 1996:938.
113. Friedman RB. Computers. In: Eden HS, Eden M, editors. Micro-computers in patient care.
Park Ridge: Noyes Medical Publications; 1981. p. 90–5.
114. Friedman RB, Gustafson DH. Computers in clinical medicine, a critical review. Comput
Biomed Res. 1977;10:199–204.
115. Frisse ME. Digital libraries & information retrieval. Proc AMIA. 1996;320.
116. Frisse ME, Cousins SB. Query by browsing: an alternative hypertext information retrieval
method. Proc SCAMC. 1989;388–91.
117. Fusaro VA, Kos PJ, Tector M. Electronic medical record analysis using cloud computing.
Proc AMIA CRI. 2010;90.
118. Gabrieli ER. Standardization of medical informatics (special issue). J Clin Comput.
1985;14:62–104.
119. Gabrieli ER. Interface problems between medicine and computers. Proc SCAMC. 1984;93.
120. Gabrieli ER. Computerizing text from office records. MD Comput. 1987;4:44–9.
121. Gabrieli ER. A new electronic medical nomenclature. J Med Syst. 1989;13:355–73.
122. Gainer V, Goryachev S, Zeng Q, et al. Using derived concepts from electronic medical record
systems for discovery research in informatics integrating biology and the bedside (i2b2). Proc
AMIA TBI. 2010;91.
123. Galbraith JK. New industrial state. Boston: Houghton Mifflin; 1967.
124. Gantner GE. SNOMED: the systematized nomenclature of medicine as an ideal standardized
language for computer applications in medical care. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:1224.
125. Giannakopoulos S, Hammer J. Requirements for the small office practice. Proc SCAMC.
1980;3:1778–81.
126. Giebink GA, Hurst LL. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975.
127. Glaser JP, Gatewood LC, Anderson JC. Achieving health information system fit. Proc
MEDINFO. 1983;61–4.
128. Goldstein L. MEDUS/A: a high-level database management system. Proc SCAMC.
1980;3:1653.
129. Gordon BL. Linguistics for medical records. In: Driggs MF, editor. Problem-directed and
medical information systems. New York: Intercontinental Medical Book Corp; 1973. p. 5–13.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 199
130. Gordon BL. Regularization and stylization of medical records. JAMA. 1970;212:1502–7.
131. Gordon BL. Biomedical language and format for manual and computer applications. Methods
Inf Med. 1968;7:5.
132. Gordon BL. Standard medical terminology. JAMA. 1965;191:311–3.
133. Graepel PH, Henson DE, Pratt AW. Comments on the use of the Systematized Nomenclature
of Pathology. Methods Inf Med. 1975;14:72.
134. Graepel PH. Manual and automatic indexing of the medical record: categorized nomencla-
ture (SNOP) versus classification (ICD). Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:77–86.
135. Grams RR, Jin ZM. The natural language processing of medical databases. J Med Syst.
1989;13:79–87.
136. Grams S, Dvorak RM, Pryor TA, Childs BW. Panel: trends in health care information sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1984;8:139–42.
137. Greenes RA. Medical computing in the 1980s: operating systems and programming language
issues. J Med Syst. 1983;7:295–9.
138. Greer AL. The state of the art versus the state of the science: the diffusion of new medical
technologies into practice. Int J Technol Assess Health Care. 1988;4:5–26.
139. Haas RE, Fleishl G. Medical time sharing on a small business computer. Proc San Diego
Biomed Symp. 1972;11:359–62.
140. Hammond WE. GEMISCH. A minicomputer information support system. Proc IEEE.
1973;61:1575–83.
141. Hammond WE, Straube MJ, Blunden PB, Stead WW. Query: the language of databases. Proc
SCAMC. 1989;13:419–23.
142. Hanmer JC. Diffusion of medical technologies: comparison with ADP systems in medical
environment. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1731–6.
143. Hartzband P, Groopman J. Untangling the web: patients, doctors, and the Internet. N Engl J
Med. 2010;362:1063–6.
144. Haug PJ, Gardner RM, Tate KE, Evans RS, East TD, Kuperman G, et al. Decision support in
medicine: examples from the HELP system. Comput Biomed Res. 1994;27:396–418.
145. Haug PJ, Warner HR, Clayton PD, Schmidt CD, Pearl JE, Farney RJ, et al. A decision-driven
system to collect the patient history. Comput Biomed Res. 1987;20:193–207.
146. Hendrix GG, Sacerdoti ED. Natural-language processing: the field in perspective. Byte.
1981;6:304–52.
147. Henkind SJ, Benis AM, Teichholz LE. Quantification as a means to increase the utility of
nomenclature-classification systems. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;858–61.
148. Henley RR, Wiederhold G. An analysis of automated ambulatory medical record systems.
San Francisco: Office of Medical Information Systems, University of California, San
Francisco Medical Center; 1975.
149. Hersh WR, Donohue LC, SAPHIRE International: a tool for cross-language information
retrieval. Proc AMIA. 1998; 673–7.
150. Hersh W. Information retrieval at the millenium. Proc AMIA. 1998;38.
151. Hersh WR, Greenes RA., SAPHIRE – an information retrieval system featuring concept
matching, automatic indexing, probabalistic retrieval, and hierarchical relationships. Comput
Biomed Res. 1990;23:410–25.
152. Hersh WR, Hickam DH. Information retrieval in medicine: the SAPHIRE experience. JASIS.
1995;46:743–7.
153. Hersh WR, Leone TJ. The SAPHIRE server: a new algorithm and implementation. Proc
AMIA. 1995:858–63.
154. Hersh WR, Pattison-Gordon E, Evans DA, Greenes RA. Adaptation of meta-1 for SAPHIRE,
a general purpose information retrieval system. Proc SCAMC. 1990;156–60.
155. Hersh WR, Brown KE, Donohoe LC, Campbell EM, Horacek AE. CliniWeb: managing clini-
cal information on the World Wide Web. JAMIA. 1996;3:273–80.
156. Himes BE, Kohane IS, Ramoni MF, Weiss ST. Characterization of patients who suffer asthma
exacerbations using data extracted from electronic medical records. Proc AMIA Annu Symp.
2008;308.
200 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
157. Hodgdon JD. ADP management problems and implementation strategies relating to user
resistance to change. Proc SCAMC. 1979;843.
158. Hoffman T. The 6th annual medical hardware and software buyers guide. MD Comput.
1989;6:334–77.
159. Hogan WR, Wagner MM. Free-text fields change the meaning of coded data. Proc AMIA.
1996;517.
160. Hogarth MA, Gertz M, Gorin FA. Terminology query language: a server interface for
concept-oriented terminology systems. Proc AMIA. 2000;349.
161. Hripcsak G, Allen B, Cimino JJ, Lee R. Access to data: comparing AccessMed with query by
review. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 1996;3:288–99.
162. Hripcsak G, Friedman C, Alderson PO, DuMouchel W, Johnson SB, Clayton PD. Unlocking
clinical data from narrative reports: a study of natural language processing. Ann Intern Med.
1995;122:681–8.
163. Hucko GM, Hagamen WD. An interactive patient record system and its transfer from a main-
frame to microcomputers. Proc SCAMC. 1978;509.
164. Humphreys BL. De facto, de rigueur, and even useful: standards for the published literature
and their relationship to medical informatics. Proc SCAMC. 1990;2.
165. Humphreys BL, Lindberg D, D. Building the unified medical language system. Proc SCAMC.
1989;475–80.
166. Hutchinson DR. The office of technology assessment health data study: a preliminary report.
Health Serv Res. 1978;13:103.
167. Jacobs H. A natural language information retrieval system. Methods Inf Med. 1968;7:8–16.
168. Jenkin MA. Design concepts for successful computerized information systems. Proceedings
of the AAMI 9th annual meeting. New Orleans;1974.
169. Jenkin MA, Cheezum L, Essick V, Gilson K, Jean BB, Mockler N, et al. Clinical patient
management and the integrated health information system. Med Instrum. 1977;12:217–21.
170. Johnson KB, Rosenbloom ST. Computer-based documentation: past, present, and future. In:
Lehmann HP, Roderer N, Abbott P, editors. Aspects of electronic health record systems.
New York: Springer; 2006. p. 308–28.
171. Johnson SB. Conceptual graph grammar: a simple formalism for sublanguage. Methods Inf
Med. 1998;37:345–52.
172. Johnson SB, Friedman C. Integrating data from natural language processing into a clinical
information system. Proc AMIA. 1996;537–41.
173. Johnston Jr H, Higgins SB, Harris TR, Lacy W. The effect of a CLINFO management and
analysis on clinical research. Proc MEDCOMP. 1982;517–8.
174. Kaplan B. The medical computing “lag”: perceptions of barriers to the application of comput-
ers to medicine. Int J Technol Assess Health Care. 1987;3:123–36.
175. Kaplan B. The computer as Rorschach: implications for management and user acceptance.
Proc SCAMC. 1983;664–7.
176. Kaplan BM. Computers in medicine, 1950–1980: the relationship between history and pol-
icy. Dissertation abstracts international part A: humanities and social science; 1984. p. 44.
177. Karpinski RH, Bleich HL. MISAR: a miniature information storage and retrieval system.
Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:655–60.
178. Kastner V, Pratt AW. Resourcing. Comput Progr Biomed. 1976;5:189–205.
179. Katz B. Clinical research system. MD Comput. 1986;3:53–5. 61.
180. Kementsietsidis A, Lim L, Wang M. Profile-based retrieval of records in medical databases.
Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2009;312.
181. Kent A. Computers and biomedical information storage and retrieval. JAMA.
1966;196:927–32.
182. King C, Strong RM, Goldstein L. MEDUS/A: distributing database management for research
and patient data. Proc SCAMC. 1988;818–26.
183. King C, Strong RM, Manire L. Comparing data management systems in clinical research:
1983 Survey. Proc SCAMC. 1983;715–9.
184. Kingsland LC. RDBS: research data base system for microcomputers; coding techniques and
file structures. Proc AAMSI Conf. 1982;85–9.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 201
185. Kling R. Social analyses of computing: theoretical perspectives in recent empirical research.
ACM Comput Surv (CSUR). 1980;12:61–110.
186. Korein J. The computerized medical record: the variable-field-length format system and its
applications. Inf Process Med Rec. 1970;259–91.
187. Korein J, Goodgold AL, Randt CT. Computer processing of medical data by variable-field-
length format. JAMA. 1966;196:950–6.
188. Korein J, Tick LJ, Woodbury MA, Cady LD, Goodgold AL, Randt CT. Computer processing
of medical data by variable-field-length format. JAMA. 1963;186:132–8.
189. Kwon IW, Vogler TK, Kim JH. Computer utilization in health care. Proc AAMSI.
1983;538–42.
190. Lacson R, Long W. Natural language processing of spoken diet records (SDRs). Proc AMIA
Annu Symp. 2006;454–8.
191. Lamson BG, Russell WS, Fullmore J, Nix WE. The first decade of effort: progress toward a
hospital information system at the UCLA Hospital, Los Angeles, California. Methods Inf
Med. 1970;9:73–80.
192. Lamson BG. Computer assisted data processing in laboratory medicine. In: Stacy RW,
Waxman BD, editors. Computers in biomedical research, vol. II. New York: Academic Press;
1965. p. 353–76.
193. Layard MW, McShane DJ. Applications of MEDLOG, a microcomputer-based system for
time-oriented clinical data. Proc SCAMC. 1983;731–4.
194. Ledley RS, Lusted LB. The use of electronic computers in medical data processing: aids in
diagnosis, current information retrieval, and medical record keeping. IRE Transactions on
Med Electronics. 1960;ME-7:31–47.
195. Ledley RS. Report on the use of computers in biology and medicine. Washington, DC:
National Academies; 1960.
196. Levy AH. Information retrieval. In: Ball MJ, Collen MF, editors. Aspects of the computer-
based patient record. New York: Springer; 1992. p. 146–52.
197. Levy AH. Recent developments in microcomputers in medicine. Proc AAMSI. 1984;341–5.
198. Levy AH, Baskin AB. Clinical computing-1977. J Med Syst. 1977;1:361–74.
199. Levy AH, Shires DB, Wolf H. Is informatics a basic medical science. Proc MEDINFO.
1977;979.
200. Levy C, Rogers E. Clinician-oriented access to data-COAD: a natural language interface to a
VA DHCP Database. Proc AMIA. 1995;933.
201. Lilienfeld AM. Ambulatory medical care records: uniform minimum basic data set.
Washington, DC: U.S. Govt Printing Office; 1974.
202. Lincoln TL, Groner GF, Quinn JJ, Lukes RJ. The analysis of functional studies in acute lym-
phocytic leukemia using CLINFO-A small computer information and analysis system for
clinical investigators. Informatics for Health and Social Care. 1976;1:95–103.
203. Lincoln T. An historical perspective on clinical laboratory systems. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA,
editors. A history of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 267–77.
204. Lindberg D. The impact of automated information systems applied to health problems. In:
Holland WW et al., editors. Oxford text of public health, Investigative Methods in Public
Health. 3rd ed. New York: Oxford University Press; 1985. p. 55–76.
205. Lindberg D. Computer networks within health care. In: Peterson H, Isaksson A, editors.
Communication networks in health care. Amsterdam: North Holland; 1982. p. 109–20.
206. Lindberg D. The growth of medical information systems in the United States. Lexington:
Lexington Books Lexington; 1979.
207. Lindberg D. The status of medical information systems technology. In: Shannon R, editor.
Hospital information systems. Amsterdam: North-Holland; 1979. p. 19–29.
208. Lindberg D. Impact of public policy on the development, adoption, and diffusion of medical
information systems technology. Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off; 1978.
209. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. South Med J. 1972;65:1032.
210. Lindberg D. Computer failures and successes. South Med Bull. 1969;57:18–21.
211. Lindberg D. CONSIDER: a computer program for medical instruction. NY State J Med.
1969;69:54.
202 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
212. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
213. Lindberg DAB. Diffusion of medical information systems technology in the United States. J
Med Syst. 1982;6:219–28.
214. Lindberg DAB. The development and diffusion of a medical technology: medical informa-
tion systems. In: Sanders CA, et al., editors. Medical technology and the health care system:
a study of the diffusion of equipment-embodied technology. Washington, DC: National
Academy of Sciences; 1979. p. 201–39.
215. Linton PH, Willcutt HC. Psychological aspects of computer use. MD Comput. 1985;2:64–7.
216. Logan JR, Britell S, Delcambre LML, Kapoor V, Buckmaster JG. Representing multi-
database study schemas for reusability. Proc AMIA TBI. 2010;21.
217. Logan RA, Brenner DJ. Innovative physicians and medical information systems. Proc
AAMSI. 1987;197–201.
218. Lupovitch A, Memminger 3rd J, Corr RM. Manual and computerized cumulative reporting
systems for the clinical microbiology laboratory. Am J Clin Pathol. 1979;72:841–7.
219. Lussier Y, Borlawsky T, Rappaport D, Liu Y, Friedman C. PHENOGO: assigning phenotypic
context to gene ontology annotations with natural language processing. Pac Symp Biocomput.
2006;64.
220. Lyman M, Sager N, Freidman C, Chi E. Computer-structured narrative in ambulatory care:
its use in longitudinal review of clinical data. Proc SCAMC. 1985;82–6.
221. Mabry JC, Thompson HK, Hopwood MD, Baker WR. A prototype data management and
analysis system (CLINFO): system description and user experience. Proc MEDINFO.
1977;77:71–5.
222. Markus ML. Power, politics, and MIS implementation. Commun ACM. 1983;26:430–44.
223. Mathur S, Dinakarpandian D. Automated ontological gene annotation for computing disease
similarity. Proc AMIA TBI. 2010;12.
224. Mays E, Weida R, Dionne R, Laker M, White B, Liang C, et al. Scalable and expressive
medical terminologies. Proc AMIA. 1996;259.
225. McCarn DB, Moriarty DG. Computers in medicine. Hospitals. 1971;45:37–9.
226. McCormick BH, Chang SK, Boroved RT. Technological trends in clinical information sys-
tems. Proc MEDINFO. 1977;43–8.
227. McCormick PJ, Elhadad N, Stetson PD. Use of semantic features to classify patient smoking
status. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2008;450.
228. McCray AT. The nature of lexical knowledge. Methods Inf Med. 1998;37:353–60.
229. McCray AT, Sponsler JL, Brylawski B, Browne AC. The role of lexical knowledge in bio-
medical text understanding. Proc SCAMC. 1987;103–7.
230. McCray AT, Bodenreider O, Malley JD, Browne AC. Evaluating UMLS strings for natural
language processing. Proc AMIA. 2001;448.
231. McDonald CJ. Standards for the electronic transfer of clinical data: progress, promises, and
the conductor’s wand. Proc SCAMC. 1990;9–14.
232. McDonald CJ, Hui SL. The analysis of humongous databases: problems and promises. Stat
Med. 1991;10:511–8.
233. McDonald CJ. Medical information systems of the future. MD Comput. 1989;6:82–7.
234. McDonald CJ, Hripcsak G. Data exchange standards for computer-based patient records. In:
Ball M, Collen MF, editors. Aspects of the computer-based patient record. New York:
Springer; 1992. p. 157–64.
235. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM, Overhage JM, et al. The Regenstrief medical record system: 20
years of experience in hospitals, clinics, and neighborhood health centers. MD Comput.
1992;9:206–16.
236. McDonald C, Blevins L, Glazener T, Haas J, Lemmon L, Meeks-Johnson J. Data base man-
agement, feedback control, and the Regenstrief medical record. J Med Syst. 1983;7:111–25.
237. McDonald CJ. Standards for the transmission of diagnostic results from laboratory comput-
ers to office practice computers: an initiative. Proc SCAMC. 1983;123.
238. McDonald CJ. Protocol-based computer reminders, the quality of care and the non-
perfectability of man. N Engl J Med. 1976;295:1351–5.
3 Development of Medical Information Systems (MISs) 203
239. Melski JW, Geer DE, Bleich HL. Medical information storage and retrieval using prepro-
cessed variables. Comput Biomed Res. 1978;11:613–21.
240. Mendonca EA, Cimino JJ, Johnson SB. Accessing heterogeneous sources of evidence to
answer clinical questions. J Biomed Inform. 2001;34:85–98.
241. Meystre SM, Haug PJ. Comparing natural language processing tools to extract medical prob-
lems from narrative text. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2005;525.
242. Meystre SM, Deshmukh VG, Mitchell J. A clinical use case to evaluate the i2b2 hive: predict-
ing asthma exacerbations. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2009;442.
243. Meystre S, Haug PJ. Medical problem and document model for natural language understand-
ing. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2003;4559.
244. Miller MC, Levkoff AH, Wong YM, Michel Y. Normal newborn nursery information system.
Proc AAMSI. 1983;154–62.
245. Miller PB, Strong RM. Clinical care and research using MEDUS/A, a medically oriented
data base management system. Proc SCAMC. 1978;288.
246. Moore FJ. Information technologies and health care: 1. Medical care as a system. Arch Intern
Med. 1970;125:157.
247. Morgan MM, Beaman PD, Shusman DJ, Hupp JA, Zielstorff RD, Barnett GO. Medical query
language. Proc SCAMC. 1981;322–5.
248. Murphy SN, Mendis M, Hackett K, et al. Architecture of the open-source clinical research
chart from informatics for integrating biology and the bedside. Proc AMIA. 2007;548–52.
249. Munoz F, Hersh W. MCM generator: a Java-based tool for generating medical metadata. Proc
AMIA. 1998;648.
250. Murnaghan JH. Uniform basic data sets for health statistical systems. Int J Epidemiol.
1978;7:263–9.
251. Murphy G, Waters K. The patient record as a primary component of medical computing. Proc
SCAMC. 1979;525.
252. Murphy SN, Morgan MM, Barnett GO, Chueh HC. Optimizing healthcare research data
warehouse design through past COSTAR query analysis. Proc AMIA. 1999;892.
253. Myers J, Gelblat M, Enterline HT. Automatic encoding of pathology data: computer-readable
surgical pathology data as a by-product of typed pathology reports. Arch Pathol. 1970;89:73.
254. Naisbitt J. Megatrends. New York: Warner Books; 1982.
255. Nelson S, Hoffman S, Kanekal H, Varma A. Making the most of RECONSIDER: an evalua-
tion of input strategies. Proc SCAMC. 1983;852.
256. Nielson J, Wilcox A. Linking structured text to medical knowledge. Proc MEDINFO.
2004;1777.
257. Nigrin DJ, Kohane IS. Scaling a data retrieval and mining application to the enterprise-wide
level. Proc AMIA. 1999;901–5.
258. NIH-DIR. General clinical research centers: a research resources directory. 7th ed. Bethesda:
Division of Research Services, NIH; 1988.
259. Niland JC, Rouse L. Clinical research needs. In: Lehmann HP, Roderer N, Abbott P, editors.
Aspects of electronic health record systems. New York: Springer; 2006. p. 31–46.
260. Nunnery AW. A medical information storage and statistical system (MICRO-MISSY). Proc
SCAMC. 1984;383.
261. Obermeier KK. Natural-language processing. Byte. 1987;12:225–32.
262. O’Connor MJ, Tu SW, Musen MA. Representation of temporal indeterminacy in clinical
databases. Proc AMIA. 2000;615–9.
263. Okubo RS, Russell WS, Dimsdale B, Lamson BG. Natural language storage and retrieval of
medical diagnostic information: experience at the UCLA Hospital and Clinics over a 10-year
period. Comput Programs Biomed. 1975;5:105–30.
264. Oliver DE, Shortliffe EH. Collaborative model development for vocabulary and guidelines.
Proc AMIA. 1996;826.
265. Oliver DE, Barnes MR, Barnett GO, Chueh HC, Cimino JJ, Clayton PD, et al. InterMed: an
Internet-based medical collaboratory. Proc AMIA. 1995;1023.
266. Olson NE, Sherertz DD, Erlbaum MS, Lipow SS, Suarez-Munist O, Fuller LF, et al.
Explaining your terminology to a computer. Proc AMIA. 1995;957.
204 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
294. Sager N, Friedman C, Chi E, Macleod C, Chen S, Johnson S. The analysis and processing of
clinical narrative. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;86:1101–5.
295. Sager N, Bross I, Story G, Bastedo P, Marsh E, Shedd D. Automatic encoding of clinical nar-
rative. Comput Biol Med. 1982;12:43–56.
296. Sager N, Kosaka M. A database of literature organized by relations. Proc SCAMC.
1983;692–5.
297. Sager N, Hirschman L, Lyman M. Computerized language processing for multiple use of
narrative discharge summaries. Proc SCAMC. 1978;330.
298. Sager N, Nhà nN, Lyman M, Tick LJ. Medical language processing with SGML display.
Proc AMIA. 1996;547.
299. Sager N, Lyman M, Bucknall C, Nhan N, Tick LJ. Natural language processing and the rep-
resentation of clinical data. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 1994;1:142–60.
300. Schoch NA, Sewell W. The many faces of natural language searching. Proc AMIA. 1995;914.
301. Seol Y, Johnson SB, Cimino JJ. Conceptual guidance in information retrieval. Proc AMIA.
2001;1026.
302. Shanas E. Long-term health care minimum data set. Washington, DC: US Department of
Health and Human Services, Public Health Service, Office of Health Research, Statistics, and
Technology, National Center for Health Statistics; 1980.
303. Shapiro AR. The SCAMP system for patient and practice management. J Med Syst.
1983;7:127–36.
304. Shortliffe EH. Medical computing: another basic science? Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:490.
305. Shusman DJ, Morgan MM, Zielstorff R, Barnett GO. The medical query language. Proc
SCAMC. 1983;742–5.
306. Sim I, Carini S, Tu S, Wynden R, et al. Federating human studies design data using the ontol-
ogy of clinical research. Proc AMIA CRI. 2010;51–5.
307. Simborg DW. An emerging standard for health communications: the HL7 standard. Healthc
Comput Commun. 1987;4:58–60.
308. Smith MB, Burke KE, Torgerson JS, Stollerman JE, Kern DC, Hardy WL, et al. Logical and
efficient conversation between patients and the telephone linked computer system. Proc
SCAMC. 1988;463.
309. Spackman KA. Rates of change in a large clinical terminology: three years experience with
SNOMED Clinical Terms. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2005;714.
310. Spackman KA, Hersh WR. Recognizing noun phrases in medical discharge summaries: an
evaluation of two natural language parsers. Proc AMIA. 1996;155.
311. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. Application of computers in clinical practice. JAMA.
1965;191:917–21.
312. Starr P. The social transformation of american medicine. New York: Basic Books; 1982.
313. Stearns MQ, Price C, Spackman KA, Wang AY. SNOMED clinical terms: overview of the
development process and project status. Proc AMIA. 2001;662.
314. Story G, Hirschman L. Data base design for natural language medical data. J Med Syst.
1982;6:77–88.
315. Summerfield AB, Empey S. Computer-based information systems for medicine: a survey and
brief discussion of current projects. Santa Monica: System Development Corporation; 1965.
316. Tatch D. Automatic encoding of medical diagnoses. 6th IBM Medical Symposium.
Poughkeepsie, NY: IBM; 1964.
317. Terdiman J. Ambulatory care computer systems in office practice: a tutorial. Proc AMIA.
1982;195–201.
318. Thompson Jr HK. Acquisition and reporting of medical history data. Proc 10th IBM Med
Symp. 1977;117–24.
319. Tuttle MS, Campbell KE, Olson NE, Nelson SJ, Suarez-Munist O, Erlbaum MS, et al.
Concept, code, term and word: preserving the distinctions. Proc AMIA. 1995;956.
320. Van Brunt E. Computer applications in medical care-some problems of the 1970’s: a clinical
perspective. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:454.
206 M.F. Collen and W. Ed Hammond
321. Van Brunt E, Collen M. Hospital computer systems. In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer
systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 114–47.
322. Van Brunt E. Factors which limit or constrain the development of medical data processing.
Informatics for Health and Social Care. 1976;1:293–9.
323. Wang X, Chused A, Elhadad N, Friedman C, Markatou M. Automated knowledge acquisition
from clinical narrative reports. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2008;783.
324. Ward RE, MacWilliam CH, Ye E, Russman AN, Richards RR, Huber M. Development and
multi-institutional implementation of coding and transmission standards for health outcomes
data. Proc AMIA. 1996;438.
325. Ware H, Mullett CJ, Jagannathan V. Natural language processing framework to assess clini-
cal conditions. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 2009;16:585–9.
326. Warner HR, Guo D, Mason D, et al. Enroute towards a computer based patient record: the
ACIS project. Proc AMIA. 1995;152–6.
327. Watson BL. Liability for failure to acquire or use computers in medicine. Proc SCAMC.
1981;879–83.
328. Webster S, Morgan M, Barnett GO. Medical query language: improved access to MUMPS
databases. Proc SCAMC. 1987;306.
329. Wells AH. The conversion of SNOP to the computer languages of medicine. Pathologists.
1971;25:371–8.
330. Weyl S, Fries J, Wiederhold G, Germano F. A modular self-describing clinical databank sys-
tem. Comput Biomed Res. 1975;8:279–93.
331. Whitehead SF, Streeter M. CLINFO – a successful technology transfer. Proc SCAMC.
1984;557.
332. Whiting-O’Keefe Q, Strong PC, Simborg DW. An automated system for coding data from
summary time oriented record (STOR). Proc SCAMC. 1983;735–7.
333. Willems JS. The relationship between the diffusion of medical technology and the organiza-
tion and economics of health care delivery. In: Medical technology. DHEW Pub No 79-3254.
1979. p. 92–104.
334. Williams GZ, Williams RL. Clinical laboratory subsystem. In: Collen M, editor. Hospital
computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 148–93.
335. Wood M. Uniform ambulatory medical care minimum data set. Report of the National
Committee on Vital and Health Statistics. DHSS No. (PHS) 81-1161. Washington, DC:
U.S. Govt Print Office; 1981.
336. Wynden R. Providing a high security environment for the integrated data repository lead
institution. Proc AMIA TBI. 2010;123.
337. Wynden R, Weiner MG, Sim I, Gabriel D, Casale M, Carini S, et al. Ontology mapping and
data discovery for the translational investigator. Proc AMIA TBI. 2010;66.
338. Xu H, Friedman C. Facilitating research in pathology using natural language processing.
Proc AMIA. 2003;107.
339. Yang H, Spasic I, Keane JA, Nenadic G. A text mining approach to the prediction of disease
status from clinical discharge summaries. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 2009;16:596–600.
340. Yianilos PN, Harbort Jr RA, Buss SR, Tuttle Jr EP. The application of a pattern matching
algorithm to searching medical record text. Proc SCAMC. 1978;308.
341. Zacks MP, Hersh WR. Developing search strategies for detecting high quality reviews in a
hypertext test collection. Proc SCAMC. 1998;663–7.
342. Zeng Q, Cimino JJ. Mapping medical vocabularies to the unified medical language system.
Proc AMIA. 1996;105–9.
343. Zeng Q, Cimino JJ. Evaluation of a system to identify relevant patient information and its
impact on clinical information retrieval. Proc AMIA. 1999;642.
344. Zeng Q, Gainer V, Goryachev S. Using derived concepts from electronic medical records for
discovery reseach in informatics for integrating biology and bedside. Proc AMIA Annu
Symp. 2010.
Chapter 4
Medical Databases and Patient Record
Systems
Sections of this chapter are reproduced from author Collen’s earlier work Computer Medical
Databases, Springer (2012).
Author Collen was deceased at the time of publication. Bleich and Slack edited this chapter on his
behalf after his death.
M.F. Collen (deceased)
W.V. Slack, M.D. (*) • H.L. Bleich, M.D.
Harvard Medical School, Division of Clinical Informatics, Department of Medicine,
Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, Brookline, MA, USA
e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected]
Physicians have always followed the teachings of the famed clinician, Sir William
Osler, to study and learn from patients and from their medical records, in order to
improve their knowledge of diseases. Physicians continue to learn by taking a his-
tory of the patient’s medical problems, performing a physical examination, and
recording their findings in the medical record. To confirm a preliminary diagnosis
and to rule-out other possible diagnoses, physicians order tests and procedures that
may involve the clinical laboratory, the department of radiology, and other clinical
support services. After reviewing the information received from these services, phy-
sicians refine their diagnoses and prescribe treatment. For an unusual or complex
medical problem, physicians can refer the patient to appropriate clinical specialists.
In addition, they can review reports of appropriate therapies by consulting the medi-
cal literature.
In the past, the patients’ paper-based files were called patients’ charts, and the
charts were aggregated and stored by medical record librarians within a medical
records department or chart room. With the advent of electronic computers, some
medical facilities began to store patient’s data, not on paper, but rather electronically.
Computer scientists called such a collection of computer-stored patients’ records a
medical database. Health care providers called it a computer-stored patient record
(CPR), an electronic patient record (EPR), an electronic health record (EHR), or an
electronic medical record (EMR). The most important component of a medical infor-
mation system is the electronic medical record that contains the data associated with
the care of a patient. In addition to the electronic medical record, the medical informa-
tion system of a hospital or a medical practice contains administrative data needed for
clinic scheduling, medical record tracking, insurance coverage, and the like.
In the 1950s with the early development of computers, users began to bring work
to a central mainframe computer to be batch-processed. The data were collected,
entered, and merged into computer files that were stored on magnetic tape, and a
file-management system was designed to enter, store, and retrieve the data. In the
1960s time-shared mainframe computers, that communicated by telephone lines or
coaxial cable to remote data-entry terminals and printers, enabled users to process
their data concurrently. Time-shared computers provided a more acceptable turn-
around time for data services. Initially stored on magnetic tape, data soon moved to
random-access, magnetic drums and then discs that were better suited for query and
retrieval. High costs for computer storage and slow retrieval times limited what
could be done, however.
In the 1970s with the emergence of lower cost, magnetic random-access disc
storage, subsystem databases could be more readily merged into larger databases.
As the number of databases increased, there was a need for an integrating database
management system. The retrieval of subsets of selected data from various data-
bases required both re-organization of the stored data, and an index to the locations
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 209
of the various data subsets. Attempts were made to design more efficient databases
to make them independent of their applications and subsystems, so that a well-
designed database could process almost any type of data. Terdiman [317] credited
the development of microcomputer technology in the 1970s with many of the sub-
sequent advances in database management.
In the 1980s microcomputers and minicomputers were increasingly used for
small databases, often called registries. As storage technology became more effi-
cient and larger, and cheaper storage devices became available, computer-based
registries expanded their storage capacity for larger amounts of data, and were then
generally referred to as databases. When huge storage capacity became available at
relatively low cost, very large collections of data became known as data warehouses.
Helvey [175] reported that almost 100 medical online databases on a variety of
subjects were distributed by a variety of information producers, vendors, and carri-
ers. The year of 1988 was called the year of the database by Bryan [60], who
reported that more than 20 new or improved database management systems became
available in that year. In 1989 the total number of computer-stored databases in the
world was estimated to be about five million. Most of these databases were small,
but some were considered huge, as was the 1990 U.S. census – a million-million
bytes, or a terabyte, of data [140]. In 2014, as this is being written, a terabyte of data
can easily fit within a laptop computer.
Computer-stored medical databases were considered by Coltri [94] to be one of
the most important developments in medical computer software engineering, and to
be the equivalent of the heart and the brain of a medical information system (MIS).
Databases were defined by Wiederhold [360, 363] as collections of related data so
organized that usable data could be extracted. Databases were defined by Frawley
et al. [140] as logically integrated collections of data in one or more computer files,
organized to facilitate the efficient storage, change, query, and retrieval of informa-
tion. With the advent of medical informatics, the most important computer-stored
database needed to support the practice of medicine became the electronic patient
record (EPR).
served, and to provide a resource for the systematic retrieval of relevant data from
patients’ records for any desired primary, secondary, clinical research purpose.
Blum [38] advised that medical databases should be designed so that they could:
(1) be used for high volume activities; (2) be non-redundant with each element
stored in the database only once; (3) ensure consistency of information; (4) be flex-
ible to allow for change; (5) when storing active patient records, the clinical data-
base needed to store not only the patients’ data, but also other associated transactional
data, such as when, where, how, and by whom the patients’ data were collected.
The requirements and structural designs of a medical database specified that it be
compatible with the objectives of the medical enterprise of which it was a part.
Since a medical care database usually operated within a larger medical information
system (MIS), whether the medical database served as the primary electronic patient
record (EPR), or served as a secondary medical database such as a clinical research
database with its data derived from the EPRs, both had some similar basic func-
tional requirements.
Technical requirements and structural designs for medical databases were
described by Wiederhold [351–363] at Stanford University. Wiederhold, who made
important contributions to the development of medical databases, emphasized that
the effectiveness of a database depended on its relevance to its organizational pur-
poses, and that a database management system was needed to control, enter, store,
process, and retrieve the data. He advised that when using very large databases, it
was helpful to apply automated methods for the acquisition and retrieval of textual
data.
Data modeling designs to provide the conceptual schema that represented the
information in clinical databases were considered by Johnson [189] to be as impor-
tant for large medical databases as was their structural designs. Johnson defined the
conceptual schema for a database as a representation of all of the data types required
to manage the data process, whether using a hierarchical, a relational, or an object-
oriented structural database design, or whether using a combination of database
structural designs. Johnson advised that the structural design of a database needed
to provide rapid retrieval of data for individual users, and that it had to adapt to
changing information needs of growth and new technology. He also emphasized
that the primary purpose of the database structural design was to implement the
conceptual schema. To properly build a database, Johnson further advised that it
was necessary to develop a model of the database that defined its functional require-
ments, its technical requirements, and its structural design. The database model
needed to provide a formal description – a conceptual schema – of the data to be
generated and how the data were related. Thus, the users of the database needed to
fully define its functional requirements as to what they wanted the database and its
database-management system to do.
Since a medical database usually operated within a database-management sys-
tem, Johnson [189] advised that the medical database needed to be compatible with
the information system of the enterprise of which it was a part. It also needed to be
operationally and structurally independent of applications programs even though it
contained data produced by these programs.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 211
Coltri [94] noted that although a single structural database model could initially
allow for simpler coordination, operation, and reporting, as databases enlarged and
became more complex with many functional relationships, and as their components
required frequent changes in data content, the ability to design a single, large data-
base that could provide efficient querying became increasingly difficult. Furthermore,
as databases grew larger they often developed problems caused by redundant data.
Hierarchical databases were considered by Coltri [94] to be the simplest and the
earliest structural design used for medical databases. For a hierarchical database the
connections between files, or between fields within files, needed to be defined at the
start of the database. The data were organized in what was usually described as a
parent-child relationship; where each “parent” could have many “children”, but
each “child” had only one “parent”. Hierarchical data subclasses with inheritance of
attributes could also appear in other database designs, such as in relational and
object-oriented databases.
Coltri considered as the best known early example of a hierarchically structured,
medical database, the one developed in the 1960s by Neil Pappalardo working in the
laboratory of Dr. Octo Barnett and associates [21, 24, 165, 195]. Their Massachusetts
General Hospital Utility Multi-Programming System (MUMPS) was designed for
building and managing dynamic hierarchical databases with interactive computing
applications and online transactional processing. MUMPS provided a good struc-
ture for medical databases with all their complexity, since its hierarchical structure
enabled a more complex design than did a relational table with rows and columns.
In the 1980s Meditech, the Department of Defense, and the Veterans Hospitals
began installing their MUMPS-based medical information systems; and in the
2000s Epic was also MUMPS-based.
Karpinski [195] described an information storage and retrieval system (MISAR),
which would find widespread use in the research analyses of important clinical prob-
lems, such as cerebral vascular accidents, berylliosis, and psoriasis. Another early
example of a hierarchically structured medical database was that developed in the
1960s by Davis [107, 108, 110, 111], Terdiman [317], Collen, and associates at
Kaiser Permanente in Oakland, California, to store electronic medical records
(EMRs) for about one million patients. The design of each patient’s record included
12 levels of storage that allowed direct access by the patient’s unique medical record
number to each of the patient’s computer-defined office visits, which were subdivided
into medically meaningful parts (as “tree branches”), such as laboratory data, medical
diagnoses, and clinical services. The database was designed to store all data received.
Relational databases and their management systems were developed in the 1960s
for large, shared databases by Codd [77–79] while at the IBM Research Center in
San Jose. Codd required that all data in a relational database be in the form of two-
dimensional tables with uniquely labeled rows and columns. Every data element
was logically accessible through the use of the names of its table and its column.
Data transformations resulted from following defined logical rules. In a relational
database the data were organized into files or tables of fixed-length records; each
record was an ordered list of values, with one value for each field. The information
about each field’s name and potential values was maintained in a separate metada-
212 M.F. Collen et al.
tabase. The relational database model, because of its simplicity and power, soon
became dominant in use, and in the 1970s Structured Query Language (SQL) was
developed by Chamberlin and Boyce at IBM to construct, manage, and query rela-
tional databases [330]. SQL soon became the standard language used for the pro-
gramming of relational databases. In 1979 a commercial relational database named
ORACLE became available from the ORACLE Corporation. In the 1980s Ashton-
Tate developed dBASE for microcomputers [99]. Johnson [190] described an exten-
sion of SQL for data warehouses that enabled analysts to designate groups of rows
that could be manipulated and aggregated into large groups of data, and then be
analyzed in a variety of ways to solve a number of analytic problems. Miller [244]
at the University of Pittsburgh described the use of a commercial relational data-
base-management system, called System 1022, that provided its own programming
language (1022 DPL), and that permitted clinical data from large groups of patients
to be entered, stored, queried, and analyzed for clinical studies. Friedman [143] and
associates at Columbia University noted that the typical relational design for a clini-
cal database could seriously impair query performance because a patient’s data was
typically scattered over many different tables. To circumvent this problem, a query
language needed to be added.
Marrs [222] and Kahn at Washington University, St. Louis, described a distrib-
uted relational database-management system across multiple sites comprising a
single enterprise, when they extended their clinical database for Barnes Hospital to
include data from Jewish Hospital in BJC HealthCare – a merger of Barnes-Jewish,
Inc. and Christian Health Services – that included 15 hospitals and other health care
facilities. After considering alternative approaches, they chose to add the data from
Jewish Hospital to their database. They then mapped the data from other facilities
into their database and adjusted for differences in syntax and semantics in patient
identifiers, medication formulary codes, diagnosis codes, and other information in
their patients’ records.
Multi-dimensional relational databases were developed as relational databases
grew in size and developed multiple dimensions. Relational database structures
were considered to be multi-dimensional when they contained multiple attributes,
such as time periods, locations, product codes, and other attributes that could be
defined in advance and aggregated in hierarchies. Some commercial search-and-
query programs, such as Online Analytic Processing (OLAP), were designed for
very large relational databases. These generally stored data in a relational structured
design, and they used aggregations of data built from a fact-table according to
specified dimensions. The combinations of all possible aggregations in the database
were expected to be able to provide answers to every query of the stored data that
could be anticipated [79].
Connolly [99] described a way of visualizing a multi-dimensional database by
beginning with a flat, two-dimensional table of data, adding another dimension to
form a three-dimensional cube, or hypercube, and then adding cubes of data within
cubes of data, with each side of each cube being called a “dimension.”
Pendse [268] described in some detail the history of Online Analytic Processing,
and credited the publication in 1962 by Iverson of A Programming Language (APL)
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 213
Lindberg [213] noted that practitioners of medicine needed the help of computers to
store and retrieve facts needed to care for their patients; to place these facts in the
spectrum of similar observations on other patients in the same hospital or region;
and to keep abreast of the ever growing mass of new medical knowledge.
Medical databases can be classified in accordance with their objectives, which
can be to serve as patients’ electronic records in support of clinical care, as special-
ized databases to support medical research, as databases designed to support finan-
cial claims, or for other objectives. Medical databases collect, integrate, and store
data from various sources. They are usually considered to be primary databases if
the data were initially collected and used for the direct purposes of the user, and to
be secondary databases when data derived from primary databases are stored sepa-
rately and used for other objectives [156].
Medical research databases may be primary databases when the clinical data
were collected to support clinical research, such as for genetics or for clinical trials.
But most research databases are secondary, in that they contain selected, de-
identified clinical data extracted from primary medical databases used for clinical
care. In contrast, in primary patient care databases, the medical record of each
patient needs to contain all of the information collected for all of the medical prob-
lems of that individual patient. In a secondary research database, it is usually neces-
216 M.F. Collen et al.
sary to extract and transfer the selected data from the primary patient-record
database into the secondary research database; and all patient data transferred from
a primary patient-record database has additional special legal requirements for
assuring the data validity, data security, and strict privacy and confidentiality of each
patient’s data. Garfolo [150] emphasized the importance of the need to de-identify
patient data when a clinical database is also used for research.
Claims databases are maintained to account for the payments of financial claims
for provided medical services. Among the largest of these are the databases for the
Medicare and the Medicaid Programs created by the Social Security Amendment of
1965. The Medicare Program has been funded entirely by the Federal Government
and is administered by the Federal Medicare Agency within the Department of
Health and Human Services. It provides partial coverage for medical care to virtu-
ally all individuals aged 65 years and older. The Medicaid Program comprises a
group of 54 programs supported by state and federal funds, and it provides coverage
for medical care for economically disadvantaged and disabled persons. It is admin-
istered by the states with Federal oversight. In 1972 the Medicaid Management
Information System (MMIS) was created to provide fiscal and management control,
with defined minimum standards that each state had to meet. When a claims data-
base is used for medical research, the conclusions may be limited to the selected
population. In addition, the medical accuracy of diagnoses used for reimbursement
has been questioned. Medical record databases of clinical care are generally consid-
ered to have more accurate data since they are primarily used for direct patient care,
and clinicians need objective quantitative information to weigh the risks versus the
benefits of each drug ordered [70].
Large medical centers often have many specialized clinical databases for various
inpatient and outpatient clinical services in addition to databases for clinical support
systems for the clinical laboratory, radiology, pharmacy, and others [7]. As a result,
they usually need a distributed database-management system to link them. Each
clinical subsystem’s database needs extract-transfer-load (ETL) programs to move
data to-and-from its subsystem database and the central, integrated, clinical data-
base. Secondary clinical records include data abstracted from the primary patient
record. Clinicians have long been encouraged to study their patients’ records, to
abstract data of interest from these primary patients’ records, and to store such data
in secondary databases such as in registries for use by investigators for clinical,
epidemiological, or health services research [34].
Metadatabases are developed to: (1) store metadata that describe the primary
data contained in a database; (2) provide a data dictionary with definitions of terms,
and a list of coded data in the database with their codes; (3) serve as a thesaurus to
recognize different terms that have similar meanings; and (4) provide a lexicon of
standard, accepted, defined, and correctly spelled terms. A metadatabase needs to
contain associated relevant information to aid in the storage and retrieval of data; by
providing linkages to other data items and files; by providing keys to related tables;
by providing logical connections for data presentation, interactive validation, and
data extraction; by permitting ad hoc query; and by providing users with interfaces
for any metadata additions or corrections. A data dictionary is usually initiated as a
part of a metadatabase by selecting commonly used terms from a standard medical
dictionary and from related medical literature. It needs to permit the addition of new
terms – new data items – such as for new procedures. As lexicons became the basis
for automated natural-language processing, they usually included syntactical infor-
mation, such as whether the word was a noun, verb, or other, as well as semantic
information, such as the meaning in the language of medicine [225]. It was soon
obvious that medical text processing required a comprehensive data dictionary, a
lexicon of standard, accepted, defined, and correctly spelled terms; and that such a
dictionary had to list all data items stored in the computer database, with their defi-
nitions, and with any associated information and codes required for their storage
and retrieval, as well as linkages to other data items and files.
For a primary patient record database, its metadatabase needed to provide any
special instructions for conducting clinical procedures; needed to describe all pro-
cesses and procedures such as clinical laboratory tests; and needed to specify the
normal and the “alert” boundary limits for each clinical test and procedure. Warner
[337] emphasized that the purpose of a metadatabase was to minimize the chance of
ambiguity in data representation between the point of data entry and the point at
which the data were used. Anderson [3] credited the Veterans Administration (VA)
with publishing the first data dictionary as a part of the VA’s computer-based medi-
cal records. Hammond [169, 171, 172] and Stead described in some detail the meta-
database developed for Duke University’s TMR (The Medical Record). Their
metadatabase included patients’ identification data, and it defined and coded all
clinical variables including patients’ medical problems, diagnostic studies, and ther-
apies. They used their metadatabase as a dictionary to define the codes for their
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 219
computer-based, clinical laboratory system that was linked to their TMR system.
The metadatabase contained patients’ demographic and examination data, clinical
reports and messages, and professional fees and accounting data. An alphabetically
arranged thesaurus provided definitions of synonyms. Codes and their text equiva-
lents were defined in the metadatabase. The user could enter a code directly or type
text and let the program find the code. Their dictionary permitted modification and
updating of specific functions, and it allowed for differences between various spe-
cialties and clinics. Major sections of the dictionary were devoted to system speci-
fications, medical problems, laboratory studies, providers’ names, supplies, and
therapies; demographic data, subjective, and physical examination data; and places
of encounter, professional fees, accounting, messages, and report control.
As an example of the type and format of information contained in the dictionary,
the medical problem section included the problem name, any corresponding stan-
dard coding scheme, and a flag to identify the problem as temporary or permanent.
An alphabetically arranged section permitted synonym definitions. A cross-
reference section listed possible causes and manifestations of the given problem;
gave subjective and physical parameters to be followed for that problem; recom-
mended studies and therapies for that problem; and identified items to be displayed
in a flow sheet specific to that problem.
Ostrowski [265] employed The Medical Record in a group practice in Los
Angeles and found the data dictionary to be an important part of the database-
management software. In addition to a data dictionary, a thesaurus of accepted syn-
onyms was required. Although it was possible in a metadatabase to search and
retrieve computer-stored text by matching desired words, it was easier to search and
retrieve by numbers and letters.
Genetics is the study of heredity. Genetics databases are used to plot a family pedi-
gree, to manage clinical care, and to provide decision support for the diagnosis and
treatment of genetic diseases [241]. Modern genetics can be traced to Mendel,
whose plant breeding experiments in the mid-1800s produced the underlying basis
of genetics [29]. Watson [343] and Crick described the structure of deoxyribonu-
cleic acid (DNA), and this radically changed the study of genetics and initiated new
generations of genetic databases and genomic databases. Each cell in the human
body contains 46 chromosome – strands of DNA composed of 23 chromosome
pairs. One chromosome of each pair is inherited from each parent. DNA is com-
posed of four nucleic acids: guanine (G), cytosine (C), adenine (A), and thymine (T)
that are formed into base pairs. Guanine (G) always pairs with cytosine (C), while
adenine (A) always pairs with thymine (T). These base pairs of nucleic acids are
linked into chains that are wound in a spiral called a double helix. A specific group
of base pairs is called a gene, and each gene is found in a specific location on a
chromosome. Chromosomes carry 50,000–100,000 genes, which produce the
220 M.F. Collen et al.
proteins that carry out specific functions in human development and cellular activ-
ity. DNA contains instructions for making all of the proteins that our bodies need.
The map of the proteins in the human body is called the proteome. A mutation is a
genetic disorder that results from a cell division in which there is a change from the
normal sequence of base pairs in a gene. If the mutation occurs in only one gene – if
the other gene remains intact and the protein(s) which that gene encodes can still be
made – then the individual may be a carrier and not show the disease; but if both
paired genes are defective the person usually displays the genetic disease [346].
Genetic linkage databases must be able to satisfy the complex hierarchical struc-
tures of patients’ demographic and genetic data and deal with the pedigrees, the
kindred or family trees that are used in genetic research. Genetic linkage refers to
the tendency of genes to be inherited together as a result of their proximity on the
same chromosome. Such linkage can be quantified by measuring recombination
frequencies from family studies. A computer can help genetic researchers deter-
mine the linkage of genes within a chromosome.
Genetic linkage databases began to be reported in 1959 when McKusick, at the
Johns Hopkins University described a genealogical database with census and vital
statistics data for 18,000 Old Order Amish who were living in Lancaster County,
Pennsylvania, and in Holmes County, Ohio [90]. McKusick’s goal was to collect
data on all Amish in the area, who then numbered about 50,000. He gathered a com-
plete census by family units, recording for every individual their date of birth (and
death) and date of marriage. He then assembled a total genealogy by tracing ances-
tors as completely and as far back as possible. In the case of this relatively closed
population, to which almost no new members had been added since its founding, the
genealogy aimed for completeness. Between the 1700s when the Amish began to
arrive in America and 1986, the total genealogy consisted of at about ten genera-
tions. Output of the program included the printed pedigree up to 12 generations, the
cumulative percentage completeness of the pedigree for each generation, the cumu-
lative consanguinity in each generation, the common ancestors together with their
contribution to the total consanguinity, and if desired, the sex-linked coefficient of
consanguinity. Medical data, blood group, sociological and other data were stored
with the unique identification number of each individual [236, 239]. McKusick
[235] described the problems involved in studying genetic linkage in man as involv-
ing the identification of genetic loci that are on the same chromosome, and the
determination of how far apart these loci are.
It was usually easy to determine if a trait was determined by a gene on the X
chromosome as opposed to a gene on an autosomal chromosome. In 1962 McKusick
[237, 238] published a catalog of traits in man linked to the X chromosome. He
periodically revised this catalog, and in 1966 published his classic book on the
Mendelian Inheritance in Man, which aimed to be a comprehensive gene encyclo-
pedia. In 1987 the Online Mendelian Inheritance in Man (OMIM) also became
available by online computer retrieval; and the 1988 edition of OMIM listed over
2,000 genetic disorders.
Murphy [256] and associates at Johns Hopkins University used a computer to
estimate genetic linkage. Using data from large human pedigrees of gene linkage
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 221
problems, they devised a computer program to calculate the probability that two
genes on the same chromosome would part company during hereditary transmis-
sion. Their program determined the genotypic possibilities for each person in the
pedigree, calculated the probability of obtaining the pedigree for various crossover
values, and expressed the results as a logarithm of the ratio of this probability to that
for a specified crossover value. From these calculations, they could determine con-
fidence limits for their estimates [255].
Chung [74] at the University of Wisconsin, reported on the early use of a library
of programs called SEGRAN, which employed IBM 650 and Control Data
Corporation model CDC 1604 computers to study human pedigrees in a variety of
diseases. They also studied the genetic effects on children of the ABO blood groups
of their parents where incompatibility was found to cause a 12 % loss of incompat-
ible children. They developed physical maps that could specify actual distances
between landmarks along the chromosomes [51].
In 1975, the department of medical genetics at the Indiana University School of
Medicine designed and implemented a Medical Genetics Acquisition and Data
Transfer System (MEGADATS). They collected human pedigree data and labora-
tory test results on appropriate individuals, performed retrievals from the database
within or across several pedigrees, and maintained confidentiality of the patient
data. The system was designed to store and retrieve information collected on
approximately 15,000 families seen over 14 years. In 1978 the database included
525,000 individuals. Retrievable information included family pedigrees, genotyp-
ing, and physical and laboratory diagnostic information. The linkage of family
members was achieved by a set of pointers to other family records [194]. In 1983
the MEGADATS database continued to store data on the 525,000 individuals in the
15,000 families. It was used to study Huntington’s disease, a hereditary disorder of
the central nervous system which can cause rapid, jerky, involuntary movements. A
Huntington’s chorea project was initiated with the aim of searching for the basic
defect, for improving methods of diagnosis, and for developing more effective
methods of treatment and prevention [153]. Gersting [154] also described in some
detail a revised version, MEGADATS-4, as a relational database-management sys-
tem that required little or no programming to carry out a variety of genetics applica-
tions, and that included patient’s files related by family-member fields to manage
pedigrees.
Skolnick and associates [304] at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
(LDS) operated an extensive program, initiated in 1906, for collecting and storing
genealogical records of the membership of the Mormon Church Skolnick’s project
began as an extraction of data from these records for the construction of family
genealogies, which would ultimately be linked with medical data to investigate
genetic factors in various diseases. In 1973, the system began to use video terminals
for data entry, using as many as six terminal operators to enter coded data on indi-
viduals and families. A team of researchers at the University of Utah began to use
these records to develop a database linked to medical records to investigate the
genetic transmission of several diseases. In 1974, they introduced a system of auto-
matic record linkage that by 1978 resulted in the computerized genealogy of 170,000
222 M.F. Collen et al.
Utah families, with data for 1.2 million persons stored in a dedicated database on a
Data General Eclipse minicomputer [28].
In 1978 they published the initial results of their first effort to use the LDS
records to study demography. These large sibships led to pedigrees of 2,000–5,000
individuals over six or seven generations for Mormon pioneers [303]. In 1980 these
investigators described their general database system, the Genealogical Information
System (GENISYS), as using a high-level query language that allowed researchers
to access data without the need for prior training. It provided the ability to analyze
selected data sets, to add new data to existing files, and to accommodate familial
relationships present in genetic data [118]. In 1980 they also reported a new basis
for constructing high-level, genetic-linkage maps by detecting DNA sequence poly-
morphisms as polymorphic marker loci linking groups with similar restriction frag-
ment length polymorphisms (RFLPs), and then using pedigree analysis to establish
high-level linkage relationships that could be useful in developing models for
human inheritance [54].
In 1988 the LDS group reported developing a relational database for their Utah
population called the Human Genetics Database Management System (HGDBMS)
that facilitated data collection and retrieval for human genetics research. In addition
to the representation of pedigree data, it also included programs for the management
of clinical parameters, blood samples, and genotype processing. It was used for
genetic and epidemiologic studies, and was designed to be extended and customized
to fit the needs of different genetic applications by adding relations, attributes,
forms, and reports. Since their genetic analyses, such as gene mapping, linkage
studies, and segregation analysis, were designed around studies of pedigrees, the
representation of genealogical data was a major issue for the development of the
genetics database management system. The system design had to incorporate the
ability to link individuals and families together to form genealogical records.
Seuchter [291] wrote that a genotype processing unit contained information about
the genotyping of the extracted DNA. The genotype knowledge unit contained
genotypic information gathered during the different studies.
The management of human genetic data involves a large number of different data
structures including pedigrees, clinical data, genotypic data, and laboratory infor-
mation, all received from a variety of sources and at different times. To analyze
pedigree structures linked to family trees, Prokosch [269] developed a rule-based
expert system for the Utah Population that performed the preliminary analysis of
pedigree data. For a simple pedigree, this could lead to the final result, but when the
program detected a complexity, for example, consanguinity, it would automatically
trigger further analysis with the appropriate procedure. Galland [149] and colleague
described in some detail a gene mapping expert system (GMES) that they added to
help in locating genes on one of the 23 pairs of chromosomes. They used an expert
system shell called frames plus objects (FROBS) that allowed a mixed approach
using objects-and-rules capabilities and algorithms that provided an interface to
further programming.
Mitchell and associates [251] at the University of Missouri, Columbia, described
their Clinical Genetics Data-Management System (MEDGEN). They further
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 223
reported the development of their Genetics Office Automation System (GOAS) for
the Medical Genetics Unit of the University of Missouri that was implemented on
an IBM PC/XT personal computer. GOAS included primary databases for the
records of their patients. In addition, it had secondary reference databases that con-
tained diagnostic and family data that were linked by a six-digit patient number to
the primary databases, using a form that was completed from GOAS databases and
sent to the Missouri Genetics Disease Program [106].
Buyse [63] described Birth Defects Information System (BDIS), an online,
computer-based, information retrieval and decision-support system that contained
data from over 1,000 types of birth defects. Also, the Missouri Information Retrieval
Facility provided summaries of current clinical information on a broad range of
birth defects. Its Diagnostic Assist Facility provided interactive decision support for
complex and multi-system birth defects and genetic disorders. By comparing signs
and symptoms from a patient’s record with those of the more than 600 conditions in
the knowledge base, the program could suggest potential diagnoses and provide
information on what was needed to confirm a diagnosis. Finally, Yu [368] at
Columbia University in New York described a database of genetic diseases and fam-
ily histories for 22,292 patients collected from electronic medical discharge sum-
maries using a natural language processing system.
The Genetic Sequence Data Bank (GenBank) was chartered to provide a com-
puter database of all known DNA and RNA sequences and related biological and
bibliographic information. GenBank was founded in 1982 under a contract by the
National Institute of General Medical Sciences (NIGMS) with IntelliGenetics, Inc.
of Mountain View, California, and co-sponsored by the National Library of Medicine
(NLM) and by the Department of Energy. In the mid-1980s it was managed at
Stanford University. By 1989 GenBank contained data on 30 million nucleotides,
the building blocks of DNA and RNA, in 26,000 different entries in biological
material and organisms ranging from viruses to humans. Cross-referencing was
established with the Human Gene Mapping Library, allowing users of GenBank to
identify and compare newly sequenced human genes with those mapped previously
[315]. The Human Gene Map was to fix each gene to a particular region of one of
the 23 pairs of human chromosomes, and to define the complete set of sequences of
adenine, thymine, cytosine, and guanine that make up a human being. By 1989, less
than 2 % of the estimated 100,000 human genes had been mapped [242].
The goal of the human genome project was to provide new approaches to the
treatment of the more than 3,000 inherited genetic diseases, many of which were
already mapped to specific chromosomes. The project was authorized with the hope
that it would link existing databases and help disseminate crucial information to
researchers around the world. Collins [93] reviewed how changes in chromosomes
and mutations can help identify disease-causing genes, and how mutations in spe-
cific genes can cause disease. He wrote that most of the genes that cause genetic
disorders were identified by functional cloning, which required biochemical or
structural information about the defect underlying the disease, and he listed recent
targets of positional cloning in the human genome. In 1992, management of
GenBank was transferred to the National Center for Biological Information, which
224 M.F. Collen et al.
now maintains on the World Wide Web the Human Gene Map that charts the loca-
tions of genes in the 23 pairs of human chromosomes.
Human genome databases began to be developed in many academic centers to
study the association of genes with diseases, and to find commonality between
seemingly dissimilar clinical disorders. This research was aimed at a better under-
standing of the etiology of disease, and at the development of more effective drugs
and treatments. A collaborative genome center database was reported by Miller
[245] and associates at Yale University School of Medicine that had Internet col-
laboration with the Albert Einstein College of Medicine. Graves [164] and associ-
ates at the Baylor College of Medicine described their genome database for the
Baylor Human Genome Center. Evans [129, 130] and associates at Creighton
University applied data mining algorithms to family history data to automatically
create hereditary disease patterns. They noted that in most hereditary syndromes, to
find a correspondence between genetic mutations within a gene (genotype) and a
patient’s clinical history (phenotype) was challenging. To define possible genotype
and phenotype correlations, they used data mining technology whereby the clinical
cancer histories of gene-mutation-positive patients were used to help define valid
patterns for a specific DNA intragenic mutation. For each hereditary disease, such
as hereditary colon cancer or breast cancer, a set of rules that contained clinical data
were evaluated by clinical experts as relevant, valid, and likely to classify a patient
as positive or negative for having the cancer. They applied their algorithm to patients
with family histories suggestive of hereditary colon cancer and found the conclu-
sions of their computer recognizer and those of clinical experts to be in close agree-
ment. They developed rules for data mining algorithms derived from breast cancer
patients known to have the BRCA1 or BRCA2 genes, and found that “true” patterns
for a specific DNA intragenic mutation could be distinguished from “false” patterns
with a high degree of reliability. They also reported using data mining algorithms to
characterize DNA mutations by patients’ clinical features.
Weiland [346] at Kaiser Permanente (KP) Northwest Region described the KP
Human Genome Project that was initiated to study the clinical impact of genetic
information, and to develop guidelines as to who should be screened and who
should receive genetic counseling. When completed, this Human Genome Project
was expected to identify about 4,000 genetic disorders, and to assist clinicians in the
diagnosis and management of genetic diseases. Weiland found that physicians with-
out genetics training were ill equipped to interpret complex genetic tests or to pro-
vide genetic counseling. In 2005, a Research Program for Genes, Environment, and
Health (RPGEH), affiliated with the University of California in San Francisco, was
launched by Kaiser Permanente’s Northern California Division of Research to study
genetic and environmental factors that influence common, important diseases. This
research established registries for cancer, diabetes, asthma, autoimmune disease,
osteoporosis, obesity, and other diseases. Based on a membership of more than
three million Kaiser Health Plan members in Northern California, the clinical,
genetic, and other information from more than 500,000 consenting members were
collected from their electronic medical records, from samples of their saliva or
blood and from their self-reported health surveys (www.rpgeh.kaiser.org).
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 225
Internet medical databases were used by Anderson [6] and associates at the
University of California-Fresno Medical Center to provide medical information for
their clinical decision-support system by adding online access to the National
Library of Medicine’s MEDLINE and other databases. They modified the
CONSIDER program developed by Lindberg [213] and the RECONSIDER pro-
gram developed by Blois [33] to use for differential diagnoses, and they added pro-
visions for time-series analysis, electrocardiogram signal-analysis, radiology
digital-image analysis, and an images database. Chaney [71] and associates at
Baylor College in Houston, reported developing an Integrated Academic Information
Management System (IAIMS) supported by the National Library of Medicine
(NLM) that used hypertext in a Virtual Network employing UNIX software and
SUN workstations.
In the 1990s Internet medical databases began to be used by some medical infor-
mation systems for Web-based, electronic patient records (EPRs). On the other
hand, McDonald et al. [226] wrote that provisions to maintain adequate confidenti-
ality of data were not yet available via the Internet. In 1994 Willard [364] and
226 M.F. Collen et al.
and graphics over the World Wide Web. OncoLink software was implemented on
DEC 3000 AXP Model 800 computers.
Hersh et al. [178] described CliniWeb, a searchable database of clinical informa-
tion accessible on the Web that provided a database of clinically-oriented, Universal
Resource Locators (URLs) indexed with the Medical Subject Headings or MeSH
terms, the controlled vocabulary used by the National Library of Medicine to index
the biomedical literature. CliniWeb served as a test bed for research in defining the
optimal methods to build and evaluate a clinically oriented Web resource. Hersh
also observed that the National Library of Medicine, the Centers for Disease Control
and Prevention, the Food and Drug Administration, the National Cancer Institute,
and other health-related government agencies all used the Web to disseminate infor-
mation free of charge.
Lowe [219] and associates at the University of Pittsburgh, reviewed the evolution
of the Internet and of the Web, and described them as rapidly evolving from a
resource used primarily by the research community, to a global information network
offering a wide range of services. They described the Web as a network-based, dis-
tributed hypertext system, with links to component objects or nodes (such as text,
sound, images and video) embedded in a document or in a set of documents. The
nodes could be linked to associated nodes to form a database, and the user could
navigate from one node to another based on the user’s needs rather than on fixed
data linkages defined in more usual information-retrieval systems. They described
their WebReport system that used a Web-based database to store clinical images
with their associated textual reports for diagnostic procedures, including gastroin-
testinal endoscopy, radiology, and surgical pathology. Their WebReport used the
HyperText Markup Language to provide physicians in their offices with ready
access to radiographic images and associated reports [220]. The history of the
Internet and of the World Wide Web and their contributions to medical informatics
has been described by Shortliffe [295], Glowniak [157], Hafner [166], and Shortliffe
[295, 296]. Shortliffe considered the ARPANET, which led to the Internet, to be one
of the most compelling examples of how government investments led to innovations
with broad economic and social effects.
Data security involves the protection of data against theft, unauthorized access, and
unintentional access. Data protection for any computer-based medical information
system (MIS) means protecting the privacy, confidentiality, security, and integrity of
each patient’s medical data against unauthorized access, intentional or not, for read-
ing, copying, altering, or destroying. In addition, data security requires that the
information system itself be protected from theft, vandalism, fire, flood and other
destructive forces. Blum [45, 47] defined data protection in a medical information
system as involving data safety and data security; where data safety includes protec-
tion against destruction, manipulation, or falsification of data, as well as theft of
recording media. Primarily concerned with physical media, data safety protects
against the loss of data, the introduction of invalid data, and the deliberate misuse of
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 231
data. Maintenance of data confidentiality has long been a tradition between patient
and physician; communications between them have been considered privileged.
Computer-based medical record systems have the same requirements for main-
taining the confidentiality of patient data as do paper-based medical record systems.
In comparison with paper records, computer-based systems provide advantages and
disadvantages. Simon [301] emphasized that computer databases have to be given
the highest protection from abuse, yet one needs to be careful that crude methods of
protection do not deprive society of needed information. In the 1980s precautions
were implemented for protecting the data of patients with a diagnosis of drug abuse,
or with positive tests for the acquired immunodeficiency syndrome (AIDS) [347].
These issues had to be re-addressed as technology moved the patient record from
pieces of paper collected in folders and stored in file cabinets at the doctor’s office
to electronic health records stored in a large, central facility.
Privacy is viewed as the individual patient’s right to control personal informa-
tion. Confidentiality is defined as the obligation of the health professional and the
hospital to safeguard the privacy of information in the medical record, whether
stored on paper or in a computer [168, 280]. Springer [306] in a review of state law
relating to computer-based medical records listed the following threats to informa-
tion privacy in a time-sharing medical information system: (1) accidental infiltration
by computer malfunction, user errors, or software errors; (2) deliberate infiltration
by wire-tapping or hacking, electromagnetic pickup, examination of carbon copy
papers, entrance of files by browsing, or legitimate access to a part of a system to
ask unauthorized questions; (3) masquerading as a legitimate user after having
obtained proper identification through wire-tapping or other means; (4) “between-
lines” entry, as when a legitimate user was inactive but still held an open communi-
cation channel; or (5) “piggyback” entry by selective interception of communication
between user and computer and the substitution of a modified message.
Springer also defined as distinct from security and confidentiality, data reliability
in that most state laws and the Joint Commission on Accreditation of Hospitals
(JCAH) required medical record data contributed by physicians, nurses, and other
health care professionals to be signed. This requirement was the basis for introduc-
ing acceptable electronic signatures for computer-stored transactions. In the 1980s,
rubber stamp signatures and computer printed signatures began to appear on print-
outs [276].
It was always the hospital’s responsibility for its inpatients and the physician’s
responsibility for office patients, to safeguard medical records against loss, tamper-
ing, or use by unauthorized persons. By the late 1960s a concern of many was how
to control access to computer files and how to safeguard the entry and retrieval of
data from public and private computer databases [104, 141, 179, 354]. McNamara
[242], in the law division of the American Medical Association, asked how, when a
patient consented to have data entered into an electronic record, could confidential-
ity be protected when the data were sent to a computer 1,000 miles away? Levinson
[207] pointed out that paper-based records provided incomplete protection in that
patients’ charts were often left unattended. Anyone wearing a white coat or carrying
a stethoscope could often obtain a patient’s chart without providing adequate iden-
232 M.F. Collen et al.
tification. Perhaps computer-based records, hidden behind user names and pass-
words, provided better protection. On the other hand, once breached, a computer
offered the temptation of data theft on a massive scale.
In 1970, IBM published a 36-page manual on data security in a computer envi-
ronment, and in that same year, the state of California passed a law stating that any
attempt to obtain by deceit personal data from computerized files is a misdemeanor.
The National Academy of Sciences initiated a study, led by Westin [355] at
Columbia University, which reviewed problems associated with the maintenance of
privacy of patients’ records kept in large, computer-stored databases. This study
reported on the status of the Kaiser Permanente system as an example of an early
advanced user of computers for clinical medicine. The study concluded that data
within the patients’ computer records were subject to the same regulations govern-
ing their privacy and confidentiality as data in the hospital record room; that unau-
thorized disclosures from medical records had not played a prominent role in
increasing the concern about privacy; and that the medical community had received
little criticism connected to unauthorized disclosure.
Ware [335] chaired an Advisory Committee on Automated Personal Data
Systems, appointed by Casper Weinberger, then the Secretary of the Department of
Health, Education, and Welfare, which recommended a Code of Fair Information
Practice. This code advocated safeguards for automated personal data systems,
namely: (1) the existence of a record-keeping system that contained personal data
must not be kept secret; (2) an individual must have access to personal information
and how it is used; (3) an individual’s information collected for one purpose must
not be used for any other without that individual’s prior consent; (4) an individual
must be able to correct or amend personal information that is incorrect; and (5) any
organization creating or using records of identifiable personal data must ensure the
reliability of the data for their intended use and must take precautions to prevent
misuse. This committee also advised against using the Social Security number as a
standard universal personal identifier, and recommended that its use be limited to
federal programs that had a specific federal legislative mandate to use it.
In 1977 a Privacy Protection Study Commission, created by the Privacy Act of
1974, submitted a report that also recommended that the use of the Social Security
number and other labels by private organizations be monitored. They advised that
the federal government should not consider taking any action that would foster the
development of a standard, universal label for individuals, or that would develop a
central population register, until such time as significant steps had been taken to
implement safeguards and policies regarding permissible uses and disclosures of
records [215]. Ware [334, 335] summarized the recommendations of this Privacy
Protection Study Commission’s report: (1) the patient’s right to see and copy his
medical record; (2) the patient’s right to have errors in his record corrected or
amended; (3) performance standards be kept for record-keeping systems in order to
protect and control access to records; (4) enforcement of an expected level of confi-
dentiality for medical records; (5) control of disclosures to third parties so that only
information necessary to the purpose of the request is disclosed and a requirement
that disclosures made without an individual’s authorization must be reported to the
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 233
authorized psychiatrists and psychologists [283]. Curran [105] described the protec-
tion measures established by a multistate psychiatric information system developed
by Laska: Each terminal had access only to its own files, a password was required
to identify the user, the computer recorded every transaction, and guards were
posted 24 h a day to prevent unauthorized persons from entering the computer room.
It was concluded that adequate legal and administrative protection could provide the
confidentiality and privacy required of an electronic medical record in the mental
health field [247]. A special problem of maintaining patient confidentiality arose
when researchers found large databases to be especially useful for collecting data on
large numbers of people. They soon recognized that it was necessary to place
restrictions on the research use of medical databases to protect the identity of the
patients and to preserve the confidentiality of the data without interfering unduly
with the enhancement of analytic power inherent in computer technology [247].
Lindberg [212] wrote that in the 1970s the increased number of collaborative stud-
ies using networked medical computer systems created a problem for protecting
patient confidentiality, and he cited Laska’s multistate psychiatric information sys-
tem as a model of good data protection. In the 1980s the increasing mobility of
patients across state lines and the emergence of multistate health care providers
resulted in a need for uniform regulations in all states governing the use and disclo-
sure of health care information. In recognition of this problem, the Uniform Health-
Care Information Act was drafted in 1985, and was recommended for enactment in
all states [62]. By the end of the 1980s the usual forms of data protection included
frequent changes of assigned passwords that authorized access to patient data from
certain terminals. It was thought that the highest risk to security at that time was
from unauthorized access via telephone lines that could connect into computer
networks.
The Standards for Privacy of Individually Identifiable Health Information
(Privacy Rule) for the first time established a set of national standards for the protec-
tion of certain health information. The U.S. Department of Health and Human
Services (HHS) issued the Privacy Rule to implement the requirement of the Health
Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA). Public Law 104–191,
enacted on August 21, 1996, required the Secretary of Health and Human Services
(HHS) to publicize standards for the electronic exchange, privacy, and security of
health information. HIPAA required the Secretary to issue privacy regulations gov-
erning individually identifiable health information if Congress did not enact privacy
legislation within 3 years of its passage. When Congress did not act, the Department
of Health and Human Services developed a proposed Privacy Rule that was released
for public comment on November 3, 1999. The Department received 52,000 com-
ments. The final regulation of the Privacy Rule was published December 28, 2000.
In March 2002, the Department proposed and released for public comment modifi-
cations to the Privacy Rule. This release generated 11,000 comments. The final
modifications were published on August 14, 2002. A text combining the final regu-
lation and the modifications can be found at 45 CFR Part 160 and Part 164, Subparts
A and E. The Privacy Rule standards address the use and disclosure of individuals’
health information called protected health information by organizations subject to
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 235
the Privacy Rule, called covered entities, as well as standards to help individuals
understand and control how their health information is used.
Within HHS, the Office for Civil Rights (OCR) is responsible for the implemen-
tation and enforcement of the Privacy Rule, voluntary compliance activities, and
civil monetary penalties. A major goal of the Privacy Rule is to assure that health
information is properly protected while allowing the flow of health information
needed to provide high quality health care. The Privacy Rule strikes a balance
between access to information needed to care for the patient and the protection of
the patient’s privacy. The healthcare marketplace is diverse, and the Privacy Rule is
designed to be flexible enough to cover the variety of uses and disclosures that need
to be addressed.
Data security involves the protection of data from unauthorized alteration and
from accidental or intentional disclosure to unauthorized persons. Data security is
dependent on adequate system security such as protection from illegal access to
computer rooms or to the databases, illicit use of data communications by hackers,
or illegal modification of programs. A serious threat to data security is tampering by
an authorized employee or by someone who illegally obtained a valid password
from an associate.
As shared files and remote access became more common, security became more
complex. In the 1980s, with the proliferation of personal computers, the security of
computer-stored medical data was threatened by access via telephone lines [58].
Access from personal computers in the home or office had to be controlled with a
level of security comparable to that which obtained within the medical center. Some
systems installed call-back procedures for remote users: (1) the user had to dial
from a predetermined authorized telephone number; (2) the computer answered the
call and queried the user for a password and telephone number; (3) the computer
then terminated the call; (4) if the user’s password and telephone number as typed
matched an entry in an authorization table the computer called back and requested
log in [367]. Determined outsiders could sometimes break in by patching into an
authorized telephone line and taking over the call after the authorized user hung up
and before the computer logged out [246].
Medical facilities that were a part of a communications network were especially
vulnerable to intentional or accidental altering or destroying of data. For example, a
group of teenagers who intended no harm used a home telephone and a computer
terminal to access a computer in the Department of Radiology at New York’s Sloan
Kettering Cancer Center [197].
Computer viruses are uninvited programs that can copy themselves into other
programs and destroy data or perform other activities. Some viruses are programmed
like a time bomb that can check the date, perform a task such as print a message, and
then execute destructive code. Worms are self-contained, independent, self-
propagating programs that enter operating systems and networks but do not destroy
data. Both viruses and worms were difficult to detect; once detected, they can
require a great deal of time for skilled programmers to eliminate. As an early exam-
ple, on November 2, 1988, the Internet, which on that date connected about 180,000
corporate, university, military, and medical research computers in the United States,
236 M.F. Collen et al.
needed. In addition, the record has to keep track of the identity of each person who
participated in the process, and of each medical problem that led to the test being
done.
In the case of treatment, the patient’s record has to document the status of each
continually changing medical problem, and it has to document each of the physi-
cian’s orders that pertained to that problem. The medical record has to permit recon-
struction of what happened in the past, and of exactly what information was available
at that time [89, 92, 329].
For professional audits and medico-legal problems, a patient’s computer-based
record often underwent many reviews over time. When a past treatment or patient’s
outcome was questioned, the medical record had to be reassembled, restored, and
re-constructed in the same format, in the same transaction-time sequence, and with
the same content as when it was used by the health care professionals at the time
when the patient’s care under question had been given. With the increasing com-
plexity of distributed databases, avoiding accidental alterations of data, and ensur-
ing absolute fidelity of the processing, merging, and transmitting of patient data
became increasingly difficult. In such a case, data integrity meant that the data in the
patient’s computer-stored record always had to be in total and absolute agreement
with the data entered by every user at every instant. This was an acutely sensitive
requirement for direct patient care because overlapping or simultaneous entry of
considerable amounts of data for one patient could occur within a few seconds, such
as from automated laboratory analyzers and from intensive care monitoring
systems.
The use of patients’ records for administrative reviews of utilization of resources
and of the quality of patient care could compromise the confidentiality of patients’
data, a problem that could be accentuated by the speed and power of the computer
[212]. Separate from the ability to monitor the quality of patient care, it is important
to monitor the quality of the data processing. In a study of a large database of vital
records, Schwartz and associates [289] found significant error rates in the spelling
of patients’ names. They also found the same patient identification (ID) number
assigned to more than one patient. If one patient is assigned two or more ID num-
bers, there is no problem provided that all numbers point to the same record.
Error detection and correction methods are advocated, including error checks
based on repeat entry (such as was routinely done to verify keypunched data).
Validity checks, such as rejection of entries that lie outside a predetermined range,
are also important, as are redundancy checks such as check digits – numbers com-
puted from the values of a numeric identifier and appended to it. If a patient’s iden-
tification number includes a check digit, the computer can compute a check sum; if
the check sum differs from the one included with the patient’s number, the computer
can signal an error.
Physical security of the computer and its databases against accidental destruction
of data was recognized from the beginning as being important. In addition, it was
evident to physicians that striving for 100 % reliability – a non-existent, non-
attainable goal – was important. Collen [89] pointed out that an information system
with a relatively high reliability of 98 % would still have an average downtime (that
238 M.F. Collen et al.
Physicians have followed the teachings of the famed clinician, Sir William Osler, to
study and learn from their patients and from their medical records, in order to
improve their knowledge of diseases. Physicians continue this learning process by
taking a history of the patient’s medical problems, performing a physical examina-
tion, and then recording the history and physical findings in the patient’s medical
record. To confirm a preliminary diagnosis and to rule-out other possible diagnoses,
physicians refer the patients for selected tests and procedures that usually involve
the clinical laboratory, radiology, and other clinical-support services. After review-
ing the information received from these services, physicians usually arrive at a more
certain diagnosis, and then prescribe appropriate treatment. For an unusual or a
complex medical problem, physicians can refer the patient to a specialist, and they
can review evidence-based reports of appropriate therapies by consulting relevant
medical literature and bibliographic databases.
It was always a problem for busy physicians to adequately document and main-
tain their patients’ records. In the 1950s before the advent of computers, the tradi-
tional hand-written, paper-based patient record was a collated series of documented
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 239
encounters between the patient and the health professional that had been collected
serially over time. The patients’ records in a solo practitioner’s office for a relatively
small number of patients could consist of paper cards with the identification and
business data handwritten or typed, and with handwritten notes about medical prob-
lems, diagnostic tests, and treatments to remind the practitioner at the time of sub-
sequent visits. In a small group practice, records were usually written on plain
sheets of paper, stored chronologically in a folder or envelope, and filed in cabinets
alphabetically by the patient’s last name.
In a large group practice, or in a hospital, each patient would be assigned a unique
medical record number, and all information for that patient would be stored in one
or more folders filed under that record number in a common medical record depart-
ment. If a patient was scheduled to see two or more physicians on the same day, one
physician often needed the chart beyond the time that a subsequent appointment
began. In contrast to data in a computer, the paper chart could not be in more than
one place at a time.
When the number of physicians in a group increased and the storage area out-
grew the space allocated for filing cabinets, the cabinets were replaced by a medical
records department with racks of shelves on which the patients’ records were
stacked in the alphabetical order of the patients’ last names, or in the numerical
order of their medical record numbers. In large medical centers some clinical spe-
cialties stored their specialty records separately. Psychiatrists and psychologists
almost always stored their records in separate, locked cabinets to provide an addi-
tional measure of privacy and security. Clinical laboratory test results were usually
kept in the laboratory for a limited time, and the final test reports were permanently
stored in the patients’ records. Original x-ray images were typically stored in the
radiology departments, and copies of the radiologist’s interpretations were filed in
the patients’ records. Electrocardiograms (ECGs) were usually stored in their origi-
nal graphic form in the electrocardiography department, with a copy and its inter-
pretation for the patient’s chart. Relevant postal mail correspondence, textual reports
from pathology, consultations, surgical notes, and other procedures were also filed
in patients’ medical records.
Patients’ records were also used to support claims for reimbursement for services
provided. Health care insurers usually required case summaries with standardized
codes to represent diagnoses and procedures.
If a patient was hospitalized, inpatient care was documented in the patient’s
chart. Upon discharge, a hospital discharge summary was prepared by the attending
physician. These paper documents were collated in a manually stored file that con-
stituted the outpatient record. When a patient returned for a clinic visit, the physi-
cian could retrieve the outpatient chart and review data from prior visits together
with any new reports received in the interim, such as laboratory test results, x-ray
reports, or hospital discharge summaries. After seeing the patient, the physician
could modify or add a diagnosis, change the treatment, and record the events of the
current visit. Thus the outpatient record was a physician’s primary means of docu-
menting the continuity of care. For patients with chronic problems and recurring
episodes of illness over many years, the record could become voluminous, which
could make retrieval of specific data from prior visits increasingly difficult.
240 M.F. Collen et al.
center where the coded data were punched into machine-readable cards. Periodically
the cards were batch processed to tabulate the data. The process was simple and
affordable even for small hospitals. By the mid-1960s reports appeared describing
the use of electronic digital computers in medical records departments. Ausman
[12] and associates at Roswell Park Memorial Institute in Buffalo, New York,
reported on their computer-based medical record system which had been under
development for several years. Hospital admission data, patient’s history informa-
tion, physical examination data, and nurses’ notes were manually recorded on forms
and then keypunched into cards that were read into an IBM 360 computer. The
system also used portable punch cards for many fixed-format data entry applica-
tions, including requisitions for procedures, laboratory test results, and vital signs
(temperature, pulse and respiration). A book of portable punch cards was contained
in a specially designed hand-held holder, and the user, guided by a plastic overlay,
entered data by punching holes with a stylus. A card reader then tabulated the data.
Ausman [12] was enthusiastic about this method of data entry, for it did away with
the need for keypunch operators. He suggested its use would be limited only by the
ingenuity of the user.
In 1969 the National Center for Health Servicers Research and Development
[262] reported that computer-based medical record projects were being conducted
by: Ausman at Health Research, Inc. in Buffalo, New York; Robinson at Bowman
Gray School of Medicine; Schenthal at Tulane University; and Weed at the Cleveland
Metropolitan General Hospital. In the 1970s some pathologists and medical record
transcriptionists were using word processing programs, either by magnetic tape
coupled to an IBM Selectric typewriter (MTST), or by a display terminal with key-
board data entry directly into a computer [290]. Some early examples of electronic
patient records in hospital information systems were those developed at the Texas
Institute of Research and Rehabilitation, University of Missouri-Columbia,
University of Vermont, and El Camino Hospital in Sunnyvale, California. Some
early electronic patient records for office and hospital practice were developed at
the Latter Day Saints Hospital, Massachusetts General Hospital, Kaiser Permanente,
and Johns Hopkins Hospital.
In the 1980s a hospital information system provided the medical records depart-
ment with record-tracking and location for paper-based medical charts. Computer-
based records did not need this application, but some hospitals had hybrid record
systems that retained some paper-based records. An automated record-tracking sys-
tem at the Lutheran Hospital of Southern California, with an annual experience of
23,000 hospitalized and 200,000 ambulatory patients, provided specific information
about the location, movement, and use of each patient’s record [297]. In 1980 at
Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas, Texas, with 40,000 admissions and 215,000
outpatient visits in 1980, an automated chart-location system to check charts in-and-
out improved the ability to manage a large volume of charts that had a high activity
rate [250]. Parkland Hospital’s system also tracked deficiencies in the completion of
paper-based charts by the medical staff, a common problem for medical librarians.
At the University of California in San Francisco (UCSF), Simborg and associates
[299] reported that their medical records department system became operational as
242 M.F. Collen et al.
an integrated module in their hospital information system, and that it provided med-
ical record location tracking, control of incomplete medical records, medical tran-
scription for discharge summaries, operative notes and correspondence, and
management statistics – all entered by typing with a word processing module. The
processing of narrative textual data contained in patients’ records was a major tech-
nical problem. For a patient who had a long stay in the hospital due to a serious
disease with complications, the amount of text in the patient’s record could be volu-
minous, and would include the admission history and physical examination, fol-
lowed by many progress notes, consultation and laboratory reports, and perhaps
surgery and other special procedure reports.
Functional requirements for patients’ hospital electronic records were generally
similar to those for patients’ records in a clinic, though many hospitals had special-
ized services that added to the complexity of their medical records. Clinicians
needed to review relevant data collected during the present and past hospitaliza-
tions, as well as data collected in prior clinic visits, in order to assess the current
status of the patient. Davis [107] proposed that as a minimum, the two major goals
of the electronic patient record should be to: (1) maintain and readily provide rele-
vant clinical and administrative data for each patient; and (2) provide a resource for
the systematic retrieval of medical data across large numbers of electronic patient
records for administrative and clinical studies. The electronic patient record had to
document each patient’s care by collecting and storing administrative and clinical
data. It had to contain all data collected: (1) from the patient (identifying data and
medical history); (2) from physicians’ examination findings, diagnoses, orders,
treatments, consultations, and progress reports); (3) from the nurses (nursing proce-
dures, medications administered, and nursing progress notes), from aides and
medical attendants (height, weight, temperature, and vital signs); and (4) from clini-
cal support services (laboratory, pharmacy, radiology, electrocardiography, pathol-
ogy), for every episode of illness during the periods for which the patient received
care [108, 111, 329]. Fries [145] considered the ideal patient’s record to have the
following characteristics: once data was recorded, a user should be able to readily
refer to it again; an authorized user should be able to find out why specific services
were provided; and data should be displayed such that each individual observation
was seen in the context of related observations.
In a large medical group practice or in an academic center, the electronic patient
record had to process, integrate, and communicate each patient’s data in a timely
way as needed by all authorized users. The number of medical consultants and tech-
nical specialists in a large medical center required the electronic patient record to
readily integrate, retrieve, and communicate patient care data wherever collected
and whenever requested. When several physicians were involved in the care of the
patient, the electronic patient record had to be accessible to every physician taking
care of the patient at any hour of the day or night. The capability for many physi-
cians to simultaneously query a patient’s electronic patient record at any time was a
benefit that had no counterpart in the paper-based patient record.
The electronic patient record had to have the flexibility to retrieve and arrange
the relevant patient data in a variety of readable and usable formats, such as by time,
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 243
sons, whose records could attract inappropriate attention. (7) The electronic record
had to accommodate continual addition as needed throughout the lifetime of the
patient. (8) And the electronic record had to accept new types of data resulting from
innovations in patient care. Gabrieli [146] extended this last requirement beyond the
individual patient to permit multi-generational record linkage, so that the clinical
records for a patient’s parents, children, and siblings could be linked.
Although patients’ records vary widely in size, format, and content, they have
been the primary means of recording health care processes and services that were
provided to the patient, and the data contained in a patient’s record have usually
provided the basic and legal representation of the care received. Therefore it is
essential that whether it is paper-based or electronic-based, the patient’s record is
able to collect, store, process, retrieve, transfer and communicate the needed data
accurately, reliably, and efficiently. The composite of all component records during
the life of a patient makes up the patient’s continuing, longitudinal, lifetime medical
record, and as advocated by Stead [307] it should be an accurate and complete
medical database built by collecting health and medical care information over the
patient’s lifetime.
Technical requirements and structural designs for an electronic patient record
need to satisfy the functional requirements specified by users. Gordon [159, 160]
proposed that a [111] standardized format should become an integral part of the
patient record, thus offering some ease in data entry and information retrieval. When
computer technical specialists first designed the structure of the earliest computer-
based patient records, they generally mechanized the approach of the medical record
librarian, who took a paper folder for each patient, placed into it a set of individual
pages and thereby established the patient’s file. These files were then stored in
cabinets or on racks in the medical records department. The file consisted of struc-
tured sheets beginning with the cover page, and followed by administrative data,
physicians’ notes, nurses’ notes, laboratory test results, pharmacy data, x-ray
reports, and other documents such as operative notes and hospital discharge sum-
maries. The paper-based patient’s file was readily increased in size by the addition
of more sheets. In the early computer-based systems, just as in a manual paper-
based record system, each patient’s record was treated as a separate file. The com-
puter-stored electronic patient record was the aggregate of an individual patient’s
data; it served in place of the patient’s chart.
Electronic patient records were initially stored as fixed-field, fixed-length com-
puter files as a carryover from business data processing. As in the manual paper-
based chart, each type of data was entered into a specifically defined field (location)
in the computer’s magnetic storage device, and each field of data (such as the
patient’s identification data) was programmed to store a predetermined amount of
data. To save storage space, data were coded, and they were entered from pre-coded
forms. Time elapsed between the initial recording of a patient’s data on a paper form
and its subsequent entry into a computer. Furthermore, when data for an outpatient
visit were collected on encounter forms, that is, when the physician did not interact
with the computer, there was no opportunity for clinical decision support or for the
receipt of clinical alerts or reminders.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 245
It was the responsibility of the medical records department to keep track of the
medical records; for paper-based medical records this task was sometimes difficult.
Prior to computer-based hospital information systems, medical record librarians
were responsible for the storage, integrity, and security of the paper-based medical
charts; for tracking records as they moved through the hospital; and for making the
records available to all authorized users in a timely way. They maintained a master
index of diagnoses and provided periodic statistical reports. The medical records
department often arranged for medical transcriptionists who transcribed physicians’
dictated narrative textual reports (such as for surgery, pathology, and radiology), that
were then filed in the patients’ records. In a hospital with paper-based records, all the
documents collected while a patient was in the hospital were almost always collated
in chronological order, on a clipboard or in a loose leaf notebook, and usually begin-
ning with the nurses’ graphical charts of the patient’s vital signs (temperature, pulse,
and respiratory rates). Most physicians manually wrote the patient’s medical history,
physical findings, diagnostic impressions, and progress notes on paper forms, which
were collated in chronological order in one section of the paper-based medical
record. Laboratory test results, x-ray reports, surgical operative reports, and nurses’
notes were also clipped in the chart. These charts were kept in racks at the nursing
stations near the patient’s bedside, so they would be readily available for physicians
and nurses when they visited their patients. Shortly after discharge, the documents
were bound together in a paper folder that was stored on shelves in the hospital’s
medical records department. Folders were filed sequentially, either alphabetically by
the patient’s last name, or numerically by the patients’ medical record number.
Most computer-based patient records were organized in a time-oriented sequence;
that is, the data were filed chronologically, and were presented in order of the date
and time of day the data were collected. A source-oriented record was one collated
by the department of origin; for example, surgical notes, ophthalmologic notes, and
clinical laboratory tests were each grouped by department. Source-oriented data
were usually filed in a time-oriented sequence within departmental records; for
example, all laboratory results were grouped together and then sequenced within the
laboratory file by date and time.
In the 1970s, with the advent of lower cost minicomputers, large medical groups
and clinics began to acquire dedicated minicomputers for their outpatient practices
[155]. In the 1970s and 1980s with the introduction of personal computers, outpa-
tient information systems became more affordable for the individual doctor’s office
and the implementation and diffusion of computers was facilitated by the publica-
tion of a number of books to guide physicians on how to select an electronic patient
record to meet the needs of their practices. Some early published books included:
Computers in Medicine: A Primer for the Practicing Physician, by Krasnoff
(Charles C. Thomas, 1967); Computers for the Physician’s Office, by Zimmerman
and Rector (Research Studies Press, 1978); Computers for Medical Office and
Patient Management, edited by Day and Brandejs (Van Nostrand Reinhold
Company, 1982); Computerizing Your Medical Office, by Sellars (Medical
Economics Books, 1983); Using Computers in the Practice of Medicine: Professional
and Clinical Guidelines for Managing Your Practice and Improving Patient Care,
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 247
general practice, a county health department, and a specialty group practice. Eleven
of the sites provided primary patient care. Eight of the 17 sites were sponsored by
local, state, or federal government; six were private, nonprofit corporations; three
were organized as private, for-profit corporations. The authors considered seven of
these sites to be academic institutions. Seven sites were supported largely by federal
grants, two by institutional funds, and the remainder by user charges.
Henley [176] further reported that all sites stored in their electronic records the
patients’ chief medical complaints or symptoms, and that more than half of them
coded the patients’ problems. Two sites – Yale and the Indian Health Service –
implemented a problem-oriented electronic medical record. The patient’s history of
present-illness was entered at 12 sites, and the past history, at least to some degree,
was entered at most sites. A limited amount of physical examination data were col-
lected and stored in coded form at 14 sites. Progress notes were stored primarily by
sites able to process free text. Current medications were stored at 14 sites, and past
medications were stored at 10. Psychiatric data were stored at ten sites. Follow-up
data were stored at the majority of sites, routine laboratory tests at eight sites, x-ray
studies at seven sites, electrocardiograms at six sites, and medications at five sites.
All the systems provided patient identification data and search capabilities.
Computer-generated encounter reports with progress notes and data from prior vis-
its were provided at 15 sites; 15 provided patient profiles summarizing the medical
status; 11 permitted online inquiries into the database; 11 included some type of
problem list; 8 provided computer-generated flow sheets with tabular presentation
of visit and laboratory data; and 2 sites used the computer to produce histograms.
Graphical data, x-ray images, electrocardiographic tracings, and referral letters
were excluded.
The Harvard Community Health Plan (HCHP) and the Brunswick Naval Air
Station dispensed with the traditional paper-based record completely at the patient-
physician encounter. The greatest reliance on computer availability of the record
existed at the Naval Air Station in Brunswick, where the medical record was kept
entirely on the computer and was not posted until the patient registered for an
appointment. Summaries were printed in preparation for appointments at Bellevue,
Indian Health Service, and at the Harvard Community Health Plan. According to
Henley [176], Harvard Community Health Plan’s COSTAR was a relatively com-
prehensive electronic record with much of the data in coded form; it was the first
civilian system to dispense with the traditional paper-based record.
Henley [176] also reported that for the 17 sites visited in 1974 and 1975, total
operating costs ranged widely from $1 to $50 per-patient year and from $0.50 to
$22 per-patient office visit. As examples, the operational cost of COSTAR at the
Harvard Community Health Plan was reported to be $15 per-patient per year and $3
per office visit. Duke University’s TMR system was reported to have a total opera-
tional cost of $22 per patient year and $10 per patient visit. Regenstrief’s RMR
system had a total operational cost of $101 per patient year and $22 per office visit
[176]. In 1977 McDonald et al. [233] estimated the cost of the RMR system of their
computer-based patient record at $2.02 per patient office visit. In 1979 an evaluation
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 249
of the Johns Hopkins outpatient Minirecord and appointment system estimated the
cost to be $0.63 per patient visit [202, 203].
Fourteen sites reported better patient care as manifested by earlier identification
of high-risk patients (for example, those with hypertension). In addition, sites
reported increased access to care because of fewer missed appointments, and
increased availability of paper records at the time of the patient’s visit. Reduction of
costs was claimed by 12 sites. All but one site agreed that the computer-based record
was more available, and most agreed that it provided more timely data for adminis-
trative decisions. Most agreed that one of the major contributions of the computer-
based medical record system was to provide for a more complete, up-to-date,
medical record, and that it facilitated peer review and was better at meeting require-
ments for quality review. Henley concluded that the successful implementation and
operation of an outpatient information system depended on health care providers, in
most cases physicians. Since the physician was usually the initial point of data cap-
ture, the physicians’ acceptance and cooperation was essential for success.
Henley [176] reported that eight sites used large, commercial, time-sharing com-
puters (six were manufactured by IBM); nine sites used minicomputers (seven were
manufactured by Digital Equipment Corporation); six used distributed shared sys-
tems; and three used small dedicated systems. All were aimed at medical support
functions. None of the minicomputer systems had been established before 1970. A
variety of programming languages was represented: four sites used MUMPS, three
used PL/1, three used assembly language, two used COBOL, two used FORTRAN,
and the remainder used other languages. Most of the sites provided online opera-
tions; only four were primarily dedicated to batch-processing. Three of the 17 sites
initially had some inpatient services; the others were developed specifically for out-
patient functions.
For data entry, none of the 17 sites used menu selection from a terminal display
as was then being used by some hospital information systems. Most sites used full-
page paper encounter forms, some of which were medical problem specific, with
pre-labeled check boxes. Codes that corresponded to the checked boxes were then
entered into the computer. At some sites the users wrote numerical values that could
be entered into the computer. Many sites used interactive display terminals. Five
used mark-sense forms and a mark-sense reader that automatically assigned codes
by reading the location of the mark on the form. Eleven sites allowed free text to be
written on the forms, and five permitted dictation that was then entered from inter-
active keyboard terminals. Some sites employed clerks to code diagnoses and to
abstract data from the encounter forms. Three of the 17 sites had the capacity for the
health care providers to enter data directly into the computer using the display
terminal.
Storage requirements for a single outpatient visit varied from 100 to 1,500 bytes
and for all visits for one patient requirements ranged from 500 to 100,000 bytes,
depending on the number of visits, complexity of care, redundancy of data, and
degree of data compression. The number of online terminals used varied from 1 to
6 Henley [176] also reported that the reliability of the computers was not a major
250 M.F. Collen et al.
systems. Still, most of the developers were involved in transferring parts or all of
their systems to new sites as the technical constraints on transfer diminished.
Distributed data processing began to appear in the early 1980s using minicom-
puters connected by local area networks (LANs). Microcomputers were also linked
with minicomputers, with all computers supported by a shared central database for
the computer-stored electronic patient records, and this advanced the diffusion of
outpatient information systems into larger medical group practices [349]. By the
mid-1980s reports claimed that an array of personal computers inter-connected by a
LAN could provide the basis for an efficient and cost-effective outpatient informa-
tion system [128], and that battery-powered personal computers could serve as por-
table data transfer devices to an office computer [11]. Personal computers began to
be used for communications between practitioners and patients. Also, a physician’s
office computer could dial a patient’s telephone and leave a reminder about an
upcoming appointment [113]. Microcomputer-based clinical workstations con-
nected to a central communications computer in a local area network began to be
used in larger clinics for clinical alerts and reminders [231].
By the mid-1980s commercial vendors were marketing the Massachusetts
General Hospital’s COmputer-STored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR), Regenstrief’s
Medical Record (RMR), and Duke University’s The Medical Record (TMR) sys-
tems. By the end of the 1980s, Tang [316] observed that the demands on the elec-
tronic patient record as a repository of patient information had increased dramatically
for several reasons: (1) the increased number of patients’ encounters since people
were living longer and received more care for both acute and chronic medical prob-
lems; (2) the dramatic increase in the number and use of diagnostic procedures, with
many procedure results being recorded on different media (such as film, video, digi-
tal images, graphs and charts); and (3) at many outpatient clinics, patients were
being seen by many different health care providers. Finally, some early adopters
needed to reduce the amount of space required to store medical records.
Initial adoption of an electronic patient record required the transfer of data resid-
ing in the paper-based record into the database of the computer. On the other hand,
the transfer of an entire old record was rarely necessary and could be costly, so
selective abstraction was usually employed. The line between over- and under-
extraction of data was ill defined [151]; judgment calls do not come cheap. When
considering the inclusion of all old data with the thought that some later retrospec-
tive search might require it, Spencer [305] advised against this approach. In con-
trast, Lindberg [213] discouraged attempts to abbreviate the electronic patient
record since different portions of the same record could be relevant for different
future purposes.
Stead [311] noted that in the 1980s Duke’s The Medical Record (TMR) was the
only record of physician-patient encounters in the outpatient information system for
the nephrology clinic of the Durham Veterans Administration Medical Center. Stead
referred to TMR as a chartless record rather than as a paperless record, and he noted
that after 15 years of false starts, computer-based patients’ records were becoming
a reality.
252 M.F. Collen et al.
and processing. These cards could store enough data for essential information from
a patient’s record [172]. But concerns about confidentiality of portable data, lack of
standards for data transfer from one care provider to another, and cost deterred use
[218]. By the mid-1980s lower-cost laser optical cards were being tried. The optical
card could store a lot of data. Both encoded and read with a laser, the data were then
manipulated with software as with any other computer storage device. In 1985 a
subsidiary of Blue Cross-Blue Shield in Maryland offered a laser optical card that
could be carried in a wallet. The card could hold up to 800 pages of medical infor-
mation. The portable card reader-writer was connected to an IBM personal com-
puter [230].
The optical write-once read-many (times) (WORM) card used by Vallbona and
his colleagues for a patient-carried medical record in a community clinic could store
1.76 megabytes of digitized information – about 700 pages of text. Their Health
Passport contained identification data, medical problems, medications, laboratory
and x-ray results, and some medical history items. They reported that patients car-
ried their cards when they visited the clinic, and that the optical card reader-writer
functioned well. Once written onto the card, information could not be removed;
Vallbona considered the card an ideal mechanism for recording clinical information
[327].
In the 2000s, the federal government’s financial support for the development, imple-
mentation, and diffusion of computer-based electronic patient records markedly
increased. The record of a healthcare provider’s services to a patient had been called
the paper-based patient record or patient’s chart, but now it began to be called the
computer-based electronic patient record (EPR), or the electronic medical record
(EMR), or the clinical electronic patient record (CEMR) when used primarily for
patient care. Garrett [152], in the Office of the National Coordinator for Health
Information Technology (ONC) recognized that the term electronic medical record
(EMR) was used mainly by physicians for the record of a patient’s sick care in a
hospital or clinic, so federal agencies began to use the term electronic health record
(EHR) to include both health care and sick care.
In April 2004, a presidential Executive Order created the position of National
Coordinator for Health Information Technology, organizationally located within the
Office of the Secretary for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services
(HHS) [201]. The mission of the Office of the National Coordinator for Information
Technology (ONC) was to promote development of a nationwide Health Information
Technology infrastructure that allowed for electronic use and exchange of informa-
tion, and to ensure secure and protected patient health information; to improve
health care quality and reduce health care costs; to improve coordination of care and
information among hospitals, laboratories, physicians and health care providers; to
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 255
improve public health care activities and facilitate health and clinical research; to
promote early detection, prevention and management of chronic diseases; to pro-
mote a more effective marketplace and reduce health disparities; to provide leader-
ship in the development, recognition, and implementation of standards and the
certification of health information technology products; to provide policy coordina-
tion and strategic planning for health information technology adoption and health
information exchange, and to establish governance for the Nationwide Health
Information Network. In 2009 Kolodner was appointed Chief of the Office of the
National Coordinator for Health Information Technology [96, 115, 133].
In 2009 the United States Congress passed the American Recovery and
Reinvestment Act (ARRA) that directed about $20 billion in new funds to the
healthcare industry, including about $2 billion for health information technology
[56]. In 2010 only 1 % of hospitals in the United States were reported to have an
operational medical information system (MIS) with patients’ electronic health
records (EHRs) [179]. The Federal government announced it would subsidize quali-
fying physicians who purchased an electronic health record (EHR) system that met
Federal certification requirements, and who demonstrated compliance with the
Federal definitions for “meaningful use” [167, 366].
In 2010 President Obama signed into law the Patient Protection and Affordable
Care Act (PPACA) to provide affordable health insurance to most Americans, to
improve access to primary care, and to lower its costs [120]. In addition, the presi-
dent signed the Healthcare Reconciliation Bill which introduced changes in the
PPACA to reflect agreements between the House and the Senate [142]. In 2010
Blumenthal, Chief of the Office of the National Coordinator for Health Information
Technology (ONC), established an Electronic Health Record Certification Program
to ensure that physicians adopted electronic health records that could satisfy the
specified requirements for meaningful use and thus entitle them to the federal
subsidy.
An electronic health record had to be able to store and retrieve an individual
patient’s information collected over time. The information had to include the
patient’s demographics, medical history, current medications, doctor’s notes, and
important administrative information. Issues concerning electronic health records
included data exchange, privacy, security, and patient’s consent. Meaningful use
was defined by increasingly complex stages comprising sets of requirements and
qualifications established in order for an institution to be eligible for Federal fund-
ing based on the adoption and use of an electronic health record in accordance with
the provisions established by the Healthcare Information Technology for Economic
and Clinical Health (HITECH) Act [174].
The HITECH Act established one set of awards that provided $386 million to 40
States and qualified State-Designated Entities to build the capacity for exchanging
health information across the health care system, both within and between states
through the State Health Information Exchange Cooperative Agreement Program;
and another set of awards that provided $375 million to create 32 Regional Extension
Centers (RECs) to support the efforts of health professionals, starting with primary
care providers, to become meaningful users of electronic health records. Together
256 M.F. Collen et al.
these programs were to help modernize the use of health information, and improve
the quality and efficiency of health care for all Americans [48].
The HITECH legislation provided direct financial subsidies to physicians for
adopting and demonstrating qualified meaningful use of certified information tech-
nology in amounts of up to $44,000 to physicians who were not hospital-based and
who participated in the Medicare electronic health record incentive program, or up
to $63,750 if they were participating in the Medicaid electronic health record incen-
tive program [294]. The final rules for meaningful use Stage 1 were released in July
2010. Participants in the program needed to satisfy the criteria by using certified
technology to improve the quality, safety, and efficiency of health care, and reduce
health disparities; engage patients and families; improve care coordination for pop-
ulation and public health; maintain privacy and security of patient health informa-
tion; and be able to capture and share patients’ electronic data, and use uniform
standards for clinical procedures and summary reports [48–50]. Advancing to Stage
2 in 2014 required further integration within increasingly complex subsystems that
required adequate database management systems, and that required vendors to have
better data standards to support interoperability for data exchange within and
between electronic health record systems. Further stages of requirements for mean-
ingful use were expected to be released later, including defined requirements for
recording patients’ outcomes.
In 2011, commercial vendors of electronic health records reported that
MEDITECH had 1,212 installations, Cerner 606; McKesson Provider Technologies
573, Epic Systems 413, and Siemens Healthcare 397. By the middle of 2011, the
Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) reported that 77,000 health
care providers were registered in the CMS program; and CMS had paid $400 mil-
lion in meaningful use incentives to physicians and hospitals [253]. By 2012 elec-
tronic health systems were in widespread use. CMS reported that more than 40 %
(132,000) of the primary health care providers, and more than 3,300 hospitals in the
United States had enrolled in the program, and that CMS had paid out more than $5
billion in meaningful use incentives to more than 93,000 physicians [221]. The
majority of physicians who responded to a survey reported satisfaction with their
electronic records. Vendors used by the largest percentage of respondents were Epic
with 22 %, Allscripts with 10 %, and Cerner with 9 % [97]. In 2012, the chief of the
Office of the National Coordinator for Health Information Technology, Mostaashari,
reported that the Certified Health IT Product List (CHPL) contained more than 500
certified products. The 2011 and 2014 lists are posted on the web [73].
tem evaluation include: (1) An experimental design that measured the effects of the
new system compared to a control environment in which the innovation had not
been implemented. (2) A data-collection and analysis plan for assessing the effects,
using statistical tests of significance made with a quantitative measure of confi-
dence, as well as judgmental assessments of importance that relied on human expe-
rience and that were made with a qualitative measure of confidence. Statistical
significance alone is insufficient; thoughtful judgment is still required. To rephrase,
as has been said, “To be a difference a difference has to make a difference.” (3)
Definition of the basic work units, such as the patient’s medical record in an infor-
mation system. (4) Definition of the system components, including not only func-
tional components, such as a nursing unit, but for each component there should be
assessed its costs for labor, material, equipment, and overhead. Goldman also advo-
cated that attention be focused on personnel performance and attitude, micro-costs,
information audit, and benefits. Few evaluations satisfied Goldman’s
recommendations.
Barnett [21, 22] offered a different approach by asking if management would pay
to support the computer system from non-government funds over a prolonged
period of time, and if other institutions successfully implemented a similar system.
Collen [81] proposed a matrix to serve as a guide for measuring the extent to
which an electronic patient record system achieved its specified requirements and
objectives. This required that consideration be given to the objectives of four groups
of stakeholders: (1) patients, which included measuring the system’s effects on
patients’ health outcomes, and the length and costs of the care process; (2) health
professionals, as to the ease of entering orders and receiving test results, and the
extent of the support for clinical decision-making; (3) administrators, as to the sys-
tem’s effects on operating costs, and its support of managerial decisions; and (4)
policy makers, as to the system’s effects on overall costs and outcomes of patient
care.
Weinstein [348] described the differences between cost-effectiveness and cost-
benefit analyses. The purpose of cost-effectiveness analysis is to assess the effi-
ciency with which resources were applied to achieve specified desired benefits; for
example, what was the cost of procedure “A” versus procedure “B” to make a par-
ticular diagnosis? In the health care context, cost-effectiveness analysis typically
assumes that the objective is to achieve a desired health benefit, given the level of
expenditure or the health care budget. In cost-benefit analysis the goal is to develop
a single measure of net value for each program or procedure being evaluated, and
this requires that health benefits be assigned monetary values so they can be com-
pared with the cost of resources expended. King [198] noted that system benefits
took the forms of: (1) cost savings, cost reductions, or cost avoidance; (2) improved
operational performance, lower error rates, increased speed for performing certain
tasks, increased capacity and volume of information processing and storage; and (3)
such intangibles as improved quality of information, improved decision making,
and enhanced morale.
Lindberg [210, 211, 214] proposed five approaches to evaluating the worth of an
electronic patient record: (1) The marketplace outcome, as to what was preferred
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 259
and would prevail in the marketplace, since more valuable systems would compete
successfully against less valuable offerings. Lindberg observed that in the 1970s,
the marketplace had selected predominantly business office applications; for
clinically-oriented applications the market place had concluded that their worth was
slim or as yet undiscovered. (2) He described as an operations research approach the
development of a study design with an explicit set of variables to be examined, and
with an analytic methodology based on statistically valid procedures. (3) He advo-
cated cost and economic analyses such as were described above. (4) He advocated
a technology assessment approach which included studies of the social, ethical, and
legal effects of the information system, such as its effects on data privacy. (5)
Lindberg wanted to evaluate the scientific impact, or the extent to which an informa-
tion system could influence or advance other fields of medicine, and serve as the
technical infrastructure for scientifically advanced concepts in medicine. He cited,
as an example, the effect of expert systems in clinical decision making, which he
pointed out could not emerge from evaluations such as a cost-benefit analysis. He
emphasized the difficulty in quantifying this type of benefit when he stated that
there was reason to expect the benefit from an electronic patient records would be a
summation of small gains, plus the very large potential gain in the additional desir-
able activities that such a system would permit, such as in the support of clinical
decision making. Lindberg advised that a meaningful cost-benefit evaluation for a
major electronic health record system would take a minimum of 5 years, and might
well require 10 years.
Prior to the advent of electronic patient record systems, virtually no studies were
done to evaluate paper-based patients’ records. The traditional paper-based patient
records contained a collated series of documents that described encounters between
the patients and their health professionals over a period of time. Prior to the advent
of computers, when solo practitioners saw patients in their offices, the case records
were usually hand written or transcribed on sheets of paper that were stored
chronologically in paper folders or envelopes. For physicians in a group practice,
where one patient might see several specialists, all patient care information was
generally collated in an integrated paper-based medical record. Each patient would
be assigned a unique medical record number; and all charts would be collected and
filed in the sequential order of their medical record numbers in a common medical
record room. A common problem in a group practice occurred when a patient
needed to see more than one physician on the same day. The patient’s paper-based
chart was often still needed in the first doctor’s office and therefore unavailable to
the physicians being seen subsequently.
An early evaluation of a comprehensive electronic patient record system was
reported in 1962 by Roach [275] at Systems Development Corporation in Santa
Monica, California. The system was deployed in a 400-bed hospital using 40 com-
puter terminals at an estimated cost of $500,000–1,000,000 to buy, plus $125,000–
250,000 per year to operate, with anticipated savings of $240,000 per year from a
23 % reduction in nursing staff.
In 1964 the total cost for the electronic patient record system developed for the
diabetes clinic of the University Hospitals of Cleveland, Ohio, was reported to be
260 M.F. Collen et al.
approximately $2 per patient visit [208]. According to Barnett, the cost in 1965 for
the Computer-Stored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) system at the Harvard
Community Health Plan (HCHP), including its hardware and its support personnel,
was approximately $1.50 per patient visit, and the cost for the computer to process
the medical data, including the input of data and computer generation of reports and
medical statistics, was reported to be 60 cents per patient visit [165].
On the other hand, few evaluations of electronic patient record systems provided
data on the costs and effectiveness of patient care or on clinical functions. Most
reports that appeared in the first few decades analyzed the effectiveness and costs
for implementing the business and administrative functions [16]. By the end of the
1960s there had occurred sufficient development of electronic patient information
systems in medical facilities that questions arose as to how to accurately evaluate
their costs and effectiveness. Interest in this evaluation process was spurred by the
report of Jydstrup [193] that the average cost in hospitals for information handling
was 22–25 % of a hospital’s total operating cost.
In a 1974 survey of 17 ambulatory care centers, Rogers [279] found that physi-
cians in outpatient clinics who were randomly assigned to see patients while they
used an electronic patient record ordered significantly more clinical laboratory tests
than they did when they saw patients without the system (12.2 tests ordered per
patient with the electronic record, compared to 8.1 without it). Nevertheless, the
physicians thought the additional tests appropriate, given the chronicity and severity
of illness in the patient population studied. When office-visit scheduling conflicts
occurred, and physicians assigned to see patients with the electronic record system
actually saw control patients and vice versa, the investigators found no carry-over,
that is, no system effect on control patients.
Vickery [331] reported the use of an electronic patient record system by physi-
cian assistants who treated ambulatory patients using specified algorithms or proto-
cols. Some used computer-generated encounter forms interactively with visual
display terminals for the input of data, whereas others used computer-generated
paper encounter forms with data recorded on the forms as in the manual system. A
total of 609 patients’ records were audited for errors of omission or commission of
data items. The researchers estimated the skill of the physician assistants by com-
paring the encounter forms produced by them with those produced by their super-
vising physicians. Whether physician assistants used the manual system or the
computer-supported system, the frequency of their errors and their estimated skill
was not significantly different. An audit that compared data recorded in the manual
charts with those prescribed by the clinical algorithms found a mean of one error of
data omission per chart, whereas no errors occurred when computer-generated
forms programmed to follow the specified algorithm were used. It was concluded
that a significant portion of the omissions represented failure to record data that had
in fact been collected.
In a later study Kuhn [203, 204] noted that the analysis of a specific site had to
consider all resources required, including the costs of installation, transition, techni-
cal support, and training of personnel. The acceptance of the patient care providers
(doctors, nurses, technologists, and administrators) appeared to be best when they
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 261
were involved in the system design, when they participated in the decision to install
the system, and when they received adequate training in its use. From an analysis of
58 responses to a questionnaire, it was concluded that a computer-based patient
record system was viewed as affording distinct benefits to its users, and that it was
preferred to the prior paper-based record system.
Kuhn [203] revisited Duke’s TMR, Regenstrief ’s RMR, Harvard Community
Health Plan’s COSTAR, as well as the Arthritis Research Information Office
Network (ARION) in Wichita, Kansas, an administrative and clinical outpatient
information system developed by a private-practice physician to collect data for the
Arthritis, Rheumatism, and Aging Medical Information System (ARAMIS) project
at Stanford University, and for the Family Practice medical information system in
Bailey, Colorado, which provided administrative services to a family practice clinic.
They reported that only one-third of all systems they had identified had achieved
full operational status. In most cases, the systems were limited in medical scope or
were providing primarily administrative services, such as patient registration, bill-
ing, and appointment scheduling. Several of the promising systems visited in 1975,
particularly COSTAR, were undergoing transfer from a prototype demonstration in
the research setting to the commercial market.
The Office of Technology Assessment [266] cited a study done by Bolt, Beranek,
and Newman for the National Center for Health Services Research (NCHSR) that
analyzed a clinic operated by 11 physicians in Nashua, New Hampshire. That study
concluded that between $87,000 and $142,000 in data processing and personnel
salaries could be offset by a computer-based outpatient information system, and that
such a group practice could benefit from a capital investment for electronic health
records of between $275,000 and $460,000.
Some evaluations of the problem-oriented medical record soon followed Weed’s
publications. Tufo [325] and associates at the Given Health Care Center of the
University of Vermont College of Medicine reported that the problem-oriented
medical record permitted their practitioners to double the ratio of patients to physi-
cians, to decrease the rate of hospitalizations, and to decrease the use of ambulatory
medical care. In an evaluation of the problem-oriented medical record in the medi-
cal services of Fort Sam Houston in Texas, Stuart [314] and associates reported that
the great majority of physicians thought the problem-oriented medical record was
an improvement over the traditional record for both clinic and hospital patients, and
that it provided a clearer picture of a patient’s health problems. They also felt that it
made the record more understandable; that it helped the physicians to provide better
care and to manage patients’ care more efficiently; and that it improved physicians’
teaching rounds.
On the other hand, after 5 months of use, Stuart [313] reported that there had not
yet been enough time for physicians to learn to use the problem-oriented medical
record with high consistency and proper attention to all its elements. A comparison
of a paper-based problem-oriented medical record to a paper-based traditional
source and time-oriented record in the clinics of the medical department of the
Beach Army Hospital at Fort Worth, Texas, found no significant difference between
the two groups in the number of problems identified, objective data documented, or
262 M.F. Collen et al.
were about $2.50 per patient for each of 50,000 multiphasic screening examina-
tions; $0.06 per test for 50,000 clinical laboratory tests; $0.05 per prescription for
15,000 pharmacy prescriptions; $1.00 per admission for 10,000 hospital admis-
sions; $0.17 per-visit for 90,000 doctor’s office visits; $1.35 per electrocardiogram
for 40,000 procedures; and $0.03 per retrieval for each of 5,000 requests per termi-
nal for information from a patient record.
Bond [52] provided an early cost evaluation of an electronic patient record sys-
tem by analyzing the costs in three hospitals operated by the Third Order of St.
Francis in Peoria, Illinois, that shared an online system. Bond reported improve-
ments in admissions procedures – significantly less time to admit patients, and sig-
nificantly improved staff utilization. The probability of erroneous information being
introduced into the care process was reduced by more than 20 % in those areas
served by the electronic patient record. On nursing stations the flow of orders
improved by 36–44 %; in the clinical laboratories order flow improved by 21–34 %;
and in the radiology department patient processing time was reduced by 25–27 %.
Simborg [300] and associates at Johns Hopkins Hospital reported on the early
effects of their electronic patient record on patient care in one acute medical unit
consisting of 31 beds, as compared to a similar, manual, paper-based patient record
in a unit that served as the control. They found a significant reduction in error rates
in carrying out physician orders in the experimental unit that used the electronic
patient record as compared to the manual, paper-based, control unit. With the new
system, they reported a transcription error rate of 1.7 % for the 856 orders exam-
ined, and six communication errors caused orders to be carried out incorrectly. In
contrast, with the manual record the transcription error rate was 7.3 % for the 857
orders examined, and 38 communication errors caused orders to be carried out
incorrectly. They also found that nurses spent 40 % of their time in direct patient
contact after implementation of the electronic patient record compared to 23 % with
the paper-based record. With respect to indirect care (administrative time) nurses
spent 32 % of their time in this way after implementation of the electronic patient
record compared to 45 % before. In the control unit, nurses spent 38–41 % of their
time on indirect care. The authors concluded that the costs of the electronic patient
record system were effectively offset by improved effectiveness of the staff.
Schmitz [288] reported a cost analysis of the Medelco electronic patient record
system installed at the Deaconess Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri. The direct expense
attributed to the system for 1970 and 1971 was $223,021, or $1.37 per patient day
during the first complete fiscal year of operation. Offsetting this expense was an
increase in revenue from recovery of previously lost charges of about $2.18 per
patient day. It was concluded that the system had been economically beneficial to
the hospital.
Vallbona [326] reported that when research and development costs were
excluded, the electronic patient record at the 81-bed Texas Institute for Research
and Rehabilitation cost $14.47 per patient day. He estimated that if the electronic
patient record system were to operate at its capacity of 200 hospital beds, cost per
patient day would decline to $4.20.
264 M.F. Collen et al.
that the total cost savings that could be attributed to the Technicon system at the El
Camino Hospital by the end of 1973 averaged $86,600 per month.
Anderson [8] reported that the use of personal order sets by physicians at the
Methodist Hospital of Indiana, which had installed the Technicon Hospital
Information System in 1987, resulted in faster order entry and results reporting, a
significant decrease in error rate for entering orders, decreased nursing paperwork,
and greater use of the direct order entry mode by physicians.
A study by the Office of Technology Assessment (OTA) of the United States
Congress also concluded that the El Camino Hospital realized substantial cost sav-
ings in labor from its installation of the Technicon system. OTA reported estimated
savings attributed to the computer system ranged from $72,000 to $189,000 per
month, whereas the fixed operational cost of the system was $89,800 per month. Net
benefits, after payment for the costs of the system, were estimated to range between
$30,000 and $50,000 per month or $3–5 per patient day. Labor savings, particularly
in nursing, accounted for about 95 % of the Technicon system’s total cost savings.
Savings in materials made up much of the other 5 %. As a comparison, the OTA
reported that the operating costs for an electronic patient information system for a
hospital ranged from $4 to $9 a day, and represented from 4 % to 7 % of the total
hospital operating budget [266].
In 1979 the Battelle Columbus Laboratories, under a contract from the National
Center for Health Services Research and Development, completed a 7-year evalua-
tion of the El Camino Hospital’s Technicon system [25], which generally affirmed
the reported findings by Gall [147]. The Battelle group first reported on some non-
economic benefits, such as a significant reduction in pharmacy errors, improvement
in the accuracy and completeness of the paper medical records, an overall decrease
in variance in medical orders and reporting results, and improved communications
at all levels of the hospital. There was a decrease in turnaround time for tests and
procedures in the clinical laboratory, radiology, and electrocardiography; patients
were admitted faster because physicians’ orders were entered sooner; laboratory
test results were more available to physicians during evening rounds; treatments and
medications were begun earlier and modifications to treatment plans initiated
sooner; elective surgery admissions were processed faster and patient satisfaction
was increased by the reduction in the time consumed in being admitted to the hos-
pital. The cumulative effects of these benefits contributed to shorter hospital stays.
Coffey [80] summarized for the National Center for Health Servicers Research
and Development the results and findings of the Battelle evaluation as follows: (1)
the Technicon Hospital Information System improved the efficiency of nursing
care, and through staff attrition and care for a greater number of patients, reduced
nursing costs per patient by 5 %. (2) The average length of stay at El Camino was
shortened by 4.7 %. (3) The overall effect of the system on total hospital expenses
could not be estimated conclusively; however, (4) the total hospital cost per patient
day, including the cost of the Technicon system, rose 3.2 % during the operation of
the system, a statistically significant increase. This increase was explained in part by
the reduction in average length of stay. Monthly overall expenses rose 7.8 % from
the pre-system period, a change largely explained by the greater flow of patients
266 M.F. Collen et al.
through the El Camino Hospital. Although nurses strongly favored the Technicon
system, the community physicians who admitted their patients to the El Camino
Hospital required several years to accept the system and use the light-pen terminals
to enter their orders directly. At the end of the initial 4-year study, 61 % of physician
users voted to retain and extend the system, a number that increased to 80 % several
years later [211]. Despite all the favorable results reported from the several indepen-
dent evaluations of the Lockheed-Technicon system at the El Camino Hospital,
some still considered the economic models used to be controversial.
Emlet [127] and associates at Analytic Services in Falls Church, Virginia, devel-
oped a detailed cost-benefit method for the evaluation of the Department of Defense
Tri-Service Medical Information System (TRIMIS). In addition to an assessment of
the economics, they defined 11 areas of effectiveness to consider in measuring to
what extent TRIMIS achieved the defined objectives of the Department of Defense.
These areas included quality, availability, accessibility, and acceptability of health
care; appropriateness of utilization; recruitment, retention, and training of person-
nel; absenteeism of personnel; performance of personnel; response to changing
needs; organizational image; and contributions to society. For each of these areas,
they identified specific measures and indicators for the evaluations to be performed,
pre-and post-implementation, and to be collected on site at the various installations
in army, navy, and air force hospitals [126]. For example, indicators of accessibility
of care included barriers to access and attitudes of patients as well as measures of
access that could be influenced by TRIMIS, including waiting times for appoint-
ments and for admissions [69]. The evaluation of a multihospital system such as
TRIMIS encompassed not only how well the system met the objectives of the indi-
vidual hospitals, but also how well TRIMIS met the overall objectives of the
Department of Defense for all facilities that used it [68]. In the end, however,
Analytic Services completed no evaluations; they lost the evaluation contract to
Arthur D. Little, Inc.
Grann [162] evaluated the attitudes of clinic personnel before and after the
implementation of TRIMIS for outpatient appointments in 12 clinics at the Walter
Reed Army Medical Center. At first, physician users of the computer-based appoint-
ment system viewed it with disfavor, but attitudes became more favorable after they
had used it for several months. Grann suggested that new-user training of computer
systems would be more effective if it attempted to inculcate realistic perceptions of,
and positive attitudes toward the system. Mishelevich [248, 249] analyzed the
costs of the Parkland Online Information System at the Parkland Memorial Hospital
in Dallas, and reported that in 1979 costs were $5.81 per inpatient day, $3.64 per
emergency room visit, and $3.05 per outpatient visit. Mischelevich also analyzed
radiology procedures and reported a savings in time for processing requisitions and
reports and a decrease in volume due to the elimination of duplicate procedures.
Kennedy [196] and associates summarized some of the findings of the prior
decade. They reported that among specialty groups, obstetricians, gynecologists,
urologists, surgeons, and radiologists were most favorably disposed to an electronic
patient record, whereas internists and general practitioners were the least receptive.
As a whole, physicians were less favorable than nurses to electronic patient records.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 267
Kennedy concluded that the use of electronic patient records could enable hospitals:
(1) to reduce errors in the administration of medications and the performance of
laboratory tests; (2) to decrease the time and costs of transmitting medical orders.
(3) To reduce duplicative and unnecessary procedures; (4) to reduce clerical activi-
ties; (5) to eliminate misplaced reports; (6) to decrease time and costs of reporting
test results; and (7) to expedite the completion of the patient’s medical record.
Kennedy [196] added that in addition to its other uses, the electronic patient
record was being used increasingly for clinical decision-making. Kennedy also con-
firmed that the overall effect of an electronic patient record on a hospital’s expenses
was not to increase per-patient costs significantly, even though a decreased length of
stay would cause the cost-per-patient day to go up.
Schlager [287] provided comparative costs for an outpatient information system
in a two-office, three-physician family practice, with an average workload of 30
patients per day. The reported costs to update and maintain a patient’s record was
$1.32 for the computer-based system, compared to $2.56 for similar activities with
a manual, paper-based system.
Drazen [122] at Arthur D. Little concluded from a study of methodologies used
in the 1970s to measure the cost effectiveness of electronic patient records, that one
of the most common reasons for implementing an electronic patient record was to
increase staff productivity by reducing paper work. Drazen [123] found that labor
savings (notably in nursing time) in a hospital was the largest cost reduction identi-
fied or predicted, and she described techniques used to estimate the amount of these
savings: (1) Task analysis, which identified individual activities affected by the elec-
tronic patient record. (2) Job-content analysis, which focused on differences in time
spent when the same job was performed in different ways. (3) Work sampling which
documented staff time allocated to information handling in different service units.
(4) Trend analysis, which monitored changes in productivity of personnel after
implementing an electronic patient record.
Drazen emphasized that turning time savings into labor-force reductions required
a deliberate effort to reorganize services and thereby to improve work-methods,
redistribute job titles, and redefine job roles among various labor categories. Without
active benefits realization, activity displacement might result in increased idle time
rather than payroll savings. Drazen also observed that a hospital typically incurred
a large initial capital cost and then realized economic benefits only incrementally
and in later years. She defined the cost effects of an electronic patient record as
changes that could be expressed in dollars. From a review of published evaluations
in the 1970s, she reported that two basic techniques had been used to analyze the
cost effects of an electronic patient record. In one method, before and after costs
were compared. In the other method, cost effects were predicted before the system
was implemented based on baseline data concerning hospital operations, knowl-
edge of potential system effects, and the experience of other users. Drazen observed
that predictive methods were useful for decision makers who were considering
installation of an electronic patient record, but only the retrospective study of actual
experience could provide data that could be used to develop or validate predictive
models.
268 M.F. Collen et al.
In her work for Arthur D. Little with the Department of Defense’s TRIMIS pro-
gram, Drazen [121] employed a formative type of evaluation, which she called
implementation monitoring; that was designed to track information about the sys-
tem’s operation, use, and benefits from the time the site was being prepared for
system installation through the time that a stable operation was achieved. This pro-
vided an early warning of where hospital operations and computer systems would
have to be changed if the expected benefits were to be gained. This process involved
four steps: (1) selecting aspects of performance and benefits to be monitored, which
included identifying items critical to the system’s success; (2) specifying how to
measure each aspect in discrete, unambiguous units; (3) specifying a schedule for
the monitoring process; and (4) specifying performance criteria and determining the
kind of performance expected at specified times in the implementation schedule.
Through the second half of the 1980s, Arthur D. Little, Inc. conducted for the
Department of Defense a comprehensive evaluation of TRIMIS. The approach they
took in performing the economic analysis of TRIMIS involved comparing its incre-
mental lifecycle costs and benefits with the costs and benefits of manual systems
operations, while considering only the costs and benefits attributed to the computer
system. The cost-benefit analysis encompassed the expected lifetime of the infor-
mation system, and examined the associated costs and benefits from the date of
installation to the end of the system’s life expectancy of 8 years. They grouped the
identified benefits from TRIMIS into six major categories: increased availability of
health professionals, increased availability of other hospital staff members, increased
service capacity, savings of materials, improved health status of patients, and
increased effective time of active duty military personnel. The methodology was
focused on those benefits expected to contribute substantial, measurable, dollar-
valued benefits. The costs associated with the purchase, installation, operation, and
maintenance of TRIMIS were organized into costs for hardware, software, com-
munications, and other expenses, including those for site preparation, training,
personnel, supplies, and overhead. A computer-based cost-benefit analysis model
was developed in which all cost items were inflated for future years using a
Department of Defense inflation index; and benefits and costs in future years were
discounted to present value using a 10 % discounted rate as mandated by Department
of Defense regulations [286].
From a 1980 survey Ball [19, 20] reported that six vendors who sold Level II
hospital information systems had a cost range for hardware and software of $4.00–
7.50 per patient day. A Level II system was defined by Ball as a large, comprehen-
sive hospital information system with an electronic patient record system to capture
and maintain the entire patient record. In addition, it had a database that could be
queried for patient medications and other data. Ball found that for simpler Level I
systems, of which 18 vendors had sold more than 500 as of the spring of 1980, their
cost range was $1.50–2.75 per patient day.
The Office of Technology Assessment [267] of the United States Congress
expanded the evaluation of technology to measure not only intended and expected
effects, but also to assess effects and costs of intangible and unintended conse-
quences. Assessing the positive and negative effects of unintended consequences
270 M.F. Collen et al.
that result from implementation of an electronic patient record system required the
collection of post-implementation data to measure unanticipated events. The collec-
tion of such data added complexity and expense, since data about unplanned effects
were usually unavailable. This would require sensitivity analysis with varying esti-
mates and assumptions to substitute for missing data to estimate the potential range
of costs of the unintended effects [87].
Blum [46] proposed that an electronic patient record could also produce such
measurable benefits as surveillance of diagnosis, therapy, and laboratory results to
identify potential incompatibilities; management of information overload by pro-
ducing reminders when tests were overdue or changes in therapy were suggested;
and decision-making support and protocol-directed management by using patient
care plans.
Wilson [365] and McDonald at the Wishard Memorial Hospital in Indianapolis
reported their experience with almost 2,000 adult patients seen in their emergency
room. Twenty-five percent of the patients also had been seen in their medical clinics
and had prior computer-stored records of their medical problems. Internists who
had received a printed summary of the patients’ computer-stored records in addition
to other information, ordered an average of 2.7 tests compared to 3.2 tests ordered
by physicians who did not receive the computer-stored summary. No difference was
found in the rate of ordering tests by emergency-room surgeons who received the
computer-record summaries.
Jacobs [184] analyzed the costs of training personnel to use an electronic medi-
cal record at the 450-bed St. Vincent Hospital in Portland, Oregon. All new users
were required to take a 3-h class, whereas experienced users took a 1- or 2-h class.
Although the hospital had planned for a 1-year training program, implementation
took 5-years in which 4,356 individuals were instructed in the use of the system,
generating 8,670 h of training and resulting in $106,500 in direct training costs.
Jacobs concluded that this represented a 500 % increase over the original statement
by the vendor for implementation, and an excess of 100 % over the original hospital
estimate for training costs.
To evaluate users’ satisfaction with an electronic medical record generally
involved surveys. Counte [103] and associates at Rush-Presbyterian-St. Lukes
Medical Center in Chicago conducted a survey of employees in clerical positions
using the admission, discharge, and transfer (ADT) system in the hospital. The
admission, discharge, and transfer system linked 13 hospital departments and 40
hospital wards. From a total of 305 employees trained to use the hospital informa-
tion system, 68 were randomly selected to participate in the study. Surveys were
taken 1 month prior to implementation, 6 months after implementation, and again
1 year after implementation. Counte reported that results of the analyses suggested
that, over the 1-year period, employee attitudes toward the system became less
favorable, although levels of job satisfaction increased. They also found that
employees’ attitudes toward computers in general were predictive as a measure of
adaptation to the computer system [199].
Zoltan-Ford [372] surveyed several professional groups and found that pharma-
cists had the best attitudes toward and experiences with computers, as also did certi-
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 271
Anderson [4] and associates at the Methodist Hospital of Indiana surveyed phy-
sicians about their use of electronic medical records. Physicians who joined the
medical staff took 5 h of training in use of the electronic medical record in their
clinical practice. Physicians with prior education in computing entered and retrieved
orders more frequently than did those without such experience, but prior computer
education had little effect on rates of retrieval of patient lists and laboratory results.
Anderson et al. [5] further found that physicians’ perceptions of the potential effects
of computer-based systems on medical practice significantly affected the frequency
with which they used these systems in practice, and this effect was similar for both
attending and resident physicians.
In 1987 a survey of 3,000 health care executives was conducted by Zinn and
DiGiulo. The authors categorized benefits of electronic medical records as quantita-
tive, with tangible results, measurable in dollars; and as qualitative, which, while
important, were intangible, and more difficult to measure. Zinn [371] found that
responses to the survey indicated that 43 % of the benefits achieved in their institu-
tion were quantitative, whereas 57 % were qualitative. Zinn [371] also reported that
benefits actually achieved were timely capture of information (84 %), decreased lost
charges (81 %), improved access to information (79 %), standardization of proce-
dures (70 %), improved cash flow (69 %), improved staff productivity (63 %), better
staff-patient relations (61 %), increased revenue (60 %), reduced length of stay
(58 %), improved organizational communications (56 %), reduced labor and mate-
rial costs (50 %), and improved quality of care (46 %). Some subsystems that were
reported as not being implemented at that time because of lack of expected quantita-
tive benefits were bedside computer terminals (75 %), nursing management (38 %),
radiology (36 %), laboratory (30 %), order entry (23 %), pharmacy (20 %), compre-
hensive electronic medical records (19 %), and medical records (10 %). The reasons
given for not achieving desired benefits were: lack of system functionality which
implied that the system did not do what was wanted (28 %); lack of effective
methods to achieve benefits (26 %); lack of administrative commitment (20 %); and
institutional unwillingness to change (19 %).
By 1989 significant cost benefits were being realized by a variety of commer-
cially installed electronic patient information systems. As reported by Johnson
[188] who cited the resultant savings at: El Camino Hospital to be $2 million per
year, Sacred Heart Hospital to be $1,021 million per year, Waukesha to be $3.8 mil-
lion in 3 years, Medical Center of Central Georgia projected to be $13 million in
7 years, Presbyterian Albuquerque to be $336,000 per year, University of Missouri –
pay-back in 2 years, and Ochsner Clinic – pay-back in 2 years. The assessment of
an electronic patient information system was found to be difficult and complex due
to its many tangible and intangible costs and benefits. From the 1960s to the 1980s,
methods evolved from early tabulations of direct costs to later attempts to assess, in
addition, intangible benefits. Gradually, through the years, evaluations were increas-
ingly reported as positive; computer systems became more comprehensive, and
users became more experienced.
In the early 1980s it was evident that microprocessors would have a major influ-
ence on the office practice of medicine. Eden [125] predicted that microcomputers
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 273
would have a decentralizing effect on medical practice since primary care physi-
cians might be more willing to work in isolated areas if they had computer-based
access to consultative and bibliographic services. In 1982 as a follow-up report that
had been reviewed by Henley’s group in 1974, Kuhn [203] concluded that, in a
general assessment of an automated, ambulatory medical record system, flexibility,
modularity, programming language, computer and software support, and ease of
modification were all important. The analysis of a specific site needed to consider
the resources required, installation time and costs, technical support, training of
personnel, and costs for startup, transition, and routine operation. Schlager [287]
provided comparative costs for an outpatient information system in a two-office,
three-physician family practice, with an average workload of 30 patients per-day;
and reported that a patient record could be updated and maintained for $1.32 for the
computer-based system, compared to $2.56 for similar activities associated with
maintaining a manual, paper-based record system.
Gorman [161] described evaluation of electronic health records based on the
degree to which the system fulfilled its purposes as specified by the users in their
functional requirements. Fernandopulle [133] reported the experience in a not-for-
profit health care system in southern New Jersey; and cited as benefits of the new
electronic health record to be: the ready access to patients’ records; the prescribing
of medication refills that required only a fraction of the time previously required;
communication with consultants and colleagues made easier; and summaries of
patient care compiled more easily. Cited as challenges were periods of slow response
time; down-time; unnecessary clinical alerts and warnings; inability to maintain
accurate medication lists for patients cared for by multiple physicians; and an
increase in time required for physicians to document in comparison with their paper
charting. Another issue was difficulty in correcting dysfunctional software.
On evaluating their electronic health records, some physicians reported difficul-
ties in qualifying for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS)
incentive payments because of inability to fulfill mandated requirements for mean-
ingful use, particularly the requirement for inter-operability of patient data with
other systems. Issues included the lack of standards for the exchange of data between
systems sold by different vendors and the absence of universal patient identification
numbers. Beyond this, concerns arose about data security and privacy should
patients’ data to be stored in the “cloud.”
Some physicians complained about frequent modifications, additions, or
enhancements to their electronic health record system. Physicians also complained
that it was difficult to modify an item to satisfy a desired routine; or to modify an
automatic alert that was not appropriate for their practice; or to satisfy some mean-
ingful use requirement by the specified date. Also many changes were introduced
without adequate training of the users.
The common difficulty in achieving interoperability and data exchange between
systems from different vendors was generally attributed to a lack of incentives for
vendors to standardize on data transfer between competitive systems. In addition,
some vendors had concerns related to maintaining privacy if confidential data were
sent elsewhere. Some vendors struggled to maintain compatibility between the
274 M.F. Collen et al.
many distinct applications and subsystems within their own systems; to maintain an
additional compatibility would not be easy or inexpensive, particularly in an eco-
nomically competitive marketplace [302].
Since many physicians faced difficulties in adopting an electronic health records,
the Office of the National Coordinator for Health Information Technology (ONC)
funded 60 Health Information Technology Regional Extension Centers (RECs) to
assist healthcare practitioners to adopt and meaningfully use their electronic health
records [224]. The Rand Corporation prepared a Guide to Reducing Unintended
Consequences of Electronic Records that described how unintended consequences
could occur at any time during and after an electronic health records was imple-
mented, and how that could result from complex interactions between technology
and the surrounding work environment. To avoid some adverse unintended conse-
quences, they recommended: (1) actively involving clinicians and staff in the re-
assessment of the quality of technology solutions; (2) continually monitoring for
problems and for errors, and addressing any issues as quickly as possible; (3)
reviewing skipped or rejected alerts; (4) requiring departmental review and sign-off
on orders created outside the usual parameters; (5) providing an environment that
protects staff involved in data entry from undue distractions when using the technol-
ogy; and (6) monitoring free text entry that could disable the ability to provide deci-
sion support [191].
DesRoches [115] and associates in Boston medical centers reviewed data col-
lected by a national survey of electronic health records among acute care hospitals,
as to whether their implementation was associated with better performance on stan-
dard process-of-care measures, lower mortality and readmission rates, shorter
lengths-of-stay, and lower inpatient costs. They found a lack of relationships, and
suggested that if electronic health records were to play an important role in promot-
ing effective and efficient care, they needed to be used in a way that would better
drive the health care system toward these goals. Romano [281] studied electronic
health records employing a clinical decision support system (CDSS), and reported
no consistent improvement in the quality of outpatient care. Bitton [30] and associ-
ates in Boston medical centers observed that the notion of health information tech-
nology (HIT) improving patient care was not new; and that the encouragement of
vendors by Federal policy makers in the 2010s to make quality measures more
automated in electronic health records was laudable but insufficient, and that physi-
cians and hospitals needed to demand that vendors generate timely, comprehensive
data on quality and cost of care for all their patients.
Some health insurers complained that providers’ requests for reimbursement of
claims when using electronic health records were greater than before, and that the
use of electronic health records increased the costs of medical care. Physicians
responded that some items needed for proper reimbursement and previously missed,
owing to manual coding of handwritten reports, were now more readily identified in
computer-based electronic health records.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 275
Medical databases rapidly grew in size and variety as computer storage became
cheaper and database designs became more efficient. Federated databases devel-
oped that could store large volumes of aggregated data in multiple partitions, or as
functionally oriented databases that were logically interconnected. They were
directly accessible to-and-from multiple applications, and allowed many users to
simultaneously access and query data [94]. Data warehouses was the term applied
to large, extended, central databases that collected and managed data from several
different databases; they were capable of servicing the ever-increasing volume of
data collected from the ever-changing medical technologies. As data warehouses
further enlarged they often developed partitions and data-marts for specialized sub-
sets of data to better serve users with different functional needs [99]. Data ware-
houses that satisfied the needs of different users to efficiently store and query large
collections of data led to the development of online analytical processing (OLAP),
and of distributed database systems, distributed database management systems, and
of translational data processing between multiple data warehouses.
As computer-based electronic patients’ records (EPRs) replaced paper-based
charts, the hospital medical records department gave way to a computer center that
stored data on magnetic disks. With more powerful computers in the 1990s, physi-
cians began to enter data directly into the patient’s electronic health record using the
keyboard, mouse, and clinical workstation. Dedicated computers became database
servers to store and integrate multiple databases. In the 2000s electronic health records
became more common; in the 2010s federal funding produced more widespread dif-
fusion of electronic health records, and advances in informatics resulted in more effi-
cient data management of expanding, multi-media, patient care databases.
References
1. Alexander MJ, Siegel C. Opinions and feelings: the validity of attitudes toward computers.
Proc SCAMC. 1984; 540–2.
2. Anderson J, Jay S. The diffusion of computer applications in medicine: network locations and
innovation adoption. Proc SCAMC 1984; 549–52.
3. Anderson J. Personal communications to M. Collen. 1986.
4. Anderson JG, Jay SJ, Schweer HM, Anderson MM. Teaching physicians to use a computer-
based information system. Proc AAMSI. 1987a; 207–12.
5. Anderson JG, Jay SJ, Anderson MM, Schweer HM. What do physicians think about comput-
ers? Proc AAMSI. 1987b; 213–7.
6. Anderson JG, Jay SJ, Anderson M, Hunt TJ. Evaluating the potential effectiveness of using
computerized information systems to prevent adverse drug events. Proc AMIA.
1997;9:228–32.
7. Anderson RJ, Young WW. Microcomputers as a management tool for hospital pharmacy
directors. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 231–3.
8. Anderson JG, Jay SJ, Perry J, Anderson MM. Diffusion of computer applications among
physicians. In: Salamon R, Protti D, Moehr J, editors. Proceedings international symposium
on medical informatics and education. Victoria: University of Victoria; 1989. p. 339–42.
9. AP (Associated Press). Felony indictment in computer virus case. San Francisco Chronicle
July 17, 1989; A4(col 1).
276 M.F. Collen et al.
10. Ash SR, Mertz SL, Ulrich DK. The computerized notation system: a portable, self-contained
system for entry of physicians’ and nurses’ notes. J Clin Eng. 1983;8:147–56.
11. Ash SR, Ulrich DK, Laxton DE. The total recall program: a relational office database inter-
facable with briefcase computers. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 429–32.
12. Ausman RK. Automated storage and retrieval of patient data. Am J Surg. 1967;114:159–66.
13. Bailey JE. A tested model for measuring and analyzing hospital computer users’ attitudes.
Proc AAMSI. 1987; 202–6.
14. Baird HW, Garfunkel JM. Electronic data processing of medical records. N Engl J Med.
1965;272:1211–5.
15. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Hospital information systems as we enter the decade of the 80’s. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;1:646–50.
16. Ball M, Magnier EA, Raney WO. Thinking of automating your business system? Hosp
Financ Manage. 1970;24:12–5.
17. Ball MJ, Collen MF. Aspects of the computer-based patient record. New York: Springer; 1992.
18. Ball MJ. Computers: prescription for hospital ills. Datamation. 1975;21:50–1.
19. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Information systems: the status of level 1. Hospitals. 1980a;54:179–86.
20. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Hospital information systems as we enter the decade of the 80s. Proc
SCAMC. 1980b:646–50.
21. Barnett G. Medical information systems at the Massachusetts General Hospital. Proc
International Conference in Health Technology Systems. ORSA Health Applications Section.
1974a; 286–95.
22. Barnett GO. Massachusetts General Hospital computer system. In: Collen MF, editor.
Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974.
23. Barnett GO, Greenes RA. High level programming languages. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:488–94.
24. Barnett GO, Greenes RA, Grossman JH. Computer processing of medical text information.
Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:177–82.
25. Barret JP, Hersch PL, Cashwell RJ. Evaluation of the impact of the Technicon medical infor-
mation system at El Camino Hospital. Part II. Columbus: Battelle Columbus Labs; 1979.
26. Barrett JP, Hersch PL, Caswell RJ. Evaluation of the impact of the implementation of the
Technicon Medical Information System at El Camino Hospital. Part II: economic trend anal-
ysis. Final report 1972; 27.
27. Barsalou T, Wiederhold G. A cooperative hypertext interface to relational databases. Proc
SCAMC. 1989; 383–7.
28. Bean LL, May DL, Skolnick M. The Mormon historical demography project. Hist Methods:
J. 1978;11:45–53.
29. Beaty TH, Khoury MJ. Interface of genetics and epidemiology. Epidemiol Rev.
2000;22:120–5.
30. Bitton A, Flier LA, Jha AK. Health information technology in the era of care delivery reform:
to what end? JAMA. 2012;307:2593–4.
31. Bleich HL, Beckley RF, Horowitz GL, Jackson JD, Moody ES, Franklin C, et al. Clinical
computing in a teaching hospital. N Engl J Med. 1985;312:756–64.
32. Blois MS, Henley RR. Strategies in the planning of hospital information systems. Tech
Report #1. San Francisco: Office of Med Inform Systems, University of California.
33. Blois MS, Tuttle MS, Sherertz DD. RECONSIDER: a program for generating differential
diagnoses. Proc SCAMC. 1981; 263–8.
34. Blois MS. Information and medicine: the nature of medical descriptions. Berkeley: University
of California Press; 1984.
35. Blois MS, Wasserman AI. The integration of hospital information subsystems. San
Francisco: Office of Medical Information Systems, University of California, San Francisco
Medical Center. 1974.
36. Blum BI, Duncan K. A history of medical informatics. New York: Addison Wesley; 1990.
37. Blum BI. Information systems at the Johns Hopkins Hospital. Johns Hopkins APL Tech Rev
Dig. 1983;4:104–7.
38. Blum B. Design methodology. Proc SCAMC. 1989; 277–95.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 277
39. Blum BI. A history of computers. In: Blum B, editor. Clinical information systems. New York:
Springer; 1986. p. 1–32.
40. Blum BI. Design methods for clinical systems. Proc SCAMC. 1986b; 309–15.
41. Blum BI, Tolchin SG. The impact of technology on hospital information systems. Hawaii Int
Conf Syst Sci. 1981; Jan 9, 1989; 14.
42. Blum BI. TEDIUM and the software process. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press; 1990.
43. Blum BI, Johns CJ, McColligan EE, Steinwachs DM. Low cost ambulatory medical informa-
tion system. J Clin Eng. 1979;4:372–7.
44. Blum BI. Clinical information systems. New York: Springer; 1986.
45. Blum BI, Lenhard RE. Privacy and security in an oncology information system. Proc SCAMC
1978; 500–8.
46. Blum RL. Displaying clinical data from a time-oriented database. Comput Biol Med.
1981;11:197–210.
47. Blum RL, Wiederhold G. Inferring knowledge from clinical data banks: utilizing techniques
from artificial intelligence. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 303–7.
48. Blumenthal D. Advancing health information exchange: a message from the Office of the
National Coordinator (ONC), Health and Human Services (HHS). 2010.
49. Blumenthal D. Meaningful progress toward electronic health information exchange. A mes-
sage from ONC, HHS. 2009.
50. Blumenthal D, Tavenner M. The meaningful use of a regulation for electronic health records.
N Engl J Med. 2010;363:501–4.
51. Bokuski M. Correlating gene linkage maps with physical maps of chromosomes. Natl Libr
Med News. 1989; 6.
52. Bond EJ. Hospital information system effectiveness. In: Bekey GA, Schwartz MD, editors.
Hospital information systems. New York: Marcel Dekker; 1972. p. 131–48.
53. Borowitz SM, Wyatt JC. The origin, content, and workload of e-mail consultations. JAMA.
1998;280:1321–4.
54. Botstein D, White RL, Skolnick M, Davis RW. Construction of a genetic linkage map in man
using restriction fragment length polymorphisms. Am J Hum Genet. 1980;32:314.
55. Bradley F, Vermillion CO, Anderson W. Medical records on punch cards. II. Mod Hosp.
1954;82:83–4. passim.
56. Brailer DJ, Blumenthal D. Guiding the health information technology agenda. Health Aff.
2010;29:586–95.
57. Brandt CA, Morse R, Matthews K, Sun K, Deshpande AM, Gadagkar R, et al. Metadata-
driven creation of data marts from an EAV-modeled clinical research database. Int J Med
Inform. 2002;65:225–41.
58. Brannigan VM. Remote telephone access: the critical issue in patient privacy. Proc SCAMC.
1984; 575–8.
59. Brook RH, Harris TR, Lewis CE. Sizing up primary care needs. Patient Care. 1977 (July 15);
70–111.
60. Bryan M. The year of the data base. Personal Comput. 1988; Jan; 100–9.
61. Buhle Jr E, Goldwein JW, Benjamin I. OncoLink: a multimedia oncology information
resource on the Internet. Proc AMIA. 1994; 103–7.
62. Burnett KK, Battle H, Cant GD. Uniform Health-Care Information Act. Chicago: National
Conference of Commissioners on Uniform State Laws; 1985.
63. Buyse ML. Computer-based information retrieval and decision support for birth defects and
genetic disorders. Pediatrics. 1984;74:557–8.
64. Camp HN, Ridley ML, Walker HK. THERESA: a computerized medical consultant based on
the patient record. Proc MEDINFO. 1983; 612–4.
65. Campbell KE, Cohn SP, Chute CG, Shortliffe EH, Rennels G. Scalable methodologies for
distributed development of logic-based convergent medical terminology. Methods Inf Med.
1998;37:426–39.
66. Campbell-Kelly M, Aspray W, Ensmenger N, Yost JR. Computer: a history of the information
machine. Boulder: Westview Press; 2009.
67. Campbell-Kelly M. Origin of computing. Sci Am. 2009;301:62–9.
278 M.F. Collen et al.
68. Carlisle RG. A concept and methodology for evaluating automated information systems for
multi-facility health care systems. Proc SCAMC. 1979; 334–8.
69. Carlisle RG. Measures and indicators of health care system effectiveness and economy. In:
Emlet H, editor. Challenges and prospects for advanced medical systems. Miami: Symposia
Specialists, Inc; 1978. p. 191–7.
70. Carson JL, Ray WA, Strom BL. Medical databases. In: Strom BL, editor.
Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 307–24.
71. Chaney RJ, Shipman FM, Gorry GA. Using hypertext to facilitate information sharing in
biomedical research groups. Proc SCAMC. 1989; 350–4.
72. Chen RS, Nadkarni P, Marenco L, Levin F, Erdos J, Miller PL. Exploring performance issues
for a clinical database organized using an entity-attribute-value representation. JAMIA.
2000;7:475–87.
73. CHPL. Certified Health IT Product list. 2015. Office of the National Coordinator: healthit.gov.
74. Chung CS. Genetic analysis of human family and population data with use of digital computers.
Proc of 3rd IBM Medical Symposium Endicott: International Business Machines. 1961; 53–69
75. Cimino JJ, Socratous SA, Grewal R. The informatics superhighway: prototyping on the
World Wide Web. Proc SCAMC. 1995; 111–5
76. Clayton PD, Urie PM, Marshall HW, Warner HR. A computerized system for the cardiovas-
cular laboratory. IEEE Proceedings of Conference on Computers in Cardiology, Bethesda,
Maryland 1974; 97.
77. Codd EF. Further normalizations of the data base relational model. In: Rustin R, editor. Data
base systems. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall; 1972. p. 33–64.
78. Codd EF. A relational model of data for large shared data banks. Commun ACM.
1970;13:377–87.
79. Codd EF, Codd SB, Salley CT. Providing OLAP (on-line analytical processing) to user-
analysts: an IT mandate. San Jose, CA: Codd and Associates. 1993; 32.
80. Coffey RM. How a medical information system affects hospital costs: the El Camino hospital
experience. NCHS&R, DHEW Pub No. (PHS) 80–3265; 1980.
81. Collen M. A guide matrix for technological system evaluation. J Med Syst. 1978;2:249–54.
82. Collen M. Problems with presentation of computer data. In: Anderson J, editor. Information
processing of medical records. Amsterdam: North-Holland; 1970. p. 407–11.
83. Collen MF. A history of medical informatics in the United States, 1950 to 1990. Indianapolis:
American Medical Informatics Association; 1995.
84. Collen MF. The origins of informatics. JAMIA. 1994;1:91–107.
85. Collen MF. Clinical research databases – a historical review. J Med Syst. 1990;14:323–44.
86. Collen MF. Origins of medical informatics. West J Med. 1986;145:778–85.
87. Collen MF. The cost-effectiveness of health checkups – an illustrative study. West J Med.
1984;141:786–92.
88. Collen MF. Foreword. Proc AMIA. 1982.
89. Collen MF. General requirements of a medical information (MIS). Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:393–406.
90. Collen MF. Medical bibliographic databases. In: Collen MF, editor. Computer medical data-
bases. London: Springer; 2012.
91. Collen MF. Automated multiphasic health testing. In: Collen MF, editor. Multiphasic health
testing services. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 274–94.
92. Collen MF, Van Brunt EE, Davis LS. Problems of computerization of large computer medical
record systems. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:47–53.
93. Collins FS. Identification of disease genes: recent successes. Hosp Pract (Off Ed).
1991;26:93–8.
94. Coltri A. Databases in health care. In: Lehmann HP, editor. Aspects of electronic health
record systems. New York: Springer; 2006. p. 225–51.
95. Commission for Privacy Protection. Personal privacy in an information society: the report of
the Privacy Protection Study Commission. Washington, DC: The Commission; 1977.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 279
96. Conn J. Commonwealth Fund names Dr. David Blumenthal as next president. Modern
Healthcare.com. 2012a.
97. Conn J. No single winner in doc’s EHR rankings. Modern Healthcare.com. 2012b.
98. Connelly D. The deployment of a World Wide Web (W3) based medical information system.
Proc AMIA. 1995; 771–7.
99. Connolly TM, Begg CE. Database management systems: a practical approach to design.
New York: Addison-Wesley; 1999.
100. Cook M. Introduction of a user-oriented THIS into a community hospital setting-nursing.
Proc MEDINFO. 1974; 303–4.
101. Cooper GF, Hennings-Yeomans P, Visweswaran S, Barmada M. An efficient Bayesian
method for predicting clinical outcomes from genome-wide data. Proc AMIA Annu Symp.
2010; 127–31.
102. Corvin A, Craddock N, Sullivan PF. Genome-wide association studies: a primer. Psychol
Med. 2010;40:1063–77.
103. Countie MA, Kjerulff KH, Salloway JC, Campbell BC. Implementing computerization in
hospitals: a case study of the behavioral and attitudinal impacts of a medical information
system. In: Anderson J, Jay SJ, editors. Use and impacts of computers in clinical medicine.
New York: Springer; 1987. p. 224–37.
104. Curran WJ, Stearns B, Kaplan H. Privacy, confidentiality and other legal considerations in
the establishment of a centralized health-data system. N Engl J Med. 1969;281:241.
105. Curran WJ, Kaplan H, Laska EM, Bank R. Protection of privacy and confidentiality: unique
law protects patient records in a multistate psychiatric information system. Science.
1973;182:797–802.
106. Cutts JW, Mitchell JA. Microcomputer-based genetics offer database system. Proc AAMSI.
1985; 487–91.
107. Davis LS. Data processing facilities. In: Collen M, editor. Hospital computer systems.
New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 32–51.
108. Davis LS. Prototype for future computer medical records. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:539–54.
109. Davis LS, Terdiman J. The medical data base. In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer sys-
tems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 52–79.
110. Davis LS. A system approach to medical information. Methods Inf Med. 1973;12:1–6.
111. Davis LS, Collen MF, Rubin L, Van Brunt EE. Computer-stored medical record. Comput
Biomed Res. 1968;1:452–69.
112. Dawson J. A family of models. Byte. 1989;14:277–86.
113. DeBrota D. Man/microcomputer telephone communication. MD Comput. 1986;3:24.
114. Denny JC, Ritchie MD, Basford MA, Pulley JM, Bastarache L, Brown-Gentry K, et al.
PheWAS: demonstrating the feasibility of a phenome-wide scan to discover gene-disease
associations. Bioinformatics. 2010;26:1205–10.
115. DesRoches CM, Campbell EG, Vogeli C, Zheng J, Rao SR, Shields AE, et al. Electronic
health records’ limited successes suggest more targeted uses. Health Aff.
2010;29:639–46.
116. Dick RS, Steen EB, Detmer DE. The computer-based patient record: an essential technology
for health care. Washington, DC: National Academy Press; 1991.
117. DiGiulio LW, Zinn TK. Actualizing system benefits – part V. Comput Healthc. 1988;9:30–2.
118. Dintleman SM, Maness AT, Skolnick M, Bean LL. In: Dyke B, Morrill WT, editors.
GENISYS: a genealogical information system. New York: Academic; 1980. p. 94–114.
119. Dinu V, Nadkarni P. Guidelines for the effective use of entity-attribute-value modeling for
biomedical databases. Int J Med Inform. 2007;76:769–79.
120. Doherty RB. The certitudes and uncertainties of health care reform. Ann Intern Med.
2010;152:679–82.
121. Drazen EL, Seidel FJ. Implementation monitoring: a critical step towards realizing benefits
from hospital information systems. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 148–51.
122. Drazen EL, Metzger J. Methods for evaluating automated hospital information systems. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;1:673–8.
280 M.F. Collen et al.
123. Drazen EL, Metzger J. Methods for evaluating costs of automated hospital information sys-
tems. NCHRS research summary series. DHHS Pub No. (PHS) 81–3283.
124. Duke JR, Bowers GH. Scope and sites of electronic health records systems. In: Lehmann HP,
Roderer N, Abbott P, editors. Aspects of electronic health record systems. New York:
Springer; 2006. p. 89–114.
125. Eden HS, Eden M. Changes: the technology’s effect on the health care system. In: Eden HS,
Eden M, editors. Microcomputers in patient care. Park Ridge: Noyes Medical Publications;
1981. p. 47.
126. Emlet HE. Methodology for evaluation of medical information systems. In: Emlet H, editor.
Challenges and prospects for advanced medical systems. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1978.
p. 183–90.
127. Emlet HE, Carlisle RG. Measures and indicators for evaluation of innovations to the health
care system. Falls Church: Analytic Services; 1977.
128. Epstein MH, Epstein LH, Emerson RG. A low cost micro-computer based local area network
for medical office and medical center automation. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 793–5.
129. Evans S, Lemon SJ, Deters CA, Fusaro RM, Lynch HT. Automated detection of hereditary
syndromes using data mining. Comput Biomed Res. 1997;30:337–48.
130. Evans S, Lemon SJ, Deters C, Fusaro RM, Durham C, Snyder C, et al. Using data mining to
characterize DNA mutations by patient clinical features. Proc AMIA. 1997b; 253–7.
131. Feinstein AR. The problem with the “problem-oriented medical record”. Ann Intern Med.
1973;78:752–62.
132. Feistel H. Cryptography and computer privacy. Sci Am. 1973;228:15–23.
133. Fernandopulle R, Patel N. How the electronic health record did not measure up to the
demands of our medical home practice. Health Aff. 2010;29:622–8.
134. Flagle CD. Methodological problems in technology assessment of medical informatics. Proc
AAMSI. 1985; 414–8.
135. Flagle CD. Evaluation of healthcare. Proc MEDINFO. 1983; 46–9.
136. Flagle CD. Information requirements for evaluation and planning of innovative health ser-
vices. Proc MEDINFO. 1980; 615–9.
137. Flagle CD. An overview of evaluation methods. In: Goldman J, editor. Health care technol-
ogy evaluation. Lecture notes in medical informatics. New York: Springer; 1979. p. 33–42.
138. Flagle CD. Evaluation and control of technology in health services. Conference on
Technology and Health Care Systems in the 1980’s. DHEW Pub (HSM) 73-3016. 1972;
213–24.
139. Flagle CD. Evaluation techniques for medical information systems. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:407–14.
140. Frawley WJ, Piatetsky-Shapiro G, Matheus CJ. Knowledge discovery in databases: an over-
view. AI Mag. 1992;13:57.
141. Freed RN. Legal aspects of computer use in medicine. In: Medical progress and the law.
Durham: Duke University School of Law. 1967; 674–706.
142. Frieden J. Obama signs Healthcare Reconciliation Bill. MePage Today, March 30, 2010.
143. Friedman C, Hripcsak G, Johnson SB, Cimino JJ, Clayton PD. A generalized relational
schema for an integrated clinical patient database. Proc SCAMC. 1990; 335–9.
144. Fries JF. The chronic disease data bank: first principles to future directions. J Med Philos.
1984;9:161–80.
145. Fries JF. Alternatives in medical record formats. Med Care. 1974;12:871–81.
146. Gabrieli ER. Interface problems between medicine and computers. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 93–5
147. Gall J. Computerized hospital information system cost-effectiveness: a case study. In: van
Egmond J, de Vries Robbe PF, Levy AH, eds. Amsterdam: North Holland. 1976; 281–93
148. Gall J. Cost-benefit analysis: total hospital informatics. In: Koza RC, editor. Health informa-
tion systems evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 299–327.
149. Galland J, Skolnick MH. A gene mapping expert system. Comput Biomed Res.
1990;23:297–309.
150. Garfolo B, Keltner L. A computerized disease register. Proc MEDINFO. 1983; 909–12.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 281
151. Garrett L, Stead WW, Hammond WE. Conversion of manual to total computerized medical
records. J Med Syst. 1983;7:301–5.
152. Garrett P, Seidman J. EMR vs EHR – what is the difference? HealthITBuzz, January 2011.
153. Gersting J, Conneally P, Beidelman K. Huntington’s disease research Roster support with a
microcomputer database management system. Proc SCAMC. 1983; 746–9.
154. Gersting JM. Rapid prototyping of database systems in human genetics data collection. J
Med Syst. 1987;11:177–89.
155. Giannakopoulos S, Hammer J. Requirements for the small office practice. Proc SCAMC.
1980; 1778–81.
156. Glichlich RE, Dreyer NA. Registries for evaluating patient outcomes: a user’s guide AHRQ
Pub. # 7-EHC001-1. Rockville: Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality; 2007. p. 1–233.
157. Glowniak JV. Medical resources on the Internet. Ann Intern Med. 1995;123:123–31.
158. Goldman J. Evaluation of technological innovations in health. In: Koza RC, editor. Health
information system evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 45–61.
159. Gordon BL. Terminology and content of the medical record. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:436–44.
160. Gordon BL. Regularization and stylization of medical records. JAMA. 1970;212:1502–7.
161. Gorman PN. Evaluation of electronic health record systems. In: Lehmann HP, Abbott P,
Roderer N, editors. Aspects of electronic health record systems. New York: Springer; 2006.
p. 401–15.
162. Grann RP. Attitudes and effective use of computers among hospital personnel. Proc SCAMC.
1984; 543–7.
163. Graves J. Design of a database to support intervention modeling in nursing. Proc MEDINFO.
1986;240:242.
164. Graves M, Bergeman ER, Lawrence CB. A graph conceptual model for developing human
genome center databases. Comput Biol Med. 1996;26:183–97.
165. Grossman JH, Barnett GO, Koepsell TD, Nesson HR, Dorsey JL, Phillips RR. An automated
medical record system. JAMA. 1973;224:1616–21.
166. Hafner K, Lyon M. Where wizards stay up late: the origins of the Internet. New York: Simon
& Schuster; 1996.
167. Halamka JD. Making the most of federal health information technology regulations. Health
Aff. 2010;29:596–600.
168. Hammon GL, Drake MV. Hospital data processing presents unique security needs. Hospitals.
1976;50:103–5.
169. Hammond W, Stead W, Straube M, Kelly M, Winfree R. An interface between a hospital
information system and a computerized medical record. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1537–40.
170. Hammond WE, Straube MJ, Blunden PB, Stead WW. Query: the language of databases. Proc
SCAMC. 1989;13:419–23.
171. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. Planned networking for medical information sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1985; 727–31.
172. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Feagin SJ, Brantley BA, Straube MJ. Data base management
system for ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC. 1977; 173–87.
173. Harris DK, Polli GJ. Confidentiality of computerized patient information. Am Med Assoc
(Resolution 38, A-77). Comput Med (Special report). 1977;1–6.
174. Health Information Technology for Economic and Clinical Health (HITECH) Act. American
Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 (ARRA) Pub. L. No. 111-5. 2009.
175. Helvey W, Brdlik M, Peterkin K. Online medical databases – 1985: status and prognosis.
Healthc Comput Commun. 1985;2:28.
176. Henley RR, Wiederhold G. An analysis of automated ambulatory medical record systems.
San Francisco: Office of Medical Information Systems, University of California, San
Francisco Medical Center; 1975.
177. Herger W. New law can fight computer viruses. USA Today. 1988.
178. Hersh WR, Brown KE, Donohoe LC, Campbell EM, Horacek AE. Clini web: managing clini-
cal information on the World Wide Web. JAMIA. 1996;3:273–80.
282 M.F. Collen et al.
179. HIMSS Analytics. Essentials of the U.S Hospital IT Market. Chicago: Health Information
Management and Systems Society; 2011.
180. Hinman EJ. The patient-carried personal health record. In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced
medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1977. p. 55–62.
181. Hodge MH. Medical information systems: a resource for hospitals. Germantown: Aspen
Publishers, Inc; 1977.
182. Hoffman LJ. Computers and privacy: a survey. ACM Comput Surv (CSUR).
1969;1:85–103.
183. Hripcsak G, Allen B, Cimino JJ, Lee R. Access to data: comparing AccessMed with query by
review. JAMIA. 1996;3:288–99.
184. Jacobs P. Training for an MIS implementation: what does it really cost? Proc SCAMC. 1984;
156–9.
185. Jelovsek F, Smith R, Blackmon L, Hammond W. Computerized nursery discharge summary.
Methods Inf Med. 1977;16:199–204.
186. Jelovsek FR. Doctor’s office computer prep kit. New York: Springer; 1985.
187. Jelovsek FR. The medical record: session overview. Proc SCAMC. 1983; 99–100.
188. Johnson RL. Economic benefits of hospital system automation. US Healthc. 1989;6:38–40.
concl.
189. Johnson SB. Generic data modeling for clinical repositories. JAMIA. 1996;3:328–39.
190. Johnson SB, Chatziantoniou D. Extended SQL for manipulating clinical warehouse data.
Proc AMIA. 1999; 819–23.
191. Jones SS, Koppel R, Ridgely MS, Palen TE, Wu S, Harrison MI. Guide to reducing unin-
tended consequences of electronic health records. Rockville: Agency for Healthcare Research
and Quality; 2011.
192. Juni JE, Ponto R. Computer-virus infection of a medical diagnosis computer. N Engl J Med.
1989;320:811–2.
193. Jydstrup RA, Gross MJ. Cost of information handling in hospitals. Health Serv Res.
1966;1:235.
194. Kang K, Merritt A, Conneally P, Gersting J, Rigo T. A medical genetics data base manage-
ment system. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 524–9.
195. Karpinski RH, Bleich HL. MISAR: a miniature information storage and retrieval system.
Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:655–60.
196. Kennedy OG, Colligon SJ, Protte DJ. Impact of medical information systems on health care
in the U.S.A. Proc MEDINFO. 1980; 1058–62.
197. Khosrowpour M. Managing computer fraud/crime in healthcare organizations. Healthc
Comput Commun. 1987;4:59–62. 64.
198. King JL, Schrems EL. Cost-benefit analysis in information systems development and opera-
tion. ACM ACM Comput Surv(CSUR). 1978;10:19–34.
199. Kjerulff KH, Counte MA. Measuring attitudes toward computers: two approaches. Proc
SCAMC. 1984; 529–35.
200. Klarman HE. Application of cost-benefit analysis to health systems technology. In: Collen M,
ed. Technology and health care systems in the 1980s. DHEW Pub (HSM) 73-3016. 1973;
225–50.
201. Kolodner RM, Cohn SP, Friedman CP. Health information technology: strategic initiatives,
real progress. Health Aff. 2008;27:w391–5.
202. Kuhn IM, Wiederhold G, Rodnick JE. Automated medical record systems in the U.S. In:
Blum BI, editor. Information systems for patient care. New York: Springer; 1984.
p. 199–271.
203. Kuhn IM, Wiederhold G, Rodnick JE, Ransey-Klee D, Benett S, Beck DD. Automated ambu-
latory record systems in the US. NTIS Publication (1982, August). 1982; 178–89.
204. Kuhn IM, Wiederhold G. The evolution of ambulatory medical record systems in the US. Proc
SCAMC. 1981; 80–5.
205. Kuzmak PM, Arseniev M, Tolchin SG, Bergan E. Proposal for interfacing MUMPS to an
open systems interconnection network architecture. Proc MEDINFO. 1986; 853–7.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 283
206. Lamson BG. A panel session. Computers in medicine: problems and perspectives. Proc
AFIPS Conf. 1971; 195.
207. Levinson D. Information, computers, and clinical practice. JAMA. 1983;249:607–9.
208. Levy RP, Cammarn MR, Smith MJ. Computer handling of ambulatory clinic records. JAMA.
1964;190:1033–7.
209. Liggett B. Why computerized medical records systems are not widely used. Comput Med
Record News. 1968;1:1–7.
210. Lindberg D. The impact of automated information systems applied to health problems. In:
Holland WW, editor. Oxford Oxfordshire: Oxford University Press. 1985; 55–76.
211. Lindberg D. The growth of medical information systems in the United States. Lexington:
Lexington Books; 1979.
212. Lindberg D. Special aspects of medical computer records with respect to data privacy. In:
Williams B, ed. Proc 2nd Illinois Conf Med Inform Syst. 1975; 35–8.
213. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
214. Lindberg DAB. The development and diffusion of a medical technology: medical informa-
tion systems. In: Sanders CA et al., editors. Medical technology and the health care system:
a study of the diffusion of equipment-embodied technology. Washington, DC: National
Academy of Sciences;1979;201–39.
215. Linowes DF. Personal privacy in an information society: the report of the Privacy Protection
Study Commission. Washington, DC: US Govt Print Office; 1977. 052-003-00395-3.
216. Lloyd SS, Rissing JP. Physician and coding errors in patient records. JAMA.
1985;254:1330–6.
217. London JW. A computer solution to clinical and research computing needs. Proc SCAMC.
1985; 722–6.
218. Long JM. On providing an automated health record for individuals. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;
805–9.
219. Lowe HJ, Lomax EC, Polonkey SE. The World Wide Web: a review of an emerging internet-
based technology for the distribution of biomedical information. JAMIA. 1996;3:1–14.
220. Lowe HJ, Antipov I, Walker WK, Polonkey SE, Naus GJ. WebReport: a World Wide Web
based clinical multimedia reporting system. Proc AMIA. 1996b; 314.
221. Manos D. CMS pays out more than $5B in incentives. HealthcareIT News. 2012.
222. Marrs KA, Kahn MG. Extending a clinical repository to include multiple sites. Proc AMIA.
1995; 387–91.
223. Mathur S, Dinakarpandian D. Automated ontological gene annotation for computing disease
similarity. Proc AMIA TBI. 2010; 12.
224. Maxson E, Jain S, Kendall M, Mostashari F, Blumenthal D. The regional extension center
program: helping physicians meaningfully use health information technology. Ann Intern
Med. 2010;153:666–70.
225. McCray AT. The nature of lexical knowledge. Methods Inf Med. 1998;37:353–60.
226. McDonald CJ, Overhage JM, Dexter PR, Blevins L, Meeks-Johnson J, Suico JG, et al.
Canopy computing: using the Web in clinical practice. JAMA. 1998;280:1325–9.
227. McDonald C, Blevins L, Glazener T, Haas J, Lemmon L, Meeks-Johnson J. Data base man-
agement, feedback control, and the Regenstrief medical record. J Med Syst. 1983;7:111–25.
228. McDonald CJ, Hammond WE. Standard formats for electronic transfer of clinical data. Ann
Intern Med. 1989;110:333–5.
229. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. Computer-stored medical records: their future role in medical
practice. JAMA. 1988;259:3433–40.
230. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. The Medical Gopher: a microcomputer system to help find,
organize and decide about patient data. West J Med. 1986;145:823.
231. McDonald CJ, Blevins L, Glazener TT, Lemmon L, Martin D, Valenza M. CARE: a real
world medical knowledge base. COMPCON. 1984; 187–91.
232. McDonald CJ, Murray R, Jeris D, Bhargava B, Seeger J, Blevins L. A computer-based record
and clinical monitoring system for ambulatory care. Am J Public Health. 1977;67:240–5.
284 M.F. Collen et al.
233. McDonald CJ, Wilson G, Blevins L, Seeger J, Chamness D, Smith D, et al. The Regenstrief
medical record system. Proceedings of the Annual Symposium on Computer Application in
Medical Care 1977b; 168.
234. McKinney WP, Wagner JM, Bunton G, Kirk LM. A guide to Mosaic and the World Wide Web
for physicians. MD Comput: Comput Med Pract. 1994;12:109–14. 141.
235. McKusick VA. Some computer applications to problems in human genetics. Methods Inf
Med. 1964;4:183–9.
236. McKusick VA, Talbot SA. Analysis of genetic linkage in man with assistance of digital com-
puter. Proc 1st IBM Medical Symp. Poughkeepsie, NY: IBM. 1959; 217–27.
237. McKusick VA. Forty years of medical genetics. JAMA. 1989;261:3155–8.
238. McKusick VA. Mendelian inheritance in man: catalogs of autosomal dominant, autosomal
recessive, and X-linked phenotypes. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press; 1988.
239. McKusick VA. Computers in research in human genetics. J Chronic Dis. 1966;19:427–41.
240. McNamara JJ. Legal aspects of computerized medical records. JAMA. 1968;205:153–4.
241. Meaney FJ. Databases for genetic services. J Med Syst. 1987;11:227–32.
242. Merz B. 700 genes mapped at world workshop. JAMA. 1989;262:175.
243. Michalski RS, Baskin AB, Spackman KA. A logic-based approach to conceptual data base
analysis. Inform Health Soc Care. 1983;8:187–95.
244. Miller MC, Levkoff AH, Wong YM, Michel Y. Normal newborn nursery information system.
Proc AAMSI. 1983; 154–62.
245. Miller PL, Nadkarni PM, Kidd KK, Cheung K, Ward DC, Banks A, et al. Internet-based sup-
port for bioscience research: a collaborative genome center for human chromosome 12.
JAMIA. 1995;2:351–64.
246. Miller RA, Schaffner KF, Meisel A. Ethical and legal issues related to the use of computer
programs in clinical medicine. Ann Intern Med. 1985;102:529–36.
247. Miller RF. Computers and privacy: what price analytic power? Proc ACM. 1971; 706–16.
248. Mishelevich DJ, Gipe WG, Roberts JR, et al. Cost-benefit analysis in a computer-based hos-
pital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1979:339–49.
249. Mishelevich DJ, MacGregor WD, Gipe WG, Granfill LD. Distribution of data processing
costs for a hospital information system on a cost-per-incident-of-service basis. Proc SCAMC.
1980:658–64.
250. Mishelevich DJ, Kesinger G, Jasper M, Inga P, Robinson AL, Gaige W, et al. Medical record
control and the computer. Top Health Rec Manage. 1981;2:47–55.
251. Mitchell JA, Loughman WD, Epstein CJ. GENFILES: a computerized medical genetics
information network. II. MEDGEN: the clinical genetics system. Am J Med Genet.
1980;7:251–66.
252. Moorman P, Schuemie M, van der Lei J. An inventory of publications on electronic medical
records revisited. Methods Inf Med. 2009;48:454–8.
253. Mosquera M. $400 M in EHR incentives delivered. Government Heathcareitnews. 2011.
254. Mount SA. Annual administrative reviews: medical records. Hospitals. 1965;39:125.
255. Murphy EA, Sherwin RW. Estimation of genetic linkage: an outline. Methods Inf Med.
1966;5:45–54.
256. Murphy EA, Schulze J. A program for estimation of genetic linkage in man. Proceedings of
3rd IBM Medical Symposium.“ International Business Machines, New York. 1961.
257. Nadkarni PM, Cheung K. SQLGEN: a framework for rapid client-server database application
development. Comput Biomed Res. 1995;28:479–99.
258. Nadkarni PM, Marenco L. Easing the transition between attribute-value databases and con-
ventional databases for scientific data. Proc AMIA. 2001; 483–7.
259. Nadkarni PM, Brandt CM, Marenco L. WebEAV: automatic metadata-driven generation of
web interfaces to entity-attribute-value databases. JAMIA. 2000;7:343–56.
260. Nadkarni PM, Marenco L, Chen R, Skoufos E, Shepherd G, Miller P. Organization of hetero-
geneous scientific data using the EAV/CR representation. JAMIA. 1999;6:478–93.
261. Nadkarni PM, Brandt C, Frawley S, Sayward FG, Einbinder R, Zelterman D, et al. Managing
attribute – value clinical trials data using the ACT/DB client-server database system. JAMIA.
1998;5:139–51.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 285
262. NCHSR&D. Summary report on hospital information systems. Springfield: National Center
for Health Services and Health Care Technology Programs; 1969.
263. Norwood D. Introduction of user-oriented THIS into a community hospital setting: introduc-
tion and system description. Proc MEDINFO. 1974; 295–8.
264. ONC. The Office of the National Coordinator for Health Information Technology. HealthIT.
hhs.gov.ONC 2012.
265. Ostrowski M, Bernes MR. The TMR data dictionary: a management tool for data base design.
Proc SCAMC. 1984; 829–32.
266. OTA. Policy implications of medical information systems. Washington, DC: Office of
Technology Assessment; 1977. p. 58–63.
267. OTA. The implications of cost-effectiveness analysis of medical technology. Washington,
DC: Office of Technology Assessment; 1980.
268. Pendse N. Online analytical processing. Wikipedia. 2008; 2008.
269. Prokosch HU, Seuchter SA, Thompson EA, Skolnick MH. Applying expert system tech-
niques to human genetics. Comput Biomed Res. 1989;22:234–47.
270. Pryor DB, Stead WW, Hammond WE, Califf RM, Rosati RA. Features of TMR for a success-
ful clinical and research database. Proc SCAMC. 1982; 79–84.
271. Pryor TA, Gardner RM, Clayton PD, Warner HR. The HELP system. J Med Syst.
1983;7:87–102.
272. Richart RH. Evaluation of a hospital computer system. In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital com-
puter systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 341–417.
273. Richart RH. Evaluation of a medical data system. Comput Biomed Res. 1970;3:415–25.
274. Rind DM, Davis R, Safran C. Designing studies of computer-based alerts and reminders. MD
Comput. 1995;12:122.
275. Roach CJ. Patient data processing – the key to hospital automation. Am J Med Electron.
1962;1:51.
276. Roach J, Lee S, Wilcke J, Ehrich M. An expert system for information on pharmacology and
drug interactions. Comput Biol Med. 1985;15:11–23.
277. Robson D. Object-oriented software systems. 1981.
278. Rodnick JE, Wiederhold G. A review of automated ambulatory medical record systems in the
United States: charting services that are of benefit to the physician. Proc.MEDINFO. 1977;
957–61.
279. Rogers JL, Haring OM, Phifer JF. Carry-over of medical information system influence to
control patients. Eval Health Prof. 1984;7:43–51.
280. Romano CA. Privacy, confidentiality, and security of computerized systems: the nursing
responsibility. Comput Nurs. 1987;5:99.
281. Romano MJ, Stafford RS. Electronic health records and clinical decision support systems:
impact on national ambulatory care quality. Arch Intern Med. 2011;171:897–903.
282. Rubin AD, Risley JF. The PROPHET system: an experiment in providing a computer
resource to scientists. Proc MEDINFO. 1977; 77–81.
283. Sadock RT, Saunders SA. A security system for a computerized medical record. Proc
SCAMC. 1984; 854–7
284. Safran C, Chute CG. Exploration and exploitation of clinical databases. Int J Biomed Comput.
1995;39:151–6.
285. Salmon P, Rappaport A, Bainbridge M, Hayes G, Williams J. Taking the problem oriented
medical record forward. Proc AMIA. 1996; 463–7.
286. Schauffler HH, Koran RE. A methodology for estimating costs and benefits of medical infor-
mation systems. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 152–5.
287. Schlager DD. A comprehensive patient care system for the family practice. J Med Syst.
1983;7:137–45.
288. Schmitz HH. An evaluation of the immediate financial impact of the hospital information
system at Deaconess Hospital. In: Koza RC, editor. Health information systems evaluation.
Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 265–82.
289. Schwartz SR, Stinson C, Berlant J. Computers in psychiatry. MD Comput. 1985;2:42–50.
286 M.F. Collen et al.
290. Seidel K, Peeples J. The evaluation and implementation of an automated medical transcrip-
tion. In: Anonymous Chicago: American Hospital Association, Center for Hospital
Management Engineering. 1977; 67–90.
291. Seuchter SA, Skolnick MH. HGDBMS: a human genetics database management system.
Comput Biomed Res. 1988;21:478–87.
292. Shannon JA. Federal support of biomedical sciences: development and academic impact. J
Med Educ. 1976;51:1–98.
293. Shannon RH, Ball MJ. Patient-oriented classification of medical data-aid to systems-analysis
and design. Biosci Commun. 1976;2:282–92.
294. Shea S, Hripcsak G. Accelerating the use of electronic health records in physician practices.
N Engl J Med. 2010;362:192–5.
295. Shortliffe EH. Networking health: learning from others, taking the lead. Health Aff
(Millwood). 2000;19:9–22.
296. Shortliffe EH. The next generation Internet and health care: a civics lesson for the informatics
community. Proc AMIA. 1998; 8–14.
297. Siemon JH, Kuratomi RM. Automated record tracking as a component of a management
information system. In: Topics in health record management. Germantown: Aspen Systems;
1982. p. 54–65.
298. Simborg DW. Local area networks: why? what? what if? MD Comput. 1984;1:10–20.
299. Simborg DW, Shearer M, Daniels L, Moss J. A medical records department system: a vital
node in a hospital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1981; 830.
300. Simborg DW, Macdonald LK, Liebman JS, Musco P. Ward information-management system:
an evaluation. Comput Biomed Res. 1972;5:484–97.
301. Simon HA. What computers mean for man and society. Science. 1977;195:1186–91.
302. Sittig DF, Campbell E, Guappone K, Dykstra R, Ash JS. Recommendations for monitoring
and evaluation of in-patient computer-based provider order entry systems: results of a Delphi
survey. Proc AMIA Annu Symp. 2007; 671–5.
303. Skolnick M. The Utah genealogical database: a resource for genetic epidemiology. Banbury
Rep. 1980;4:285–97.
304. Skolnick M, Bean L, May D, Arbon V. Mormon demographic history I. Nuptiality and fertil-
ity of once-married couples. Popul Stud. 1978;32:5–19.
305. Spencer WA. An opinion survey of computer applications in 149 hospitals in the USA,
Europe and Japan. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:215–34.
306. Springer EW. Automated medical records and the law. Germantown: Aspen Publishers; 1971.
307. Stead WW. A quarter-century of computer-based medical records. MD Comput.
1989;6:74–81.
308. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Computer-based medical records: the centerpiece of TMR. MD
Comput. 1988;5:48–62.
309. Stead WW, Wiederhold G, Gardner RM. Database systems for computer-based patient
records. In: Ball MJ, Collen MF, editors. Aspects of the computer-based patient record.
New York: Springer; 1992. p. 83–98.
310. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Demand-oriented medical records: toward a physician work sta-
tion. Proc SCAMC. 1987; 275–80.
311. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Straube MJ. A chartless record: is it adequate? J Med Syst.
1983;7:103–9.
312. Steinbach GL, Busch JF. Combining voice and data communication in a hospital environ-
ment. Proc SCAMC. 1985; 712–7.
313. Stuart RB, Bair JH. The effect of the problem-oriented medical record on comprehensiveness
of care as reflected in the clinical record. Houston: Fort Sam, Health Care Studies Division,
Academy of Health Sciences; 1972. p. 1–13.
314. Stuart RB, Rahm AE, Bair JH. Army physicians’ attitudes toward the problem-oriented medi-
cal record. Houston: Fort Sam, Health Care Studies Division, Brook Army Medical Center;
1972. p. 1–15.
315. Swyers JP. Genetic data base service. Research Resources Reporter. 1989 (Dec); 13–4.
4 Medical Databases and Patient Record Systems 287
316. Tang PC. Futurescope, the advent of electronic medical records. Decisions Imaging Econ.
1989;2:4–10.
317. Terdiman J. Ambulatory care computer systems in office practice: a tutorial. Proc AMIA.
1982; 195–201.
318. Tierney WM, McDonald CJ, Martin DK, Hui SL. Computerized display of past test results:
effect on outpatient testing. Ann Intern Med. 1987;107:569–74.
319. Tolchin SG, Blum BI, Butterfield MA. A systems analysis methodology for a decentralized
health care information system. Proc SCAMC. 1980; 1479–84.
320. Tolchin SG, Stewart RL, Kahn SA, Bergan ES, Gafke GP, Simborg DW, et al. A prototype
generalized network technology for hospitals. J Med Syst. 1982;6:359–75.
321. Tolchin SG, Stewart RL, Kahn SA, Bergan ES, Gafke GP, Simborg DW, et al. Implementation
of a prototype generalized network technology for hospitals. Proc SCAMC. 1981; 942–8.
322. Tolchin SG, Arseniev M, Barta WL, Kuzmak PM, Bergan E, Nordquist R, et al. Integrating
heterogeneous systems using local network technologies and remote procedure call proto-
cols. Proc SCAMC. 1985; 748–9.
323. Tuck D, O’Connell R, Gershkovich P, Cowan J. An approach to object-relational mapping in
bioscience domains. Proc AMIA. 2002; 820–4.
324. Tufo HM, Speidel JJ. Problems with medical records. Med Care. 1971;9:509–17.
325. Tufo HM, Bouchard RE, Rubin AS, Twitchell JC, VanBuren HC, Weed LB, et al. Problem-
oriented approach to practice: I. Economic impact. JAMA. 1977;238:414–7.
326. Vallbona C, Spencer WA. Texas Institute for Research and Rehabilitation Hospital Computer
System (Houston). In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley;
1974. p. 662–700.
327. Vallbona C, Brohn J, Albin J. Pilot test and preliminary evaluation of an optical card medical
record system. Proc MEDINFO. 1989; 809–12.
328. Van Brunt E. Selected observations on ambulatory care: office practice. Proc AMIA. 1982;
202–5.
329. Van Brunt E, Davis LS, Terdiman JF, Singer S, Besag E, Collen MF. Current status of a medi-
cal information system. Methods Inf Med. 1970;9:149–60.
330. VanName ML, Catchings B. SQL-a database language sequel to Dbase. Byte. 1989;14:175.
331. Vickery DM. Computer support of paramedical personnel: the question of quality control.
Proc MEDINFO. 1974; 281–7.
332. Walters RF. File structures for database management systems. MD Comput. 1987;5:30–41.
333. Walters RF. Microprocessors as intelligent front-end devices for medical information sys-
tems. Med Inform (Lond). 1979;44:139–50.
334. Ware WH. Old practices in a new age endanger information privacy. Hosp JAHA.
1977;51:133–9.
335. Ware WH. Records, computers and the rights of citizens. Report of the Secretary’s Advisory
Committee on Automated Personal Data. Washington, DC: US Govt Print Office; 1973.
336. Warner H, Morgan J, Pryor T, Clark S, Miller W. HELP–a self-improving system for medical
decision-making. Proc MEDINFO. 1974; 989–93.
337. Warner HR. Data sources. In: Computer-assisted decision making. New York: Academic;
1979. p. 6–101.
338. Warner HR. History of medical informatics at Utah. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA, editors. A his-
tory of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 357–69.
339. Warner HR. Computer-based patient monitoring. In: Stacy RW, Waxman B, editors.
Computers in biomedical research, vol. III. New York: Academic; 1972. p. 239–51.
340. Wasserman AI. Minicomputers may maximize data processing. Hosp JAHA.
1977;51:119–28.
341. Wasserman AI, Stinson SK. A specification method for interactive medical information sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1471–8.
342. Wasserman AI, Pircher PA, Shewmake DT, Kersten ML. Developing interactive information
systems with the user software methodology. IEEE Trans Softw Eng. SE-12(2):326–45.
343. Watson JD, Crick FHC. Molecular structure of nucleic acids. Nature. 1953;171:737–8.
288 M.F. Collen et al.
344. Watson RJ. Medical staff response to a medical information system with direct physician-
computer interface. Proc MEDINFO. 1974;74:299–302.
345. Waxman BD. Biomedical computing 1965. Ann NY Acad Sci. 1966;128:723–30.
346. Weiland AJ. The challenges of genetic advances. Healthplan. 2000;41:24–30.
347. Weinstein M. Securing and safeguarding paperless records. Am Coll Phys Obs. 1988 (July/
August); 17.
348. Weinstein M. Economic evaluation of medical procedures and technologies: progress, prob-
lems and prospects. In: Wagner J, ed. Medical technology. DHEW Pub No (PHS) 79-3254.
NCHSR Research Proc Series. 1979; 52–68.
349. Wess Jr BP. Distributed computer networks in support of complex group practices. Proc
SCAMC. 1978; 469–77.
350. Westberg EE, Miller RA. The basis for using the internet to support the information needs of
primary care. JAMIA. 1999;6:6–25.
351. Westin AF. New developments and problems in health care confidentiality. Proc SCAMC.
1979; 380–1.
352. Westin AF. A policy analysis of citizen rights: issues in health data systems. National Bureau
of Standards Special Pub 467. Washington, DC: US Govt Print Office; 1977.
353. Westin AF. Computers, health records, and citizen rights. National Bureau of Standards
Monograph 157. Washington, DC: US Govt Print Office; 1976.
354. Westin AF. Legal safeguards to insure privacy in a computer society. Commun ACM.
1967;10:533–7.
355. Westin AF, Baker MA. Databanks in a free society: computers, record keeping and privacy.
New York: Quadrangel Books; 1972.
356. Whiting-O’Keefe QE, Simborg DW, Epstein WV. A controlled experiment to evaluate the
use of a time-oriented summary medical record. Med Care. 1980;18:842–52.
357. Whiting-O’Keefe QE, Simborg DW, Epstein WV, Warger A. A computerized summary medi-
cal record system can provide more information than the standard medical record. JAMA.
1985;254:1185–92.
358. Wiederhold G. Databases, a tutorial. Proc AAMSI. 1984; 423–30.
359. Wiederhold G. Modeling databases. Inf Sci. 1983;29:115–26.
360. Wiederhold G. Databases for ambulatory care. Proc AMIA. 1982; 79–85.
361. Wiederhold G. Summary of visit to the Research Center, Rockland Psychiatric Center,
Orangeburg, NY, on January 9, 1974. CDR-4 HRA Contract. 1975.
362. Wiederhold G, Walker MG, Blum RL. Acquisition of medical knowledge from medical
records. Proc Benutzer-gruppenseminar Med Syst. 1987; 213–4.
363. Wiederhold G. Database technology in health care. J Med Syst. 1981;5:175–96.
364. Willard KE, Hallgren JH, Sielaff B, Connelly D. The deployment of a World Wide Web (W3)
based medical information system. Proc AMIA. 1995;771–5.
365. Wilson GA, McDonald CJ, McCabe GP. The effect of immediate access to a computerized
medical record on physician test ordering: a controlled clinical trial in the emergency room.
Am J Public Health. 1982;72:698–702.
366. Wilson JF. Making electronic health records meaningful. Ann Intern Med. 2009;151:293–6.
367. Winters S, Hurt S, Turney SZ. Levels of security in a critical care hospital data system. Proc
SCAMC. 1984; 517–23.
368. Yu H, Hripcsak G. A large scale, cross-disease family health history data set. Proc AMIA.
2000; 1162.
369. Zeichner ML, Brusil PJ, Tolchin SG. Distributed processing architecture for a hospital infor-
mation system. Proc SCAMC. 1979; 859–65.
370. Zimmerman J. Towards generalized automated ambulatory care record systems. Proc
MEDINFO. 1977;77:473–7.
371. Zinn TK, DiGiulio LW. Actualizing system benefits – part II. Comput Healthc.
1988;9:38–40.
372. Zoltan-Ford E. Professional persons’ attitudes toward computers: comparative analyses and
some suggestions. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 536–9.
Chapter 5
Outpatient Information Systems (OISs)
for Ambulatory Care
Author Collen was deceased at the time of publication. Slack and Bleich edited this chapter on his
behalf after his death.
M.F. Collen (deceased)
W.V. Slack, M.D. (*) • H.L. Bleich, M.D.
Harvard Medical School, Division of Clinical Informatics, Department of Medicine, Beth
Israel Deaconess Medical Center, Brookline, MA, USA
e-mail: [email protected]; [email protected]
The care of most ambulatory patients is provided in the home as self-care by the
patient, with the help of the family and personal caregivers. The professional care
for ambulatory outpatients in the United States is usually provided outside of the
hospital, in the offices of physicians in solo practice or in groups of health profes-
sionals in medical centers, or in clinics of the outpatient departments associated
with large hospitals.
In 1974 Henley and Wiederhold [81] asked users of 17 OISs why they had installed
their systems, and they found the main objective for the most part to be to improve
the quality of their patients’ care. These users expected to accomplish this objective
by using their OISs to improve patient care management, to increase patient adher-
ence with physicians’ orders, to improve the continuity of care, to permit the imple-
mentation of quality-of-care procedures using the patient’s record as the source of
information, and to facilitate the collection of data for subsequent research. Other
important objectives were to: improve patient record availability, to improve cost
management by utilization-review, to provide faster and more accurate processing
of patients’ billings and insurance claims, and to reduce operating costs by increas-
ing the productivity of personnel.
Functional requirements of an OIS for the care of ambulatory patients are gener-
ally similar to those of a hospital information system for the care of hospitalized
patients. Hospitalized patients, however, are usually sicker and receive more inten-
sive treatment than do ambulatory patients. Although a smaller volume of patient
data is generally entered into the patient’s record during an office visit than during
a hospital stay, the accumulated collection of data from many office visits over a
long time period can produce a voluminous patient record. O’Desky and associates
[131] recommended that the functional requirements of an OIS include: an inte-
grated electronic database providing patients’ medical records and meeting patients’
care needs. It should also have provisions to satisfy business, accounting, office
administration and management needs; and it should support administrative and
clinical decision making. Blum [14] noted that OISs could be less expensive and
require fewer sub-systems than hospital information systems, but that both needed
to satisfy similar requirements, including: accurate patient identification data;
administrative and business requirements, such as billing and third-party claims
submissions; comprehensive patient records; patient scheduling and tracking func-
tions; provision for utilization review and quality assurance; natural language word
processing for forms and correspondence; protection and security of access to the
computing system and information within it; and backup capabilities to protect the
data if any component of the system failed. For a large medical group or clinic, the
OIS needed to be interfaced to information subsystems operating in the clinical
specialty services. It should also be interfaced to computer subsystems in the clinical
laboratories, radiology department, and pharmacy; and when possible, the OIS
should be interfaced as well as to the information system of an affiliated hospital.
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 291
Blum also deemed it important for the OIS to fulfill requirements for decision
support and continuing medical education, and when possible, be capable of linking
to outside databases, such as to those at the National Library of Medicine, and to
affiliated clinical research databases. He summarized the basic functions of the OIS:
to support preparation for a patient’s visit; to record key patient data for the visit; to
update the patient’s medical record; and to use the patient’s record for medical,
administrative, financial, and research applications.
Technical requirements and designs for an OIS are governed by its functional
requirements, whether it was to be built as an in-house development or purchased
from a commercial vendor, and whether it was to be a part of a larger center’s medi-
cal information system or to be a physician’s standalone system. Blois [12]
observed that consideration of the elements underlying the design of the OIS
needed to take into account the physicians’ personal medical knowledge and expe-
rience. And he observed that the hardware, software, and communications technol-
ogy for an OIS have first to be specified, then either developed or purchased, and
finally installed and operated in a manner capable of satisfying the functional
requirements of its users.
There are difficulties in achieving these goals, however. When differences in
technical designs and data standards for OISs evolve to meet different institutional
requirements, problems of interoperability arise between the OISs and hospital
information systems of different vendors. Technical requirements and designs of
OISs vary from institution to institution. Although patients’ records are usually
chronologically arranged so all data entries begin with the date and time, followed
by the patient’s clinical information, structural organization can vary widely; an
OIS that works in one medical group may be inoperable in another.
Feinstein [49] suggested the arrangement of medical records being one of cata-
logs of data with the arrangement of information based on the source, such as the
clinician or laboratory, and the chronology of the information. Thus each transac-
tion in a patient’s care would be entered into the record with the name of the source
or service, the date and time the service was ordered, and the date and time it was
performed, all with a description of the service and the results. Such a time-oriented
record often used flow charts that organized multiple data items into a graphic or
tabular, time-oriented format, such as for temperature, medication records, labora-
tory test results, and other serially collected information. Early examples of such
source and time oriented OISs were those developed by Fries [58, 59], as well as by
Wiederhold [188] whose Time-Oriented Database contained clinical information
organized chronologically and generally collected in the form of time-oriented flow
sheets.
The Problem Oriented Medical Record was developed in the 1960s by Weed
[182–185] who listed rules for recording data in the patient’s medical record: a
numbered list of problems that included every problem in the patient’s past and
present history and that served as an updated table of contents for the record; a plan
for the diagnostic and therapeutic orders for each of the problems, numbered
accordingly, with progress notes and procedure reports preceded by the number and
title of each problem; and graphs, tables and flow sheets kept on all problems when
the data and time relationships are complex.
292 M.F. Collen et al.
With Weed’s approach, each numbered problem would be associated with prog-
ress notes organized in four parts: (S) subjective, (O) objective, (A) assessment, and
(P) plan (often referred to as: S-O-A-P notes). Weed advocated that data involving
physical findings, vital signs, laboratory test values, and medications could best lead
to sound interpretations and decisions if they were organized by problems, with
flow sheets to reflect temporal relations. A numbered list of both active and inactive
problems would serve as the index to the patient’s record and the progress of medi-
cal care.
With Weed’s computing system, clinicians used structured formats with display
terminals for some information entry. However, progress notes, consultation reports,
and operative and other special procedure reports were usually dictated to transcrip-
tionists; with the advent of word processing programs, such reports were then
entered by the transcriptionists into the computer-based patients’ records.
central appointment service was accessed by telephone, and used a pool of 31 video
display terminals all located in one large room. The terminals were connected to an
IBM 370/145 computer that serviced the entire Lahey Clinic data system. The sys-
tem stored all physician appointment schedules, recorded all patient appointments,
sent out reminder notices to scheduled patients, provided daily appointment lists to
clinic receptionists, and reported appointment and utilization statistics to the clinic
management [136]. Furthermore, associates at the Lahey Clinic tested the use a self-
administered patient history questionnaire to improve the routing of new patients to
appropriate specialists in the group. Using a statistical method, the questions to
which the patient answered “yes” were assigned a predictive value as to which spe-
cialist the patient should be referred. When implemented, they found this schedul-
ing tool more effective than their prior method of scheduling patients in accordance
with each patient’s request.
In 1974 the Kaiser Permanente medical care program in its Northern California
region initiated a computer-based patient appointment system that maintained
appointment schedules for each physician, nurse practitioner, and procedure room.
It provided a weekly work pattern for each physician and adjusted for designated
types and lengths of the appointments. In 1977 a central database with identification
data for 1.3 million patients was implemented for the scheduling of office appoint-
ments for one Kaiser medical center, with a network of display terminals connected
to an IBM computer center [31]. By the mid-1980s this patient appointment, regis-
tration, and reporting system had grown to serve Kaiser’s health plan membership
of almost 2 million people, who made close to 8 million office visits per year to
2,000 physicians in 20 outpatient medical centers [103].
By the mid-1970s the majority of the 17 OIS sites described in the study by
Henley and Wiederhold [81] provided patient identification during office visit regis-
tration; 14 of 17 collected utilization statistics for planning and budgeting; and 6 had
interactive scheduling systems for patient appointments. Complex scheduling algo-
rithms were also available for scheduling on holidays as well as for different special-
ists, and for mixed appointment and walk-in clinics. This reduced the long waiting
times for unscheduled patients who came during peak-load periods. Another exam-
ple of a flexible clinic appointment system was that employed by Duke’s The
Medical Record (TMR) system, which supported a multi-specialty group practice.
The TMR system included algorithms to simplify the making of an appointment
with a given clinic and provider at a given time. The TMR system also provided user-
specific modules to permit scheduling for specialized settings. For example, their
RENAL program had a module to assist in the scheduling of dialysis patients [72].
In another setting, Blum and associates at the Johns Hopkins clinics used their
TEDIUM program, operated with a microcomputer, to give providers and clinics
sets of tables to use for their availability schedules.
Roach [135] reviewed ten of the more sophisticated computer-based, patient
appointment scheduling systems available in the mid-1980s. Most allowed for
variable-length appointment slots, restricted slots for specified appointment types,
sequences for controlled overbooking, controlled scheduling (for holiday, post-
holiday, and long-range scheduling), block scheduling of multiple patients into a
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 295
Accurate patient identification is an essential requirement for every health care pro-
gram and computer-based system. Even though this can be difficult – particularly in
years gone by when computer technology limited users to alphanumeric data for
names, codes, gender, and birthdates, and the technology could not process textual
information – it is necessary to register each patient in the computing system cor-
rectly and in sufficient detail such that every subsequent encounter with the infor-
mation system will be performed with the intended patient of record. Even when the
patient’s identifying information arrives from different sources, it must be accurate
and safe within the patient’s electronic registry. All medical information systems
and their subsystems must accurately identify each patient and accurately link all
records and other relevant information collected for that patient. Accordingly, each
OIS that collected specimens from a patient, or generated products from proce-
dures, such as electrocardiogram and pathology reports, had to identify each report
or specimen. The OIS had then to link accurately all of the data that resulted from
the patient’s tests and procedures and store this information in the designated
patient’s computer-based record [35].
Identification (ID) numbers are generally assigned to patients upon their first
outpatient visit or hospital admission. Each ID number is unique; and with the addi-
tion of the patient’s name, gender, and birthdate these data usually provide the accu-
rate identification of a patient. With well working medical information systems, all
data collected on a patient during an outpatient visit or a hospitalization are linked
by the patient’s ID number; and the same ID number is used on subsequent outpa-
tient visits and hospital admissions. Thus current test and procedure results can be
compared to prior results. Subsystems within a medical information system in the
hospital or its associated clinics usually use the same patient ID number that had
been assigned to the patient on the first visit for care; and the ID number is then
recorded on each requisition for clinical services. Although patient visits to outpa-
tient clinics and medical offices not affiliated with the patient’s hospital sometimes
used the referred patient’s hospital ID number, the outpatient clinics often assigned
their own accession numbers for their procedures provided to the patient; this could
create problems with misidentification.
The first items of patient data usually entered into a patient’s electronic medical
record are the patient’s name, and a numerical code – the medical record number –
which is distinct from the patient’s ID number, and which uniquely represents the
record of the individual patient. It was soon found, however, that there could be a
high error rate in computer-stored patient identification data. Names were often
296 M.F. Collen et al.
number was not always uniquely assigned. Duplicate Social Security Numbers have
been issued [104].
Once an identification (ID) number was assigned to a patient, that ID number
should never be assigned to another person. However, mistakes do happen, and to
protect against two patients having the same ID number and thereby to protect the
privacy and accuracy of medical information, most health care programs assign
their own patient medical record numbers in addition to their patients’ ID numbers.
After a medical record number had been assigned to a patient, this number would be
the first information entered into the computer terminal when a patient’s electronic
record was to be retrieved. Such an entry then would result in the system displaying
the full identification data for the patient. This would enable the registering clerk to
verify that the medical record number did in truth represent the person.
To minimize errors, such as wrong or transposed digits in entering medical
record numbers, mathematical strategies were developed. Lindberg at the University
of Missouri-Columbia [97, 98] added a seventh-place check digit to each patient’s
unique ID number, which he also used to help detect and prevent transcription
errors. The check digit was calculated by the computer from the preceding 6 digits
of each patient’s number using the modulus 11 method; the computer system would
accept data only if the patient’s ID number, including the check digit was correct.
Other efforts to decrease errors in patient identification used algorithms to pro-
vide the system user with a probability estimate of a match between the informa-
tion provided by the patient and the records contained in the patient’s file [1]. A
master patient record index was typically used by hospital medical record depart-
ments to locate a patient’s medical record and to determine whether a new medical
record number should be assigned to a patient admitted to the system, or whether
there were prior admissions, for example, that the patient had neglected to mention.
With the advent of electronic medical information systems, the development of
increasing numbers of patient identification systems would improve the efficiency
and accuracy of linking patient’s data for multiple visits to a single patient’s medi-
cal record. Stewart [161] proposed such a computer-based system to provide a
convenient means of linking all patient-related data and thereby decreasing the
time required to enter, correct, and update accurate patient identification
information.
The patient’s medical history, as recorded in the patient’s record, is the primary
documentation of information obtained directly from the patient, or from the
patient’s family or other knowledgeable persons. The medical history usually
includes the description of the patient’s current medical problems or chief com-
plaints, with detailed supporting data on the present and past history of these prob-
lems. The medical history also includes a review of systems to elicit past and present
symptoms of all body systems, from head to toe. The medical history is usually
298 M.F. Collen et al.
divided into categories that list both body systems (head, chest, abdomen, pelvis,
and extremities) and organ systems (brain, heart, lungs, liver, and others), as well as
family, social, occupational, and environmental histories.
In their effort to standardize the medical history, Wakefield and Yarnall [177]
divided the history into the problem history, which included all the patient’s current
medical problems; and the database history, which included the rest of the patient’s
history. (As noted above, Weed based his entire patient record, including the medi-
cal history, on the problem-oriented approach.) The problem history would be the
more difficult to standardize, and most physicians have continued to evolve their
own history-taking style. The database history is more routine and repetitive and
more suitable to standardization, programming and automation.
The collection of information by the direct interviewing of a patient is an essen-
tial process as the physician begins to formulate the patient’s diagnosis. Accordingly,
a large proportion of a physician’s time during an office visit (particularly with a
new patient) is occupied with acquiring a good medical history. For most office
patients, an experienced physician asking appropriate probing questions, will know
within a few minutes, and with a high probability of being correct, what is medically
wrong with the patient; and the rest of the visit will be used to confirm the prelimi-
nary diagnosis and to “rule out” other possible conditions. Still, accumulating the
history can be time-consuming, and the medical history is often incomplete due to
time limitations beyond the physician’s control.
Through the years, a variety of methods have been developed to collect reliable
information for clinical decision-making and to save time. Some physicians
employed nurses, physician assistants, or other allied health professionals to take
patients’ medical histories; and some used paper-based questionnaires that permit-
ted the patient to self-administer the initial history. Physicians continually sought to
develop alternative technologies to interrogate the patient by some method other
than by a human interviewer; but the goal of providing an acceptable and effective
alternative has proven difficult. Paper-and-pencil self-administered questionnaires
have been used extensively in office practice in the effort to save physician’s time
and to provide data for subsequent entry into the patient’s record. They are usually
a composite of closed questions in which the patient responds either with a number
(for example, when asked for age) or with a choice of alternative responses; for
example, “yes” or “no,” “true” or “false,” “I don’t understand,” or with a choice of
other, multiple responses. If the technology and human factors permit asking
branching multilevel questions, then after a first question is answered, second-level
questions can be used to obtain more detail; and a third-level and even fourth-level
of questions can follow to simulate more closely a human interviewer. Open narra-
tive or free-answer questions for which the patients record their responses in their
own words are more subjective and less readily standardized.
In the 1950s, paper-based patients’ records were the most common method used
by physicians in their offices to enter and store data from their ambulatory patient’s
history and physical examination; and then to enter data from follow-up visits and
to record progress reports. The data were entered mostly in textual form by hand on
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 299
histories, with the “yes” responses being entered into the computer by clerks using
keyboard terminals.
Since these questionnaires were more reliable for what Wakefield and Yarnall
[177] called the database history than for the collection of information about
patients’ medical problems, these self-administered histories were used only for
health checkups in the multiphasic and health appraisal programs. In the 1960s,
using the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI) as a model, Kaiser
Permanente had developed its own Neuromental Questionnaire (NMQ) that con-
sisted of 155 psychological questions to which the patient responded by sorting the
prepunched cards into sections of a letter box labeled “true” or “false”. These psy-
chological questionnaire responses were used later for epidemiological and clinical
studies [55]. Ausman [2] also used portable punch cards for the input of a variety of
data including the patient’s temperature, pulse, and respiration, as well as the results
of clinical laboratory tests.
In 1958 Rockhart and McLean [137] at the Lahey Clinic studied self-adminis-
tered histories that were mailed to patients. In 1971 they tested their first Automated
Medical History Questionnaire. The patients’ responses to this paper-and-pencil
questionnaire were keypunched and then batch processed by computer, with a print-
out of questions and answers filed in the patient’s chart. The questionnaires were
mailed to patients in advance of their clinic visit so the results could be used to aid
in the scheduling of patients with appropriate specialists and the printout of
responses could be available at the time of the patient’s visit [122]. Rockart reported
that in general, the patients’ acceptance was good; and that physicians’ acceptance
of the questionnaire was positive. After processing more than 40,000 patient history
questionnaires, the authors found increasing physician acceptance with use of the
questionnaire [138]. However in 1975 the Lahey Clinic discontinued the regular use
of the questionnaire because some physicians found it to be inadequate for their
needs [121].
Slack [139, 148], at the University of Wisconsin and later at the Harvard Medical
School, is generally credited with the most substantive early contributions to patient-
computer dialog. Slack’s first patient history program, which he used in early 1965,
contained 450 screening questions. Each question had four possible responses:
“Yes”, “No”, “Don’t know”, and “Don’t understand.” The questions were presented
by a modified version of the method used by Kaiser Permanente in that each ques-
tion was printed on a punched data-processing card. After the patient had sorted
Slack’s cards by placing each card into an appropriate slot of a divided tray, the
sorted cards were fed into an automatic punched card reader that transmitted the
responses to a computer, which then generated a summary printout of the patient’s
responses.
Slack [148] soon abandoned the use of questionnaire cards; and in 1965, he and
his colleagues used a digital computer with a display terminal and teletype printer
to obtain patients’ medical histories, directly online [151]. He used a LINC
(Laboratory Instrument Computer), which he borrowed from a research laboratory
at the University of Wisconsin. The patient faced the computer screen, which dis-
played questions asking the patient to respond by pressing one of four numbered
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 301
keys on the keyboard corresponding to the same four choices that Slack had used for
the card-sort questions. If the patient pressed the “no” key, the computer proceeded
to the next question. A “yes” response, such as to a positive symptom, initiated
branching to a second-level questionnaire that requested more detail about the fre-
quency, duration, and intensity of the symptom. Subsequent branching was a func-
tion of responses to both the current question and to any related prior questions.
Slack also employed open-ended questions, such as “What is your occupation?”
for which the patient typed the response using the full keyboard. Slack concluded
that the computer, with its branching capability, gave the system great flexibility and
permitted more detail and better control in the interview; and branching questions
could be as complex as was necessary to obtain the desired detail of response. In his
first pilot study of 50 ambulatory patients to elicit a history of allergies, the com-
puter printout was superior to the physician-recorded past histories; but was less
detailed when dealing with the present illness of asthma [139]. Slack [150] further
reported that with their computer-based history system, they had taken 160 allergy,
128 gynecologic, and 70 general medical histories; and they concluded that auto-
mated self-administered histories were particularly useful for the collection of rou-
tine health information, though not as good as was the physician for clinical problem
histories.
Slack [155] also used branching sequences to provide patient education when the
interview indicated the patients’ need to learn about their medical problems. He used
the “Don’t understand” response as an indication to branch to educational sequences
to teach the meaning of medical terms. He was initially concerned with how patients
would accept the computer, so he concluded each interview with questions designed
to ascertain the patient’s reaction to the program; and Slack [154] reported that
patients were highly favorable to the use of a computer as a medical history-taker.
Generally the patient-machine rapport was quickly established, and patients ear-
nestly participated in the medical interview. Attendants reported that gynecology
patients routinely indicated a preference for the computer as an asker of questions
dealing with subjects of a personal or private nature. Slack [148, 152] later added
nutritional and psychological counseling to his interviewing programs. Slack’s
allergy history questionnaire was translated into Spanish and demonstrated with a
LINC in Santiago, Chile [146]. By 1969 Slack reported having conducted approxi-
mately 800 computer-based interviews at the University of Wisconsin Hospitals;
and he and his colleagues had conducted clinical trials on histories designed for
patients with a variety of problems, such as bronchogenic carcinoma, epilepsy, and
psychiatric problems, as well as thyroid and gastroenterology disorders [147].
In the 1970s Slack and Slack [153] moved to the Harvard Medical School where
he continued his work with computer-based patient histories, now using a DEC
PDP-9 computer that was programmed similar to its predecessor LINC. Bloom [13]
and others in Slack’s group described a program they called Converse, developed as
a variant of their original MUMPS-based questionnaire program that provided
faster response times for display screens. Converse was a means to work with the
computer, for the most part in English, to construct, edit, and operate computer-
based interviews, and to analyze responses and generate written summaries.
302 M.F. Collen et al.
Converse was based on writing the text for the interview, frame by frame, with the
text of each frame to be displayed when the interview was conducted. In addition to
choices for the “yes,” “no,” “don’t know,” and “don’t understand” responses, Slack
added a fifth choice, “skip it,” to allow a patient the option of not responding to a
question. In 1980 Slack’s group added an interview for headaches [147]. Slack
summarized and published his extensive experience in A History of Computerized
Medical Interviews [147].
In conjunction with subsequent studies of patient-computer dialogue, Mayne and
associates [106, 107] at the Mayo Clinic described an experimental project to obtain
automated self-administered patient histories using an IBM 7040 computer with an
experimental graphics display terminal that projected photographic images stored
on 16-mm color film. The patient responded to displayed questions by using a light
pen to touch response areas arranged over the projected image. The computer then
printed a summary statement for each patient. Mayne asked approximately 300
questions answerable by “yes” or “no”; using branching secondary questions for
“yes” responses to obtain more details about the patient’s symptoms. In a study of
154 Mayo Clinic patients, Mayne reported that patients’ reactions were favorable
and patients’ performance was successful and that physicians’ reactions were gen-
erally favorable. He also reported and that agreement between the automated ques-
tionnaire in comparison with the traditional record was 94 % for the patient’s chief
complaint and 95 % for all symptoms and for past surgery and past illness informa-
tion. Mayne concluded that given the total set of patients’ responses, the perfor-
mance of the automated medical history for data collection was substantially better
than that of physicians.
Also at the Mayo Clinic, Kiely and associates [94] reported their evaluation of
the histories obtained from patients who used a visual display terminal with a light-
pen selector and a television-tube display developed by Lockheed. They used 600
display screens for a patient-entered general history and a physician-entered set of
results of a physical examination and reported that preliminary testing of physician
reaction suggested that internists would be willing to use such a system when it was
fully developed.
However, in 1969 the Mayo Clinic group concluded that the high cost of the
equipment necessary to administer automated questionnaires with individual com-
puter terminals precluded their large-scale use in patient care [109]. Accordingly,
from a stored library of questions, they developed a computer generated, pencil-
and-paper questionnaire, with patient-identification on each patient’s questionnaire.
The patient responded to each question by placing a pencil mark in appropriate
positions for “yes” or “no.” When the forms were passed through an optical mark-
sense scanner, the responses were read into the computer, which would then gener-
ate an appropriate second-level questionnaire for more detailed information; and the
computer could then go on to develop an individual third-level questionnaire.
In a series of evaluations comparing the same history questions given to
patients by the mark-sense paper-and-pencil questionnaire and a card-sort method,
as pioneered by Collen [42], the Mayo group found that patients preferred the
paper-and-pencil format, and concluded that a mark-sense paper-and-pencil ques-
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 303
medical history, patients’ attitudes were favorable, but that physicians’ attitudes
were mixed. The automated histories recorded more items than were found in the
physician-recorded medical records, but there was a high degree of agreement
between the items in the computer’s summary and the physician-recorded summa-
ries [65].
Yarnall and associates [193] reported that in a general medical clinic, an auto-
mated screening history was favorably accepted by 96 % of patients; and time sav-
ing was claimed by physicians in 77 % of the cases. Although false positive
responses were noted, the greatest usefulness of the automated history to physicians
was the recording of negative responses, which helped them to focus on real
problems.
At the end of the 1960s, a group at MIT and Harvard Medical School’s affiliated
Beth Israel Hospital surveyed self-administered medical histories and provided a
bibliography of 180 references on questionnaires used between 1961 and 1969 [27,
163]. They described the automated questionnaire devices of 27 manufacturers and
concluded that there did not yet exist a device that fully satisfied the requirements
for automated medical histories [27, 164].
In the early 1970s there was an increase in commercial interest in automated
patient histories that would meet the needs at the time for the more than 200 auto-
mated multiphasic health testing programs operating in the United States. Among
the first of these commercial systems was that developed by Haessler [68], and
marketed by Searle Medidata, Inc. Although most history takers used CRT display
terminals, Searle’s terminal used a carousel projection system with 320 questions,
each contained on a quadrant of a 35-mm slide. The top half of the displayed screen
was occupied by the question; and from two to five response choices were displayed
next to five buttons along the right-hand margin of the screen. The display terminal
was connected to a computer, programmed to permit branching to any of the ques-
tions depending on the patient’s responses. The patient’s responses were stored in
the computer, which generated the history report when the interview was com-
pleted. The advantage with this terminal was that it could project questions and
graphics in color; the disadvantage was that only the vendor could change a ques-
tion by remaking the slide. Also, the system was expensive for its time. After three
revisions and experience with 7,000 patients per month, Haessler [69] reported that
although most patients felt comfortable with the system, physicians’ attitudes were
reserved. A trial with the program at Kaiser Permanente had resulted in similar find-
ings, and with time, Searle abandoned this technological approach to automated
histories.
With the objective of better integrating the automated medical history into their
medical information system, Brunjes [25] at Yale University classified patient’s
symptoms in a three-dimensional matrix based on body systems and functions,
abnormal symptoms, and physical signs together with the source of the information,
such as from the patient, physician, or laboratory.
Goldstein [62] at NIH attempted to facilitate the entry of the patient history by
physicians by providing them with lists of numbered phrases. The first-level list
contained 25 organ systems, and the physician selected the organ system appropri-
ate to the patient’s problem. The program then presented a corresponding second-
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 305
processed almost 3,000 patients’ histories; doctors using them reported substantial
time savings [100].
By 1973 approximately 7,000 histories had been processed by the Duke approach,
which included a number of subspecialty histories [78]. Among these was a psy-
chiatry screening questionnaire for a general medical clinic, used to elicit degrees of
anxiety, depression, and alcoholism, and a neurological questionnaire, first used in
1970 [78]. Duke’s headache questionnaire contained 173 questions; only about one-
third of which were presented to any given patient, depending on the type of head-
ache and the complexity of the patient’s problems. Each question presented to the
patient was selected by the computer program on the basis of the answers to the
preceding questions [160]. The Duke group also evaluated the use of an audio sys-
tem, with prerecorded questions presented on a magnetic audio cassette tape. The
patient would listen to the spoken questions and then respond on a keyboard with
“yes,” “no,” “don’t understand,” or “repeat.” The group concluded that the audio
mode of automated history taking was the more effective approach when the patient
population was of borderline literacy [76].
Warner [180] used a self-administered questionnaire for patients in his multipha-
sic screening program in Salt Lake City. Questions were presented to the patients on
a terminal displaying a one-digit number preceding each question. The patients used
a numerical keyboard to enter the numbers corresponding to the questions to which
their answer was “yes.” Warner used a list of 320 questions, of which at least 50 had
to be answered. Warner’s group used a sequential Bayesian approach to direct the
course of the computer-based history and to arrive at a list of likely diagnoses based
on the patient’s responses to the questions. The patient would be presented with a
sequence of questions until the Bayesian program indicated that the probability of
the patient having a particular diagnosis exceeded 90 %. This diagnosis would then
be suggested on the history printout, accompanied with a list of the questions to
which the patient had answered “yes.”
Williams [190] at the University of Illinois, Urbana, also approached medical
history taking by considering the likely diseases, and focusing on those questions
necessary to elicit a diagnostic set of symptoms. They observed that the develop-
ment of such logic occasionally flowed in the reverse direction, an approach they
called retrograde mapping.
By the mid-1970s considerable experience had been accumulated regarding self-
administered patient questionnaires using a variety of technologies. In 1975 McLean
and associates [120] published an extensive bibliography of manual, automated, and
computer-processed medical histories that contained 720 citations from the world
literature. Also in 1975, Wakefield and Yarnall [177] published an extensive compi-
lation of self-administrated medical history questionnaires that included 17 differ-
ent design approaches and 105 examples. They described 24 paper-and-pencil
questionnaires that were put directly into the medical record without processing; 3
questionnaires that were manually processed by some form of manual review; 5
machine-processed questionnaires using an off-line programmed electric typewriter;
18 off-line computer-processed punched cards or mark-sense forms; 4 online com-
puter-processed questionnaires using teletypewriters; 10 computer-based systems
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 307
using images stored on film strips, carousel slides, or microfiche; 1 audio system for
patients to listen to the questions; and 21 cathode ray tube terminal systems for
computer-based, interactive branching questionnaires.
The continuing difficulties in obtaining automated patient histories and their
associated high costs produced a few evaluations on the comparative cost-
effectiveness of the alternative technologies available. The medical history takers
were evaluated as to the usefulness of the history questions and the acceptability and
costs of the history taker. The reliability or reproducibility of a question was mea-
sured by the consistency with which it elicited the same response. Collen and asso-
ciates [41] studied patients’ responses to a set of 204 questions presented on a
printed form in comparison with the same questions individually presented on pre-
punched cards, so that each patient answered each question twice. They found that
patients answered “yes” to the same 7 % of questions by either method; 20 %
changed an answer from “yes” to “no” on the second or retest questionnaire, but less
than 2 % of questions were changed from “no” to “yes.” Neither the method of
questioning, nor the order in which the questions were asked, significantly changed
the answers. It was evident that, when a patient said “no” to a question, the response
was a reliable one; but a “yes” response was more changeable, possibly indicating
more uncertainty on the part of the patient and suggesting that “yes” responses
needed more detailed secondary branching questions to obtain reliable
information.
The validity of answers to history questions was studied by Hershberg and asso-
ciates [82] using 20 screening, first-level questions from the medical history ques-
tionnaire used at the Lahey Clinic. They measured the sensitivity of each question
answered “yes” by patients who had the disease associated with the symptom
addressed by the question, as well as the specificity of the question for obtaining a
“no” response by patients without the disease. Depending on the criteria applied,
they found great variability in the validity of the history questions. They concluded
that because of their extremely low sensitivity and specificity values, certain ques-
tions appeared to have only limited usefulness in screening for disease states. This
study confirmed the need for second- and third-level branching of questions to
obtain more valid responses from patients.
An extensive evaluation of the cost-effectiveness of automated medical history
taking in ten office practices with a variety of practice types and specialties, was
conducted by Bolt, Beranek and Newman in their Computer Aids in Physician’s
Offices Project [17]. After patients completed 1,000 automated histories, which
took between 30 and 70 min per history, the group reported that important posi-
tive responses were recorded that were not recorded with the conventional,
physician-taken histories. Close to half of the physicians were able to save from
5 to 15 min in history taking time by using the automated history. However, the
group concluded that physicians would be unwilling to pay for the expensive
terminals.
Although in the 1980s a variety of technologies were available in the effort to
decrease the costs and improve the effectiveness of automated patient histories,
most physicians still used paper-and-pencil questionnaires in their office practice.
308 M.F. Collen et al.
Psychiatrists began to automate interviews for their patients in the 1980s. When
medical transcriptionists began using computer-based word-processing programs
for physician-dictated reports, this permitted direct entry of data into the computer-
based patient record. Direct voice input of limited data sets for some subspecialties,
such as radiology and orthopedics, was also being tested by the end of 1980s.
Developers of OISs were resigned to the reality that systems for physicians to
enter clinical information, such as the results of physical examinations, would likely
remain experimental until more powerful clinical workstations would permit free
text and voice-recognition input. By the late 1980s, however, advances in clinical
workstations offered hope that they might provide a more useful interface for physi-
cians. Barnett’s group at the Massachusetts General Hospital used a Hewlett-
Packard (IBM-compatible) workstation with a mouse pointer for selecting items
from a controlled vocabulary shown on the display, and they used the keyboard for
entering narrative text. An interactive, branching, hierarchical representation of
terms that represented physical findings allowed the physician to move up or down
the vocabulary tree structure, and to construct an appropriate report similar to that
found in the traditional written paper record.
Williams [191] at the University of Illinois, Urbana, used an Apple Macintosh to
expand on his prior work using the PLATO (Programmed Logic for Automated
Teaching Operations) system to display in one window a graphic sketch of the body
area being examined, which the user could modify by copying icons onto the ana-
tomic caricature. From another window in the display, the user could select the
appropriate terms representing observations or interpretations. The graphic screen
and text was stored and could be retrieved, together with findings from previous
examinations.
The hospitalized patient’s history is usually obtained by the physician interview-
ing the patient (or a family member when the patient is incapable of providing a
history). The results are then entered into the patient’s hospital record by the physi-
cian. Whereas ambulatory patients can provide much of their medical history by
responding to a formatted questionnaire, hospitalized patients are usually in bed
when they are interviewed; to have the medical history entered directly into the
computer by a patient in bed is generally not feasible.
Some investigators, however, have tested a method for patients’ self-administered
histories. Weed [183] used self-administered questionnaires with “yes” or “no”
cards that were then entered by a keyboard into the computer. Weed also used a
display terminal that allowed ten choices for the patient in response to each ques-
tion, with the patient responding by touching the desired choice displayed on the
screen. When the patient’s history was completed, a computer printout was pro-
duced showing the patient’s responses by body systems, in a narrative form.
Alternatively, Warner’s group at the LDS Hospital used interviewer-administered
histories, with the interviewer asking the questions and entering the responses into
the computer terminal, as guided by the HELP system, which later guided the physi-
cian through a set of possible diagnoses [79].
In the 1950s, physical examination data were recorded manually health practitio-
ners and listed in the patient’s paper-based record by body systems, often in an
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 309
program, and these entries then became part of the patient’s record. Slack first tested
this program on the gynecology service and reported the reaction to the program by
participating physicians was one of general approval.
Juergens [90] at the Mayo Clinic reported the use of a television-type video dis-
play tube with a light-pen selector for the physician to enter physical examination
findings. The physician selected from displayed message elements by pointing the
light pen to the appropriate item; with the click of the pen switch, the data were
entered into the computer. Physicians could enter free text by using the terminal
keyboard. The authors reported, however, that the structured displays were suffi-
ciently comprehensive so that almost no use was made of the keyboard. They tested
their approach with findings from examination of the heart and found that when
physicians entered their findings with the patient present, it took them almost twice
as long as it did when they wrote out their findings in traditional fashion. On the
other hand, the authors found the positive acceptance of the new technique by both
physicians and patients to be encouraging.
information collected from medical examinations of Air Force pilots at the Lovelace
Clinic. The information included each pilots’ medical history and physical findings,
and reports from specialty examinations, clinical laboratories, and x-ray examina-
tions. Some history and physical findings were also recorded by the medical exam-
iner on pre-coded data-entry sheets, which were then sent with the mark-sensed
cards to an IBM facility for processing and storing in their database. After the Man
in Space program was taken over by the National Aeronautics and Space
Administration (NASA), this punched-card and patient record system was contin-
ued for a time for astronaut candidates.
Schenthal [139] and Sweeney at Tulane Medical School developed an OIS that
used a computer to process medical record data for outpatients. They used mark-
sense cards to record information, and a mark-sense card reader to submit the infor-
mation to an IBM 650 computer equipped with magnetic-tape storage. In their pilot
study, their OIS contained information from clinic patients stored on magnetic tape.
The database consisted of coded diagnoses, physical findings, sigmoidoscopy
reports, clinical laboratory test results, and chest x-ray reports as well as medical
histories derived from the 195 questions of the Cornell Medical Index. In their first
12 months of operation, their system held the medical records of patients in the
Tulane University Cancer Detection Clinic. Schenthal [141] then used the computer
to search the stored records of 361 women seen during the prior 12 months for
reports of significant cardiac murmurs. He thereby demonstrated the ability of their
system to locate rapidly, from a large collection of patients’ records, a group of
patients meeting a desired combination of requirements. The time required for the
investigation of clinical records could thereby be reduced from man-months to
machine-minutes.
By 1963 the Tulane group had stored on magnetic tape more than 2,000 active
outpatient records in 8 clinical specialties [141]. They used checklists for collecting
data from each specialty clinic, and keypunch operators entered English-language
text for comments not included in the checklists [194]. The group soon modified
their database design from the original fixed-field, fixed-length, records on mag-
netic tape to variable-field, variable-length records more suited the storage of natu-
ral language text. Sweeney also developed a program, GYPSY, for the storage,
retrieval, and analysis of data in patients’ records. Sweeney was the first Professor
of Computer Medicine in the United States, and one of his principal contributions
was to introduce physicians to the direct use of computers in ambulatory patient
care.
In 1971 the Computer-Stored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) system was devel-
oped by Barnett and associates as the OIS for the Harvard Community Health Plan
(HCHP), a comprehensive group-practice medical-care program established in
1969 in Boston. The COSTAR system used the Massachusetts General Hospital
Utility Multi-Programming System (MUMPS) language and operating system.
Barnett [4] described COSTAR’s objectives: provide HCHP with a membership
file; improve the availability of patient care information in accessibility, timeliness
of retrieval, legibility, and organization; provide automatic retrieval and display of
selected information; provide information processing for administrative services as
312 M.F. Collen et al.
well as for clinical laboratory, x-ray, and electrocardiogram reports; provide the data
retrieval and analysis required by HCHP management for operations, budgeting,
and planning; support programs in quality assurance; provide reports required by
government agencies; and conduct a broad range of research projects [4, 5, 63, 66].
Barnett [4] described the COSTAR computer-based patient record as containing
information from each encounter with a patient, including interactions in the health
center, emergency ward, and affiliated hospital – as well as information from tele-
phone communications – all captured by completion of structured encounter forms,
which were the system’s basic data input documents. The COSTAR encounter
forms were manually completed by the health professionals at the time of each
patient visit. On these forms, physicians recorded their diagnoses, their orders for
diagnostic tests and treatments, and their patient’s disposition. Different encounter
forms were designed for each of the medical specialties, as well as for nursing care
and for social services. A form was printed for the patient’s first visit; and individu-
alized forms were computer-generated for subsequent visits. These served also as
progress notes for each visit. For a routine visit to the health center, the patient’s
identifying data were recorded on the encounter form by a clerical person before the
physician saw the patient.
Administrative data were entered by clerks using remote terminals connected by
telephone lines to the computer located in the Laboratory of Computer Science at
the Massachusetts General Hospital. Medical information was entered by the
patients’ physicians on a precoded entry form, with provision for appropriate modi-
fiers and free text. Space was provided for diagnoses and medications that were not
among the precoded options. Data on the forms were than coded by record-room
personnel using a code directory, and then entered into the computer by the key-
board of a visual display terminal. The code directory was a structured list of prob-
lems, medications, and laboratory tests that had been recorded in the COSTAR
system during the previous 7 years.
The encounter forms were structured to meet the specific needs of each of the
Harvard Community Health Plans’ 15 clinical specialties. For example, the pediat-
ric encounter form contained a list of problems and treatments most commonly
encountered in pediatrics. Self-encoding checklists reduced the amount of time for
physicians to record clinical information and reinforced their use of a common
vocabulary. The physician could choose to enter free text and to link each free-text
comment to a particular medical problem, and this enabled the selective retrieval of
all data about the problem. HCHP physicians could also dictate notes, which were
then entered into the computer the following morning. All computer-stored data
were available on demand from a computer terminal display, or by computer-
generated printouts requested through the HCHP medical records department.
For scheduled patient visits, a pre-specified set of computer-generated records
was automatically prepared and distributed to the care area prior to the visit. The
basic data-display format was the status report, which was produced for all sched-
uled visits. The status report was designed to provide an index and summary of the
patient’s current medical status, and it included any prior hospital discharge data,
currently active medications, important previously taken medications, a list of
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 313
laboratory tests with the date and results of the most recent tests, and any outstand-
ing consultations. A status report was also generated after the entry of new informa-
tion to the record. This report also included all active diagnoses, and the current
medications [66].
After a patient visit and completion of the encounter forms, the computer-
generated output was destroyed to avoid the cost of having the medical record
room handling and filing the paper chart. A paper medical record was available on
each patient, but it contained only archival data, electrocardiograms, diagrams of
lesions, communications such as postal letters, the complete text of pathology or
radiology reports, and the original medical history questionnaire that had been
completed by the patient [4]. The printed-paper encounter forms were clipped to
the patient’s medical record binder in chronological order to form a computer-
generated, paper-based patient’s chart. Only the latest patient status report remained
in the patient’s chart.
Barnett [10] recognized the need for a metadatabase defining all terms that were
allowed in patient records. Each element in the directory corresponded to a unique
COSTAR code; and each COSTAR code was assigned to a particular division in the
directory (diagnoses, laboratory tests, and other data). This directory of terms served
as the unifying element that enabled users of COSTAR to identify specific informa-
tion among the structured database.
Barnett located visual display terminals in all patient care areas to provide
access to the full computer-based patient record. Thus, the physicians could review
the status report, encounter reports, laboratory data, and patient visits associated
with any specific problem, and they could obtain a flow chart of any problem, labo-
ratory test, or medication. Physicians reported the selective recording and retrieval
of specific types of data as flow charts to be a valuable supplement to the informa-
tion available on their status report. Flow charts, specific to individual specialties,
were found to be particularly useful for tracking the measurements, immuniza-
tions, and developmental milestones of children, and for tracking the prenatal visits
of obstetrical patients. The computer’s ability to display information in a variety of
formats without redundant entry of data was a distinct advantage over the manual
system [4].
In the 1970s Barnett’s COSTAR system was unique as an operational OIS which
had replaced most of the functions of the traditional, paper-based medical record. In
1973 the Harvard Community Health Plan COSTAR system had been operational
for 2 years, maintaining the medical records for 20,000 patients who had made
80,000 visits [66]. Teletype terminals that permitted interactive order entry were
readily available. Barnett was reluctant to use clerical personnel to enter physician’s
orders, because he did not want physicians to bypass the clinical decision support
capabilities. This decision support included online checking for the completeness,
accuracy, and acceptability of an order as well as for providing physicians with
pertinent information about specific patients. COSTAR’s online, interactive system
could check the physician’s order against data in the computer for drug-drug and
drug-laboratory interactions, as well as for known allergies. Hence Barnett felt it
important for the physicians to perform the order entry [6].
314 M.F. Collen et al.
In 1975 Barnett reported that the COSTAR system had added a quality assurance
program that detected deviations from a set of standards developed by the HCHP
physicians and provided immediate feedback to physicians. In 1976 Barnett [4]
reported that the HCHP employed a staff of 34 (full-time equivalent) physicians and
23 (full-time equivalent) nurses who handled 550 daily office visits from a member-
ship of 37,500 persons.
The COSTAR system at the time operated on a DEC PDP-15 computer located
in the laboratory’s computer center connected by leased telephone cable to the
HCHP facilities. Twenty display terminals and several printers were located at
HCHP for COSTAR’s use. The medical information in COSTAR was available 24
h a day, 7 days a week. COSTAR also provided a patient tracking system to monitor
the continuity of care. If a physician checked the box on the encounter form that was
labeled with “follow-up important,” and if there had not been a visit with this physi-
cian in a specified time period, the computer automatically generated a medical
record printout of the patient’s visits since the date on which that physician requested
the follow-up visit. This prompted the physician to make a decision about the need
for contacting the patient to make an appointment.
By 1978, COSTAR had gone through four revisions in its design at the HCHP,
and Barnett [8] described an expanded version called COSTAR 5. This was devel-
oped in collaboration with industry and with the support of the Intramural Division
of the National Center for Health Services Research. Barnett [9] noted that COSTAR
5 was being implemented at seven different medical sites.
By the early1980s COSTAR in HCHP had added an accounts receivable and bill-
ing module, an expanded patient registration and patient scheduling module, a
report-generator module, a medical query language with increased data-retrieval
capabilities, and an enhanced medical record module, together with data protection
and backup capabilities. COSTAR enabled replacement of the traditional paper-
based medical record, with direct entry of patient data from encounter forms, by
clerks using CRT display terminals. The availability of the patient record in
COSTAR facilitated the preparation of bills, follow-up reminders, and quality-
assurance procedures.
Kuhn [96] reported that in December 1980 in the United States, there were 26
operational COSTAR installations and 11 planned installations. At the Laboratory
of Computer Science, the cost of COSTAR development was estimated at 2–3 mil-
lion dollars, and the development and transfer efforts were estimated to have totaled
10 million dollars. Kuhn also commented on the importance of the federal govern-
ment’s support of activities directed toward the transfer and commercialization of
COSTAR: the National Center for Health Services Research supported the software
design and developmental activities; supported the preparation of technical and user
documentation; sponsored the installation of COSTAR as a demonstration site; and
awarded a contract to the MITRE Corporation to facilitate the transfer of a
COSTAR-5 to a community-based network of five clinics in San Diego County.
Bowie [19] and Fiddleman [52], at the MITRE Corporation, described how
COSTAR had also been supported by Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC). In
1978, when DEC decided not to market COSTAR, the National Center chose the
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 315
operable 24 h a day, 7 days a week; and to have simple and precise input procedures
acceptable for clerks, technicians, nurses, and physicians. For their system to be
economically feasible, they added basic administrative functions.
In the 1970s with the availability of mass storage devices for minicomputers, the
Duke Group recognized that these devices could be used for medical applications
requiring large online databases. They planned to use the modularity of minicom-
puters to enable them to purchase the amount of computing power required, and to
increase that power as the need developed. They considered the minicomputer to be
especially well suited to the medical environment. Furthermore, a distributed net-
work of minicomputers could provide the extensible framework upon which a
responsive and reliable system could be built.
The Duke group’s initial developmental effort began in their obstetrics clinic,
with the goal of working toward the design and implementation of a generalized
online information system utilizing minicomputers. They soon installed a clinical
laboratory system designed to allow for the ordering and reporting of laboratory
data. Data entry methods included both interactive video terminals and batch-
processed mark-sense forms. During its initial development, the GEMISCH system
was also used as a basis for the design of automated, self-administered question-
naires to elicit the patients’ medical histories [101]. In 1974 GEMISCH applications
were operated on a Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) PDP-11 minicomputer
and included a primary care system for their University Health Services Clinic.
By 1974 the system had been used to process more than 15,000 mark-sense
patients’ histories. Interactive questionnaires were also used, with visual display
terminals for recording the histories of patients who had headaches, dizziness, low-
back pain, or angina. By 1974 more than 6,000 obstetric patients’ records had been
processed, and encounter data for more than 1,000 patients per week were being
entered into the system [73].
Confidentiality of patient data was assured by “protect” codes [74]. The Duke
group also developed an information retrieval language that used basic statement
types to enable users to retrieve selected subsets of records, to list specified informa-
tion retrieved from the records, and to produce summary reports [178]. In 1975 they
merged their programs into a higher-level language and an enhanced database man-
agement system, which they continued to call GEMISCH.
Wiederhold and associates [189] visited the Duke University Medical Center and
described the status of the computing at that time. Their computer-based patient
records now included diagnostic and treatment orders, laboratory test results, medi-
cations, and follow-up findings. The system was processing close to 30,000 patient
visits per year in the internal medicine clinic, with some use of the system as well
in the obstetrics clinic. Patients’ data were for the most part recorded on paper
encounter forms. Written text on the forms was entered into the computer by clerks
using display terminal keyboards. Patients’ histories and physical examination data
were recorded on mark-sense forms for entry into the computer. Patient registration
was done online by means of display-terminal and keyboard entry.
In 1975 the computer-stored record was limited to 16,000 characters. It included
patient identification data, medical history and physical examination data, medical
318 M.F. Collen et al.
problems, diagnostic and treatment orders, laboratory test results, medications, and
follow-up findings. Selected additional data for research purposes could also be
stored. When a patient was seen in the clinic, the traditional paper-based medical
record was available, containing the original encounter forms with narrative text
from prior visits, supplemented by computer-generated printouts and summary
reports from prior encounter forms.
The general development of the Duke system was supported in part by grants
from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation and the National Institutes of Health. By
1977 Duke had an enhanced database management system written in the GEMISCH
language, which featured a modular design for the various administrative and clini-
cal applications. Hammond [76] reported that more than 40,000 patients’ records
were maintained in online files, with about 60,000 annual encounters.
In 1980 the Duke group described their further development and experiences
with their computer-based medical record system, which they now called The
Medical Record system (TMR), and which was now operational within three set-
tings: the University Health Services Clinic with an active file of 33,000 patients;
the Woman’s Clinic of the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology with an active
file of 7,000 patients [75]; and the Renal Dialysis Unit of the Durham Veterans
Hospital with an active file of approximately 300 patients.
Duke University’s TMR now used two PDP-11 minicomputers supported by
DEC’s RSX-11D and the UNIX operating systems. GEMISCH continued to be the
name for the database management system, with a hierarchical data structure and a
variable-length text section. GEMISCH records were accessed through an alphanu-
meric identification number or by the patient’s name. TMR contained essential
components of a computer-based, electronic patient record, and human interaction
with TMR could function at an acceptable level [75].
Hammond [75, 76] considered the Duke data dictionary to be a key to the success
of TMR. Their metathesaurus defined and coded all clinical variables. This pro-
vided the necessary flexibility to permit editing and to allow for the differences
between medical specialties and outpatient clinics. It contained a medical vocabu-
lary together with related information, such as algorithms, decision-making rules,
and users’ passwords. TMR was dictionary driven, and the TMR programs were
modularly constructed. The monitor module controlled the program flow. The
demographic module supported the collection of demographic, provider, and insur-
ance data. Another module supported the input and display of patients’ history and
physical examination findings. The problem module supported the entry, deletion,
and modification of patients’ clinical problems as well as a problem-oriented chart
review. The therapy module supported a formulary of prescribed drugs. The studies
module supported the ordering of tests, the entry of test results, and the viewing of
results. The flow module supported time-oriented presentations of patient’s prob-
lems. The encounter module supported the entry of data associated with a patient’s
visit. The accounting module supported financial processes; and the appointment
module supported Duke’s multispecialty appointment system.
When a patient arrived for an appointment, a route sheet for the collection of
data, a pre-visit medical summary, and results from studies of the previous four
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 319
visits were printed [75]. The patient then saw the physician, who recorded data,
orders, and prescriptions on the route sheet. The patient then met with a clerk,
who entered the orders and requisitions, which were then printed out in the appro-
priate laboratories or clinical departments. The clerk also entered the patient’s
problems, procedures, and other data pertaining to the visit. The cost of the visit
was then calculated and displayed, and a copy of the bill could be given to the
patient.
Laboratory results were entered by the laboratory technologists as they became
available. The print module then printed all components of the record, including
various flow sheets and administrative, financial, and medical reports. TMR thus
provided to physicians what Stead called a demand output; it provided physicians
with problem-oriented records, time-oriented flow sheets, protocols, decision-
support algorithms, and information about possible drug-drug interactions, as
requested. By 1980, TMR was interfaced with Duke’s hospital information system
[75]. By 1981, TMR was used in the nephrology clinic in Durham’s Veterans
Administration Medical Center. Physicians there could write supplemental notes
which were then entered into TMR as text [134].
In the 1980s, TMR became commercially available [96]. In 1981 the California
Primary Physicians, a large internal medicine group in Los Angeles, purchased the
system and implemented it with a PDP 11/45 computer from Digital Equipment
Corporation, and they reported that the financial impact exceeded expectations
[166]. Operating costs were reduced in their data processing, transcription, and
laboratory departments due to reduction in dictation and forms processing costs and
to more efficient procedures for reporting diagnostic information to the
physicians.
In 1983 TMR had been implemented in 11 sites [77]. In its use at the Duke medi-
cal center, TMR did not replace the paper-based patient record, but it was used to
produce the encounter notes and record summaries that kept the paper records cur-
rent. Stead [159] called TMR a chartless record, not a paperless record; manual or
word-processed textual narratives were still needed as a supplement to the elec-
tronic record when the physician wanted to describe in detail the reasoning behind
a decision. By the late 1980s the TMR system at Duke contained records of more
than 200,000 patients. TMR provided linkages to referring physicians; it responded
to queries for data elements stored in the TMR database; and it supported inverted
files for clinical research. TMR also provided clinical reminders, protocols, and
decision rules. Stead and Hammond were an extraordinary physician-engineer
team, working together through the 1970s and 1980s to develop a record system to
meet the needs of Duke’s medical center patients.
In 1971 Vallbona initiated an OIS at the Casa de Amigos Neighborhood Health
Clinic in Houston, one of a network of seven neighborhood clinics, all staffed by
physicians on the faculty of Baylor’s Department of Medicine. The OIS was used to
generate a supplement to the traditional paper-based records. Information was
abstracted from each patient’s paper chart by medical clerks. The information was
then coded and entered into Baylor’s computing system by punched cards. A dis-
kette was then produced with the summaries of the patients’ data, which were then
320 M.F. Collen et al.
entered into a minicomputer located in the clinic. The OIS provided a patient iden-
tification and appointment module; it provided a patient information file, which
served as the database for a Health Illness Profile, with a list of each patient’s prob-
lems, medications, health status of body systems, health risks, and prior hospitaliza-
tions; it provided protocols and algorithms to support examinations of patients for
their diagnosis and treatment; and it provided a set of home-care plans for patients
to follow.
By 1974 the clinic minicomputer contained more than 4,200 Health Illness pro-
files, which were retrievable on demand [172]. The Health Illness Profile, which
was inserted at the front of each patient’s paper chart, was considered by the physi-
cians to be the most valuable module in their OIS [174], for it provided a concise
summary of the important medical events in a patient’s past experience with the
clinic [47].
In 1971 Fakan, at the Medical Data Systems Corporation in Olmsted Falls, Ohio,
provided an OIS called AUTOMED for close to 100 physicians in 32 different solo
and group practices. Health professionals recorded data into paper-based medical
records. Clerks then entered the data using keyboard display terminals connected by
telephone lines to a UNIVAC computer. The OIS records contained patient identifi-
cation data, history of present and past illnesses, physical examination data, a medi-
cal problem list, medical orders, and treatment plans. A variety of reports were
printed in the physicians’ offices. In most offices, the traditional paper based record
was maintained, even though the computer-based record was readily accessible at
any time. The OIS also provided business and accounting functions Henley and
Wiederhold [81].
In 1971, Craemer in Brunswick, Maine, introduced an OIS to the U.S. Naval Air
Station Dispensary, a primary care clinic serving close to 15,000 active-duty and
retired Navy personnel and their dependents, with close to 20,000 office visits a
year. Physicians dictated their notes, and the text was entered into the OIS by tran-
scriptionists using display terminal keyboards. Patients’ medical problems and
diagnoses were then coded, and stored by keyboard entry. Laboratory findings were
entered by technologists. Computer services were provided by a commercial vendor
located 100 miles away. The medical record available during a patient’s visit was a
computer-generated abstract that contained a limited amount of medical information.
More medical record information could be obtained within a few seconds from an
online terminal, when it was needed during the visit Henley and Wiederhold [81].
In 1972 the Arizona Health Plan, a prepaid group practice in Phoenix, Arizona,
began to use an OIS for a practice of close to 17,000 patients. Self-funded, this OIS
used paper encounter forms for physicians to record data during the office visits.
Clerks then entered the data into the computer-stored patient record. Patients’ prob-
lem lists, medications, and brief medical summaries were retrievable by computer
terminals and printouts. The OIS was also used as a means of monitoring clinical
performance and utilization practices [61].
In 1972 Haas and Fleishli [67] at the University of Nebraska Medical Center
used a time-sharing hospital mainframe IBM computer to provide an OIS for 17
family clinics throughout the city of Omaha. The clinics were run by different agen-
cies, yet all entered data into a single central online database.
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 321
The Regenstrief system also provided the physician with a surveillance report for
each patient seen, written in a structured English format using the CARE language
[118]. This report provided physicians “reminders” about important clinical condi-
tions [115]. The development of these reminders was engineered by physician-
authored protocols; each protocol defined the clinical condition that would trigger
the reminder [82]. In 1 year, the CARE program generated more than 70,000
reminders for 30,000 patient visits [112]. The CARE program also enabled non-
programmers to perform complex queries of the medical records. Thus the three-
part encounter form helped physicians with their clinical decisions as well as with
their recording and retrieving tasks. McDonald [115] explained that the Regenstrief
system used paper-based reports rather than visual displays as the primary means
for transmitting information to the physician because this mode of data transfer was
inexpensive, portable, and easy to browse. Also, paper reports could be annotated
by hand.
Clerks entered physician-recorded information into the Regenstrief system by
means of computer terminals. In the clinical laboratories, the information was trans-
ferred directly to the Regenstrief system by the laboratory computers. Pharmacy
prescription information was collected from both the hospital and outpatient phar-
macy systems. Essential information from hospital stays, such as diagnoses, was
transferred from hospital case-abstract tapes. Two modules, the database manage-
ment system and the pharmacy system, could be purchased from the Digital
Equipment Corporation [96].
In the early 1980s, the Regenstrief system shared their DEC VAX 11/780 com-
puter with the clinical laboratory and pharmacy systems [117]. By the mid-1980s at
the Regenstrief Institute for Health Care, any patient seen by the General Medicine
Service, in the emergency room, in the outpatient clinics, or in the hospital wards
had been registered with the Regenstrief computer-based medical record system
[116]. Then in 1988, the Regenstrief system was linked to the laboratory, radiology,
and pharmacy systems within the University of Indiana hospitals and the local
Veterans hospital [114]. Thus, Indiana University physicians who rotated their work
in those hospitals could use the same programs to find and analyze clinical data for
patient care. The query programs permitted users, through the CARE program, to
generate clinical care reminders across sets of patients in the Regenstrief medical
record database. The CARE programs also provided a means for statistical analyses
of groups of patients. In 1988 the Regenstrief system contained more than 24 mil-
lion observations on 250,000 patients. In 1 year patient information was captured
for more than 300,000 outpatient visits and for 20,000 hospital admissions.
By the end of the 1990s, the Regenstrief system served a large network of hospi-
tals and clinics [119] and had become a leading OIS model in the United States.
Among McDonald’s outstanding contributions was his focus on the computer’s
capabilities for providing in real time, reminders to physicians about problems in
need of attention as reflected in the outpatient care database. In addition, he evalu-
ated by controlled clinical trials, the effect of these computer reminders on the qual-
ity of care. McDonald’s CARE program contributed to the clinical decision support
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 323
of patient care, just as Warner’s HELP program and Duke’s TMR supported care for
hospitalized patients.
In 1974 the Johns Hopkins Hospital clinics initiated their OIS with a computer-
based patient record, called the Minirecord system [15, 88]. The Minirecord system
was developed with a grant from the Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory to pro-
duce a prototype demonstration of how medical care could benefit from the use of
an information system. The goal was to have a low-cost auxiliary medical record,
with rapid retrieval of computer-generated problem and medication lists, developed
in parallel with the hospital information system [16].
The Minirecord system was designed to support the needs of Johns Hopkins
Hospital’s Hamman-Baker Medical Clinic, which provided long-term care for 7,000
chronically ill patients. Access to the Minirecord would be available by online
visual display terminals in the medical clinic, in the emergency department, and in
selected inpatient units. Once in operation, the Minirecord supplemented the tradi-
tional paper-based record. Encounter forms were used for each patient visit. These
contained places for the physician to record the patient’s chief medical problem,
pending and final diagnoses, medications, procedures, progress notes, and schedule
of upcoming visits. The information on the encounter forms was then keypunched
for entry into the Minirecord.
The Minirecord was merged with the outpatient registration system, which
enabled the encounter forms – with pertinent information from previous visits – to
be printed prior to each patient’s visit, or on demand for unexpected or emergency
visits. Once the OIS was deployed, there were Minirecords for 92 % of the patients’
charts, with substantial improvement in the availability of information about
patients’ problems and therapies administered [16, 89].
Following the implementation of the prototype system on the Applied Physics
Laboratory’s computer, the system was modified to operate on the Johns Hopkins
Hospital central computer. Access to the record system was available to physicians
in the medical clinic, the emergency department, the primary care walk-in clinic, the
orthopedics clinic, the oncology clinic, and selected inpatient units.
In 1981 Johns Hopkins Hospital completed a revised Minirecord, called the Core
Record System. The new system complimented the automated ambulatory medical
record and was available online at strategically located terminals. Data were also
printed as part of the physician’s visit record. The Core Record System, which was
integrated into the existing hospital administrative systems, provided online patient
registration, the processing of charges, a clinic-oriented appointment system, man-
agement reports, and a database for retrospective analyses [110].
In the 1970s an international surge of interest in multiphasic testing systems
spurred some practitioners to use the technology of their OISs to integrate the resul-
tant data into a computer-based patient record. In 1972 Cordle [44], at the University
of North Carolina, described how a clinic made up of a group of general internists
in Charlotte had implemented an OIS for their general practice. Their OIS was
based on pre-coded encounter forms from which an operator keypunched the data
into cards, which were then read into the computer. They also operated an auto-
mated multiphasic testing system, with a self-administered patient history and auto-
324 M.F. Collen et al.
mated test stations that were connected directly to the computer. The computer then
provided online reports, available at the conclusion of the patient’s visit.
Miller and associates [125] at the University of Missouri-Columbia reported a
field demonstration project supported by the Missouri Regional Medical Program,
in which a relatively advanced OIS was installed and operated in a private, rural
physician’s office. By visual display terminals connected by telephone lines to
Lindberg’s central computer at the University of Missouri, Bass, a solo general
practitioner in a distant small town, was able to enter patients’ histories from a self-
administered patient questionnaire. He could also enter physical examination
results, laboratory test results, electrocardiogram interpretations, and x-ray reports.
His OIS could then produce printouts of his patients’ medical records and conduct
statistical analyses of relevance to his practice, using information within electroni-
cally stored records.
In 1972, Brunjes at the Yale University School of Medicine began to operate an
OIS for 15,000 patients of the Community Health Care Center Plan. Data were col-
lected by physicians who made check marks on office visit encounter forms, supple-
mented with a small amount of text. The data were subsequently keypunched onto
cards that were read into the computer. The OIS record contained patient identifica-
tion data, present illness, active medical problems, current medications, physical
examination data, treatment plans and therapeutic procedures, together with follow-
up progress notes from completed encounter forms. The original encounter forms
remained in the patients’ charts, but searches from the computer-based patient
record could be made using the patient’s enrollment identification number and
information from single or multiple visits Henley and Wiederhold [81].
In 1973 Braunstein and associates at the Medical University of South Carolina in
Charleston initiated an OIS at the university-affiliated Family Practice Center. The
center trained resident physicians in family practice, in addition to providing gen-
eral care for 7,000 patients who made 25,000 office visits a year. Medical data were
dictated by physicians to medical transcriptionists, who then entered the data into
two PDP-15/75 computer systems by display terminal keyboards distributed
throughout the center. A relatively comprehensive computer-stored patient record
included medical history, physical examination, problem list, physicians’ orders,
diagnoses, treatments, medications, laboratory findings, x-ray and electrocardio-
gram reports, and progress notes. At each patient’s visit, a paper record of the stored
information was organized in a problem-oriented format and printed for use by the
patient’s physician. The pharmacy was also integrated into the system, so that before
they were filled, prescriptions could be screened for drug-drug interactions and a
patient’s allergies [20, 21].
In 1973, Penick in the Appalachia II Health District of Greenville, South Carolina,
in collaboration with Clemson University, developed an OIS for 46,700 mostly indi-
gent patients who made 93,500 visits per year in a four-county area of the South
Carolina Department of Public Health. Data were collected in the OIS in six of the
clinics. Some clinics used encounter forms, with check marks and provision for text;
some clinics used mark-sense forms; and some clinics used direct entry to the com-
puter by display terminal and keyboard, connected through telephone lines to a
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 325
mainframe computer at Clemson University. Clinicians saw patients with their tra-
ditional paper-based record, but at all six sites the computer-stored record was avail-
able on a display terminal. It provided data from previous visits, laboratory results,
and referrals to other contacts within the public-health system. In addition, patient
scheduling was provided by the OIS for 135 clinics in the system [81].
Nelson and associates [130] at Dartmouth Medical School initiated the Primary
Care Cooperative Information (COOP) Project, which consisted of a network of 16
small, free standing, primary care practices in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont
that were working with the medical school faculty. An outpatient encounter form
was completed after each patient’s visit and mailed to Dartmouth where it was
keypunched and entered into a computer. With their information in the computer,
each practice received periodic management reports and inter-practice comparisons
together with billing services. After 2 years of experience, however, it was con-
cluded that for a network of small medical practices, it would be more cost effective
to have a distributed system with microcomputers housed in each practice.
With the advent of lower-cost minicomputers in the 1970s, an increased effort
was being made in many locations to develop OISs. Henley and Wiederhold [81]
reported the development of OISs in more than 200 sites in the United States; 175
of these were developing electronic medical record systems, 17 of which had opera-
tional, state-of-the-art systems. Eleven of the 17 sites provided primary patient care;
7 were largely supported by federal grants, 2 were supported from institutional
funds, and the rest were supported primarily by users. The authors considered seven
of these sites to be academic institutions [81].
Henley and Wiederhold [81] also completed a review of the accomplishments of
these 17 operating, state-of-the-art, computer-based OISs. They reported that all
sites stored the patients’ chief complaints or symptoms; and all sites provided
patient identification data together with search capabilities on the information
within the patients’ electronic records (11 of the sites had online search
capabilities).
Whiting-O’Keefe et al. [186] at the University of California in San Francisco
reported on their Summary Time Oriented Record (STOR), designed to replace
most of the traditional paper-based chart in their outpatient clinics. STOR contained
a computer-generated, tabular, flow-charted summary of the patient’s electronic
medical record, which included patients’ problems, physical examination findings,
laboratory test reports, and treatments provided. The physician’s written notes, with
radiology reports, pathology reports, and discharge diagnoses in free text, were also
available to the physician at the time of the patient’s visit. STOR retained this infor-
mation for the seven most recent clinic visits of each patient. On the reverse side of
STOR’s printed summary form, an encounter form was available for the physician
to use to write free-text notes or orders, which would then be entered into the
patient’s record for subsequent retrieval and use.
In 1983, STOR was interfaced by a local area network to radiology, pathology,
clinical laboratories, and to a central transcription service for dictated reports. For
the most part, physicians preferred the summaries generated by STOR to the tradi-
326 M.F. Collen et al.
tional paper-based records [187]. In 1985 STOR was approved for clinic-wide
implementation in the University of California ambulatory care clinics [80].
Shapiro [145] reported an enhanced version of the South Carolina ambulatory
medical program (SCAMP), which served 180 primary care physicians. SCAMP
also used transcriptionist intermediaries and clinical personnel to enter data into the
computer. It permitted physicians to create their own reminder rules by filling in
blanks in displayed menus or templates. It supported online retrieval and examina-
tion of patients’ problems and other computer-stored patient data. By means of
video display terminals it included the capability of searching natural language text.
With displayed menus users could format reports.
Stoneburner [162] listed 73 vendors of OISs in the United States. Friedman and
McDonald [57] reported that more than 100 different varieties of personal comput-
ers were available for use by physicians. In 1984, Polacsek published his first
“Medical Software Buyer’s Guide,” a collection of 86 predominately microcomputer-
supported OISs. His 1985 Guide included over 150 OISs. In 1986 he described 657
OISs; and in 1987, his fourth Buyer’s Guide included more than 900. Many of these
included software for office management systems, clinical specialty systems, and
hospital, laboratory, pharmacy, and radiology systems [132].
Knight and associates [95] at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
added a clinical prompting program to their OIS for a general medical group prac-
tice in the clinics of the North Carolina Memorial Hospital. This was used primarily
to remind physicians when to use preventive-medicine health-promotion proce-
dures. In response to a survey, 65 % of the participating physicians said they liked
being reminded, and 97 % said they would include a prompting system in any future
private practice.
In the 1970s and 1980s the three OIS systems that received the most recognition
in the United States, as best satisfying the functional and technical requirements for
clinical office practice, were the COSTAR, TMR, and Regenstrief systems described
above. In the 1990s and 2000s, a variety of more advanced electronic health record
systems began to be appear, and in the 2010s, with financial support from the Center
for Medicare and Medicaid, there would be a rapid diffusion of OISs in the United
States.
device. Information in the optical card could be encoded and read with a laser; and
the information could be manipulated with software in a manner similar to other
computer storage devices. In 1985 a subsidiary of Blue Cross-Blue Shield in
Maryland announced the use of a laser optical card that could hold up to 800 pages
of personal medical information and could be carried in wallets or pocketbooks by
members of their plan. The cards were designed to facilitate patients’ hospital
admissions and to provide information to patients’ physicians about prior clinical
care received, whether in the hospital, the emergency room, or the physician’s
office. The portable card reader-writer unit was connected to the bus of an IBM
personal computer [111].
Vallbona [173] used a laser optical card capable of storing 1.76 megabytes of
digitized data, which was equivalent to about 700 pages of text. This Health Passport
collected and made available for retrieval, the identification data, medical problems,
medications, laboratory and x-ray results, and medical history items of each card-
carrying patient. Valbona reported that patients did indeed carry their cards with
them when they visited the clinic, and that the optical card reader-writer functioned
without problems. Since information once written onto the card could not be
removed, the card was a good mechanism for recording historical information, such
as a patient’s medical history.
Historically, telecommunications go back to 1844, when near-instantaneous
communication across long distances began in the United States with the inaugura-
tion of public telegraph services between Washington and Baltimore. In 1876 Bell
patented the telephone for the electronic transmission of voice [53]. Telemedicine,
in the general meaning of the word, began with the use of telephone lines to transmit
voice.
Telemedicine was defined by Grigsby [64] as the use of communications tech-
nology to provide health care services for persons who are at a distance from the
health care provider. Merrell [123] defined telemedicine as the use of transmitted
text, images, voice, and other signals to permit consultation, and education in medi-
cine over a distance. Houtchens et al. [84] also defined telemedicine as medicine at
a distance, and described its role in influencing the development of standards and
protocols for the transfer of patients’ records that contained images. They outlined
the requirements for image size, storage, transmission, resolution, and viewing, as
well as requirements for linking images to textual or coded data.
Field [53] defined telemedicine as the use of electronic information and com-
munications technologies to provide and support health care when distance sepa-
rates the participants. Field differentiated between the site that organized and
provided the telemedicine services (the central or consulting site) and the site at
which the patient being served was located (the remote, satellite, or distant site).
The earliest description of a tele-radiology system in the United States was reported
in 1950 [53].
A frequently cited early telemedicine system linked a nurse practitioner located
at the Logan Airport with physicians at the Massachusetts General Hospital in
Boston, using a two-way, audio/video, slow-scan microwave system to transmit
x-ray images [129]. Moore [128] described the Cambridge Telemedicine Project,
328 M.F. Collen et al.
Also in the 2000s, Verizon and other information technology vendors announced
cloud server storage using Web-based technology that could communicate rela-
tively secure, protected patient data between collaborating health care providers. An
increasingly common and efficient use of telemedicine was for mobile, health moni-
toring in the homes of patients with chronic diseases, such as diabetes, advanced
heart disease, and renal disease. Such monitoring could be supported by personal
portable patients’ records [64].
In 2003, PubMed for Handhelds (PubMedHh) was released by the National
Library of Medicine to provide MEDLINE access at the point of patient care by
means of smartphones, wireless tablet devices, netbooks, and portable laptops
(NLM Programs and Services 2012). In 2010 physicians and nurses in hospitals
were using hand-held smart phones and iPads to download patients’ electronic
records, and to retrieve and enter clinical data [124, 134].
In the 2010s, commercial vendors of electronic health care systems, with the
financial stimulus of the federal government, produced a diffusion of their system
installations in the United States, with an associated rapid growth of mobile health
care. Halvorson [71] and Fasano [48] referred to the Veterans Administration and
Kaiser Permanente as excellent examples of places where telehealth was used effec-
tively in the direct support of patient care.
Lindberg [99] outlined the degrees of difficulty in the development of medical inno-
vations: the easiest is the automation of a simple function, such as providing a
patient’s billing for services; more difficult is the automation of a more complex
function, such as collecting and storing a patient’s medical history; more difficult
still is the complex process of constructing a medical database; and the most diffi-
cult is developing the highly complex, medical information and database manage-
ment system for a hospital. This highest degree of difficulty is in keeping with
Starr’s [158] apt ranking of the hospital as the most complex organizational struc-
ture created by man.
There were relatively few office information systems in the United States in the
1960s. Those that were operational were mostly in ambulatory clinics that shared
time on mainframe computers with affiliated hospitals. In the 1970s, some stand-
alone OISs in larger groups began to function on minicomputers. With the advent
of low-cost microcomputers in the 1980s, OISs began to diffuse rapidly throughout
the United States. By the end of the 1980s, about 80 % of physicians had some type
of computer in their offices, primarily for administrative and business functions.
Although OISs were simpler than hospital information systems, computer-based
patient records and other OIS clinical applications were still infrequently used,
even at the end of the 1980s. When they admitted a patient to the hospital, few
physicians could transfer data from their OIS to the information system of the
hospital.
330 M.F. Collen et al.
References
1. Arellano MG, Simborg DW. A probabilistic approach to the patient identification problem.
Proc SCAMC. 1981;852–6.
2. Ausman RK. Automated storage and retrieval of patient data. Am J Surg. 1967;114:159–66.
3. Barnett GO. The application of computer-based medical record systems in ambulatory prac-
tice. In: Orthner HF, Blum BI, editors. Implementing health care information systems.
New York: Springer-Verlag; 1989. p. 85–99.
4. Barnett GO. Computer-stored ambulatory record (COSTAR). US Department of Health,
Education, and Welfare, Public Health Service, Health Resources Administration,
Washington, DC: National Center for Health Services Research; 1976.
5. Barnett GO, Souder D, Beaman P, Hupp J. MUMPS: an evolutionary commentary. Comput
Biomed Res. 1981;14:112–8.
6. Barnett GO. The modular hospital information system. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic Press; 1974. p. 243–5.
7. Barnett GO, Greenes RA, Grossman JH. Computer processing of medical text information.
Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:177–82.
8. Barnett GO, Justice NS, Somand, et al. COSTAR: a computer-based medical information
system for ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC. 1978;486–7.
9. Barnett GO, Justice NS, Somand ME, et al. COSTAR:a computer-based medical information
system for ambulatory care. Proc IEEE. 1979;67:1226–37.
10. Barnett GO, Zielstorff RD, Piggins J, McLatchey J, Morgan MM, Barrett SM, et al. COSTAR:
a comprehensive medical information system for ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC.
1982;8–18.
11. Bennett AM. Telehealth handbook. A guide to telecommunications technology for Rural
Health Care. DHEW Pub No (PHS). 1978;79–3210.
12. Blois MS. Information and medicine: The nature of medical descriptions. Berkeley:
University of California Press; 1984.
13. Bloom SM, White RJ, Beckley RF, Slack WV. Converse: a means to write, edit, administer,
and summarize computer-based dialogue. Comput Biomed Res. 1978;11:167–75.
14. Blum BI. A history of computers. In: Blum B, editor. Clinical information systems. New York:
Springer; 1986. p. 1–32.
15. Blum BI, Lenhard RE. An oncology clinical information system. Computer.
1979;12:42–50.
16. Blum RL. Automating the study of clinical hypotheses on a time-oriented data base: the RX
project. Proc MEDINFO. 1979;456–60.
17. Bolt, Beranek, Newman. The CAPO project: phase 1 evaluation of an automated medical
history in office practice. Boston: BB 1972.
18. Bouchard RE, Tufo HM, Van Buren H, Eddy WM, Twitchell JC, Bedard L. The patient and
his problem-oriented record. Applying the problem-oriented system. New York: Medcom
Press; 1973. p. 42–6.
19. Bowie J, Kerlin BD. A multi-clinic implementation of COSTAR V. Proc MEDINFO.
1980;862–6.
20. Braunstein M. The computer in a family practice centre: a “public” utility for patient care,
teaching, and research. Proc Int Symp IRIA. 1976;761–8.
21. Braunstein ML, Schuman SH, Curry HB. An on-line clinical information system in family
practice. J Fam Pract. 1977;5:617–25.
22. Brodman K, van Woerkom AJ, Erdmann AJ, Goldstein LS. Interpretation of symptoms with
a data-processing machine. AMA Arch Int Med. 1959;103:776–82.
23. Brodman K, Erdmann AJ, Lorge I, Wolff HG, Broadbent TH. The Cornell medical index-
health questionnaire as a diagnostic instrument. JAMA. 1951;145:152–7.
24. Brodman K, Erdmann AJ, Lorge I, Wolff HG, Broadbent TH. The Cornell medical index: an
adjunct to medical interview. JAMA. 1949;140:530–4.
332 M.F. Collen et al.
25. Brunjes S. An anamnestic matrix toward a medical language. Comput Biomed Res.
1971;4:571–84.
26. Buchan RRC. Low cost comprehensive microcomputer-based medical history database
acquisition. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:786–93.
27. Budd M, Bleich H, Sherman H, Reiffen B. Survey of automated medical history acquisition
and administering devices. Part I, questionnaires, Project report ACP-4 (Ambulatory care
project). Lexington: Lincoln Laboratory, MIT; 1969.
28. Capozzoli E. An automated approach to medical record tracking. Top Health Rec Manage.
1981;2:27.
29. Carlstedt B, Jeris DW, Kramer W, Griefenhage R, McDonald CJ. A computer-based phar-
macy system for ambulatory patient care. Indiana Pharm. 1977;58:92–8.
30. Castleman PA, Bertoni P, Whitehead SF. An ambulatory care center support system. In: van
Egmond J, de Vries Robbes PF, Levy AH, editors. Information systems in patient care.
Amsterdam: North Holland; 1976. p. 45–56.
31. Chen TT, Williams BT, Levy AH. Graphically enhanced medical information system net-
work. In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced Medical Systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia
Specialists; 1977. p. 135–44.
32. Coleman JR, Lowry CE. A computerized MIS to support the administration of quality patient
care in HMOs organized as IPAs. J Med Syst. 1983;7:273–84.
33. Collen M. A guide matrix for technological system evaluation. J Med Syst. 1978;2:249–54.
34. Collen M. Hospital computer systems: reasons for failures and factors making for success. In:
Public Health in Europe 1. Copenhagen: World Health Organization; 1972. p 91–7.
35. Collen MF. A history of medical informatics in the United States, 1950 to 1990. Indianapolis:
American Medical Informatics Association; 1995.
36. Collen MF. Computers in preventive health services research. 7th IBM Medical Symp.
1965;331–44.
37. Collen MF. Patient data acquisition. Med Instrum. 1977;12:222–5.
38. Collen MF. Automated multiphasic screening and occupational data. Arch Environ Health.
1967;15:280–4.
39. Collen MF. Periodic health examinations using an automated multitest laboratory. JAMA.
1966;195:830–3.
40. Collen MF, Linden C. Screening in a group practice prepaid medical care plan as applied to
periodic health examinations. J Chronic Dis. 1955;2:400–8.
41. Collen MF, Cutler JL, Siegelaub AB, Cella RL. Reliability of a self-administered medical
questionnaire. Arch Intern Med. 1969;123:664–81.
42. Collen MF, Rubin L, Neyman J, Dantzig GB, Baer RM, Siegelaub AB. Automated multipha-
sic screening and diagnosis. Am J Publ Health Nations Health. 1964;54:741–50.
43. Conrath DW, Bloor WG, Dunn EV, Tranquada B. A clinical evaluation of four alternative
telemedicine systems. Behav Sci. 1977;22:12–21.
44. Cordle F. The automation of clinical records: an overview with special emphasis on the auto-
mation of office records in the primary medical care setting. Med Care. 1972;10:470–80.
45. Cross HD. The problem-oriented system in private practice in a small town. In: Hurst JW,
Walker HK, editors. The problem-oriented system. New York: MEDCOM Learning Systems;
1972. p. 143–72.
46. Dunn EV, Conrath DW, Bloor WG, Tranquado B. An evaluation of four telemedicine systems
for primary care. Health Serv Res. 1997;19–29.
47. Evans LA, Vallbona C, Speck CD. An ambulatory care system for a network of community
health centers. Proc MEDINFO. 1980;871–5.
48. Fasano P. Telehealth for one-stop care. In: Fasano P, editor. Transforming health care: the
financial impact of technology, electronic tools, and data mining. Hoboken: Wiley; 2013.
p. 87–103.
49. Feinstein AR. Quality of data in the medical record. Comput Biomed Res. 1970;3:426–35.
50. Felts WR. Choosing office practice systems for billing, accounting, and medical record func-
tions. MD Comput. 1984;1:10–7.
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 333
51. Felts WR, Kirby Jr WH. Overview: need and demand. Proc SCAMC. 1979;709–15.
52. Fiddleman RH. Proliferation of COSTAR: a status report. Proc SCAMC. 1982;175–8.
53. Field MJ. Telemedicine: a guide to assessing telecommunications for health care. Washington,
DC: National Academies Press; 1996.
54. Friedman C. A broad-coverage natural language processing system. Proc AMIA.
2000;270–4.
55. Friedman GD, Ury HK, Klatsky AL, Siegelaub AB. A psychological questionnaire predictive
of myocardial infarction: results from the Kaiser-Permanente epidemiologic study of myo-
cardial infarction. Psychosom Med. 1974;36:327–43.
56. Friedman RB, Huhta J, Cheung S. An automated verbal medical history system. Arch Intern
Med. 1978;138:1359–61.
57. Friedman RB, McDonald CJ. A buyer’s guide to microcomputers for the home of office.
Medcomp.1983;1:60–71.
58. Fries JF. Alternatives in medical record formats. Med Care. 1974;12:871–81.
59. Fries JF. Time-oriented patient records and a computer databank. JAMA.
1972;222:1536–42.
60. Gabrieli ER. Planning a health information system. Symposium on use of computers in clini-
cal medicine. Buffalo: State University of New York, Buffalo; 1968.
61. Giebink GA, Hurst LL. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975.
62. Goldstein SS. Assisted recording of the medical history (ARM): a method of recording the
medical history during the interview. Comput Biol Med. 1974;4:215–22.
63. Greenes RA, Pappalardo AN, Marble CW, Barnett GO. Design and implementation of a
clinical data management system. Comput Biomed Res. 1969;2:469–85.
64. Grigsby J. Current status of domestic telemedicine. J Med Syst. 1995;19:19–27.
65. Grossman JH, Barnet GO, McGuire MT, Swedlow DB. Evaluation of computer-acquired
patient histories. JAMA. 1971;215:1286–91.
66. Grossman JH, Barnett GO, Koepsell TD, Nesson HR, Dorsey JL, Phillips RR. An automated
medical record system. JAMA. 1973;224:1616–21.
67. Haas RE, Fleishl G. Medical time sharing on a small business computer. Proc San Diego
Biomed Symp. 1972;11:359–62.
68. Haessler HA. The interactive, self-administered medical history: automated multiphasic
health testing. Eng Found Res Conf. 1970;276–86.
69. Haessler HA, Holland T, Elshtain EL. Evolution of an automated database history. Arch
Intern Med. 1974;134:586–91.
70. Hall WD. Introduction of the problem-oriented record into an outpatient subspecialty clinic.
In: Hurst JW, Walker HK, editors. The problem-oriented system. New York: MEDCOM
Learning Systems; 1972. p. 131–6.
71. Halvorson G, Goldsbrough P, Kennedy S, Close K, Becker D. The digital dimension of
healthcare. Report of the digital innovation in healthcare working group 2012. Imperial
College, London: Global Health Policy Summit; 2012.
72. Hammond W, Stead W, Straube M, Kelly M, Winfree R. An interface between a hospital
information system and a computerized medical record. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1537–40.
73. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Snow JL, et al. Clinical applications of a minicomputer informa-
tion support system. In: Proceedings 27th ACEMB; 1974. p 73.
74. Hammond WE, Snow JL, Dorsey FC. A primary care medical record system. Proc 27TH
ACEMB. 1974;326.
75. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ, Jelovsek FR. Functional characteristics of a comput-
erized medical record. Methods Inf Med. 1980;19:157–62.
76. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Feagin SJ, Brantley BA, Straube MJ. Data base management
system for ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC. 1977;173–87.
77. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. Adapting to the day to day growth of TMR. Proc
SCAMC. 1983: 101–5.
334 M.F. Collen et al.
78. Hammond WE, Brantley BA, Feagin SJ, Lloyd SC, Stead WW, Walter EL. GEMISCH: a
minicomputer information support system. Proc IEEE. 1973;61:1575–83.
79. Haug PJ, Warner HR, Clayton PD, Schmidt CD, Pearl JE, Farney RJ. A computer-directed
patient history: functional overview and initial experience. Proc MEDINFO.
1986;2:849–52.
80. Henke J, Whiting-O’Keefe Q, Whiting A, Schaffner R, Schnake R, Goldstein R, et al. STOR:
from pilot project to medical center implementation. Proc SCAMC. 1988: 733–7.
81. Henley RR, Wiederhold G. An analysis of automated ambulatory medical record systems.
San Francisco: University of California; 1975.
82. Hershberg PI, Englebardt C, Harrison R, Rockart JF, McGandy RB. The medical history
question as a health screening test: an assessment of validity. Arch Intern Med.
1971;127:266–72.
83. Hinman EJ. The patient-carried personal health record. In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced
medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1977. p. 55–62.
84. Houtchens BA, Allen A, Clemmer TP, Lindberg DA, Pedersen S. Telemedicine protocols and
standards: development and implementation. J Med Syst. 1995;19:93–119.
85. Jelovsek FR, Deason BP, Richard H. Impact of an information system on patients and personnel
in the medical office. Proc SCAMC. 1982:85–8.
86. Jelovsek FR, Hammond WE, Stead WW, Deason BP, Straube MA. Computer based reports
for ambulatory care administrative management. Proc AMIA. 1982;10–3
87. Jessiman AG, Erat K. Automated appointment system to facilitate medical-care management.
Med Care. 1970;8:234–46.
88. Johns CJ, Blum B, Simborg D. The minirecord approach to continuity of care for large popu-
lations of ambulatory patients. Proceedings of the 3rd Illinois conference on medical infor-
mation systems; 1976. p. 121–32.
89. Johns CJ, Simborg DW, Blum BI, Starfield BH. A minirecord: an aid to continuity of care.
Johns Hopkins Med J. 1977;140:277–84.
90. Juergens JL, Kiely JM. Physician entry of cardiac physical findings into a computer-based
medical record. Mayo Clinic Proc. 1969;44:361–6.
91. Kanner IF. Use of computers in an outpatient clinic. In: Rose J, Mitchell J, editors. Advances
in medical computing. New York: Churchill Livingstone; 1975. p. 143–7.
92. Kanner IF. Programmed medical history-taking with or without computer. JAMA.
1969;207:317–21.
93. Kerlin BD. Dissemination of COSTAR. J Med Syst. 1986;10:265–9.
94. Kiely JM, Juergens JL, Hisey BL, Williams PE. A computer-based medical record: entry of
data from the history and physical examination by the physician. JAMA. 1968;205:571–6.
95. Knight BP, O’Malley MS, Fletcher SW. Physician acceptance of a computerized health main-
tenance prompting program. Am J Prev Med. 1987;3:19–24.
96. Kuhn IM, Wiederhold G, Rodnick JE, Ransey-Klee D, Benett S, Beck DD. Automated ambu-
latory record systems in the US. NTIS Publication (1982, August); 1982. p. 178–89.
97. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
98. Lindberg D. Collection, evaluation, and transmission of hospital laboratory data. Methods Inf
Med. 1967;6:97–107.
99. Lindberg DAB. The development and diffusion of a medical technology: medical informa-
tion systems. In: Medical technology and the health care system: a study of the diffusion of
equipment-embodied technology. Washington, DC: National Academy of Sciences; 1979.
p. 201–39.
100. Lloyd SC, Hammond WE. The physician computer interface. DECUS Proc. 1972;
18:355–9.
101. Lloyd SC, Brantley BA, Hammond WE, Stead WW, Thompson Jr H,K. A generalized medi-
cal information system (GEMISCH) for practicing physicians. Proc ACM. 1971;684–92.
102. Long JM. On providing an automated health record for individuals. Proc MEDINFO.
1986;805–9.
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 335
103. Luciani F. Do you need an appointment? Using a computerized system to match patient needs
with provider resources. In: Eimeren W, Englebrecht R, Flagle C, editors. 3rd Int Con on
system science in health care. New York: Springer; 1984. p. 1338–41.
104. Lunde AS. The birth number concept and record linkage. Am J Public Health.
1975;65:1165–9.
105. Martin MJ, Mayne JG, Taylor WF, Swenson MN. A health questionnaire based on paper-and-
pencil medium individualized and produced by computer: II. Testing and evaluation. JAMA.
1969;208:2064–8.
106. Mayne JG, Weksel W. Use of automation in collecting medical history data: a feasibility
study. Proc in 20th Annual Conf on Engineering in Med and Biol. 1967;17: 1.
107. Mayne JG, Weksel W, Sholtz PN. Toward automating the medical history. Mayo Clin Proc.
1968;43:1.
108. Mayne JG, Martin MJ, Taylor WF, O’Brien PC, Fleming PJ. A health questionnaire based on
paper-and-pencil medium, individualized and produced by computer. III. Usefulness and
acceptability to physicians. Ann Intern Med. 1972;76:923–30.
109. Mayne JG, Martin MJ, Morrow GW, Turner RM, Hisey BL. A health questionnaire based on
paper-and-pencil medium individualized and produced by computer: I. Technique. JAMA.
1969;208:2060–3.
110. McColligan E, Blum B, Brunn C. An automated care medical record system for ambulatory
care. In: Kaplan B, Jelovsek FR, eds. Proc SCM/SAMS Joint Conf on Ambulatory Med.
1981;72–6.
111. McDonald CJ. Medical records on a credit card. MD Comput. 1986;3:8–9.
112. McDonald C, Wiederhold G, Simborg DW. A discussion of the draft proposal for data
exchange standards for clinical laboratory results. Proc IEEE. 1984;406–13.
113. McDonald C, Blevins L, Glazener T, Haas J, Lemmon L, Meeks-Johnson J. Data base man-
agement, feedback control, and the Regenstrief medical record. J Med Syst. 1983;7:111–25.
114. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. Computer-stored medical records: their future role in medical
practice. JAMA. 1988;259:3433–40.
115. McDonald CJ, Murray R, Jeris D, Bhargava B, Seeger J, Blevins L. A computer-based record
and clinical monitoring system for ambulatory care. Am J Public Health. 1977;67:240–5.
116. McDonald CJ, Siu LH, Smith DM, et al. Reminders to physicians from an introspective
computer medical record. Ann Intern Med. 1984;100:130–8.
117. McDonald CJ. The medical gopher – a computer-based physician workstation. Proc SCAMC.
1988;5:34–47.
118. McDonald CJ, Wilson G, Blevins L, Seeger J, Chamness D, Smith D, et al. The Regenstrief
medical record system. Proc SCAMC. 1977;168–9.
119. McDonald CJ, Overhage JM, Tierney WM, Dexter PR, Martin DK, Suico JG, et al. The
Regenstrief medical record system: a quarter century experience. Int J Med Inf.
1999;54:225–53.
120. McLean ER, Foote SV, Wagner G. The collection and processing of medical history data.
Methods Inf Med. 1975;14:150–63.
121. McLean ER. Automated medical history systems. J Clin Comput. 1977;7:59–74.
122. McLean, Rockart J, Hershberg P. The Lahey clinic automated medical history system. AIS
working paper No. 72–17. Los Angeles: University of California; 1972. pp 1–42.
123. Merrell RC. Telemedicine in the 90’s: beyond the future. J Med Syst. 1995;19:15–8.
124. Mies G. Best cell phones by carriers. PC World. 2010;28:38–40.
125. Miller OW, Adams GE, Simmons EM. The automated physician’s assistant. Proc San Diego
Biomed Symp. 1972;11:47–55.
126. Mishelevich DJ, Kesinger G, Jasper M. Medical record control and the computer. In: Topics
in health record management. Computers and the Medical Record Department. Germantown:
Aspen Systems Corp; 1981. p. 47–55.
336 M.F. Collen et al.
127. Moore FJ. Mechanizing a large registers of first order patient data. Methods Inf Med.
1965;4:1–10.
128. Moore GT, Willemain TR, Bonanno R, Clark WD, Martin AR, Mogielnicki RP. Comparison
of television and telephone for remote medical consultation. N Engl J Med.
1975;292:729–32.
129. Murphy RLH, Fitzpatrick TB, Haynes HA, Bird KT, Sheridan TB. Accuracy of dermatologic
diagnosis by television. Arch Dermatol. 1972;105:833–5.
130. Nelson EC, Bise B, Gagne R, Ohler J, Kirk J, Sarro J, et al. A computerized medical informa-
tion network for small practices. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:861–6.
131. O’Desky R, Petroski SP, Ball M. Computerized physician’s office practice. Health Care
Comput Commun. 1985;2:25. 8,45.
132. Polacsek RA. The fourth annual medical software buyer’s guide. MD Comput.
1987;4:23–136.
133. Pryor DB, Stead WW, Hammond WE, Califf RM, Rosati RA. Features of TMR for a success-
ful clinical and research database. Proc SCAMC. 1982;79–84.
134. Puskin DS, Sanders JH. Telemedicine infrastructure development. J Med Syst.
1995;19:125–9.
135. Roach J, Lee S, Wilcke J, Ehrich M. An expert system for information on pharmacology and
drug interactions. Comput Biol Med. 1985;15:11–23.
136. Rockart JF, Herschberg PI, Harrison R, Stangle BE. A method of scheduling patients in a
multi-specialist medical group practice using a statistically-based symptom scoring tech-
nique. Cambridge, MA: Alfred Sloan School of Management, MIT; 1972. p. 1–25. Working
Paper 1972.
137. Rockhart JF, McLean EF, Hershberg PI, Harrison R. Some experience with an automated
medical history questionnaire. In: Proceedings 10th IBM medical symposium. Yorktown
Heights: IBM;1971. pp 125–43.
138. Rockart JF, McLean ER, Hershberg PI, Bell GO. An automated medical history system:
experience of the Lahey Clinic Foundation with computer-processed medical histories. Arch
Intern Med. 1973;132:348–58.
139. Schenthal JE. Clinical concepts in the application of large scale electronic data processing.
Proceedings of the 2nd IBM Medical Symposium. Endicott, NY: IBM. 1960;391–9.
140. Schenthal JE, Sweeney JW, Nettleton W. Clinical application of electronic data processing
apparatus. II. New methodology in clinical record storage. JAMA. 1961;178:267–70.
141. Schenthal JE, Sweeney JW, Nettleton WJ, Yoder RD. Clinical application of electronic data
processing apparatus. III. System for processing of medical records. JAMA. 1963;
186:101–5.
142. Schulman J, Wood C. Flow sheets for charts of ambulatory patients. JAMA.
1971;217:933–7.
143. Schwichtenberg AH. The development and use of medial machine record cards in the
astronaut selection program. Proceedings 1st IBM medical symposium. Endicott, IBM; 1959.
pp 185–216.
144. Schwichtenberg AH, Flickinger DD, Lovelace I, Randolph W. Development and use of medi-
cal machine record cards in astronaut selection. US Armed Forces Med
J. 1959;10:1324–51.
145. Shapiro AR. Exploratory analysis of the medical record. Inf Health Soc Care.
1983;8:163–71.
146. Slack WV. Medical interviewing by computer. South Med Bull. 1969;57:39–44.
147. Slack WV. A history of computerized medical interviews. MD Comput. 1984;1:52–9.
148. Slack W, Porter D, Witschi J, Sullivan M, Buxbaum R, Stare FJ. Dietary interviewing by
computer: an experimental approach to counseling. J Am Diet Assoc. 1976;69:514–7.
149. Slack WV, Van Cura L. Computer-based patient interviewing. 1. Postgrad Med.
1968;43:68–74.
150. Slack WV, Van Cura LJ. Computer-based patient interviewing. Postgrad Med.
1968;43:115–120.
5 Outpatient Information Systems (OISs) for Ambulatory Care 337
151. Slack WV, Hicks GP, Reed CE, Van Cura LJ. A computer-based medical-history system. N
Engl J Med. 1966;274:194–8.
152. Slack WV. Patient counseling by computer. Proc SCAMC. 1978;222–6.
153. Slack WV, Slack CW. Patient-computer dialogue. N Engl J Med. 1972;286:1304–9.
154. Slack WV, Van Cura LJ. Patient reaction to computer-based patient interviewing. Comput
Biomed Res. 1986;1:527–31.
155. Slack WV, Peckham BM, Van Cura LJ, Carr WF. A computer-based physical examination
system. JAMA. 1967;200:224–8.
156. Smith RE. You know my name, look up the number. Datamation. 1985;31:108–14.
157. Stacy RW, Waxman BD. Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1974.
158. Starr P. The social transformation of American medicine. New York: Basic Books; 1982.
159. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Computer-based medical records: the centerpiece of TMR. MD
Comput. 1988;5:48–62.
160. Stead WW, Heyman A, Thompson HK, Hammond WE. Computer-assisted interview of
patients with functional headache. Arch Intern Med. 1972;129:950.
161. Stewart SP, Arellano MB, Simborg DW. Optimal patient identification system. J Am Med
Rec Assoc. 1984;55:23–7.
162. Stoneburner LL. Survey of computer systems for the physician’s office: current systems. Proc
MEDINFO. 1983;164–9.
163. Strong RM. Survey of automated medical history acquisition and administering devices. Part
2. Administering devices, Project Report ACP-5. Lexington: Lincoln Lab, MIT; 1969.
p. 1–75.
164. Strong R. The QUARK: concept and demonstration. Lexington: Lincoln Lab, MIT; 1970.
165. Swedlow DB, Barnett G, Grossman JH, Souder DE. A simple programming system (driver)
for the creation and execution of an automated medical history. Comput Biomed Res.
1972;5:90–8.
166. Templeton J, Bernes M, Ostrowski M. The financial impact of using TMR in a private group
practice. Proc SCAMC. 1982;95–7.
167. Thompson HK. Acquisition and reporting of medical history data. In: Proceedings 10th IBM
med symposium. Yorktown Heights: IBM; 1971. pp 117–24.
168. Thompson HK, et al. Medical history and physical examination. In: Haga E, editor. Computer
techniques in biomedicine and medicine. Philadelphia: Auerbach Publishers; 1973.
p. 209–25.
169. Tufo HM, Eddy WM, Van Buren H, et al. In: Walker H, editor. Applying the problem-oriented
system. New York: Medcom Press; 1973. p. 19–28.
170. Tufo HM, Bouchard RE, Rubin AS, Twitchell JC, VanBuren HC, Weed LB, et al. Problem-
oriented approach to practice. I. Economic impact. JAMA. 1977;238:414–7.
171. Vallbona C. Computerized information systems for ambulatory care. Proc MEDINFO.
1980;852–6.
172. Vallbona C, Spencer WA. Texas Institute for research and rehabilitation hospital computer
system (Houston). In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974.
p. 662–700.
173. Vallbona C, Brohn J, Albin J. Pilot test and preliminary evaluation of an optical card medical
record system. Proc MEDINFO. 1989;809–12.
174. Vallbona C, Schade CP, Moffet CL, Speck CD, Osher WJ, Tristan MP. Computer support of
medical decisions in ambulatory care. Methods Inf Med. 1975;14:55–62.
175. Van Brunt E, Collen MF, Davis LS, Besag E, Singer SJ. A pilot data system for a medical
center. Proc IEEE. 1969;57:1934–40.
176. Vaughan BJ, Torok KE, Kelly LM, Ewing DJ, Andrews LT. A client/server approach to tele-
medicine. Proc SCAMC. 1994;776–80.
177. Wakefield JS, Yarnall SR. The history database: computer-processed and other medical ques-
tionnaires. Seattle: Medical Computer Services Association; 1975.
338 M.F. Collen et al.
178. Walter EL, Hammond WE. An information retrieval language: P ISAR. In: Proceedings 27th
ACEMB; 1974. p 81.
179. Walters RF. File structures for database management systems. MD Comput. 1987;5:30–41.
180. Warner HR. A computer-based patient monitoring. In: Stacy RW, Waxman B, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1972.
181. Waxman BD, Yamamoto WS, Rockoff ML. Recent trends in health care technology. In: Stacy
RW, Waxman BD, editors. Computers in biomedical research, vol 4. New York: Academic
Press; 1974. pp 1–13.
182. Weed LL. Problem-oriented medical records. In: Driggs MF, editor. Problem-directed and
medical information systems. New York: Intercontinental Medical Book Corp; 1973.
p. 15–38.
183. Weed LL. Medical records, medical education, and patient care: the problem-oriented record
as a basic tool. Cleveland: Press of Case Western Reserve University; 1971.
184. Weed LL. Medical records, medical education, and patient care. Chicago: Year Book Pub;
1969.
185. Weed LL. Special article: medical records that guide and teach. N Engl J Med.
1968;278:593–600.
186. Whiting-O’Keefe QE, Simborg DW, Epstein WV. A controlled experiment to evaluate the
use of a time-oriented summary medical record. Med Care. 1980;18:842–52.
187. Whiting O’Keef QU, Simborg DW, Warger A, et al. Summary Time Oriented Record (STor):
a node in a local area network. Proc SCAMC. 1983;322–5.
188. Wiederhold G. Summary of the findings of the visiting study team on automated medical
record systems for ambulatory care: visit to Duke University Medical Center. CDD-5, HRA
Contract, June 29, 1975.
189. Wiederhold G, Fries JF, Weyl S. Structural organization of clinical data bases. Proc AFIPS
Conf. 1975;479–85.
190. Williams BT. Computer aids to clinical decisions. Boca Raton: CRC Press; 1982.
191. Williams BT, Foote CF, Galassic C, Schaeffer RC. Augmented physician interactive medical
record. Proc MEDINFO. 1989;779–83.
192. Worth ER, Patrick TB, Klimczak JC, Reid JC. Cost-effective clinical uses of wide-area net-
works: electronic mail as telemedicine. Proc SCAMC. 1995;814–18
193. Yarnall SR, Samuelson P, Wakefield JS. Clinical evaluation of an automated screening his-
tory. Northwest Med. 1972;71:186–91.
194. Yoder RD, Swearingen DR, Schenthal JE, Sweeney JW, Nettleton W. An automated clinical
information system. Methods Inf Med. 1964;3:45–50.
195. Yoder RD, Dreyfus RH, Saltzberg B. Identification codes for medical records. Health Serv
Res. 1966;1:53.
Chapter 6
The Early History of Hospital Information
Systems for Inpatient Care in the United
States
Abstract In the 1960s, large hospital systems began to acquire mainframe comput-
ers, primarily for business and administrative functions. In the 1970s, lower-cost,
minicomputers enabled placement of smaller, special purpose clinical application
systems in various hospital departments. Early time-sharing applications used dis-
play terminals located at nursing stations. In the 1960s and 1970s, a small number
of pioneering institutions, many of them academic teaching hospitals with federal
funding, developed their own hospital information systems (HISs). Vendors then
acquired and marketed some of the successful academic prototypes. In the 1980s,
widespread availability of local area networks fostered development of large HISs
with advanced database management capabilities, generally using a mix of large
mini- and microcomputers linked to large numbers of clinical workstations and bed-
side terminals. When federal funding for HIS development diminished in the mid-
1990s, academic centers decreased, and commercial vendors increased their system
development efforts. Interoperability became a main design requirement for HISs
and for electronic patient record (EPR) systems. Beyond 2010, open system archi-
tectures and interconnection standards hold promise for full interchange of informa-
tion between multi-vendor HISs and EPR systems and their related subsystems.
Author Collen was deceased at the time of publication. R.A. Miller edited the original work of
Dr. Collen.
M.F. Collen (deceased)
R.A. Miller, M.D. (*)
Department of Biomedical Informatics, School of Medicine, Vanderbilt University Medical
Center, Nashville, TN, USA
e-mail: [email protected]
In the 1950s, users of large mainframe computers began to explore the applicability
of time-sharing computers to information processing in hospitals. In the early
1960s, Baruch [24] at Bolt, Beranek, and Newman observed that the digital com-
puter could already support many hospital functions. Roach [124] at the Systems
Development Corporation (SDC) described the system components necessary for
implementing an HIS.
In the 1960s, only the largest hospitals could afford the enormous capital expen-
ditures associated with acquisition of large mainframe computers. As pioneering
hospitals developed their own in-house HISs, they connected the central mainframe
computer to key sites throughout the institution using a number of terminals in a
simple star network. Most early HIS implementations followed a modular imple-
mentation approach of the sort advocated by Barnett [20]. The hospitals typically
developed or acquired one HIS module at a time. The various modules and depart-
mental subsystems (laboratory, radiology, and pharmacy) required often difficult
and complex linkages (typically, one-of-a-kind, pre-Health Level 7). When con-
nected to an affiliated outpatient information system, the HIS could function as part
of an evolving total medical information system (MIS). In the mid-1960s, Flagle
[55] at the Johns Hopkins University cited the paucity of literature on medical and
hospital data processing, stating that the subject remained a fertile area for empirical
development.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 341
In 1962, the American Hospital Association surveyed more than 7,000 registered
hospitals regarding their usage of computer data processing applications. They
found that only 7 % of hospitals used data processing equipment. Fewer than 1 % of
smaller hospitals (<100 beds) used computer data processing, and 33 % of larger
hospitals (at least 500 beds) used it. Among hospitals with electronic data process-
ing capabilities, 63 % used it for payroll, 53 % for inventory control, and 44 % for
patient billing. Only 28 % of such hospitals used data processing for patients’ medi-
cal records; and 14 % used it for medical research [61].
During the 1960s and 1970s, most American HISs focused on automation of
hospital administrative services. Ball [6] categorized the earliest (1960s) opera-
tional HISs as the First Generation Level-1 HIS. These encompassed a basic set of
inpatient-oriented computer applications, including: an ADT (admission-discharge-
transfer) application with bed status and census reporting; an order/requisition
entry, communication, and charge collection application; and an inquiry application
for today’s charges for demand bill purposes. Ball characterized changes in the
1970s as Second Generation Level-1 systems, with enhancements that included:
computer-assigned patient identification; nursing order-set entry, nursing notes and
care plans, medication schedules and medication monitoring; laboratory-specimen
collection lists and labels; order entry and results reporting; scheduling for patients,
radiology procedures, and the operating room; medical records indexing, abstracts,
and chart locations; diet-list preparation; utilization review; and doctors’ registries.
An advanced Level-1 HIS provided control functions to monitor routine procedures
and activities, such as inventories of supplies.
Ball [4, 11] noted that some HIS vendors planned their basic HIS designs around
activities that occur at the nursing station. Those activities focused directly on
patient care and were therefore the most important. Nurses constituted the largest
group of health care professionals in any hospital; they accessed the HIS more often
than any other category of health care professional. Nursing functions were always
central to the care of hospital patients, and nurses’ services to patients directly com-
plemented those of physicians. Nursing information systems (NISs) were defined
by Saba and McCormick [129] as computer systems to collect, store, retrieve, dis-
play, and communicate timely information needed to administer nursing services
and resources; to manage patient information for the delivery of nursing care; and
to link nursing practice, research, and education. Nursing systems have become
integral components of HIS since the 1980s.
Summerfield and Empey [153] at Systems Development Corporation in Santa
Monica, California, reported a survey of computer-based information systems in
medicine, and listed 73 ongoing projects attempting to develop components of, or
full-scale HISs. In a historical review, Jacobs [73] noted that commercial vendors
first began in the mid-1960s to realize the significant potential of the hospital data
processing market. In 1966 Honeywell announced the availability of a business and
financial package, acquired from Blue Cross of Minnesota, for a shared hospital
data processing center. The next year, IBM followed with the Shared Hospital
Accounting System (SHAS). Lockheed and National Data Communications, Inc.
(then known as REACH, Inc.) began the development of HISs to be offered to
342 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
hospitals on a turnkey basis. In the late 1960s MEDELCO, Inc. brought a simplified
HIS to the market and met with immediate success.
In 1968 the National Center for Health Services Research and Development
(NCHSR&D) conducted and published a survey of 1,200 hospitals regarding their
information systems. About one-half of all hospitals with more than 200 beds used
computers for some business functions. Of these facilities, only about 15 % had
operational medical or medical research computing applications [70].
Another NCHSR&D report published in 1969 noted although that a total, com-
plete operational HIS did not yet exist, there were some working HIS subsystems,
listed as follow [115]: (1) Data Automation Research and Experimentation by Lake
at Memorial Hospital of Long Beach, California; (2) Demonstration of a Hospital
Data Management System by Spencer at the Texas Institute for Rehabilitation and
Research, Houston, Texas; (3) Hospital Computer Project by Barnett at the
Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, Massachusetts; (4) Demonstration of a
Shared HIS by Huff at the Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis, Peoria, Illinois;
(5) Computer Technics in Patient Care by Clark at the University of Tennessee
School of Medicine, Memphis, Tennessee; (6) Computer Facilitation of Psychiatric
In-Patient Care by Gluek at the Institute of Living, Hartford, Connecticut; (7)
Psychiatric Data Automation by Graetz at the Camarillo State Hospital, Camarillo,
California; and (8) the Pilot AHIS at the Veterans Administration Hospital in
Washington, DC. This report stated that for the research and development of HISs,
the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare had obligated and committed
funds totaling about $10 millions for ten projects. The report identified four
government-funded HIS projects that had major relevance to medical records: (1)
Experimental Medical Records Systems by Ausman at Roswell Park Memorial
Institute, Buffalo, New York; (2) Demonstration of the Integration of Active Medical
Records by Robinson at Bowman-Gray School of Medicine, Winston-Salem, North
Carolina; (3) Automation of a Problem Oriented Medical Record by Weed at
Cleveland Metropolitan General Hospital, Cleveland, Ohio; and (4) A System for
Computer Processing of Medical Records by Schenthal at Tulane University, New
Orleans, Louisiana.
After reviewing the history of the diffusion of HISs to the early 1970s, Jacobs
et al. [74] concluded that there had been a rapid growth in the number of hospitals
with on-site computers, especially in the larger, general, not-for-profit, non-
governmental hospitals. In a smaller survey (with approximately 100 U.S. hospi-
tals responding), 75 % of hospitals indicated they used at least some computer
applications for administrative functions; and about one-third reported clinical
laboratory and/or other patient care applications [143]. Ball and Jacobs [6] reported
that Level-1 HISs, which provided primarily administrative, business, and com-
munication applications, had begun to be accepted in the second half of the 1960s.
A 1974 survey showed that the majority of hospitals still subscribed to out-of-
hospital, shared computing services. However, the percentage of short-stay general
hospitals with in-hospital computers had increased from 30 % for small hospitals
to 75 % for hospitals with 500 or more beds. Other surveys found that 80 % of U.S.
hospitals in 1975, and 90 % in 1976 used some sort of data processing for business
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 343
Ball [9] described the basic business applications for a HIS as including: patient
admission, discharge, and transfer; bed control and inpatient census; billing,
accounts receivable, accounts payable, and general ledger; purchasing; payroll and
personnel; inventory control; budgeting; and planning. Ball also included as basic
administrative patient care functions the nursing services, dietary services, the med-
ical records department; and patients’ procedures scheduling. Hospitals used HIS
administrative data for financial analyses, resource utilization, and productivity
analyses; they used patient care data for administrative planning and forecasting
[36]. The HIS data supported studies of inpatients’ length of stay for utilization
review and quality assurance monitoring for adverse medical events or inappropri-
ate procedures. An Informatics Technology (IT) Officer is often responsible for
administrating the information processing requirements for a large HIS.
In 1983, Medicare, which accounted for about 40 % of total hospital revenues,
began a phased transition in its methods of payments. In contrast to the usual method
of reimbursing hospitals on the basis of their costs for individual services and pro-
cedures, the financing of hospital care began a significant transformation when the
U.S. Congress enacted the Medicare Prospective Payment System (PPS). In order to
then process Medicare payments, every HIS had to accommodate to new accounting
requirements based on 470 diagnosis related groups (DRGs) that were derived from
23 major organ-system groupings of similar International Classification of Diseases
(ICD) codes. In contrast to prior methods of reimbursement of hospitals on the basis
of the costs for individual services and procedures, with the advent of the PPS and
DRGs, hospitals were faced with the need for tightening fiscal operations, and for
maintaining better information concerning their case mix and use of resources. This
required more sophisticated information systems capable of providing such infor-
mation for each department, service, and nursing unit in the hospital; and the devel-
opment of effective cost-containment measures [52, 125, 163]. Within 1 year of the
enactment of the PPS/DRG regulations, about one-half of all U.S. hospitals were
operating under these new regulations. The Medicare PPS served as an impetus for
developing new databases that could be used as administrative planning tools for
controlling both production costs and quantities of services provided. Because the
medical record became the main source for generating the hospital bills, medical
records were being linked to financial data [46]. These regulations affected a large
state like California, for example, where the California Medical Review, Inc., was
organized in 1984 to perform peer review of Medicare medical services in the state.
A system was developed that converted 800,000 existing case records, and pro-
cessed and stored on disk one-million new cases per year for medical review and
statistical analyses. Hospital personnel completed work sheets for data entry that
included patients’ demographic and clinical information, coded clinical decisions
on the need for admission, and the patient’s condition on discharge. The coded
information on the work sheets was entered using microcomputer workstations and
346 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
stored on diskettes that were sent to the central office. In addition to permitting
review of individual cases, the large databases allowed analyses of physicians’ prac-
tice patterns and trends of patient care [128]. Ertel [50] wrote of some adverse
consequences to a hospital’s financial status caused by inaccurate reporting of clini-
cal data by DRGs, since inappropriate DRG assignments could produce under- or
over-payments to hospitals; and he listed some specific functions that automated
systems could do to improve the accuracy of reported data. McPhillips [111], the
director of the Bureau of Data Management and Strategy of the Health Care
Financing Administration (HCFA) that administrated the Medicare and Medicaid
programs, estimated that in 1986 HCFA would spend $112 billion, at the rate of
$12.8 million per hour. The Medicare Statistical System (MSS) of HCFA estab-
lished a database that contained a Master Enrollment Record for each person
enrolled in Medicare; a Provider of Service Record for information on every hospi-
tal (about 6,700) and other institution that provided services to Medicare patients; a
Utilization Record of services billed for Medicare patients by hospitals and physi-
cians; and a Provider Cost Report Record for cost data for the hospital services
provided. In addition, a Utilization and Special Program contained procedure-
specific data for samples of Medicare patients and of their hospital and physician
providers.
Following the changes in 1983 for payments to hospitals by diagnostic related
groups (DRGs), in 1984 Congress also began a series of actions that changed phy-
sicians’ payment by Medicare’s Supplementary Medical Insurance Program [84].
For payments to physicians for their services provided to Medicare patients in hos-
pitals, Congress had initially adopted a system of payment based on the customary,
reasonable, and prevailing charges. Nevertheless, in 1984, Congress limited the
amount that physicians could charge Medicare patients; and in 1988 it established
a relative-value fee scale, based on resource costs for providing services, taking
into account the medical specialty, regional location, and the severity of disease
factors [126]. By the end of the 1980s, HCFA and other insurers were considering
incentives to health care providers for submitting their claims for payments elec-
tronically, using magnetic tape, diskettes, or computer-to-computer input to speed
up claims processing, and to give the insurers a database for better assessment of
future claims. Some large hospitals with advanced HISs, such as Boston’s Beth
Israel Hospital, had already developed automated patient record summaries and
claims processing as a spinoff to online patient care transactions [130]. By the
1990s the hospital information processing became so complex and challenging that
some large hospitals appointed a chief information officer (CIO) to administer their
HIS services.
In the 2000s and 2010s HCFA and the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid
Services (CMS) distributed large sums of money to eligible HISs to support the dif-
fusion of electronic health record (EHR) systems. Web-based data-exchange per-
mitted, in the 2010s, for a great federal financial stimulus to support the diffusion of
enhanced electronic health record (EHR) systems that greatly increased HIS
requirements.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 347
In the mid-1950s, Spencer and Vallbona reported use of a digital computer for
research purposes [142, 144, 145]. In 1959, Spencer and Vallbona at the Texas
Institute for Rehabilitation and Research (TIRR) began development of an HIS for
TIRR, a private, non-profit, 81-bed, special-purpose hospital in the Texas Medical
Center in Houston. Their extended-stay hospital delivered comprehensive rehabili-
tation services to patients having a wide variety of physical disabilities. At TIRR,
the patient care plans were relatively stable over long periods of time, in contrast to
shorter-stay hospitals where care activities change rapidly. The patient care plan-
ning functions in TIRR, however, were appropriate to both long- and short-stay
institutions. Vallbona and Spencer [158] reported that the major objectives of the
TIRR system were to: expedite the flow of information between the physician and
the patient and between the physician and the rehabilitation team; enhance efficient
hospital management; provide data for the study of cost of rehabilitation; improve
the outcome of disability; and facilitate utilization of clinical data for research. The
1959 TIRR HIS included several clinical support subsystems: nurses’ notes, clinical
laboratory reports, and physiological test data. At the end of each shift and at the
end of the day, keypunch clerks transformed manually recorded nurses’ notes into
batch-processed, computer-generated reports. Similarly, clinical staff initially man-
ually recorded on specially designed forms the clinical laboratory reports and physi-
ological test data. Clerks then coded and keypunched the data in the forms, and
processed the results on a batch basis with unit-record equipment.
In the 1960s, the TIRR began to extend its HIS with additional patient care func-
tions [156, 157, 159–162]. In 1961, the acquisition by TIRR of International
Business Machines (IBM) computers models 1401 and of 1620 with magnetic-tape
storage allowed for enhanced data processing, storage, and data retrieval capabili-
ties. In 1964, TIRR installed an IBM 1050 typewriter and card-reader terminal on
one hospital ward to allow nursing personnel to enter data in response to queries
using prepunched cards. Initially, this terminal was connected by a telephone line to
a remote, paper-tape punch machine located at Baylor medical school, where data
were batch processed on an IBM 1410 computer [28]. In 1965 the problem of errors
in data entry by punched paper tape and cards required TIRR to switch to on-line
computing with an IBM 1410 computer. A clerk entered data via the remote type-
writer terminal located at TIRR.
With the establishment of a conversational mode between the terminal and the
computer, error detection and correction by staff personnel became feasible.
Magnetic tapes and random-access disk drives stored the data. Online recording of
vital signs, obtained by physiological monitors, was effectively carried out using
this system [158]. In 1967, acquisition of an IBM 360/50 computer enhanced the
system. The new implementation used Baylor University software and CRT display
and typewriter terminals located in the Institute, connected by telephone lines to the
348 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
IBM 360/50. After a larger core memory storage unit was installed in 1968, deci-
sion support became available for laboratory procedures involving pulmonary func-
tion tests and blood gas analysis; the mainframe improvements enhanced data
retrieval and analysis [158]. Physicians began to enter orders into the HIS, using
IBM 2260 cathode ray tube (CRT) display terminals located in various clinical
departments [25].
In 1969, a patient-scheduling system became operational. It used eight IBM CRT
visual display terminals connected to the Baylor IBM/360 computer. It scheduled
an average of 30 patients (54 % of the hospital’s inpatients) for physiotherapy and
occupational therapy daily; and generated updated reports for each patient [63]. In
1970, TIRR initiated its pharmacy information system. In 1971, a new Four-Phase
Systems minicomputer supported the new clinical laboratory system. The evolving
TIRR Information System (TIRRIS) now provided administrative functions that
included patient identification and registration; admissions and discharge; billing,
accounting, and payroll; and a medical records statistical and reporting system. At
that time, clinical support units included the clinical laboratory; a program that per-
formed calculations on raw data derived during pulmonary-function evaluation test-
ing from spirometers and other equipment used in the cardiopulmonary laboratory;
arterial blood-gas analysis; occupational-therapy and physical-therapy patient sta-
tus reports; and, vocational services reports [158].
By the 1970s, the TIRRIS database contained approximately 48,000 records,
averaging 167 characters in length. This database was maintained as a partially
inverted file, and involved approximately 4,000 transactions per week [158]. The
functioning electronic patient record included such data as: patient descriptors and
demographic data; medical problems represented by a description of the pathology,
the functional impairments and any associated complications; detailed care plans
that facilitated the coordination of ordered care events; results of all laboratory and
functional capacity tests; details of types and quantities of various forms of therapy;
and the abstracted summary report prepared from the complete hospitalization record
following the patients’ discharge. Frequently required patient information was avail-
able to the care staff as computer-printed documents. These comprised parts of the
regular paper-based patient record. While there was no single integrated computer
file which contained all of a patient’s information, programs could readily extract and
combine data from individual reports with other information as needed [158].
Despite the limitations of its early display terminals, TIRR was able to develop
relatively sophisticated computer-assisted patient care planning functionality. That
subsystem provided a care plan listing the major goals that the medical staff intended
to achieve for the patient; and the corresponding care plans and activities specified
to achieve these goals. The activity lists appeared in chronological order for a 24-h
period, and indicated which department was responsible for the performance of
each task. When the patient arrived at the nursing station, the basic plan of care was
already there. Valbonna (1974) reported that this automated process reduced by as
many as 3 days the time lag between the admission of a patient and the start of the
care plan. During a patient’s stay, the basic plan was updated with orders written by
the physician, the nurse, and the therapists to fit the patient’s specific needs and the
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 349
doctor’s particular mode of practice. Other clinical departments added their activi-
ties to the patient’s plan list, which became an event schedule in addition to being a
care plan. The reports and CRT displays generated from the care plans and sched-
ules were used daily by all professionals involved in patient care, including the
nurses, aides, orderlies, ward clerks, clinic personnel, social workers, laboratory
technicians, vocational counselors, social service counselors, x-ray technicians,
dietician, transportation personnel and therapists.
The TIRR IS was one of the earliest HISs developed in the United States.
Beginning with batched, punched-card processing of patient data in 1959, TIRR
initiated online interactive computer processing in 1967 and had a fairly compre-
hensive HIS operating by the early 1970s. The system continued to operate thereaf-
ter and was exported to other sites. Versions of the system were installed at Baylor
College of Medicine by Baylor’s Institute of Computer Science (where it was called
BIAS), to support research departments and a cervical cancer registry, and at the
University of Missouri-Columbia, where it was called GISMO for General
Information System, Missouri [3].
In 1961, the Fairfax Hospital in Falls Church, Virginia, began to use unit-record,
punch-card tabulating equipment for business and administrative functions. In
January 1962, the Fairfax Hospital began to time-share a single computer with the
Alexandria Hospital; and employed a unified staff for both data processing opera-
tions and systems development [44].
In 1962, Children’s Hospital in Akron, Ohio installed an IBM 1401 computer for
scheduling nursing personnel and for processing doctors’ orders. After physicians
wrote orders for patients, clerks keypunched the orders for data processing. The
keypunched information included patient identification and admission data, as well
as orders for medications, laboratory tests, x-ray examinations, and diets. The
resulting data underwent statistical analysis [49]. In 1964, the hospital discontinued
using punched cards, and installed at every nursing station an electric typewriter.
The latter served as both an output printer and a data entry unit. Using a matrix of
120 buttons, all data were numerically coded, including the patients’ identification
numbers, orders for medications, laboratory tests, x-ray studies, diets, and other
procedures. Data entry clerks turned a scroll on the data-entry unit to show the type
of entry to be made. The first two columns of buttons indicated the type of order; the
next three columns of buttons served to enter the patient’s number; the next four
columns designated the order number; the remaining three columns of buttons were
350 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
used to enter modifiers, such as the type of order and frequency. The printer then
provided the printouts for use as requisitions, which were also used as laboratory
report slips to be filed in the patients’ charts. All data were stored on a random-
access device. Schedules for surgery and personnel, as well as for administrative
and business reports, were provided by the system [34].
In the early 1960s, Warner and associates at the University of Utah affiliated LDS
Hospital (formerly known as the Latter Day Saints Hospital) in Salt Lake City
began to use a Control Data Corporation (CDC) 3300 computer to support clinical
applications. They used Tektronix 601 terminals capable of displaying 400 charac-
ters in a 25-column by 16-row pattern, or graphical data with a capability of 512
horizontal and 512 vertical dots. Each terminal had a decimal keyboard, and two
12-bit, octal thumbwheel switches for coding information into the computer [164].
In the 1970s they developed one of the most effective hospital information systems
of the early HIS era. Their Health Evaluation through Logical Processing (HELP)
System at the LDS Hospital had terminals located at its nursing units. Those allowed
the nurses to select new orders from displayed menus, to review previous orders,
and to examine reported results. In the early 1970s, they created MEDLAB to mar-
ket the clinical laboratory system they had developed that was directly interfaced to
automated laboratory equipment. Special coding systems were devised to enter data
from radiology. In 1971, use of the Systematized Nomenclature of Pathology
(SNOP) coding system enabled entry of diagnoses via a video terminal [60]. In
1975, the LDS subsystems included the clinical laboratory, multiphasic testing for
patients admitted to the LDS Hospital, and computerized electrocardiogram analy-
sis [80]. By 1978, the LDS hospital information system had outgrown its centralized
computer system. During the 1980s, the LDS HELP system formed the center of a
series of networked minicomputers interfaced to the existing central computer. A
central database stored data imported from all hospital sources. From the central
store, data were transmitted data to-and-from microcomputers located in each of the
intensive care units [59]. By the 1980s, items stored in the integrated patient record
database included reports from the clinical laboratory, from pathology biopsies,
radiology, electrocardiography, multiphasic testing, and pharmacy [122]. In the
1990s, the HELP system expanded to provide comprehensive clinical support ser-
vices in nine affiliated Intermountain Health Care Hospitals in Utah [58].
The University of Missouri medical center had 441 hospital beds and admitted
60,000 patients in 1964. In 1963, Lindberg [93] and associates at the University of
Missouri in Columbia installed an IBM 1410 computer. While their overall
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 351
objective was to support the practice and teaching of medicine, the initial project
was development of one of the first systems that reported all clinical laboratory
results through the computer [93]. Keypunch operators entered laboratory data on
approximately 500,000 tests per year into the computer. Additionally, the computer
processed patient information including the tumor registry, hospital discharge diag-
noses, and data on operations and related surgical pathology findings. The system
grew to support the hospital’s admission, discharge, and patient census programs;
patient billing and accounting; nightly nursing report sheets; the dietary department
inventory; periodic hospital statistics; and, personnel records.
In 1965, the University of Missouri replaced the laboratory punched card system
with IBM 1092/1093 matrix-keyboard terminals. A limits program categorized
results entered into the computer as reasonable, abnormal, or as unreasonable. The
system recognized patterns of laboratory test results and correlated the patterns with
other findings recorded in the patient’s record. It could thus advise physicians about
potential patient care actions to consider. Lindberg [96], using the Standard
Nomenclature of Diseases and Operations (SNDO), between 1955 and 1965 coded
patients’ discharge diagnoses and surgical operative procedures and stored these on
magnetic tape. The system also accumulated SNDO coded diagnoses for all autopsy
and surgical pathology specimens, and coded interpretations for each radiology and
electrocardiogram tests. Computer-based records for 1,200 active patient cases with
thyroid disease included all laboratory test results, the patient’s history and physical
examination, progress notes, prescribed therapies, and evaluations of the effects of
therapy [91, 92]. The system also processed patient’ data from pulmonary function
tests, adjusted the results for age and body stature, and provided a differential diag-
nosis of possible diseases. By 1968, Lindberg had added an information system for
the department of surgery to provide patient identification, admission, and discharge
functions; listing of all surgical complications while in the hospital; operating room
procedure entries made by the surgeon, anesthesiologist, and circulation nurse; lab-
oratory, surgical-pathology, and autopsy reports; a daily operating room log; and
individual patient summary reports [88].
Lindberg’s system also supported 34 research projects and was used in the
teaching of medical students [95]. They used the Standard Nomenclature of
Diseases and Operations (SNDO) for the coding of patients’ discharge diagnoses
and surgical operative procedures [96], and stored these on magnetic tape for all
patients admitted to the hospital (1955–1965). Other categories of patient data in
the system included a patient master reference file with identification data stored
on a random-access disk file. All SNDO-coded diagnoses for autopsy and surgical-
pathology specimens, and all coded radiology and electrocardiogram interpreta-
tions, were stored on magnetic tape in fixed-field format. Computer routines were
available for recovery of all categories of data stored. All were aimed at medical
student and physician inquiries [95]. To query the system, the user keypunched a
control card with the code number of each diagnosis about which the user was
inquiring. The computer system read the punched cards and searched the magnetic
tape records containing all patients’ diagnoses. When a record with the specified
diagnosis code was found, the system identified the unit numbers of the patients
352 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
associated with the diagnosis, and assigned a ‘flag’ in the random access working
storage corresponding with each patient who had the diagnosis [33]. Lindberg [89]
used this approach to combine multiple diagnoses to flag unique diagnoses. He also
used laboratory test patterns to aid clinicians in the recognition of a possible abnor-
mal or premorbid state. For example, Lindberg [92] studied the patterns found in
almost 6,000 electrolyte determinations for serum sodium, potassium, chlorides,
and carbonate; and was able to not only identify important combinations of abnor-
mal test values, but also to recognize new patterns; and to predict the state of kid-
ney function.
Lindberg [89] also developed his CONSIDER program, which used the American
Medical Association (AMA) publication, Current Medical Terminology, to provide
the signs, symptoms, and findings for common diagnoses. If the user submitted a set
of signs and symptoms, the computer would then list the diseases the physician
should consider. With Kingsland, Lindberg initiated a fact bank of biomedical infor-
mation for use by practicing physicians, and also by scholars and students, that
contained information from diverse origins such as text-books, monographs, and
articles. In 1969 Lindberg operated for the Missouri Regional Medical program a
computer dedicated to electrocardiogram interpretation by using the 12-lead scalar
system developed by Caceres within the United States Public Health Service
(USPHS) Systems Development Laboratory. The electrocardiograms were trans-
mitted over dial-up telephone lines to the computer center; and automated interpre-
tations were returned to teletype printers in the hospital or in doctor’s offices.
Lindberg also provided computer services to the Missouri State Division of Health
for all births, deaths, divorces, and hospital diagnosis records for the state of
Missouri; and provided periodic analysis to the Missouri Crippled Children’s
Service for diagnoses, therapy, costs, and patients’ statistics. By 1969 they had col-
lected 12 years of coded hospital discharge, autopsy, and surgical diagnoses. They
also used a differential diagnosis x-ray program developed by Lodwick for the x-ray
interpretation of bone tumors, coin lesions in chest films, and suspected gastric
cancer [94]. Lindberg [98] also reported using cathode ray tube (CRT) display ter-
minals for taking automated patient histories.
Lindberg [90] introduced the addition of a seventh-place check digit to each
patient’s unique six-digit identification. The computer calculated the check digit
from the sum of the preceding six digits using the modulo-11 arithmetic. The check
digit helped to detect and prevent transmission of incorrect patient identification
numbers due to transcription errors by enabling the computer system to only accept
patient information with valid check digits.
In the 1970s, teams from 45 medical institutions in the United States and abroad
visited and inspected Lindberg’s system. Lindberg et al. distributed many copies of
their system and its design documents [87]. In 1984, Lindberg left the University of
Missouri – Columbia to become the Director of the U.S. National Library of
Medicine (NLM), where he became an international leader in medical informatics.
Medical informatics at the University of Missouri-Columbia continued under the
direction of J. Mitchell.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 353
In 1964, the Information Systems Division of the Lockheed Missiles and Space
Company in Sunnyvale, California, began to apply their aerospace expertise to
develop a Lockheed hospital information system. In 1969, the Lockheed manage-
ment decided to carry out the development of its information system in the El
Camino Hospital in Mountain View, California, a 464 bed, general community hos-
pital with a medical staff of 340 physicians without interns or resident physicians
[56, 57]. In 1971, Lockheed sold its system to the Technicon Corporation, which
had come to dominate automation in the clinical laboratory. The company’s new
owner, Whitehead, saw an opportunity to extend automation from the clinical labo-
ratory into the entire hospital and develop the Technicon Medical Information
System. In March 1971, El Camino Hospital signed a contract for the installation of
the Technicon HIS. The hospital information system operated with an IBM 370/155
time-shared computer located in Technicon’s Mountain View offices [132]. In
December 1971, the first step in installing the computer-based HIS brought the
Admissions Office at the El Camino Hospital online. Nine months later, the entire
hospital, with few exceptions, converted to using the system [165]. By early 1973,
the hospital had installed terminals throughout, and had abandoned most traditional
paperwork. Significant medical staff concerns developed. One third of the medical
staff initially expressed dissatisfaction [32]. Most of the medical staff concerns
focused on deficiencies in the initial system, and anticipated problems with altering
the traditional practice modes of fee-for-service physicians. Nevertheless, the nurs-
ing staff comprised the majority of the professional use of the system, and three-
fourths of hospital nurses reported favorably regarding the Technicon HIS. The
nurses specifically noted that they liked using the light-pen selectors on the display
terminals.
Considerable effort to refine the system’s basic operating features during 1975
and 1976 resulted in greater user acceptance [32]. System improvements included
better clinical support services and subsystems, improved laboratory test schedul-
354 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
ing, and the ability to order medications from the pharmacy. In 1977, a total of 60
display terminals, each consisting of a television screen with a light-pen data selec-
tor, a keyboard, and a printer were located throughout the El Camino Hospital; with
two terminals installed at most nursing stations. The terminal’s display screen pre-
sented lists of items, for example, a list of orders for laboratory tests. The user
selected a specific displayed item by pointing the light-pen at the desired word (or
phrase), and pressing a switch on the barrel of the pen. The Technicon HIS was one
of the first systems designed to allow the physicians to enter orders and review the
results [30].
Using the light-pen, a physician could select a specific patient, and then enter a
full set of medical orders for laboratory work, medications, x-rays, and other pro-
cedures. The computer then stored the orders and sent appropriate laboratory req-
uisitions, pharmacy labels, x-ray requisitions, and requests for other procedures to
the appropriate hospital departments. Some departments provided standard “rou-
tine” sets of orders, such as for patients admitted for coronary artery disease. In
addition, physicians could generate personal order sets for particular conditions
and write the complete order with a single light-pen selection [60]. By 1977, 75 %
of all orders were entered into the computer by the physicians. Physicians, nurses,
and other hospital personnel used the light-pen technique extensively, and employed
the keyboard only occasionally [72, 165]. Computer-produced printouts included
medication-due time lists, laboratory specimen-pickup time lists, cumulative test-
result summaries, radiology reports, and hospital discharge summaries [23].
Physicians, on retrieving a patient’s data from the display terminals, also received
clinical reminders and alerts. In 1978, El Camino developed a computer-based
library that contained information on diagnoses, recommended treatments, labora-
tory interpretation aids for test results, and indications for ordering diagnostic tests
for certain diseases. Laboratory test results and radiology interpretations were
available at the terminals as soon as someone entered them into the system. A daily
cumulative laboratory summary report showed the last 7 days of each patient’s
tests results [140].
At El Camino, paper-based medical charts existed to encompass all handwritten
and dictated documents. Physicians primarily used the Technicon system as an
order entry and results reporting system. Upon a patient’s discharge, the system
printed a complete listing of all tests and procedures results, including any graphic
charts, at the medical records department, to be filed in the patients’ paper charts.
El Camino Hospital physicians also developed a Medical Information Library
for the Technicon system designed to provide physicians with a comprehensive and
current collection of clinical diagnostic and therapeutic information. Physicians
could access this information from any display terminal in the hospital. In 1978, this
library contained information on effective antibiotics for specific organisms; anti-
psychotic agents; and recommended treatments; laboratory interpretation aids for
test results, for diagnosis, and for drug levels. For example, the library could pro-
vide a hyperlipemia workup with recommended tests and their interpretation; a
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 355
thyroid-radioisotope ordering aid; indications for ordering tests and therapy for
patients with pulmonary disease; and, an index to surgery articles with the capabil-
ity of printing out any indexed article [140].
The pharmacy received all drug orders as they were entered into the system, and
printed dispensing labels including known drug allergies. The system also provided
daily patient drug profiles of all medications being taken by each patient. Dietary
orders entered by physicians and nurses printed out in the dietician’s office prior to
each meal. The system supported all nursing functions, including nursing care
plans, charting, scheduling, and supply ordering.
Technicon developed an online database management system called MATRIX,
which allowed hospitals to modify their clinical applications to meet their own
needs locally [140]. About 30 % of patient discharge summaries were generated
from a sequence of displays, without requiring any dictation [165]. The patient’s file
was removed from computer disk storage 2 days after the patient’s discharge from
the hospital; and the file was then transferred to magnetic tape.
The Technicon MIS was installed also at the Ralph E. Davies Medical Center in
San Francisco in 1972; it operated via the Technicon regional time-sharing com-
puter center. In 1973, the first in-hospital Technicon computer installation occurred
at the Nebraska Methodist Hospital in Omaha. From Technicon’s second regional
center in Fairfield, New Jersey, Technicon next installed a system at St. Barnabas
Hospital in Livingston, New Jersey, and at the Maine Medical Center in Portland. In
1975, Technicon installed its system at the Clinical Center of the NIH, initially
operated from a time-shared computer at the Technicon Fairfield Center, but trans-
ferred later to the NIH computer facility in Bethesda, Maryland [71]. The El Camino
Hospital continued through the 1980s to operate with a time-shared computer.
In 1980, Revlon, Inc. acquired the Technicon Data Systems Corporation. It was
repurchased in 1986 by a new company, called TDS Healthcare Systems Corporation,
headed by Whitehead, the son of the founder of the Technicon Corporation. In 1987,
it announced its enhanced TDS 4000 system [35]. By 1986 the Technicon MIS had
been installed in about 40 hospitals [30]. By the end of the 1980s, there were 85
TDS system installations across the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom.
These installations included major teaching institutions such as New York
University, Temple University, Medical College of Virginia, University of Illinois,
Loyola, University of Chicago, Baylor University, and the University of California
at Irvine [71].
The Lockheed HIS, initiated in 1966, became the Technicon MIS in 1971 and the
TDS in 1986. It was probably the best commercially developed HIS in the United
States throughout the 1970s and 1980s. It had some deficiencies, such as a discon-
tinuous patient record that did not integrate patient data collected over multiple
admissions, and it did not support clinicians’ office automation. By the end of the
1980s, enhancements added to the TDS 4000 system partially corrected these
deficiencies. The modifications expanded the computerized patient record and pro-
vided linkages of the hospital system to attending physicians’ offices.
356 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
In 1965 Stobie [151] at Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, Michigan, reported begin-
ning the implementation of an HIS with files for some medical applications in addi-
tion to administrative and business functions.
Financial management systems are essential for every HIS administration. Zucker
[174] at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center reported that their HIS began
operation in 1964 with an administrative management system that included a patient
admission and discharge application, accounts receivable, patient invoices, financial
reports, payroll, and personnel files.
In 1966, Barnett and associates at the Laboratory of Computer Science (LCS) initi-
ated a pilot project in the Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) for a computer-
based, clinical laboratory reporting system. The LCS was a unit of the Department
of Medicine of the MGH and the Harvard Medical School. Barnett [15, 16] reported
that the MGH system enabled entering and printing of any selected groupings of
laboratory test results. Weekly summaries appeared in a format designed by the
users that displayed tests in associated groups, such as by serum electrolytes or by
hematology.
In 1967, Barnett also developed a medications ordering system at the
MGH. Every hour on each MGH patient care unit, the computer generated a list of
medications to be administered at that hour. By 1974, the system encompassed
clinical laboratory and medication order functions, and modules for hematology,
pathology, x-ray scheduling, x-ray film folder inventory control, and x-ray report-
ing. These modules were all written in the MUMPS language (MGH Utility Multi-
Programming System), an operating system developed at MGH [17, 22, 65]. The
modules were implemented on several different vendors’ computer systems, but
were functionally identical. Barnett’s MGH system soon expanded into nine
patient care areas covering about 300 beds, and three laboratories in the hospital.
It used more than 100 standard model Teletype terminals. Computer programs
were interactive, whereby the computer asked a question and the user entered a
response.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 357
Barnett recognized that the order entry systems generally available at that time
allowed the physicians to write their orders and notes in the routine fashion, and
then use clerical personnel to enter the information into the computer system. He
felt that the inherent weakness in this strategy was that the computer interaction was
then not with the physician who was generating the order, but with a clerical staff
member who had no decision making power [19]. The Teletype terminals could
support interactive order entry by any healthcare worker. Nevertheless, Barnett [15,
19] was reluctant to use clerical personnel to enter physician’s orders. He believed
that physicians should enter orders so as to not eliminate the system’s clinical deci-
sion support capabilities. Physicians were most qualified to benefit from feedback
from a system that checked their orders for completeness, accuracy, and acceptabil-
ity of an order. An online, interactive system could check an order against the data
in the computer record for drug-drug interactions, for drug-laboratory test value
interactions, or known allergic reactions to drugs. If this information was not given
back immediately to the physician at the time of the creation of the order, Barnett
felt that it was less useful. He believed that if there was a significant time delay
between the writing of the order and its entry into the computer system, the respon-
sible physician might have left the care unit and any needed clarification of the order
would then be more difficult and time-consuming to obtain.
In 1971, the Massachusetts General Hospital initiated a nurse-practitioner proj-
ect to allow nurses access to computer-stored medical records. Using a video termi-
nal with a light-pen data selector, after entering the patient’s identification number,
a nurse could retrieve and review current medication orders, recent progress notes,
and laboratory test results. Nursing progress notes were entered by selecting appro-
priate data items from a series of displayed frames. A Teletype printer could print
out a data flow sheet for that office visit. The project used the computer and software
of Barnett’s Laboratory of Computer Science at MGH [60]. In 1971 Barnett also
initiated the Computer-Stored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) system for the
Harvard Community Health Plan (HCHP) in Boston. Health professionals in their
offices manually completed paper-based structured encounter forms at the time of
each patient visit. Printed templates were used for the first visit, and then computer-
generated forms for subsequent visits. On these forms, the physicians recorded
diagnoses, orders for tests, and treatments. Clerks, using remote terminals con-
nected by telephone lines to the computer located at the Laboratory of Computer
Science, entered completed forms that had been collected in the medical record
room. After the entry of new data into the patient’s record, the system generated a
an updated status report summarizing the patient’s current information, including
current medications and latest laboratory test results. Barnett [14] wrote that in its
design and implementation, a central objective of COSTAR was to provide
information-processing support for communication of laboratory, x-ray, and elec-
trocardiogram reports. COSTAR operated under the MUMPS language. By the late
1970s, COSTAR had gone through four revisions in its system design at the HCHP
[18]. By the end of the 1980s, the COSTAR system was widely disseminated in the
United States, being used in more than 120 sites [13].
358 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
Ausman and associates [2] at Roswell Park Memorial Institute in Buffalo, New York,
reported in 1966 a prototype HIS operating in one 42-bed nursing station that pro-
vided care to patients with malignant diseases. They collected all data for the
patient’s history and nurses’ and physicians’ notes on punched cards or by tran-
scription to punched paper tape for entry into the computer.
In 1966, the Monmouth Medical Center Hospital in Long Branch, New Jersey
installed a system with an IBM 360/30 computer and using similar matrix-button
input terminals. These input terminals, along with keyboard typewriters, were
located in 14 nursing stations, admitting office, business office, pharmacy, labora-
tory, x-ray, dietary, central supply, and operating-room supervisor’s office [113].
ward, one in surgery, one in the conference room for demonstration purposes and
system development, one in the pharmacy, and one in the x-ray department [51].
The terminals could display 1,000 characters of information in 20 lines of 50 char-
acters each, and had 20 touch-sensitive fields. The user selected an item by touching
the screen at the position of that choice. The user could enter textual data by typing
on the keyboard attached to the terminal. Weed’s basic approach to using PROMIS
was through a collection of computer-based clinical displays called “frames”, which
helped to guide and teach the health professionals who interacted with the system as
they entered the patient’s data. Physicians’ entries were stored in the patient’s
record. The system branched to various decision points where the physician could
elect courses of action selected from the stored frames, or selected other appropriate
action [121].
Weed [168] described the prototype system after it had been in operation for
almost 4 years in the gynecology ward, and for 6 months on a general medical ward.
The system at that time supported 30 touch-sensitive display terminals connected to
a single minicomputer. Each user had a distinct password, which allowed access to
data in accordance with the user’s classification. After health care professionals
selected a patient from a ward census, they chose one of four actions: (1) the
DataBase, (2) Problem Formulation, (3) Initial Plans, or (4) Progress Notes to add
to or retrieve specific parts of the patient’s record. A nurse usually entered into the
database the patient’s chief complaint, the patient’s profile, general appearance, and
vital signs. The patient could enter a self-administered inventory-by-systems his-
tory, which included a series of up to 275 questions. After completion of the first
DataBase phase, clinicians entered physical examination findings using up to 1,410
branching displays. Next, the physician formulated the patient’s problems by mak-
ing a series of selections from displays that contained frames and tables. Excluding
the initial DataBase section, every entry into a patient’s computer-based record was
associated with a particular patient problem. An Initial Plan was entered for each
problem, followed by intermittent Progress Notes. The system contained problem-
specific information for more than 700 disease entities. The above four sections
comprised the basic electronic record for each patient. No written records were
maintained in parallel [168].
By 1979, PROMIS used a network of minicomputers [131] and contained more
than 45,000 frames and tables that structured the decisions and actions of health
care providers [52]. By the early 1980s, Weed et al. had a well-developed software
system for generating and displaying frames. Application programming was done
entirely by the PROMIS staff. Programmers used a special-purpose language, called
PROMIS Programming Language (PPL). The PPL supported functions specific to
PROMIS, such as interacting with touch-screen terminals [51].
On a single ward at the University of Vermont Hospital where PROMIS had been
implemented from 1971 to 1975, a vote took place on the gynecology service. All
of the nurses and a majority of the house officers, who were the primary users of the
system, voted to keep it. However, attending physicians voted eight to six to discon-
tinue its use [118]. In a 1979 evaluation of PROMIS, supported by the NCHSR, a
study compared two similar wards at the Vermont Medical Center Hospital. One
360 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
ward used PROMIS. The control ward used a manual, paper-based, problem-
oriented medical record. Compared to the manual system, PROMIS provided
slightly better documentation. No significant differences occurred in the mean cost
of provided patient services or in the time physicians spent using the two record
systems. The study noted that the PROMIS developers believed that effective and
committed leadership was an essential need for PROMIS to succeed [152].
Subsequent evaluations of PROMIS showed that nurses accepted PROMIS more
readily than did doctors. The physicians felt coerced rather than attracted to using
the system. They believed they were expected to adapt to the system rather than the
converse [54]. A similar sentiment was that PROMIS users perceived that they were
working for the system rather than vice versa [30]. In 1981, when Weed’s grants
expired, a group of PROMIS developers formed PROMIS Information Systems,
and continued the system’s development activities in South Burlington, Vermont. Its
marketing unit, PROMIS Health Care Systems, established its headquarters in
1984 in Concord, California [114]. In the mid-1980s Weed began to develop a series
of commercially available computer programs that he called “problem-knowledge
couplers” to apply his methods in the care of specific medical problems [169].
Although PROMIS, as a system, failed to gain general acceptance, Weed’s influ-
ence on HISs and the conceptual organization of the patient record was substantial.
The PROMIS system was one of the first to use in-hospital network linkages, and
pioneered use of touch screen technology long before commercial touchscreens
were generally available. Weed [166] had defined methods for recording data in a
problem-oriented medical record (POMR). He continually emphasized that the
whole thrust of PROMIS was to first create the structures and the four phases of
medical action. From that basis, one could then determine what basic data was
needed to make first approximations, calculate probabilities as experience accumu-
lated, modify the approximations, and slowly create a better plan. Blum [30] lauded
PROMIS as a complete and well-organized medical record system with a sophisti-
cated user interface; but observed that no major hospital was using PROMIS for the
main reason that PROMIS users perceived that the system was too controlling.
In 1968, Siegel [133], at the New York-Downstate Medical Center described a hos-
pital information system (HIS) that used an IBM 1440-1410 computer complex
connected to 40 remote typewriter-terminal printers. They entered data using
punched cards, paper tape, and IBM 1092 matrix-overlay keyboards; and they used
magnetic tape and disk for data storage. Terminals were placed in the specialty clin-
ics, as well as in the clinical laboratories, radiology, pharmacy, and central stores.
Their initial hospital applications included patient admission-discharge-bed assign-
ment, outpatient appointment scheduling, accounting and administrative functions,
and developing an electronic medical records system.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 361
In 1969, Jelliffe and associates [75] at the University of Southern California School
of Medicine initiated at the Los Angeles County General Hospital a series of pro-
grams for clinical pharmacology to analyze dosage requirements for a variety of
medications, antibiotics, and inhalational anesthetics. In 1972, programs were
added to analyze data from their cardiac catheterization laboratory, from echocar-
diograms, and from the pulmonary-function laboratory.
In 1969, the Beth Israel Hospital in Boston began an ambulatory patient care
project, funded by grants from the U.S. Department of Health, Education, and
Welfare. Slack and associates [135, 137, 138] described the project’s objectives as
to develop computer-supported, problem-oriented protocols to help non-physi-
cian practitioners to provide care for patients who had common medical prob-
lems, such as headaches, low back pain, upper-respiratory infections, and
362 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
In 1970, the Johns Hopkins Hospital (JHH) initiated a prototype HIS to process
physicians’ written orders, produce work lists for ward nurses, and generate daily
computer-printed, patient drug profiles for the patients’ records. In 1975, a
“Minirecord” (minimal essential record) system was also initiated for an outpatient
information system (OIS) in the JHH Medical Clinics. The latter used encounter
forms with an area for recording medications and procedures. Forms were filled out
at each patient visit [101]. Work also began on a prototype Oncology Clinical
Information System (OCIS) for their cancer patients. The OCIS contained patient
care data for both hospital and clinic services, and also captured clinical laboratory
test results and pharmacy data [29, 31, 76].
In 1976, the JHH implemented a radiology reporting system using a terminal that
permitted the radiologist to select phrases with which to compose descriptions and
interpretations for their x-ray reports. Its output was a computer-printed report that
became available as soon as the radiologist completed his report [170]. By 1978, a
clinical laboratory information system was also operational, which supported the
internal working processes for the laboratory, and also produced the patient’s cumu-
lative laboratory report [76]. During the 1980s, a network gradually evolved in the
JHH information system. By 1986, the JHH system included IBM 3081 and 3083
computers that also supported an inpatient pharmacy system with a unit dose distri-
bution system. The radiology system and clinical laboratory system ran on three
PDP 11/70 computers [155].
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 363
In 1972, Grams and associates at the University of Florida in Gainesville and the
500-bed Shands Hospital, with its outpatient clinic and emergency room, began to
formulate a computer-based laboratory information system that provided some clin-
ical decision support capabilities. Initially the system did not have any reporting
capabilities. The test results were manually recorded on a cumulative report form.
In 1975, a single computer began to service their subsystems for hospital admis-
sions functions, the clinical laboratory, anatomic pathology, microscopy, and blood
banking. In 1977, they installed a network to integrate their laboratory functions,
hospital admissions service, and nursing stations. They used one computer for the
nursing and admissions functions, and linked it to a second computer in the
laboratory.
In 1973, McDonald and associates at the Regenstrief Institute for Health Care and
the Indiana University School of Medicine developed the Regenstrief Medical
Record (RMR) system for the care of ambulatory patients. It was initially installed
in the diabetes clinic of Wishard Memorial Hospital in Indianapolis. By 1977, the
general medicine clinics, the renal clinic, and two community-based clinics located
three miles from the central computer site had been added. The system supported
electronic medical records for 19,000 ambulatory patients who had 40,000 office
visits per year [109]. The RMR system was intended to complement, rather than to
replace, the paper-based patient record. For each patient served, RMR contained a
core medical record, which included patient data such as treatment records; and
reports from laboratory tests, x-ray studies, and electrocardiograms. By 1982,
RMR’s medical database contained 60,000 patients’ records, of variable length,
with the data coded or stored as free-text narrative reports.
The RMR system used a PDP11/45 computer, which ran under the RSTS/E oper-
ating system. The computer programs were initially written in BASIC-PLUS. The
system provided time-sharing services 24 h per day, 7 days per week. The RMR
database contained the medical record file and RMR’s associated language,
CARE. Patients’ records within the medical record file contained patient data that
was most often stored in a coded (structured) format, although some free-text entry
occurred. Patients records were of fixed-field and fixed-format; that is, within a
given file, all records had the same length. Correspondingly, data fields appeared in
the same location in every patient’s record [103]. A set of utility programs supported
storing, editing, sorting, and reporting data, as well as aggregate batch-processing
364 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
and administrative analyses. Database files existed for the clinical laboratory sub-
system, the pharmacy subsystem, the patient registry file, patient appointments, the
physician registry, and physicians’ schedules. A metathesaurus provided a diction-
ary of terms. It defined the kinds of data that could be stored in the medical record
files.
The RMR system initially focused on supporting physicians’ decision making in
the office. It presented clinical information in compact reports, and reminded physi-
cians about clinical conditions requiring corrective action. For each patient, the
RMR produced three reports that constituted a core medical record, and/or provided
protocol-based feedback “reminders” or “alerts” to the physician about important
clinical conditions [107]. Physician-authored protocols controlled generation of
these computer reminders and alerts. Each protocol defined the clinical condition
(trigger), and the content of the corresponding reminder that would result when trig-
gered [104].
McDonald et al. [109] reported that the RMR system used paper-based reports,
rather than visual displays as its primary mechanism for transmitting information to
the physician, as this mode of data transfer was preferred since it was inexpensive,
portable, easier to browse, and paper reports could be annotated by pencil. In addi-
tion to printing paper encounter forms to be used for the next patient visit, the RMR
system provided cumulative summary reports of the information stored in the
computer-based patient record [109]. With the time-oriented view of the patient’s
data, the physician could readily find and compare the most recent data to prior data,
such as for repeated laboratory tests. An asterisk appeared beside each abnormal
value for emphasis.
For most patients, an electronic paper-chart abstract formed the initial body of
the computer-based record. In the RMR system, clinical laboratory information was
acquired directly from the laboratory computer system. The pharmacy prescription
information was captured from both the hospital and outpatient pharmacy systems.
For each patient’s return visit a patient summary report was generated which
included historical and treatment information; and reports from laboratories, radiol-
ogy, electrocardiography, and nuclear medicine in a modified flow sheet format. At
each subsequent encounter visit, additional data were added to the record electroni-
cally. A two-part patient encounter form was generated for each patient’s return
visit. The physician could readily identify the returning patient, note the active
problems from the last visit, and see the active treatment profile. The physician
recorded numeric clinical data, such as weight and blood pressure, for later optical
machine reading into the computer. The problem list was updated by drawing a line
through problems that had been resolved and by writing in new problems that had
arisen. Progress notes were entered in the space beside the problem list; and a space
was also provided for writing orders for tests and for return appointments. Essential
information from hospital stays, such as diagnoses, was transferred from hospital
case abstract tapes. A space was provided on the form for writing orders for tests.
Within the space for orders, the computer suggested certain tests that might be
needed. The patient’s current prescriptions were listed at the bottom of the encoun-
ter form in a medication profile. The physician refilled (by writing “R”) or discon-
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 365
tinued (by writing “D/C”) after each drug, and wrote new prescriptions underneath
this prescription list. The patients took a carbon copy of this section of the encounter
form to the pharmacy as their prescription. Thus the encounter form performed
many recording and retrieving tasks for the physician. Data recorded by physicians
on the encounter forms were entered into the computer by clerks.
The patient summary report was the second report generated for each patient’s
return visit. This report included laboratory data, historical information, treatment,
radiology, EKG, nuclear medicine, and other data in a modified flow sheet format
[107]. It also listed the patient’s clinic, hospital, and emergency room visits and the
results of x-ray and laboratory tests, with test results presented in reverse chrono-
logical order. With this time-oriented view of the data, the physician could quickly
find the most recent data (for example, blood pressure or blood glucose) and com-
pare them to the previous levels. The objective of the patient’s summary report was
to facilitate data retrieval and to perform some data-organization tasks for the
physician.
The patient’s surveillance report was the third report generated for each patient’s
return visit. This report represented the most sophisticated processing of data in the
OIS, and assisted the physician in clinical decision making. McDonald et al. [109]
developed a computer program called CARE, which permitted non-programmers to
perform complex queries of the medical records. It could also provide health care
practitioners with aspects of clinical decision support for the diagnosis or treatment
of a patient, as well as some quality assurance metrics regarding care delivery. The
patient’s surveillance report contained statements that served as clinical reminders
to physicians regarding diagnostic studies or treatments. These statements were pro-
grammed by physicians in terms of, “IF-THEN-ELSE statements” called “proto-
cols” that were written in the CARE language [109]. In 1 year, the CARE program
generated more than 70,000 reminders for 30,000 patient visits [108].
In the early 1980s, the RMR system contained medical records for more than
60,000 patients, with data regarding inpatient, outpatient, and emergency room care
[104]. The shared clinical laboratory and pharmacy systems used a microcomputer-
based workstation to display forms on “windows.” The user could enter data using
a mouse to select data from menus such as problem lists [106]. McDonald applied
the term gopher work to the functions of recording, retrieving, organizing, and
reviewing data. In the 1980s, the RMR system was operational in the general medi-
cal clinic and in the diabetes clinic, and included a hospital and a pharmacy
module.
In the early 1980s, the RMR system shared a DEC VAX 11/780 computer
between the clinical laboratory and pharmacy systems, and used a microcomputer-
based workstation to display forms, in which the user could enter data using a mouse
to select data from menus [108]. By the mid-1980s, any patient seen by the General
Medicine Service in the emergency room, in the outpatient clinics, or in the hospital
wards had been registered with the Regenstrief computer-based medical record sys-
tem. After a patient was registered, the computer record included most of the
patient’s diagnostic studies, treatments, hospital discharge and clinic visit diagno-
ses, problems lists, imaging studies, EKGs, and laboratory and medication data that
366 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
In 1976, Hammond and Stead at Duke University Medical Center began to develop
The Medical Record (TMR). The Duke University hospital used an IBM computer
with display terminals located in the hospital nursing stations for obstetrics patients.
When a pregnant woman entered the hospital, the hospital system sent a message to
the TMR system, and the patient’s prenatal record was transferred into the hospital’s
computer-stored record [66]. The initial Duke HIS transmitted the outpatient prena-
tal records to the inpatient obstetrics department when a woman in labor was admit-
ted [68].
In 1983, TMR was installed in the Kenneth Norris Cancer Research Hospital that
had a 60-bed inpatient service and an outpatient clinic. To satisfy the requirements
for this hospital information system, TMR was modified to conform with this hos-
pital’s admission and discharge functions, billing and claims processing, and
24-h-a-day patient encounters [148, 149]. In 1984, the Duke HIS serviced 52 nurs-
ing stations with an aggregate of 1,008 beds. It was linked to 18 clinical service
departments and 64 specimen laboratories [149]. Microcomputers were used as
departmental workstations linked to the central computer. By 1985, the Duke TMR
system had increased in size to require a local area network (LAN); and it was also
linked to its clinical laboratory system by an Ethernet connection so that the labora-
tory could query a patient’s record directly on the main TMR system through the
network [67, 147].
The TMR system became a prototype for IBM’s Patient Care System (PCS) for
obstetrics patients. In 1976, a prototype of IBM’s Patient Care System (PCS) began
to be implemented as a joint project with Stead and Hammond’s group in Durham.
The Duke HIS ran on an IBM 3033 computer with IBM’s IMS database manage-
ment system and its CICS terminal handler. It used IBM 3278 visual displays with
light-pen selectors, and terminals were available at each nursing station and in each
service department. It stored all clinical information in its database and was inter-
faced with Duke’s outpatient information system using Duke’s The Medical Record
(TMR). In 1987, the Duke HIS central computer was upgraded to an IBM 3090-200
that serviced 550 display terminals. It used an application generator program called
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 367
At the end of the 1970s, Maturi and DuBois [100] conducted a survey for the
National Center for Health Services Research (NCHSR) of the state of commer-
cially available, hospital department-specific information systems, including their
relationship to hospital-wide communication systems. The department-specific
applications that they reviewed were medical record room functions (tracking
charts, coding diseases, and similar record librarian activities), laboratory, radiol-
ogy, and pharmacy systems. The survey did not include computer-based patient
records or general clinical applications. They reported that the department-specific
systems were usually acquired by the hospital before a hospital-wide communica-
tion system was in place. However, many department-specific systems soon became
part of a network as industry provided expanded interfacing capabilities. This trend
which encouraged development of distributed systems involving department-spe-
cific and hospital-wide systems.
Young and associates [173] at the University of Southern California also con-
ducted a survey of minicomputer-based HISs in medium-sized hospitals (those with
100–300 beds). They identified 75 different applications that were grouped into five
levels in steps of complexity comprising a modular implementation of a HIS. All
hospitals had step-1 applications which included billing and accounting, payroll,
and inpatient census), and step-2 applications that included admission-discharge-
transfer, patient-record data collection, patient identification-number assignment,
general ledger interface, and credit and collections. Only about one-half of the hos-
pitals had step-3 applications that used online data entry terminals for order-entry,
message communication, patient’s identification number retrieval, discharge
abstract preparation, and various inventory applications. Less than one-fourth had
step-4 applications, which included patient identification-number assignment, dis-
charge analysis and reports, clinical laboratory worksheets and schedules, budget
preparation and expense reports, and labor time collection. Few hospitals in this
survey had step-5 applications with two-way data transmission and clinical func-
tions which included test results reporting, medical chart reports, personnel history,
and utilization review. They concluded that, as of that date, the smaller HISs based
on minicomputers fell short of the more sophisticated HISs in larger hospitals with
mainframe computers. The larger systems provided a greater variety of patient care
and clinical applications.
In the early 1970s, Ball authored a series of reviews of the status of the vendor
systems that attempted to provide comprehensive HIS services. Brief descriptions
of those vendors follow. Biomedical Computer Services focused on the medical
record and used a variety of computers linked to touch-screen terminals. The Control
368 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
As increasing competition resulted from the new hardware and software that
evolved in the late 1970s and 1980s, vendor-provided HISs underwent constant
changes. Correspondingly, the dramatis personae of HIS vendors evolved and
diversified.
Many fields of scientific inquiry and engineering begin with isolated pioneers work-
ing “in the wilderness” before next-generation concepts evolve through sharing of
ideas. The foregoing history of the early HISs exemplifies this pattern. The cross-
institutional history of ADT design and evolution follows below as an example of
how shared ideas across institutions accelerated progress after the early days of the
isolated pioneers.
Admission, discharge, and transfer (ADT) functions are used when a patient enters
a hospital. The hospital admitting department has usually received from the refer-
ring physician a tentative diagnosis and a request for admission to an appropriate
nursing unit, such as to medicine, surgery, obstetrics, pediatrics, or other specialty
units. The ADT functions, and billing and accounting, were among the earliest HIS
applications. ADT functions included patient identification, preparation of identifi-
cation wristbands, and bed management capabilities that supported admission to a
nursing unit. As in any MIS, the entry of a patient to the HIS required a set of iden-
tification data that included the patient’s name, gender, birthdate, and the assign-
ment of a unique medical record number that served as the basic linkage for all the
computer-processed patient data, so that data generated by every service received
by the patient during the hospital stay could be linked and stored in the patient’s
computer-based record. After the admitting office had notified the appropriate nurs-
ing unit of the admission of the patient, the ADT system (or the nursing unit in some
cases) assigned the patient to a suitable room and bed. The ADT system maintained
a record of bed assignments, of any transfers of patients to other beds, and of
patients’ discharges from the hospital. ADT had to notify all relevant hospital
departments of any changes in bed assignments, since laboratory personnel, for
example, had to be kept informed where to find patients in order to collect blood
specimens and where to send test results. The ADT system maintained a registry of
all hospital patients and prepared a variety of patient census and management
reports, including periodic listings of admissions and discharges, and listings of
patients by nursing units. ADT bed control and census reports monitored the
370 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
number of patients in the hospital, their clinical service, their nursing unit with
patient’s bed locations, and their attending physicians. Patients were often trans-
ferred to different nursing units, such as when a medical patient required an opera-
tion and became a surgical patient. Housekeeping services were notified when a bed
was vacated to prepare the bed for the next patient.
The earliest admission, discharge, and transfer (ADT) systems in the 1950s used
paper forms and punch cards to enter data. In the early 1960s, some hospitals used
keyboards with rows of push-button precoded keys to enter data into their comput-
ers, including the patient admission data, as was reported at Children’s Hospital in
Akron, Ohio [45]. With the advent of visual display terminals in the 1960s, data
were entered by keyboard and were displayed for verification and retrieval. On
April 1, 1966, Boston’s Children’s Hospital claimed to have the first ADT system
with display terminals in the United States [42, 139]. In the fall of 1966,
Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) initiated its own ADT system [64]. Both of
these systems were similar in that they used visual display terminals with keyboards
for data entry and teletypewriters for printers in the admitting office, which com-
municated to 16 terminals at the nursing stations in the Children’s Hospital, and to
nine terminals in the nursing units in the MGH. In both hospitals, ADT had links to
the clinical laboratory for communication of admitting laboratory test orders and for
collection of test samples; and both provided similar comprehensive ADT functions
with associated reports.
Elsewhere, Dunn [47] at the Henry Ford Hospital, reported beginning to use a
computer as a communication system for ADT functions to relieve the large back-
log of patients waiting for admission to the hospital. Wood [171] at the Massachusetts
Eye and Ear Infirmary in Boston, reported a computer-based ADT system pro-
grammed to schedule patient admissions 2 months in advance of elective surgery
procedures. A physician’s request for admission of a patient resulted in the
completion of a preadmission form with the names of the physician and the patient,
the patient’s diagnosis and anticipated surgical procedure, the time needed for the
procedure and the anesthesia requirements, and the anticipated length of the patient’s
stay in the hospital. These data were punched into cards and entered into the com-
puter. Using statistical data accumulated at the hospital from past years, the com-
puter estimated: (1) the number of beds to be available on any given day; and (2) a
projection of the total number of beds to be available on a given day 2 months in the
future. The discharge functions of the HIS ADT program were activated when a
nursing unit notified the ADT system that the physician had entered the order for a
patient’s discharge from the hospital. This affected the ADT bed control and census
data, and initiated requests for any other discharge instructions for the patient, such
as medications to take home or follow-up ambulatory visits and procedures.
Discharge instructions for a patient’s home care were taken over generally by the
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 371
tive handling of data elements; and (6) permit manipulation of data, and its retrieval
in a useful format.
Barnett [15] described the functions of an HIS from the viewpoint of its various
users. To the physician, a HIS should provide accurate and legible communication
of reports; reliable scheduling of procedures; and timely, precise implementation of
activities ordered for patients’ care. To the nurse, a HIS should lighten the load of
communications, and of preparing requisitions, and of transcribing and charting
patients’ information. To the administrator, a HIS should help to use resources more
effectively, help to gather the data necessary for appropriate decisions, and to ensure
that the information necessary for the patient billing process was readily available
and accurate. To the medical research investigator, a HIS should offer the potential
of a database of patient care activities that was not only accurate, but was also orga-
nized so data could be retrieved and analyzed easily. Barnett [21] further grouped
the functional components of HISs into four generic forms: (1) the transactional
system that is primarily concerned with financial management; (2) the ancillary
support systems aimed at improving the information-related activities of individual
administrative subsystems including patient identification, business and financial,
inventory management, admission, discharge, and transfer (ADT), and bed census;
patient and staff scheduling; dietary services; utilization review, and quality assur-
ance; patient record systems; clinical specialty subsystems; outpatient clinics; nurs-
ing services; clinical support systems; service units such as the clinical laboratory,
pharmacy, (3) the communications system that focuses on transmitting data among
various personnel in different clinical support units of the hospital; and (4) the over-
all system that integrates information from all shared databases related to patient
care.
Blois [27] defined the functions of a HIS as including: (1) data processing involv-
ing a single hospital or medical function related to the management of a given
patient; (2) data communication from one location to another for patient care; and
(3) studies involving compilations of data for research purposes. Spencer [141]
described information processing in a general hospital as comprising the admission
process, the evaluation of the patient status, the need for identification of various
diagnostic and therapeutic problems, the ordering of patient care events, the
coordination of those events by the physician and other professionals, and the peri-
odic evaluation of changes in the patient’s status. Finally, there was the need for
discharge care planning, outcome evaluation, and patient disposition. Surveillance
of how the care system was performing for quality assurance was based on informa-
tion on patients’ needs and outcomes. Lincoln [86] described the general activities
of the various departments of a hospital as functioning both as individuals and as
part of a team focused on the care of each patient. Services by these departments
were provided by care units, such as the nursing stations and emergency rooms; the
demand for these services was generated primarily by physicians concerned with
the patients’ problems. The informational tools of a hospital were its medical
records which stored data on the procedures provided to patients.
As the general goal for a HIS, Collen [37–41] advocated that HISs use computers
and communications equipment to collect, store, process, retrieve, and communi-
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 373
cate patient care and administrative information for all activities and functions
within the hospital, its outpatient medical offices, its clinical support services (labo-
ratories, radiology, pharmacy, and others), and to communicate to and from any of
its affiliated medical facilities. Such an integrated information system should have
the abilities for communicating and integrating all patient data during the patient’s
lifetime of health care, and should provide appropriate clinical and administrative
decision support. More specifically, the HIS functional requirements included the
ability to: (1) Establish files and communicate information for identification and
scheduling of patients and personnel; establish a database for business and admin-
istrative functions; and provide administrative decision support. (2) Provide an inte-
grated computer-based patient record that had a high utility for the individual patient
and for all involved health care professionals. (3) Facilitate entry of all orders for
patient care, and display all results from ordered tests and procedures. Support nurs-
ing functions, and monitor the prescribing and administering of prescribed medica-
tions. Communicate patient data to-and-from all health care professionals,
to-and-from the patient’s computer-based medical record, and to-and-from all clini-
cal support services (such as the laboratory and radiology). (4) Establish a database
that can support clinical, epidemiological, and health services research; and satisfy
legal requirements for patient data confidentiality and security. (5) Provide to health
care professionals appropriate clinical decision support, including reminders and
warning alerts of potential adverse events; and support utilization-review and
quality-assurance procedures. (6) Have the capacity for an increasing number of
patients and personnel, and for progressive expansion of the health care system’s
components. (7) Support continuing education of staff and patients; and provide
linkage to outside bibliographic databases such as the NLM’s MEDLINE. (8)
Assure system reliability for 24-h a day, 7 days a week, year-round.
Lindberg [89] described HIS technical requirements, specifications, and system
designs as needing to fully meet the administrative and clinical requirements of HIS
users. He advised that if an HIS was well-designed to function in its medical require-
ments, it would by default supply much of the information required for hospital
management. However, the reverse was not true, since a system designed to do
administrative and business functions could rarely be converted into doing anything
clinically meaningful. The hardware and software specifications for a comprehen-
sive HIS always included a patient-record database, a variety of linked databases
with specialized data sets, and a database management system.
The database management system was designed to support hospital administrative-
level functions and departmental service functions, as well as to satisfy the clinical
requirements of all health professionals (doctors, nurses, technicians). A manage-
ment system configuration needed to be designed to operate all applications and
subsystem modules so as to create and maintain functionally separate subsystem
databases for managerial, clinical, operational, and investigational activities (for
example, for utilization review and quality assurance, for operational clinical sub-
specialties and disease registries, and for research and ad hoc investigational stud-
ies); and to integrate all the data generated for each patient into a patients’ medical
records database and provide computer-based patients’ records with format and con-
374 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
tent that satisfied the health care professionals in the hospital. The patient record
database needed to be large enough to store all data entered for every patient during
their stay in the hospital, including all essential medical data from prior hospitaliza-
tions. Basic was the need to integrate all HIS data and to make relevant active data
available at the user interface to avoid the need for repetitious re-entry of the same
data. The computer system analysts who were designing the HIS with a computer-
based patient record had to satisfy the clinician’s requirements for an integrated
display or printout of any part or all of the data in a patient’s record. Thus, the engi-
neer had to design one computer-stored database to contain all of the patient’s data;
or provide an integrating database-management system that would bring together all
the patient’s data that had been originally collected and stored in multiple, subsys-
tems, distributed databases; and present to the clinician what appeared to be an inte-
grated patient record. The user would not need to know how this task was performed
by the system, as long as the patient’s medical record data that was displayed or
printed did indeed present all the relevant data in an integrated and usable format.
Data quality control procedures need to be instituted for every HIS – with data
error-checking techniques, and validity limits for physiological and test procedure
measurements. A HIS needed to be designed so that computer-based patient data
would comply with legal regulations for patient data confidentiality and security at
least equal to those applied to paper-based patient records in the traditional hospital
record room. Since many patient care functions in a hospital needed an online com-
munications system with essentially 100 % reliability, the HIS needed to have: an
uninterruptible electric power supply, an appropriate mix of backup equipment for
replacement of failed components, and backup procedures to permit an acceptable,
even if degraded, mode of operation until the full normal operating system was
restored. With the advent of low cost minicomputers, maintaining duplicate comput-
ers for essential functions became a common backup mode. A backup system capable
of the prompt reconstruction of a patient record by the linkage to, and the integration
of information from distributed databases to always be able to provide an integrated
electronic patient record from distributed databases, was an important requirement.
The detailed functional and technical requirements for a HIS were given to sys-
tems analysts and engineers, who then developed a set of detailed computer and
communications technical specifications and a system design [62]. These were fol-
lowed with plans for a HIS that hopefully would satisfy the users’ specified needs.
The HIS was then built either in-house or purchased from a vendor, and installed
and operated in accordance with its functional and technical specifications. Human
factors studies have demonstrated that meeting technical requirements is a neces-
sary but not a sufficient condition to guarantee successful HIS installation.
More difficult was the automation of a more complex function such as collecting
and storing a patient’s medical history. (3) Very difficult was constructing a complex
function such as a medical database. (4) The most difficult was developing the
highly complex medical information and database management system for a
hospital.
The daunting complexity of a large hospital and the enormous number of func-
tional and technical requirements for a comprehensive HIS were clearly evidenced by
the relative lack of major achievements in the development of HISs during the early
decades of medical informatics in the United States. Although successful subsystems
were implemented for hospital administrative and business functions, as well as for
some clinical departmental subsystems (such as nursing, clinical laboratory, and
pharmacy), patient care clinical subsystems and the integrated computer-based patient
record were still only incomplete prototypes that satisfied few physicians.
In the 1960s users of large mainframe, time-sharing computers began to provide
services for some applications of information processing in hospitals, almost exclu-
sively for hospital business and administrative functions. In the 1970s lower-cost
minicomputers introduced the capabilities of locating smaller, special purpose com-
puters in various hospital departments; they supported some clinical applications
using display terminals located at nursing stations. In the 1980s, LANs permitted
users of multiple, inexpensive microcomputers to interface with various individual
local databases. Computers in affiliated hospitals began to use communication net-
works to link their information systems. By the end of the 1980s, large HISs with
more advanced database management systems generally used a mix of large mini-
and microcomputers linked by LANs, and some supported large numbers of clinical
workstations and bedside terminals.
The major developmental work on early clinical applications of electronic patient
record (EPR) systems and HISs were carried out primarily in academic centers, as
described above. The successful academic prototypes were then acquired by vendors
and marketed. As was the case for most medical technology in the United States,
innovation followed funding. When federal funding decreased following the 1970s
and 1980s, EPR and HIS development in academic centers decreased, and commer-
cial EPR and HIS system development increased.
With the evolution of automated generation of summaries of electronic patient
records and of electronic claims reporting as an automatic byproduct of EPR sys-
tems, patient care transactions, and data from a patient’s different records of ser-
vices received from a variety of separate healthcare providers would need to be
linked by a common patient identification (ID) number. In the past, each health care
provider assigned to each patient a different ID number. It would be ideal to give
every person a unique health record ID number for nationwide use, and that would
not be the same as the Social Security number. If pragmatists and economists were
to prevail in using the Social Security number for health records, it would be unlikely
that an electronic patient identification (EPI) system would then be able to fully
protect the privacy and confidentiality of its patients’ medical information.
Nursing information systems generally became the most widely used HIS mod-
ules, even as they evolved through the decades from punched-card data processing
376 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
of medication orders to bedside computer terminals, with expert systems for guid-
ing nursing diagnoses and patient care management. In contrast to physicians, most
nurses readily accepted HIS and EPR systems.
Because HIS and EPR systems comprise complex aggregates of many continu-
ally changing clinical subsystems, it seems unlikely that any single vendor in the
coming decades would develop a comprehensive EPR system that would satisfy the
needs of every user and department. Hopefully in the 2010s the emerging open-
systems architecture and the evolving interconnection standards for multivendor
hardware and software will permit full flow and interchange of information between
all multi-vendor EPR systems and subsystems and computer-based patients’
records.
The evaluations of EPR systems were never fully satisfying, since data were
always collected in a changing system within a changing environment; and con-
trolled comparisons were not feasible because researchers could not find two hospi-
tals that were the same in patients or providers or services. The installation of an
EPR system meant the operation of a hybrid system during the transition; the initial
period of operation meant using relatively untrained personnel. After an EPR sys-
tem reached steady-state operation, the long-term benefits expected included access
at all times to patient data by multiple users, improved retrievability and legibility
of data, faster transmission of orders and results, decreased hospital information-
handling costs, and better clinical decision support that would hopefully improve
the quality of patient care. Few of these benefits were achieved in the 2000s. More
frequently, the negative effects of EPR systems were documented as physicians
found the methods of data entry to computers to be unfamiliar, burdensome, and
more time-consuming than using pen and paper.
Installation of integrated, comprehensive, HIS and EPR systems in medical cen-
ters has become an achievable objective. Even in successful installations, the costs
are not merely technical. The substantial impact of system installation, of end-user
training, of workflow redesigns, and of system utilization and maintenance on end
users, compounded by the requirement of keeping up with two rapidly evolving
technologies – computer systems and clinical practice – takes a far larger toll than
the simple costs of hardware and software acquisition.
References
1. Abdelhak M. Hospital information systems applications and potential: a literature review. In:
Topics in health record management: hospital information systems. Germantown: Aspen
Systems; 1982:3(1). p. 8–18.
2. Ausman RK, Baer GD, McGuire MR, Marks RA, Ewart R, Carey J, et al. Clinical data man-
agement. Ann N Y Acad Sci. 1966;128:1100–7.
3. Baker RL. An adaptable interactive system for medical and research data management.
Methods Inf Med. 1974;13:209.
4. Ball MJ. An overview of total medical information systems. Methods Inf Med.
1971;10:73–82.
5. Ball MJ. EDP terminals: speed, legibility, control. Mod Hosp. 1971;117:119–22.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 377
6. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Information systems: the status of level 1. Hospitals. 1980;54:179–86.
7. Ball MJ, Hammon GL. Overview of computer applications in a variety of health care areas.
CRC Crit Rev Bioeng. 1975;2:183.
8. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE, Colavecchio FR, Potters JR. HIS: a status report. Hosp JAHA.
1972;46:48–52.
9. Ball MJ. Fifteen hospital information systems available. In: Ball MJ, editor. How to select a
computerized hospital information system. New York: S Karger; 1973. p. 10–27.
10. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Hospital information systems as we enter the decade of the 80’s. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;1:646–50.
11. Ball MJ, Hannah KJ, Browne JD. Using computers in nursing. Reston: Reston Pub. Co;
1984.
12. Barker WD. Management reports can help control costs. Hospitals. 1977;51:165–70.
13. Barnett GO. The application of computer-based medical record systems in ambulatory prac-
tice. In: Orthner HF, Blum BI, editors. Implementing health care information systems.
New York: Springer; 1989. p. 85–99.
14. Barnett GO. Computer-stored ambulatory record (COSTAR). US Department of Health,
Education, and Welfare, Public Health Service, Health Resources Administration, National
Center for Health Services Research; 1976.
15. Barnett GO. Computers in patient care. N Engl J Med. 1968;279:1321–7.
16. Barnett GO, Castleman PA. A time-sharing computer system for patient-care activities.
Comput Biomed Res. 1967;1:41–51.
17. Barnett GO, Souder D, Beaman P, Hupp J. MUMPS: an evolutionary commentary. Comput
Biomed Res. 1981;14:112–8.
18. Barnett GO, Justice NS, Somand ME, Adams JB, Waxman BD, Beaman PD, et al. COSTAR:
a computer-based medical information system for ambulatory care. Proc IEEE.
1979;67:1226–37.
19. Barnett GO. The modular hospital information system. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research, vol. IV. New York: Academic; 1974. p. 243–85.
20. Barnett GO. Massachusetts General Hospital computer system. In: Collen MF, editor.
Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 517–45.
21. Barnett GO, Zielstorff RD. Data systems can enhance or hinder medical, nursing activities.
Hospitals. 1977;51:157–61.
22. Barnett GO, Greenes RA, Grossman JH. Computer processing of medical text information.
Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:177–82.
23. Barrett JP, Hersch PL, Caswell RJ. Evaluation of the impact of the implementation of the
Technicon Medical Information System at El Camino Hospital, Part II: Economic Trend
Analysis. Columbus: Battelle Columbus Labs; 1979. NCHSR&D, NTIS No. PB 300 869.
24. Baruch JJ. Hospital research and administration with a digital computer. Circ Res.
1962;11:629–36.
25. Beggs S, Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Jacobs FM, Baker RL. Evaluation of a system for on-line
computer scheduling of patient care activities. Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:634–54.
26. Bleich HL, Beckley RF, Horowitz GL, Jackson JD, Moody ES, Franklin C, et al. Clinical
computing in a teaching hospital. N Engl J Med. 1985;312:756–64.
27. Blois MS, Henley RR. Strategies in the planning of hospital information systems. Journee
D’Informatique Medicale. 1971;11:89–98.
28. Blose WF, Vallbona C, Spencer WA. System for processing clinical research data. System
design. Proc 6th IBM Symp. 1964.
29. Blum BI, Lenhard RE J, McColligan EE. An integrated data model for patient care. IEEE
Trans Biomed Eng. 1985;32:277–88.
30. Blum B. Ambulatory care systems. In: Blum BI, editor. Clinical information systems.
New York: Springer; 1986. p. 253–93.
31. Blum BI. Design of an oncology clinical information system. Proc Annu Conf ACM.
1977:101–7.
378 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
32. Buchanan NS. Evolution of a hospital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:34–6.
33. Buck CR J, Reese GR, Lindberg DA. A general technique for computer processing of coded
patient diagnoses. Mo Med. 1966;63:276. 9 passim.
34. Campbell CM. Information system for a short-term hospital. Hosp JAHA. 1964;38:71–80.
35. Childs BW. TDS is changing to meet the challenges of the future. Healthc Comput Commun.
1987;4:12–3.
36. Clark WE, Clark VA, Souder JJ. Data for planning from health information system sources.
Inquiry. 1968;5:5–16.
37. Collen M. General requirements. In: Collen M, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York:
Wiley; 1974a. p. 3–23.
38. Collen MF. HIS concepts, goals and objectives. In: Towards new hospital information sys-
tems. Amsterdam: North Holland; 1988. p. 3–9.
39. Collen MF. General requirements for clinical departmental systems. Proc MEDINFO.
1983;736–9.
40. Collen MF. The functions of a HIS: an overview. Proc MEDINFO. 1983;61–4.
41. Collen MF. General requirements of a medical information system (MIS). Comput Biomed
Res. 1970;3:393–406.
42. Cronkhite LW. Patient location control as a first step toward a total information system.
Hospitals. 1967;41:107–12.
43. de la Chapelle, Ball MJ, Wright DJ. Networked minicomputers for hospital information man-
agement. Med Instrum. 1974;8:281–4.
44. de la Chapelle NF. Automatic data processing in hospitals: one system serves two hospitals.
Hospitals. 1964;38:77–80.
45. DeMarco P. Automating nursing’s paper work. Am J Nursing 1965;65:74–7.
46. Dobson A. The medicare prospective payment system: intent and future directions. Proc
SCAMC. 1984:497–501.
47. Dunn RG. Scheduling elective admissions. Health Serv Res. 1967;2:181.
48. Edwards SA. Guidelines for health services research & development: shared services.
NCHSR&D DHEW Pub. No. (HSM) 72-3023. 1972.
49. Emmel GR, Greenhalgh RC. Hospital information system study (part I), Proc 4th IBM Med
Symp. Endicott: IBM; 1962. p. 443–58.
50. Ertel PY. Accuracy in the reporting of clinical data: proper roles for the physician and the
computer. Proc SCAMC. 1984:484–6.
51. Esterhay R, Foy JL, Lewis TL. Hospital information systems: approaches to screen defini-
tion: comparative anatomy of the PROMIS, NIH and Duke systems. Proc SCAMC.
1982:903–11.
52. Estherhay RJ, Walton PL. Clinical research and PROMIS. Proc SCAMC. 1979:241–54.
53. Felts WR. Classification standards for billing databases and health-care reimbursement. MD
Comput. 1987;5:20. 6, 53.
54. Fischer PJ, Stratmann WC, Lundegaarde HP, Steele DJ. User reaction to PROMIS: issues
related to acceptability of medical innovations. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1722–30.
55. Flagle CD. On the requirements for information systems in hospitals. Proc Conf on ADP in
Hospitals. Elsinore: 1966.
56. Gall J. Computerized hospital information system cost-effectiveness: a case study. In: van
Egmond J, de Vries Robbe PF, Levy AH, editors. Information systems for patient care.
Amsterdam: North Holland; 1976. p. 281–93.
57. Gall J. Cost-benefit analysis: total hospital informatics. In: Koza RC, editor. Health informa-
tion systems evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 299–327.
58. Gardner RM, Pryor TA, Warner HR. The HELP hospital information system: update 1998.
Int J Med Inform. 1999;54:169–82.
59. Gardner RM, West BJ, Pryor TA. Distributed data base and network for ICU monitoring.
IEEE Computers in Cardiology, Salt Lake City: 1984. 305–7.
60. Giebink GA, Hurst LL. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 379
61. Giesler RH. How many hospitals use automatic data processing equipment. Hospitals.
1964;38:49.
62. Goldman J, Leonard MS. A strategy for the design of automated information systems. Proc
MEDINFO. 1983:744–7.
63. Gotcher SB, Carrick J, Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Carter RE, Cornell S. Daily treatment plan-
ning with an on-line shared computer system. Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:200.
64. Grossman JH, Thoren B. Census operation: technical memorandum. Boston: Laboratory of
Computer Science, Massachusetts General Hospital; 1966.
65. Grossman JH, Barnett GO, Koepsell TD, Nesson HR, Dorsey JL, Phillips RR. An automated
medical record system. JAMA. 1973;224:1616–21.
66. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ et al. An interface between a hospital information
system and a computerized medical record. Proc SCAMC. 1980:1537–40.
67. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. Planned networking for medical information sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1985:727–31.
68. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. Adapting to the day to day growth of TMR. Proc
SCAMC. 1983:101–5.
69. Helppie R. Superior insight. Comput Healthc. 1987;20:53–65.
70. Herner & Co. The use of computers in hospitals: Report III-Survey analysis; Report IV-
Descriptions of computer applications. Bethesda: National Center for Health Services
Research; 1968.
71. Hodge MH. History of the TDS medical information system. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA, edi-
tors. A history of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 328–44.
72. Hodge MH. Medical information systems: a resource for hospitals. Germantown: Aspen
Publishers; 1977.
73. Jacobs SE. Hospital-wide computer systems: the market and the vendors. MUG Q.
1983;12:1–12.
74. Jacobs SE, Reeves PN, Hammon GL. A historical review of hospital surveys on computeriza-
tion. In: Ball MJ, editor. How to select a computerized hospital information system.
New York: S. Karger; 1973. p. 62–70.
75. Jelliffe RW, Schumitzky A, Rodman J, Crone J. A package of time-shared computer programs
for patient care. Proc SCAMC. 1977:154–61.
76. Johns RJ, Blum BI. The use of clinical information systems to control cost as well as to
improve care. Trans Am Clin Climatol Assoc. 1979;90:140–51.
77. Juenemann HJ. The design of a data processing center for biological data. Ann N Y Acad Sci.
1964;115:547–52.
78. Kirby JD, Pickett MP, Boyarsky MW, Stead WW. Distributed processing with a mainframe-
based hospital information system: a generalized solution. Proc SCAMC. 1987:764–70.
79. Kuhn IM, Wiederhold G, Rodnick JE, Ransey-Klee D, Benett S, Beck DD. Automated ambu-
latory record systems in the US. NTIS Publication; 1982:178–89.
80. Kuperman GJ, Gardner RM, Pryor TA. The pharmacy application of the HELP system. In:
HELP: a dynamic hospital information system. New York: Springer; 1991. p. 168–72.
81. Lamson BG. Mini-computers and large central processors from a medical record manage-
ment point of view. Int Symp Med Inf Syst. 1975:58–65.
82. Lamson BG, Russell WS, Fullmore J, Nix WE. The first decade of effort: progress toward a
hospital information system at the UCLA Hospital, Los Angeles, California. Methods Inf
Med. 1970;9:73–80.
83. Lamson BG. Present possibilities for realizing HIS. Comput Prog Biomed. 1976;5:215.
84. Lee PR, Ginsburg PB. Building a consensus for physician payment reform in Medicare. The
Physician Payment Review Commission. West J Med. 1988;149:352–8. 1026440.
85. Leonard MS, Ashton WB, Blackwell PW. Automated Hospital Information System (AHIS)
component catalog. Columbia: Health Services Research Center, Health Care Technology
Center, University of Missouri-Columbia; 1980.
86. Lincoln TL. Hospital information systems: what lies behind friendliness and flexibility?
Inform Health Soc Care. 1984;9:255–63.
380 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
87. Lindberg D. The growth of medical information systems in the United States. Lexington:
Lexington Books; 1979.
88. Lindberg D. CONSIDER: a computer program for medical instruction. N Y State J Med.
1969;69:54.
89. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
90. Lindberg D. Collection, evaluation, and transmission of hospital laboratory data. Methods Inf
Med. 1964a;6:97–107.
91. Lindberg D. Operation of a hospital computer system. J Am Vet Med Assoc.
1965;147:1541–4.
92. Lindberg D. Electronic retrieval of clinical data. J Med Educ. 1965;40:753–9.
93. Lindberg D. A computer in medicine. Mo Med. 1964b;61:282–4.
94. Lindberg D, Schroeder JJ, Rowland RR. Experience with a computer laboratory system. In:
Benson ES, Strandjord PE, editors. Multiple laboratory screening. New York: Academic;
1969. p. 2245–55.
95. Lindberg D, Vanpeenen HJ, Couch RD. Patterns in clinical chemistry. Low serum sodium
and chloride in hospitalized patients. Am J Clin Pathol. 1965;44:315–21.
96. Lindberg D, Reese GR, Buck C. Computer generated hospital diagnosis file. Mo Med.
1964;61:581–2. passim.
97. Lindberg DAB. The development and diffusion of a medical technology: medical informa-
tion systems. In: Medical technology and the health care system: a study of the diffusion of
equipment-embodied technology. Washington, DC: National Academy of Science; 1979.
p. 201–39.
98. Lindberg DAB. A statewide medical information system. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:453–63.
99. Lund SR, Ackerman LV, Martin JB, Somand ME. Distributed processing with a local area
network. Proc AAMSI. 1984:52–6.
100. Maturi VF, DuBois RM. Recent trends in computerized medical information systems for
hospital departments. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1541–9.
101. McColligan E, Blum B, Brunn C. An automated care medical record system for ambulatory
care. Proc SCM/SAMS Jt Conf Ambul Med. 1981:72–6.
102. McDonald CJ. The medical gopher: a microcomputer based physician work station. Proc
SCAMC. 1984:453–9.
103. McDonald C, Blevins L, Glazener T, Haas J, Lemmon L, Meeks-Johnson J. Data base man-
agement, feedback control, and the Regenstrief medical record. J Med Syst. 1983;7:111–25.
104. McDonald CJ. Standards for the transmission of diagnostic results from laboratory comput-
ers to office practice computers: an initiative. Proc SCAMC. 1983:123–4.
105. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. Computer-stored medical records: their future role in medical
practice. JAMA. 1988;259:3433–40.
106. McDonald CJ, Blevins L, Tierney WM, Martin DK. The Regenstrief medical records. MD
Comput. 1987;5:34–47.
107. McDonald CJ, Murray R, Jeris D, Bhargava B, Seeger J, Blevins L. A computer-based record
and clinical monitoring system for ambulatory care. Am J Public Health. 1977b;67:240–5.
108. McDonald CJ, Hui SL, Smith DM, Tierney WM, Cohen SJ, Weinberger M, et al. Reminders
to physicians from an introspective computer medical record: a two-year randomized trial.
Ann Intern Med. 1984;100:130–8.
109. McDonald CJ, Wilson G, Blevins L, Seeger J, Chamness D, Smith D, et al. The Regenstrief
medical record system. Proc SCAMC. 1977a:168–9.
110. McDonald CJ, Overhage JM, Tierney WM, Dexter PR, Martin DK, Suico JG, et al. The
Regenstrief medical record system: a quarter century experience. Int J Med Inform.
1999;54:225–53.
111. McPhillips R. Keynote address: the health care delivery system. Comput Nurs.
1987;5:89–93.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 381
112. Mishelevich DJ, Hudson BG, Van Slyke D, Mize EI, Robinson AL, Brieden HC, et al. The
POIS (Parkland on-line information system) implementation of the IBM health care support/
patient care system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:19–33.
113. Monmouth. Monmouth medical shapes a total system. Systems. 1966:12–48.
114. Myers E. Shot in the arm. Datamation. 1985;31:75–83.
115. NCHSR&D. Summary Report on Hospital Information Systems. Springfield: National
Center for Health Services Research and Development. NTIS PB 189 174. 1969.
116. Newald J. Hospitals look to computerization of physician office linkage. Hospitals.
1987;61:92–4.
117. Nichols KJ, Ardolino M, Kahane SN, Richmond D. The Johns Hopkins Hospital discharge
instructions application. Proc SCAMC. 1987:401–3.
118. OTA. Office of Technology Assessment. Policy implications of medical information systems.
1977:58–63.
119. Pesce J. Bedside terminals: MedTake. MD Comput. 1988;5:16–21.
120. Pratt AW. Progress towards a medical information system for the research environment. In:
Fuchs G, Wagner G, editors. Deutsche Gesellschaft Medizinische Dokumentation und
Statistik. New York: Schattauer; 1972. p. 319–36.
121. PROMIS Laboratory. Representation of medical knowledge and PROMIS. Proc SCAMC.
1978:368–75.
122. Pryor TA, Gardner RM, Clayton PD, Warner HR. The HELP system. J Med Syst.
1983;7:87–102.
123. Reynolds RE, Heller EE. An academic medical center experience with a computerized hos-
pital information system: the first four years. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:13–6.
124. Roach CJ. Patient data processing – the key to hospital automation. Am J Med Electron.
1962;1:51.
125. Rogerson CL. Towards a case-mix information system for the emergency department. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;514–7.
126. Rosko MD. DRGs and severity of illness measures: an analysis of patient classification sys-
tems. J Med Syst. 1988;12:257–74.
127. Runck HM. Computer planning for hospitals-large-scale education and involvement of
employees. Comput Autom. 1969;18:33.
128. Rusnak JE. The CMRI PRO medicare review information system. Proc MEDINFO.
1986:448–50.
129. Saba VK, McCormick KA. Essentials of computers for nurses. Philadelphia: Lippincott;
1986.
130. Safran C, Porter D, Lightfoot J, Rury CD, Underhill LH, Bleich HL, et al. ClinQuery: a sys-
tem for online searching of data in a teaching hospital. Ann Intern Med. 1989;111:751–6.
131. Schultz JR, Davis L. The technology of PROMIS. Proc IEEE. 1979;67:1237–44.
132. Shieman BM. Medical information system, El Camino Hospital. IMS Ind Med Surg.
1971;40:25–6.
133. Siegel SJ. Developing an information system for a hospital. Public Health Rep.
1968;83:359–62.
134. Slack WV, Bleich HL. The CCC system in two teaching hospitals: a progress report. Int J
Med Inform. 1999;54:183–96.
135. Slack WV, Van Cura LJ. Computer-based patient interviewing. Postgrad Med. 1968;43:115–
20. concl.
136. Slack WV, Van Cura L. Computer-based patient interviewing. Postgrad Med.
1968;43:68–74.
137. Slack WV, Hicks GP, Reed CE, Van Cura LJ. A computer-based medical-history system. N
Engl J Med. 1966;274:194–8.
138. Slack WV. Patient counseling by computer. Proc SCAMC. 1972:222–6.
139. Smith JW. A hospital adverse drug reaction reporting program. Hospitals. 1966;40:90.
140. Sneider RM. Using a medical information system to improve the quality of patient care. Proc
SCAMC. 1978:594–7.
382 M.F. Collen and R.A. Miller
141. Spencer WA, Baker RL. Accomplishing the transition to computers in medicine. In: Flagle
CD, editor. Advanced medical systems: issues and challenges. New York: Stratton
Intercontinental Medical Book Corp; 1975. p. 37–63.
142. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. Digitation of clinical and research data in serial evaluation of dis-
ease processes. IRE Trans Med Electron. 1960;ME-7:296–308.
143. Spencer WA. An opinion survey of computer applications in 149 hospitals in the USA,
Europe and Japan. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:215–34.
144. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. Application of computers in clinical practice. JAMA.
1965;191:917–21.
145. Spencer WA, Baker RL, Moffet CL. Hospital computer systems: a review of usage and future
requirements after a decade of overpromise and underachievement. Adv Biomed Eng.
1972;2:61–138.
146. Starr P. The social transformation of American medicine. New York: Basic Books; 1982.
147. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Computer-based medical records: the centerpiece of TMR. MD
Comput. 1988;5:48–62.
148. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Functions required to allow TMR to support the information
requirements of a hospital. Proc SCAMC. 1983:106–9.
149. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Winfree RG. Beyond a basic HIS: work stations for department
management. Proc SCAMC. 1984:197–9.
150. Stefanchik MF. Point-of-care information systems: improving patient care. Comput Healthc.
1987;4:7–8.
151. Stobie G. Medical data processing in a large hospital environment. Proc 7th IBM Med Symp.
1965:365–70.
152. Stratmann WC. A demonstration of PROMIS: the problem oriented medical information sys-
tem at the Medical Center Hospital of Vermont, NCHSR Research Summary Series.
Hyattsville: National Center for Health Services Research; 1979. DHEW Publication No
(PHS) 79-3247.
153. Summerfield AB, Empey S. Computer-based information systems for medicine: a survey and
brief discussion of current projects. Santa Monica: System Development Corporation; 1965.
154. Teich JM, Glaser JP, Beckley RF, Aranow M, Bates DW, Kuperman GJ, et al. The Brigham
integrated computing system (BICS): advanced clinical systems in an academic hospital
environment. Int J Med Inform. 1999;54:197–208.
155. Tolchin SG, Barta W. Local network and distributed processing issues in the Johns Hopkins
Hospital. J Med Syst. 1986;10:339–53.
156. Vallbona C. Ten years of computers in medicine: a retrospective view. Proc 9th IBM Med
Symp. 1968:189–94.
157. Vallbona C. Processing medical information at the bedside. Proc 4th IBM Med Symp.
1962:405.
158. Vallbona C, Spencer WA. Texas Institute for Research and Rehabilitation Hospital computer
system (Houston). In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley;
1974. p. 662–700.
159. Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Moffet CL. The patient care centered information system of the
Texas Institute for Rehabilitation and Research. Proc Int Conf Health Technol Syst. ORSA.
1973:232–60.
160. Vallbona C, Blose WF, Spencer WA. Systems for processing clinical research data. Part 1.
Experience and problems. Proc 6th IMB Symp. 1964:437–48.
161. Vallbona C. Preparing medical record data for computer processing. Hospitals. 1967;41:113.
162. Vallbona C. Application of computers for hospital usage. J Chronic Dis. 1966;19:461–72.
163. Vladeck BC. Medicare hospital payment by diagnosis-related groups. Ann Intern Med.
1984;100:576–91.
164. Warner HR. A computer-based patient monitoring. In: Stacy RW, Waxman B, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1972.
165. Watson RJ. A large-scale professionally oriented medical information system – five years
later. J Med Syst. 1977;1:3–21.
6 The Early History of Hospital Information Systems for Inpatient Care… 383
166. Weed LL. PROMIS Laboratory. Representation of medical knowledge and PROMIS. In:
Blum BI, editor. Information systems for patient care. New York: Springer; 1984. p. 83–108.
167. Weed LL. Problem-oriented medical records. In: Driggs MF, editor. Problem directed and
medical information systems. New York: Intercontinental Medical Book Corp; 1973.
p. 15–38.
168. Weed LL. PROMIS Laboratory. Automation of the problem-oriented medical record. DHEW,
Health Resources Administration, National Center for Health Services Research. 1977.
169. Weed LL, Hertzberg RY. The use and construction of problem-knowledge couplers, the
knowledge coupler editor, knowledge networks, and the problem-oriented medical record for
the microcomputer. Proc SCAMC. 1983;831–6.
170. Wheeler PS, Simborg DW, Gitlin JN. The Johns Hopkins radiology reporting system.
Radiology. 1976;119:315–9.
171. Wood CT, Lamontagne A. Computer assists advanced bed booking. Hospitals.
1969;43:67–9.
172. Yeh S, Lincoln T. From micro to mainframe. Am J Perinatol. 1985;2:158–60.
173. Young EM, Brian EW, Hardy DR, Kaplan A, Childerston JK. Evaluation of automated hos-
pital data management systems (AHDMS). Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:651–7.
174. Zucker LW. An integrated information system for hospital financial operations. Hospitals.
1965;39:55–8.
Chapter 7
Nursing Informatics: Past, Present,
and Future
Abstract Early hospital information systems (HISs) placed computers at nursing sta-
tions, and the passage of Medicare in 1965 set reimbursement rules that required
documentation, first met by nurses using precoded cards and forms. In the 1970s,
interactive terminals with visual displays became available; in the 1980s, microcom-
puters custom-tailored for nursing functions began to be installed at the patient’s bed-
side. Handheld portable devices began to appear for use at the point of care, and
hospitals began to use bar codes for identification purposes. Nurses became increas-
ingly involved in specifying information requirements for nursing services. In the
1980s, nursing information systems (NISs) were probably the most widely used HIS
subsystem. They were used for bed assignment and control, nurse staffing recommen-
dations based on patient classification systems, quality assurance programs, nursing
care planning, and decision support. The 1980s also saw advances toward implemen-
tation of the Nursing Minimum Data Set and development of nursing education pro-
grams. In the 1990s, the American Nurses Association published documents defining
the scope and standards of nursing informatics practice, and the American Nurses
Credentialing Center had established a certification in nursing informatics as a prac-
tice specialty. In the 2000s, an international nursing terminology summit brought
nurses and standards experts together to integrate nursing concepts and map nursing
The views expressed are those of the author Walker and do not reflect official policy or position of
the USUHS, the Department of Defense, or the United State Federal Government.
Author was deceased at the time of publication.
M.F. Collen (deceased)
P.H. Walker (*)
Strategic Initiatives and Graduate School of Nursing,
Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences, Bethesda, MD, USA
e-mail: [email protected]
Computer terminals located at the nursing stations were critical to the nurses’
acceptance of a hospital information system (HIS). In the early 1960s, Spencer and
Vallbona [73] at the Texas Institute for Rehabilitation and Research (TIRR) used
specially designed source documents for recording at the patient’s bedside the
nursing notes and the patient’s vital signs. The data were then keypunched and read
into the computer, following which progress notes were printed, and vital signs
were plotted for filing in the patient’s paper-based chart [68]. At the University of
Missouri-Columbia Hospital, IBM 1092 terminals with multiple function buttons
and plastic overlay mats to define different data sets were placed at nursing stations
[44]. At the Children’s Hospital in Akron, Ohio, DeMarco [19] reported the
installation of an IBM 1710 system with data entry terminals with keyboards
consisting of rows of push buttons that served as code keys for order entry,
admissions, dietary services, and census reports. This system completely replaced
the Kardex file system in which orders had been manually written. To enter an order
for penicillin, for example, the nurse started at the left side of the keyboard, entered
388 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
the type of order (its function code) in the first two rows, the patient’s code number
in the next three columns, the order number (of the medication and its strength) in
the next four columns, how frequently the order should be carried out in the next
two rows, and the type of order (modifier) in the last row on the right. Instantly, the
order was decoded and printed back on the output printer. However, push-button,
key-coded type terminals were soon found to be too slow and inflexible.
The United States Congress amended the Social Security Act to include Medicare
and Medicaid in 1965. This federal law now required nurses to document care and
be provided to Health and Human Services in order for the hospital to qualify for
reimbursement. Addressing this requirement in 1965, nurses at San Jose Hospital
recorded their observations on a checklist form that could be read by a mark-sense
reader that produced punched cards. The cards were then processed through an IBM
1441 computer, which created the records necessary to print out the nurses’ notes.
Forms were developed for medical, surgical, pediatric, and maternity nursing units
[56]. In 1966 the Institute of Living in Hartford, Connecticut, reported that its nurses
checked off statements on a machine-readable form that described their patient’s
status. The completed forms were picked up daily and read into a computer. The
computer, in turn, printed out a checklist that incorporated the additional written
observations, and thus created a narrative statement [63]. The precoded cards and
forms were too inflexible, however, and were replaced by interactive terminals in
the 1970s when nursing information systems began to include visual display termi-
nals at the nursing stations. These interactive terminals permitted the selection of
data from menu listings. Some terminals had light-pen or touch-sensitive data selec-
tors; all had keyboards for entry of other non-displayed, pre-formatted data [8]. It
was the hope that one of the main benefits of interactive display terminals would be
that it would encourage physicians to enter their orders directly, without any nurse
or clerk intermediaries, to eliminate transcription errors and to provide online clini-
cal decision support to physicians. However, nurses accepted these display termi-
nals more than did physicians.
Stimulated by the advances in technology, the need for data/information input
and the growing need to utilize the data for research and decision-making, a national
working conference was held in 1969 to “develop a ‘minimum basic set’ of data
elements to be collected from all hospital records at the point of patient discharge
from hospitals” [35]. At the same time, advances in computer design made it feasi-
ble to manage data using computers. Thus the problem was the need to identify
available and reliable data elements that would be consistent across multiple users
and settings.
In 1974, a Uniform Hospital Discharge Data Set (UHDDS) was adopted by Health
and Human Services; however, the items focused on medical diagnosis and treat-
ments. Nurses provided much of the clinical care 24-7, yet there was no nursing
7 Nursing Informatics: Past, Present, and Future 389
clinical data in the dataset. In 1977, this prompted nurses to build on Werley’s ear-
lier work (REF) and to move forward with the development of the Nursing Minimum
Data Set (NDMS). This work was not completed until the mid-late 1980s.
During this important decade, according to Ozbolt and Saba [57], the “first
reports of computer applications in nursing began to appear in the scholarly litera-
ture.” Zielstorff was hired into the Laboratory of Computer Science at Massachusetts
General Hospital (MGH), where she contributed a nursing perspective to funded
grants. In 1971 Massachusetts General initiated a nurse-practitioner project designed
to allow nurses access to computer-stored medical records. Using a video terminal
with a light-pen data selector, after entering the patient’s identification number, a
nurse could retrieve and review current medication orders, recent progress notes and
laboratory test results. Nursing progress notes were entered by selecting appropriate
data items from a series of displayed frames. A teletype printer could print out a data
flow sheet for that office visit. The project was based on Barnett’s pioneering work
in his laboratory at MGH [29]. Later in the 1970s, Zielstorff edited the first monthly
column on computer applications in nursing in the Journal of Nursing Administration
and subsequently complied/edited one of the first textbooks, Computers in Nursing
[85].
Ball [5] also wrote that some vendors of hospital information systems (HIS)
planned their basic philosophy in HIS design on the concept that activity at the nurs-
ing station is the activity most directed to patient care and therefore the most impor-
tant. Ball and associates [6] further wrote that nurses constituted the largest group
of health care professionals in any hospital and accessed the HIS more often than
any other category of health care professional. Nursing functions were always cen-
tral to the care of hospital patients, and nurses’ services to patients directly comple-
mented those of physicians. Two early developments reflected this reality. At the El
Camino Hospital in Mountain View, California, nurses assisted in the development
of an integrated system for nursing care planning, documentation, and feedback
working with Technicon Medical Information Systems [17]. At the Clinical Center
of the National Institutes of Health, McCormick and Romano were among nurses
focused on interdisciplinary efforts to include documentation of nursing data when
implementing Technicon there [57].
Federal funding from a predecessor of the Agency for Research and Quality, the
National Center for Health Services Research (NCHSR) helped support the devel-
opment of HIS that included nursing care planning. In addition, computer vendors
contributed substantially to the development of information systems (NISs). Saba
and McCormick [66] defined NISs as computer systems to collect, store, retrieve,
display, and communicate timely information needed to administer nursing services
and resources; to manage patient information for the delivery of nursing care; and
to link nursing practice, research, and education.
The technical design of a NIS was generally similar to that for any clinical
department. The NIS had to be able to support all nursing functions, to have
computer terminals acceptable to nurses, to be integrated into the overall HIS,
and to provide data security and integrity [87]. However, the detailed functional
390 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
In the 1980s, significant progress was made in nursing informatics not only in tech-
nology that directly impacted practice, in education, research and advances in nurs-
ing professions and interdisciplinary associations, in education and research. During
this important decade, significant attempts continued to be advanced to capture
nursing’s unique contributions to patient care and ability to track those contributions
to outcomes. Also, continued significant attempts to standardize nursing language
and data elements and legitimate nursing informatics as a specialty in the profession
of nursing.
7 Nursing Informatics: Past, Present, and Future 391
With the advent of the personal computer in 1980, vendors also began to develop
specialized, microcomputer-based video display terminals with simplified key-
boards custom-tailored for nursing functions to be used at the patient’s bedside.
These bedside terminals were connected to nursing-station units that were linked by
LANs into the HIS [61]. This allowed nurses to record directly into the computer, at
the time of caring for the patient, the patient’s vital signs, the nursing observations,
and the medications given. Printouts from the terminal located at the bedside
included graphs of the vital signs and a variety of useful reports.
The 1981 Fifth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in Medical Care
(SCAMC) held what was its first full session on nursing applications of computers,
organized by Virginia Saba [70]. McNeely [50] emphasized the importance of nurse
participation in the planning of the NIS for the Clinical Center of the National
Institutes of Health (NIH). Zielstorff [86] reviewed the status of Nursing Information
Systems (NIS) administrative applications in hospitals. Charters described the use
of microcomputers to automate 80 % of nursing service paperwork [15].
At a conference held in 1981 at the Clinical Center of the National Institutes of
Health and attended by more than 700 nurses, it was agreed that nurse administra-
tors needed to have a voice in purchasing and implementing decisions, authority for
controlling nursing database development, a stake in the development of content
and standards of nursing documentation, and an agreed-upon taxonomy for the
nursing process, including nursing diagnoses [83].
In 1984 a distributed system of microcomputers was installed at the LDS Hospital
in Salt Lake City, with four display terminals and one printer at each 48-bed nursing
division; and a group of 30 display terminals were connected to each microcom-
puter. Patient data were entered and reviewed at each local terminal, and eventually
were transferred from the microcomputer into the central Tandem computer.
Through menu selection from the displays, nurses had access to order-entry and
review, results review, and discharge and transfer functions. The system generated
nursing care plans and performed some charting functions [41]. The system auto-
matically measured patient acuity or degree of dependency based on nursing time
spent with each patient, in accordance with preassigned time factors as the nurse
entered aspects of patient care during a work shift [42]. Nurses wanted to capture
source data as close to the patient’s bedside as feasible; so with the advent of lower-
cost minicomputers connected to smart terminals, these terminals were placed at the
patient’s bedside. In 1984 LDS Hospital placed such terminals at the bedsides in
their ICU [14]; by 1987 the hospital had 400 such terminals in their general nursing
divisions. They performed a study that compared on-line nurse charting on one
nursing unit where nurses used terminals located at the bedside with charting by
nurses using similar terminals located at the nursing station. The researchers evalu-
ated nurses’ satisfaction, amount of use of each terminal, and the number of items
being double charted (written down and then entered later). The results were so
favorable that by the end of the 1980s the LDS hospital was installing bedside ter-
minals throughout all nursing units [40].
By the mid-1980s portable handheld terminals appeared that permitted the nurse
to enter patient data at the point of care. The ability of nurses to access the patient’s
392 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
computer-based record directly at the point of care was expected to improve the
quality and documentation of nurses’ bedside care and to save nursing time [75].
The patient’s vital signs and the medications given were entered directly into the
patient’s computer-based record, eliminating the paper charting process and allow-
ing nurses more time for other nursing functions. At the end of the 1980s a medical
information bus was developed, that was a standardized connection, so any vendor’s
bedside technology could take data from the bedside terminals and integrate the
data into the HIS database. This bus was a standardized connection, so any vendor’s
bedside technology could communicate with the HIS database [21].
Hospitals began to use bar codes to identify patients, using bar-coded wristbands,
bar-coded medical records, blood-bank samples, laboratory samples, and x-ray
folders. For clinical applications that allowed the use of bar-code labels, using a
wand bar-code reader connected to, or communicating by radio to, a computer was
a much faster method for nurses than was typing to enter the data contained on the
label, and it was more accurate [30]. In 1986 M. Monahan and associates at the
University of Hospitals of Cleveland, Ohio, reported the use of handheld terminals
that, after manual entry of the patient’s identification, used barcode readers to scan
and enter automatically nurse identification and relevant patient conditions from a
listing of 61 possible nursing diagnoses. After all patient and nursing data were
entered into the terminal for the day, the data were transmitted to the hospital com-
puter via any telephone, since a modem was located in the back of the terminal.
Advantages of the technology included its affordability and a data entry procedure
that was reported to be easily learned by 1100 nurses on 33 inpatient units for its
rapid data entry [52]. However, because there was not a two-way link to the hospital
computer, patient identification numbers could not be verified to determine whether
they were correct. This deficiency was corrected when the vendors (1) provided
portable handheld terminals with barcode readers that communicated with a base
unit via radio frequency and (2) set up communications between the base units and
nursing-station terminals linked to the HIS over existing telephone lines [36]. In
1988 Childs [16] described how a nurse, with a handheld terminal containing a
barcode reader, read the patient’s identification number from the code stripes on the
patient’s wristband before giving a medication to verify that the patient was due at
that time for that specific medication. When the computer identified matching bar
codes, it authorized giving the medication and recorded the date and time. By the
end of the 1980s, bedside systems were available from a variety of vendors, so a
hospital could select a system with bedside terminals connected to the main HIS,
bedside terminals connected to the nursing station in the HIS, or portable point-of-
care terminals interfaced by radio frequency to the nursing system of the HIS.
Nursing services have their own administrative and managerial responsibilities,
in addition to direct patient care functions [69]. Nursing management functions
include: staffing and scheduling the nursing staff, maintaining personnel records,
administering quality-assurance programs, managing resources used, and preparing
nursing-service budgets. Traditionally, nurse staffing had been based primarily on
the ratio of hospital patients to nursing personnel. A group at Johns Hopkins Hospital
reported studies that indicated that functional activity planning and budgeting for
7 Nursing Informatics: Past, Present, and Future 393
nursing services improved these activities [72]. In the 1980s NISs began to provide
nurse staffing recommendations based on some classification system of patients’
status. Nurses assessed their patient’s acuity level and entered the appropriate data
by selecting descriptors from a displayed list (or menu); patients were then catego-
rized as to the probable hours of nursing care they would require, and then staffing
requirements for the nursing shift were recommended [66, 68]. Also in the 1980s
reports appeared that described automated nurse-scheduling and nurse-staffing sys-
tems using personal computers. At the Milwaukee County Medical Complex,
Flanders [27] reported that an IBM personal computer (PC) had been operational
for 20 months preparing schedules for 1500 nurses, generating 4–6-week schedules
for several classifications of nursing staff. The developmental and operational costs
of the system were favorable due to the system being microcomputer-based and
totally under the nursing department’s control. Kogut [45] at the Montefiore Medical
Center in the Bronx, New York, reported the installation in 1983 of a patient acuity
and nurse-staffing system for 28 nursing units using a personal computer with a
series of displayed menus for item selection.
Saba [71] reported that, as a result of the Joint Commission on Accreditation on
Hospitals (JCAH) recommendation that nurse staffing should be based on patient
cuity/classification systems instead of the traditional nurse-to-patient ratios, such
systems became the major method to administrate nursing services in hospitals in
the 1980s. Saba [68] described four patient classification systems then being used
for nurse staffing:
• The San Joaquin System, which used nine indicators of patient care
requirements
• The Medicus Patient Classification Module of Nursing Productivity and Quality
of Patient Care System (NPAQ), which used 36 indicators of patient care
• The Grace Reynolds Applications and Study of PETO (GRASP), which used
time requirements for 60 nursing activities
• The Halloran and Kiley Nurse Management System based on nursing
diagnoses.
Nursing Information Systems (NISs) also had a role in bed assignment and con-
trol. Nurses regularly confirmed bed census with the admitting service; assigned
beds on request of the admitting service; notified housekeeping when a bed needed
to be prepared; notified dietary service on bed changes and dietary requirements;
and notified the business office when a patient was discharged, so that a bill could
be prepared. NISs were also used to administer the quality assurance programs of
nursing services on patient care, and to monitor adherence to predefined quality
assurance standards [68].
According to Saba [68], the steps of the nursing process in direct patient care
could be classified as collecting data, diagnosing, setting objectives (with priorities
and target dates for achievement), choosing and implementing interventions, and
evaluating the effectiveness of care. The patient care nursing functions that required
the entry, retrieval, and communication of data in the nursing system of a HIS
included: physicians’ orders, patient status reports, medication administration, nurs-
394 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
ing diagnoses, and patient care plans [77]. The Nursing Information System (NIS)
database containing the data documenting what nurses did in their practice, included
patient interventions in response to medical orders; and relatively independent nurs-
ing interventions based on nursing diagnoses relating to patient needs, which
encompassed air, circulation, food and fluid, elimination, sleep and rest, comfort
and pain, hygiene and skin, and others [62].
As had users of other NIS systems, nurses recognized the importance of develop-
ing their own standard sets of data for nursing practice. By the mid-1980s, Gordon
[31], at the Boston College of Nursing in Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts, had pro-
posed a standard nursing data set that included 17 data items. Werley [81], Lang,
and associates at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee School of Nursing tested
a standard nursing minimum data set of 16 data items. These data sets included:
items representing patient demographic variables (age, gender, ethnicity, marital
status, next of kin, and residence); provider variables (facility providing care, pri-
mary nurse identification, admission and discharge dates, disposition, anticipated
source of payment); and care provision variables (functional health status, nursing
diagnoses, projected and actual outcomes, nursing treatment orders, medical diag-
noses, medical treatment orders, diagnostic and surgical procedures). This data set
was to be applied to nursing practice in at least five settings including hospitals,
ambulatory care, home care, community, and long-term care. Assisted by funding
from the Hospital Corporation of America (arranged by Simpson) and sponsored by
IBM (contacted by Werley based on early consulting relationships) and the
University of Wisconsin – Milwaukee School of Nursing, the Nursing Minimum
Data Set became a reality in 1985–1986.
Ball and Hannah [6] described two general approaches to the automated record-
ing of nurses’ notes on their observations of patients. The first method employed the
development of a group of frequently used descriptive terms, and the earliest nurs-
ing systems used machine-readable forms from which the nurse selected the appro-
priate statements that applied best to the patient. The marked forms were batch
processed, and the data were read into the computer. Later, display terminals con-
nected to the computer permitted online processing of nurses’ notes with a computer-
based library of frequently used phrases arranged in subject categories. For example,
if the nurse chose the phrase, patient’s sleeping habits, a displayed menu of standard
descriptions appeared, additional comments were allowed; and when completed the
nursing station printer immediately printed a complete narrative that could then be
attached to the patient’s paper chart.
The second method used a branching questionnaire for data entry. The computer
terminal displaced an initial list of subjects from which the nurse would select the
one most appropriate for the patient. For example, if describing skin conditions, the
nurse then would be led through a series of questions, such as skin intact, yes, no?
If answered yes, then other questions followed until completion of the desired
observation. The computer then processed the information and provided a narrative
printout for the patient’s chart.
Nurses needed to enter data describing the patient’s status as to mental acuity,
physical abilities, vital signs, fluid balance, and other data. They also entered terms
7 Nursing Informatics: Past, Present, and Future 395
representing nursing diagnoses, which classified the patients’ problems that nurses
were licensed to treat. Like medical diagnoses, nursing diagnoses were based on
patients’ signs and symptoms. The North American Nursing Diagnosis Association
(NANDA) [54] developed a classification for nursing diagnoses using a four-
character code modeled after the International Classification of Diseases (ICD);
examples at that date were: Y.20.3 for diarrhea, Y.25.1 for hyperthermia, and Y.50.4
for impaired physical mobility [26]. Following the establishment of their patients’
diagnoses, nurses prepared nursing care plans for each patient; then carried out
these plans, and documented all results as a part of the traditional nurses charting
activities. Computer-based patient care management plans were built into some of
the earliest HISs, such as those used at TIRR. In the late 1960s, the TIRR informa-
tion system prepared treatment plans and generated department lists of tasks to be
carried out by the nursing units [76].
Saba [68, 71] described two types of nursing care planning systems that were
available in the second half of the 1980s:
• Traditional systems focused on medical diagnoses or diseases; these consisted of
elements that addressed signs and symptoms, and contained protocols that
reflected the medical orders for nursing care for each diagnosis.
• New nursing care planning systems that focused on nursing diagnoses; these set
forth the nursing process that consisted of assessing and diagnosing the nursing
problems for care of the patient and then planning, intervening, and evaluating
the outcome of care.
Although Ozbolt and Saba [57] found agreement on how to operationalize nurs-
ing data elements consistently across systems, other systems were developed in
addition to NANDA. One of these was the Omaha System, which provided a
practical approach to recording nursing diagnosis, interventions and outcomes.
Another was the Home Health Care Classification System developed by Saba and
research colleagues at Georgetown University in the late 1980s, which classified
home health Medicare patients as a method to predict resource requirements and
measure outcomes [67]. Later known as the Clinical Care Classification (CCC),
Saba’s system was expanded from home health and ambulatory care settings into
other settings and was accepted by the Department of Health and Human Services
as the first national nursing terminology that allowed nurses, allied health profes-
sionals, and researchers to determine care needs (resources), workload (productiv-
ity), and outcomes (quality).
Crosley [18], at Long Island Jewish-Hillside Medical Center in New Jersey, and
Light [47], at Crouse-Irving Memorial Hospital associated with Syracuse University,
reported on the use of IBM’s computer-based nursing care plan developed as a sepa-
rate application module in its HIS, developed earlier at Duke University and
announced at IBM in early 1978. This nursing system displayed a set of screens
labeled as nursing diagnostic category, signs and symptoms, related factors, patient
outcomes, nursing orders, and evaluation. Selections were made from items listed in
the series of displays by use of a light pen selector, supplemented by keyboard data
entry when needed. The computer printed out a copy of the aggregated data that had
396 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
been entered, and this printout constituted the patient’s care plan and was placed in
the patient’s paper chart [18]. Jenkins [38], at the University of Tennessee in
Knoxville, described the McDonnell Douglas Patient Care System, which permitted
nurses to develop care plans with four elements: the problem description; the etiolo-
gies; the goals of treatment; and the interventions. If the system did not include
desired information, nurses could modify the plan using a free-form comment func-
tion. Saba [68] reported that HISs in which the nursing subsystem was primarily
used for nursing care planning included Shared Medical Systems, Ulticare, the LDS
Hospital’s HELP System, and the NIH’s Technicon System.
After physicians began to develop expert systems to aid them in their clinical
decisions for patients’ medical problems, some nurses began to develop nursing
expert systems to provide decision support in care plans for patients’ nursing prob-
lems. Such nursing expert systems usually required using a computer terminal that
permitted the user to ask the system specific questions about the patient’s problems,
and to receive relevant information. As in any expert system, such responses
required a knowledge base of information obtained from the literature or from
experts in the field and a mechanism for applying the expert knowledge to the spe-
cific questions asked about the patient’s problem. A common technique was for the
computer to ask the nurse a series of questions about the patient. With the informa-
tion thus obtained about the patient and using the knowledge base, the program
suggested diagnoses and alternative managements [46].
By the early 1980s, some NISs were available that provided a baseline assess-
ment guide using information that included the patient’s perceptions of: chief com-
plaint, health history, medications, neurological status, mobility, activities of daily
living, sleep/rest, comfort/pain, nutrition, psycho-social status, respiratory, circula-
tory, elimination-bowel and urinary, reproductive, and integumentary items [2].
After guiding the nurse through the collection of these data, the system suggested
diagnoses to consider. Once a diagnosis was established, the nurse developed a care
plan selected from a list of suggested alternative actions. Lombard [49] at Crouse-
Irving Hospital in Syracuse, New York, described their nursing system, which had
patient care plans developed by a consensus of nursing experts for such common
diagnoses as anxiety, pain, decreased mobility, dependency, disorientation, impaired
self concept, impaired skin integrity, impaired transport, respiratory impairment,
and others.
The Creighton Online Multiple Modular Expert System (COMMES) was devel-
oped by Evans [23] at Creighton University as an educational tool for different
health professionals; but the system found its best application as a consultant clini-
cal nursing expert system. Using Creighton’s time-sharing computer, a nurse could
request a protocol for the care of a specific condition (such as emphysema) and then
use the protocol consultant of COMMES to tailor a set of recommendations into an
actual care plan for the specific patient. By guiding the nurse through the patient’s
signs and symptoms, the system’s nursing diagnosis consultant would aid in arriv-
ing at a diagnosis and possible etiologies [24]. In addition, the system could provide
a general nursing plan by medical diagnosis or by a diagnosis related group (DRG).
Ryan [64, 65] described COMMES as an expert system that involved the structure
7 Nursing Informatics: Past, Present, and Future 397
of the domain of nursing, with a semantic network based on the conceptual relation-
ships of more than 20,000 terms; having the ability to search heuristically based on
if, then rules that explored their relationships. Bloom [10] reported a prototype sys-
tem for COMMES that used an IBM PC computer. Evans [25] reported that care
plans devised by nurses using COMMES were thorough and appropriate. Ozbolt
and associates [59] at the University of Michigan also reported developing a proto-
type expert system for nursing practice. To derive nursing diagnoses from client
data, they designed algorithms that consisted of “if, then” decision rules. The deci-
sion rules were based upon knowledge derived from the clinical literature, as for
example, about normal and abnormal patterns of elimination and self care when
applied to bowel elimination problems.
In 1985 a survey of 28 hospital information system vendors found that approxi-
mately 86 % of the vendors offered a product to support nursing activities; 88 % of
the products supplied featured needs of the nursing manager; 83 % provided a
patient classification system; and 25 % provided support for quality assurance activ-
ities [60]. A survey conducted in 1988 found 16 vendors who offered a nursing
information system (NIS) that supported nurse functions in general medical and
surgical units; nurse charting was provided by ten vendors; intake/output calcula-
tions and tracking vital signs by nine vendors; results reporting, nurse care planning
and graphic charting by seven; interfacing to the HIS and other departmental sys-
tems by six; and nurse assessment, medication administration, admission-discharge-
transfer, order entry functions, and standard shift reporting by five vendors [20].
Nurses generally accepted HISs better than did physicians. A survey of registered
nurses at the 1150-bed Methodist Hospital of Indiana that had used the Technicon
MIS for 5 years found that 86 % of the nurses agreed they liked working with the
HIS [12]. In the 1980s NISs were probably the most widely used HIS subsystem in
the United States.
During the late 1980s, McCloskey, Bulecheck, and colleagues from the University
of Iowa began development of what would become known as the NIC, or Nursing
Intervention Classification [13]. The first identified comprehensive classification of
treatments that both nurses and physicians perform, the NIC was developed with
research funding from the National Institute for Nursing Research (NINR) and
includes physiological and psychosocial aspects of illness treatment, prevention,
and health promotion.
With advances in technology and increased activity in the development of nurs-
ing classification systems to standardize nursing data, the American Nurses
Association formed a Council in 1984 and adopted a resolution identifying the need
for nurses to use information systems for the purposes of collecting and utilizing
data in practice, education administration and research, with the specific recommen-
dation that the Nursing Minimum Data Set be tested and implemented [51].
Additionally, the National League for Nursing created a Computers in Nursing
forum in 1985 to influence the development of educational materials and advance
educational nursing informatics related programming. In 1988, the first graduate
education program in nursing was opened at the University of Maryland, led by
Gassert and Mills under the leadership of Heller, the school’s dean. Subsequently,
398 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
non-standard terms for nursing’s contribution to care, thus hampering the ability to
collect data across systems to measure quality or conduct research.
Community Nursing Centers (CNCs), which were an important approach to pro-
viding community-based, nurse-managed care in the 1990s, also had informatics
challenges specific to nursing documentation without a unified nursing language
system. Centers affiliated with the University of Rochester and the University of
Wisconsin were challenged by the need to collect, track, and analyze clinical data.
In the NLN published book Nursing Centers: the Time Is Now [53], Lundeen and
Walker, directors at the two centers, discussed challenges specific to clinical data
collection and management for research, health professions education (faculty prac-
tice), and health policy purposes. Both leaders identified the need for relational
databases for CNC management, staffing, tracking costs and quality of care. Walker
and Walker [78] clarified the need for “information engineering” to address six criti-
cal success factors for CNCs: “1. Development of diverse revenue streams; 2. Cost
control; 3. Providing and documenting quality services (care); 4. Client and faculty
practitioner satisfaction; 5. Development of practice-based research; and 6.
Integration of the CNC into the educational activities of the School of Nursing.”
In 1990, the American Medical Informatics Association (AMIA) was founded
through a merger of three existing informatics associations, one of which was the
Symposium on Computer Applications in Medical Care (SCAMC). Since nurses
had been involved, a Nursing Informatics Working Group (NI-WG) was formed
with Ozbolt as the first chair. Nurses subsequently assumed interdisciplinary leader-
ship roles in AMIA and have continued to current times. The College of American
Pathologists worked to integrate nursing concepts into the Systematic Nomenclature
of Medicine (SNOMED). Also in 1999, Ozbolt brought together nurse informati-
cians, experts on terminology, members from the federal government and vendor
community, and representatives of professional organizations to attempt to interface
languages with semantic interoperability. Although imperfect, the Unified Medical
Language System (UMLS) and SNOMED – CT did incorporate nursing concepts.
To date, this remains a challenge for progress in nursing informatics.
Nursing informatics was also gaining acceptance and growing influence with
educators and nurse researchers. The University of Utah, University of Colorado,
Duke University, and other schools also established graduate programs, and the
University of Maryland awarded the first PhD in Nursing Informatics to Staggers.
In 1997 at the University of Colorado, Walker, the new dean Walker named Skiba
the first Associate Dean for Informatics and Academic Innovations to help develop
a new curriculum focused on theory-guided, evidence-based practice with a
increased focus on informatics.
Also, with the significant advances in technology identified earlier in the 1990s,
Patricia Brennan initiated a new focus on the health benefits that new technologies
could provide to consumers and the need for increased computer-based education
and support to patients and caregivers in their homes. This emphasis on consumer
engagement in care in the turn of the century continues to gain momentum with
federal policy initiatives, technological advances, and increasing digital-oriented
populations of all ages.
400 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
In 2000, leading developers of nursing terminologies from the U.S., Europe, Latin
America, Australia and Asia gathered at a Nursing Terminology Summit confer-
ence to try to resolve issues related to nursing terminology with the International
Standards Organizations Technical Committee (ISO-TC). Subsequently, the ISO
work combined with the work of the Nursing Terminology Summit resulted in inte-
gration of nursing concepts and nursing interface terminologies mapped to concepts
in SNOMED-CT, ultimately in 2007 becoming SNOMED, an international refer-
ence terminology standard.
The need for informatics advancement became an imperative when two reports
from the Institute of Medicine related to patient safety were published. To Err is
Human (1999) and Crossing the Quality Chasm (2001) created a mandate for
improving the quality of care. In 2004, President Bush called for every American to
have an electronic health record by 2014 and established the office of the National
Coordinator of Health Information Technology. These actions stimulated the need
for adopting standards for interoperability of health information transactions across
settings. This policy decision resulted in the formation of the Health information
Technology Standards Panel (HITSP) in partnership with the American National
Standards Institute (ANSI). The other organization created from this federal policy
decision was a private, not-for-profit Certification Commission for Healthcare
Information Technology (CCHIT) to review and ensure hardware and software
products meet adopted standards. The first nursing language adopted was Saba’s
Clinical Care Classification System, and nurses have been well-represented on
HITSP, CCHIT and involved in other standards setting organizations including
SNOMED, Health Level 7 (HL7) and Logical Object Names, Identifiers and Codes
(LOINC). After serving in leadership roles in SNOMED and HL7, Warren became
the first nurse appointed to the National Committee on Vital and Health Statistics.
Other nurses continue to make contributions related to consumer-driven health
care. Continuing her work done in the 1990s on consumer-driven health care,
Brennan became the national director of a multi-site research program funded by
the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation to develop innovative approaches to personal
health records and tools for health management [11]. At the University of Maryland,
Nahm and colleagues are conducting research related to the use of personal and
family health records to assist family caregivers to manage care of older adults [43].
In 2004, with the leadership of Delaney from AMIA board and Sensmeier at
Health Information Management and Systems Society (HIMSS), 18 national and
regional nursing informatics groups established the Alliance of Nursing Informatics
(ANI), with the AMIA and HIMSS boards of directors agreeing to provide ongoing
support, coordination and leadership [33].
In 2004, after President George Bush created the Office of the National
Coordinator (ONC), several nurses attending the first HIT summit convened by
Brailer, then National Coordinator for Health IT. Since there were no nurses
included at the table nor were nurses even mentioned, a group of leaders met and
7 Nursing Informatics: Past, Present, and Future 401
resolved to strengthen the voice of the nursing profession at this important time in
history [78]. In 2005, the group held a strategy session to plan for an invitational
summit that would bring nurses together from academia, government, and industry
in what became the TIGER Initiative, an acronym for Technology Informatics
Guiding Education Reform. In 2006, over 100 nurses representing all walks of the
profession (not just nursing informatics specialists) met at the Uniformed Services
University of the Health Sciences. Together they articulated a vision that would
interweave nursing informatics technologies into nursing practice and education. In
what they designated as Phase I of TIGER, they identified seven pillars:
• Management and Leadership
• Education
• Communication and Collaboration
• Informatics Design
• Information Technology
• Policy
• Culture
To gain top level support for nursing informatics, the TIGER leadership sched-
uled the summit to coincide with the annual fall meeting of the American Association
of Colleges of Nursing (AACN) and invited deans from schools of nursing to a
reception and “gallery walk” that exhibited a number of emerging technologies.
During Phase II, initiated 6 months after the summit, TIGER reorganized its
action plan into nine key areas and formed nine collaboratives. Volunteers in each
group reviewed the literature, developed strategies/recommendations for
implementation and integration of nursing informatics across all groups within the
profession. With grassroots involvement of more than 1500 nurses, the nine collab-
oratives generated reports in their areas of focus:
• Standards and Interoperability
• Health Policy
• Informatics Competencies
• Education and Faculty Development
• Staff Development
• Leadership Development
• Usability and Clinical Application Design,
• Consumer Empowerment and Personal Health Record
• Virtual Learning Environment.
TIGER Phase III involved dissemination through numerous webinars across pro-
fessional organizations, universities, clinical settings, and presentations at national
and international meetings. Progress made through the TIGER initiative formed the
core of the fourth edition of Nursing Informatics: Where Technology and Caring
Meet, as reflected in the new subtitle that took the place of Where Caring and
Technology Meet used in previous editions [7].
In 2011, TIGER became the TIGER Initiative Foundation connected to the
Health Information Management and Systems Society (HIMSS). The TIGER Board
402 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
providers and the health care systems and empower patients with just-in-time access
to information and decision-support tools for address preferences and personalized
care.
References
1. ANA (American Nurses’ Association). Committee on research and studies: ANA blueprint for
research in nursing. Am J Nurs. 1962;62(8):69–71.
2. Aveni S. Nursing and computer technology – information overload or structured information?
Comput Hosp. 1982;3:26.
3. Ball M. Integrating information systems in health care. In: Bakker AR, et al., editors. Towards
new hospital information systems. Amsterdam: IOS Press; 1988. p. 39–44.
4. Ball M, Hannah KJ. Hospital information systems: the nursing role in selection and implemen-
tation. In: Hannah KJ, Guillemin E, Conklin D, editors. Nursing uses of computer and infor-
mation and information science. Amsterdam: Elsevier Science; 1985. p. 121–6.
5. Ball MJ. An overview of total medical information systems. Methods Inf Med.
1971;10(2):73–82.
6. Ball MJ, Hannah KJ, Browne JD. Using computers in nursing. Reston: Reston Publishing;
1984.
7. Ball MJ, Douglas JV, Hinton WP. Nursing informatics: where technology and caring meet. 4th
ed. London: Springer; 2011
8. Barnett GO, Zielstorff RD. Data systems can enhance or hinder medical, nursing activities.
Hospitals. 1977;51:157–61.
9. Bennett HD, Coleman EA, Parry C, Bodenheimer T, Chen EH. Health coaching for patients
with chronic illness. Fam Pract Manag. 2010;17:24–9.
10. Bloom KC, Leitner JE, Solano JL. Development of an expert system prototype to generate
nursing care plans based on nursing diagnoses. Comput Nurs. 1986;5:140–5.
11. Brennan PF. Health informatics and community health: support for patients as collaborators in
care. Methods Inf Med. 1999;38:274–8.
12. Brown A. A computer generated aid for scheduling operating rooms. Proc AAMSI Congress.
1984;259–99.
13. Bulechek GM, Butcher HK, Dochterman JMM, Wagner C. Nursing Interventions Classification
(NIC). Amsterdam: Elsevier Health Sciences; 2013.
14. Chapman R, Ranzenberger J, Killpack AK, Pryor TA. Computerized charting at the bedside:
promoting the nursing process. Proc SCAMC. 1984;8:700–2.
15. Charters K. Computers as management tools: acceptance by nursing personnel. Proc SCAMC.
1981;725–7.
16. Childs BW. Bedside terminals – status and the future. Healthc Comput Commun.
1988;5:12–4.
17. Cook M, McDowell W. Changing to an automated information system. Am J Nurs.
1975;75:46–51.
18. Crosley JM. Computerized nursing care planning utilizing nursing diagnosis. Proc SCAMC.
1984;642–5.
19. DeMarco JP. Automating nursing’s paper work. AJN: Am J Nurs. 1965;65:74–7.
20. Drazen EL. Bedside computer systems overview. In: Abrami PF, Johnson JE, editors. Bringing
computers to the hospital. New York: Springer Publishing; 1990. p. 1–15.
21. ECRI (Emergency Care Research Institute). Clinical information systems improve with new
standard. Health Technol Trends. 1989;1:3–6.
22. Edmunds L. Computers for inpatient nursing care. What can be accomplished? Comput Nurs.
1984;2:102.
404 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
52. Monahan ML, Kiley M, Patterson C. Bar code technology: its use within a nursing information
system. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;26–30.
53. Murphy B. Nursing centers: the time is now. Washington, DC: National League for Nursing;
1995.
54. NANDA. Defining the knowledge of nursing. Available at http://www.nanda.org/nanda-
international-history-1973-9.html. Accessed August 9, 2015.
55. Nightingale F. Notes on hospitals. London: Longman; 1863.
56. Olsson DE. Automating nurses’ notes: first step in a computerized record system. Hospitals.
1967;41:64.
57. Ozbolt JG, Saba VK. A brief history of nursing informatics in the United States of America.
Nurs Outlook. 2008;56:199–205.e2.
58. Ozbolt JG. Designing information systems for nursing practice: data base and knowledge base
requirements of different organizational technologies. Comput Methods Programs Biomed.
1986;22:61–5.
59. Ozbolt JG, Samuel Schultz I, Swain MAP, Abraham IL, Farchaus-Stein K. Developing an
expert system for nursing practice. Proc SCAMC. 1984;654.
60. Partin MH, Monahan ML. Computer-based information systems models. J Med Syst.
1985;9:5–18.
61. Pesce J. Bedside terminals: medTake. MD Comput. 1988;5:16.
62. Romano CA. Computer technology and nursing: 1st national conference. 1983;26–33.
63. Rosenberg M, Carriker D. Automating nurses’ notes. AJN: Am J Nurs. 1966;66:1021–3.
64. Ryan SA. An expert system for nursing practice. Clinical decision support. J Med Syst.
1985;9:29–41.
65. Ryan SA. An expert system for nursing practice. Clinical decision support. Comput Nurs.
1985;3:77–84.
66. Saba VK, McCormick KA. Essentials of computers for nurses. Philadelphia: Lippincott; 1986.
67. Saba VK, O’Hare PA, Zuckerman AE, Boondas J, Levine E, Oatway DM. A nursing interven-
tion taxonomy for home health care. Nurs Health Care. 1991;12:296–9.
68. Saba VK. Nursing information systems. In: Saba VK, Rieder KA, Pocklington DB, editors.
Nursing and computers, an anthology. New York: Springer; 1989. p. 3–12.
69. Saba VK. Computer applications in nursing. Proc SCAMC. 1983;467–8.
70. Saba VK. Introduction. Proc SCAMC. 1982;515.
71. Saba VK. Nursing diagnosis in computerized patient classification systems. In: Carroll-
Johnson RM, editor. Classification in nursing diagnoses. New York: Lippincott; 1989. p. 84–8.
72. Simborg DW. Rational staffing of hospital nursing services by functional activity budgeting.
Public Health Rep. 1976;91:118.
73. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. A preliminary report on the use of electronic data processing tech-
nics in the description and evaluation of disability. Arch Phys Med Rehabil. 1962;43:22–35.
74. Staggers N, Thompson CB. The evolution of definitions for nursing informatics: a critical
analysis and revised definition. JAMIA. 2002;9:255–61.
75. Stefanchik MF. Point-of-care information systems: improving patient care. Comput Healthc.
1987;8:7–8.
76. Vallbona C. The influence of computer technology in nursing care. Proc AMIA 1982;140–4.
77. Van Brunt E, Collen M. Hospital computer systems. In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer
systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 114–47.
78. Walker PH. The TIGER initiative: a call to accept and pass the baton. Nursing. 2010;28:352.
79. Walker PH, Walker J. Community nursing center informatics for business, practice, research
and education. In: Murphy B, editor. Nursing centers: the time is now. Washington, DC:
National League for Nursing; 1995.
80. Walker PH, Baker JJ, Chiverton P. Costs of interdisciplinary practice in a school-based health
center. Outcomes Manag Nurs Pract. 1998;2:37–44.
81. Werley HH, Devine EC, Westlake SK, Manternach CA. Testing and refinement of the nursing
minimum data set. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;816–7.
406 M.F. Collen and P.H. Walker
82. Werley HH, Lang NM. Preface. In: Werley HH, Lang NM, editors. Identification of the nurs-
ing minimum data set. New York: Springer. pp xix–xxii.
83. Wiener F, Weil MH, Carlson RW. Computer systems for facilitating management of the criti-
cally ill. Comput Biol Med. 1982;12:1–15.
84. Young KM. Informatics for healthcare professionals. Philadelphia: FA Davis; 2000.
85. Zielstorff RD. Computers in nursing. Germantown: Aspen Publishers; 1980.
86. Zielstorff RD. Computers in nursing administration. Proc SCAMC. 1981:717–20.
87. Zielstorff RD, McHugh ML, Clinton J. Computer design criteria for systems that support the
nursing process. Kansas City: American Nurses’ Association; 1988.
Chapter 8
Specialized High-Intensity Clinical Settings:
A Brief Review
Abstract In the early 1960s, some medical centers began to develop intensive care
unit (ICU) information systems to monitor critically ill patients. These used a com-
bination of devices to obtain measurements and derive variables. One generated a
severity index to guide treatment and compute the probability of survival; another
saved data to use in analysis and educational simulations. Studies of the clinical
effectiveness of such systems were mixed, despite findings that variations in hospi-
tal death rates were associated with variations in care processes. While few hospi-
tals had emergency department (ED) subsystems installed by the end of the 1980s,
some participated in community emergency medical systems that routed patients to
hospitals for treatment. Despite progress in intervening years, recent studies find
that both settings face continued challenges. The data-intensive ICU faces interop-
erability issues arising from incompatible piece of monitoring equipment. For the
ED, exchange of patient information from other settings remains difficult and evi-
dence as to the impact of health information technology remains limited.
Two hospital settings have an undeniable hold on the mass media and the public
imagination: the intensive care unit (ICU) and the emergency department (ED).
Both of these specialized high-intensity environments rely on health information
technology (IT) and an array of health informatics applications to treat patients who
are severely ill or injured and potentially at risk of death. Beyond those commonali-
ties, there are significant differences. The ICU treats critically ill patients transferred
in from other care settings; the ED admits patients from the community to treat
Patients in shock, such as from serious trauma or from an acute myocardial infarc-
tion, usually are admitted to a specialized ICU where they are attached to appropri-
ate life-support and monitoring systems. Intensive care unit is a term applied to
coronary care units, shock units, postoperative recovery rooms, and similar highly
specialized facilities for the care of critically ill patients; and ICUs were designed
for adults, children, and newborns. The primary function of the computer in the ICU
is to collect the data from the physiological monitoring instruments, integrate all the
patient data collected from all sources into a computer-stored patient database,
interface the local ICU database with the MIS computer-stored patient record, fur-
nish alarms for abnormal measurements, and aid in the selection of treatments for
the ICU patient.
In the early 1960s some medical centers in the United States began to report the
development of ICU information systems. In 1962 at the Texas Institute for Research
and Rehabilitation (TIRR), the ICU system recorded the chemical composition of
gases (oxygen, carbon dioxide, and nitrogen) in inspired and expired air; lung-
function monitors (pneumogram for pulmonary ventilation, pneumotachogram for
respiratory rate, and spirogram for respiratory volume); cardiovascular monitors
(electrocardiogram, phonocardiogram, cardio-tachometer, and vectorcardiogram);
and neuromuscular phenomena (electromyogram and nerve impulses) [14, 39].
TIRR developed a bedside computer terminal system for monitoring the physio-
logic variables in postoperative patients. In 1962 they reported beginning the devel-
opment of an automated monitoring system for the acquisition of temperature,
blood pressure, pulse (heart) rate, and respiratory rate. In 1965 their bedside moni-
tor collected data from sensors that continued to measure the four vital signs
described and that provided graphic plots of these variables, along with displays of
the patient’s electrocardiogram and an impedance pneumogram of pulmonary ven-
tilation [41]. In 1966, with an analog-to-digital computer interfaced to an IBM 1410
8 Specialized High-Intensity Clinical Settings: A Brief Review 409
computer, they recorded analog signals on analog tape and then entered the digi-
tized data into punched cards. They developed computer programs for the automatic
computation of results, and the computer printout of reports. They also developed
an online computer program to calculate the fluid and electrolyte needs of critically
ill patients [42]. In the second half of the 1960s, their monitoring system was an
integral part of their TIRR HIS.
In 1965 Weil and associates at the University of Southern California began to use
in the Los Angeles County General Hospital’s critical care ward, an IBM 1710
computer equipped with an analog-to-digital converter to concurrently monitor
multiple signals collected from critically ill patients in circulatory shock. They used
a combination of devices to obtain 11 primary measurements and 25 derived vari-
ables. On request, or at desired intervals, the system automatically reported heart
and respiratory rates, arterial and venous pressures, cardiac output, peripheral vas-
cular resistance, mean circulation time, central blood volume, total work of the
heart and stroke work, and urine output. In addition to these online measurements,
when blood was sampled, the plasma volume, red-cell mass, blood pH value, and
oxygen and carbon dioxide pressures were determined off-line. Data were manually
entered for the patient’s age, height, and weight, as were nurses’ notes for fluid
intake and medications received. Summary reports were generated on request, as
well as routinely at the end of each 8-h shift and every 24 h. Reports were printed
automatically by typewriter, and also were transmitted by closed-circuit television
for display at the patient’s bedside. Trends of selected parameters were graphed by
an online plotter. The data were also punched into cards, which were used for inves-
tigational purposes [37, 46].
In 1967 they transferred their unit to the Hollywood Presbyterian Hospital which
had a six-bed coronary care unit, a nine-bed ICU, and a shock ward [47]. They
upgraded their ICU system with a Xerox Data Systems Sigma 5 computer with an
analog-to-digital converter connected to the various monitoring instruments, and
used five visual display terminals with keyboards and a line printer. A larger televi-
sion display in the ICU permitted users to read current significant information from
any location within the room. They developed a statistical program that derived a
severity index of the patient’s status to guide treatment, as well as a predictive for-
mula for the probability of survival; and the index and the probability of survival
were computed online. By 1978 they had advanced their data management system
so that at the core of the system was the computer-based patient record that con-
tained all of the data generated during the entire stay in the ICU. Laboratory tests,
x-ray reports, and progress notes in free text were all entered; so the complete record
of each patient was available for online retrieval. By the early 1980s they had one of
the most advanced ICU systems for the time, with improved electronic pre-
processing to increase the efficiency and speed of data acquisition, signal analysis,
and online computer accessibility to patient records [49]. Weil and Rackow advised
that a pressing problem was the rapid increase in the numbers and complexities of
procedures that were performed in ICUs, and with a high cost. By the late 1960s
computer-based pulmonary function tests were also being performed routinely in
the ICUs of the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City [9] and at the Los Angeles County
410 M.F. Collen and M.J. Ball
In 1973 the estimated cost for patient monitoring using this system was $75 per
patient day (excluding the cost of computer technicians) [26]. By 1974 in the LDS
Hospital they were monitoring a thoracic surgery operating suite, a ten-bed thoracic
surgery unit, a four-bed coronary care unit, a six-bed general surgery unit, and a
three-bed pulmonary ICU [10]. In 1980 the LDS ICU system consisted of a group
of four Tandem computers in their computer center linked to minicomputers located
within the ICU [5]. In 1982 they had increased to six Tandem computers and six
minicomputers in the ICU, serving 67 ICU beds [12]. In each patient’s room, they
placed a computer terminal with adequate memory to store several pages of the
patient’s data to gain the added benefits of providing nurses with bedside terminals.
Since they had found that clinical laboratory test findings made up almost one-half
of the data reviewed by physicians at the ICU patient’s bedside, they expected the
installation of bedside terminals would improve the data acquisition and charting
process, and would result in saving nurses’ time. However, contrary to their expecta-
tions, a study that used work sampling to measure the time spent by nurses in all
activities related to patient care before and after the implementation of computer-
based charting did show a 12 % decrease in time the nurses spent in direct patient
care, but a 33 % increase in charting after the computerization [4].
In 1967 Osborn and associates at the Pacific Medical Center in San Francisco
initiated an ICU system using an IBM 1800 computer. They monitored two patients
simultaneously for their heart rates with the electrocardiogram, and for the arterial
pressure and pulse rate. With their first prototype they found the problem of false
alarms disturbing [31]. In 1969 they reported that they had enlarged the size of their
ICU, and added more equipment to provide full online monitoring capabilities for
circulatory, respiratory, blood, and gas measurements, with oscilloscope and televi-
sion displays and a variety of printouts. They solved the problem of excessive false
alarms by requiring the coincidence of exceeding alarm-limit settings in both ECG
and vascular channels, which effectively reduced false alarms from 330 to 8 in a
similar period of study [29]. As a test in 1973, using a remote terminal attached by
phone line they began to monitor a patient in the post-operative cardiac surgical unit
at the Mt. Sinai Hospital in New York City. In 1973 they moved into a new hospital
where their system served five beds in the cardiopulmonary ICU. However, they did
not yet have a full database management system with a computer-based patient
record integrated with the remainder of the hospital database. They evaluated the
effectiveness of their ICU system as to death rates, length of stay in the unit, days
on the respirator, days with an arterial line, number of arterial blood gases; and
nurse-to-patient ratio per-day. The results showed essentially no difference between
the monitored and control groups; however, the nurses and the doctors felt that the
system was useful in patient care, and they felt more secure with the more compre-
hensive, timely data obtained from the system [22].
In 1967 Sheppard [35, 36] and associates at the University of Alabama in
Birmingham initiated an ICU system for two beds in their cardiac surgery postop-
erative care unit, where they employed an IBM 1800 computer to monitor their
patients and to implement rules and logic for the treatment of the patients. The com-
puter was programmed to acquire automatically, at 5-min intervals, a variety of sig-
412 M.F. Collen and M.J. Ball
nals and to digitize and display the measurements at the patient’s bedside. A metering
pump measured the medications that were administered intravenously and the
amount of blood infused. They developed rules for the infusion of blood in patients
after open-heart surgery, and blood was infused by the system automatically using
these rules. Approximately 1,800 patients were treated with the automated system
between July 1967 and April 1972 [34]. Sheppard was the first to do what was called
closed-loop control and showed a significant effect on the time to normalize patient’s
fluid balance when the infusion of blood was automatically controlled by the com-
puter system in a closed loop feedback mode based on left atrial pressure which is
related to stroke volume and cardiac output. In 7 years the automated care system
was used in the postoperative observation and treatment of 4,624 patients [2]. By
1979, 14 cardiac surgical beds in their ICU were instrumented for measurement and
monitoring; ten beds were connected to a Hewlett-Packard 2112 computer, and four
beds were connected to a DEC PDP 11/20 computer [35]. A similar computer-con-
trolled, automatic closed-loop, blood replacement system was used for the post-
operative care of patients who had undergone coronary-artery bypass surgery at
Heineman Medical Research Center in Charlotte, North Carolina [28]. Westenskow
[48], who used a closed-loop control system for anesthesia at the University of Utah,
found that only eight universities in the United States had published reports of appli-
cations that used closed-loop systems for control of fluid replacement (blood or
intravenous medications), blood pressure, or anesthesia delivery.
In the 1970s some use of minicomputers was reported for ICU systems, such as
the LINC-8 computer at the Medical College of Wisconsin [1] and the DEC PDP-11
computer at the Naval Regional Medical Center in Portsmouth, Virginia [6]. A good
review of the status of computer monitoring in patient care in the early 1970s was
written by Glaeser and Thomas [16]. In 1976 A.D. Little evaluated ICUs by compar-
ing units with-and-without computer-based monitoring. They reported there was no
definitive, quantitative evidence to indicate that computer-based patient monitoring
systems changed overall patient mortality or morbidity; however, the report con-
cluded that automated computer systems could save significant staff time amount-
ing to one nurse-per-shift in an 8–12 bed unit. Furthermore, when the computer
performed calculations for the staff, these calculations could save considerable phy-
sician time, and promote accurate measurement and better understanding of the
patient’s status [25]. It soon became apparent that in an ICU system a data manage-
ment system was essential to integrate all the local data collected and processed in
the ICU, and to interface with the MIS to use any patient data collected in other MIS
subsystems. Although the ICU information subsystem was basically similar to any
other clinical specialty information subsystem, the database management program
was more difficult to develop than was the physiologic monitoring component. In
1974 the coronary care unit at the University of Chicago established a computer-
based patient record based on the data-collection techniques developed by Slack
(see Sect. 5.4). Patient data were recorded on a multipage form, which a clerk used
to enter the data into a minicomputer by answering the questions displayed on the
screen. The system was cumbersome and soon was revised to be compatible with
other clinical subsystems in the HIS and clinics [50].
8 Specialized High-Intensity Clinical Settings: A Brief Review 413
Kezdi and associates at the Cox Heart Institute initiated a cardiac ICU monitoring
system for a six-bed coronary care unit at the affiliated Kettering Memorial Hospital.
They used an IBM 1800 computer to help with the enormous volume of measure-
ments coming from all of their monitor equipment. Analog preprocessors conditioned
the signals before the data were transmitted to the digital computer; and this process-
ing greatly reduced the number of computations performed by the computer. In addi-
tion to the usual variables monitored in an ICU, their computer also provided trend
analyses, and allowed a prediction of future trends. They also used LINC and PDP-8
computers for the development and testing of their programs [40].
In the 1980s more ICU systems began to use microcomputers. The Methodist
Hospital in Houston, Texas, with 12 ICU beds, implemented a Mennen Medical
Bedside Monitoring System that used microprocessor interfaces linked by a local
network to a central minicomputer [30]. The National Institutes of Health (NIH)
Clinical Center ICU had four computer systems operating: one for patient monitor-
ing and the others for software development, research, and instrumentation. In 1980
they reported installing Hewlett-Packard minicomputers for their ICU overall data
management [27]. Microcomputers in the ICU were reported at the Johns Hopkins
Hospital using a Radio Shack Color Computer [15]; at the University of Missouri
Health Sciences Center in Columbia using an IBM PC/XT [17]; and also at the
Cleveland Clinic using an IBM PC/XT [38].
In 1980 Greenburg [18] reviewed the status of computers in ICUs, and wrote that
then current research focused on the design of effective man-machine systems with
particular emphasis on data acquisition, the database, and adjuncts for medical deci-
sion making. ICU terminals with improved graphical reports and video images pro-
vided combined digital, pictorial, bivariate, and bar displays of complex hemodynamic
data [33]. Siegel and Coleman and associates at the University of Maryland Institute
for Emergency Medical Services Systems developed a method of displaying the large
volume of data so that the rapidly changing status of patients in the ICU could be
monitored more readily. The computer output of data from a portion of their cardiovas-
cular program was arranged in a circle rather than in the usual tabular or linear, graphic
formats. The various test measurements were all normalized by comparison to normal
persons’ values, so that all normal values would arrange themselves around a zero-
value circle. Any variations from normal would then project above or below the zero
circle; thus patterns for different abnormal states could be easily recognized.
In 1986 Gardner at the University of Utah School of Medicine wrote a compre-
hensive review of ICU systems. He described their role in monitoring and providing
alarms for important physiologic variables in critically ill patients. He emphasized
the need for a total integrated data management system to provide adequate alerts
and suggestions for treatment based on the total clinical database. He reported that
all of the estimated 75,000 adult, pediatric, and neonatal intensive care beds operat-
ing in the United States were equipped with some type of physiological monitor
[11]. Few institutions, however, used microcomputer-based monitoring systems to
provide alarms, arrhythmia monitors, and digital data processing. Although Gardner
found 11 manufacturers in the United States that sold ICU bedside monitors, the
number of commercial computer-based ICU patient data-management systems in
414 M.F. Collen and M.J. Ball
routine use in 1986 was only 14–20 manufactured by Hewlett-Packard and 15 made
by Mennen Medical; with each system for 16 beds costing about $100,000. He cited
only nine institutions in the United States that used such ICU computer-based data-
management systems.
Knaus reported that by 1988, there were 6,556 ICUs in the United States with a
total of 86,543 beds. Intensive care accounted for approximately 7 % of all hospital
beds, 15–20 % of hospital expenses, and approximately 1 % of the gross national
product. To evaluate the effectiveness of ICUs, Knaus developed a prognostic scor-
ing system for critically ill patients, which he called the Acute Physiology and
Chronic Health Evaluation (APACHE). Using APACHE, he found substantial varia-
tions in hospital death rates which appeared to be associated with distinct variations
in the process of care.
By the end of the 1980s, the technology for ICU systems had evolved to only
partially satisfy its two major functional requirements: (1) the need for physiologic
monitoring devices that would also automatically administer medications and
blood, using closed-loop feedback algorithms; and (2) the need to be integrated into
an HIS subsystem with a comprehensive patient computer-based record. There was
still a need to learn how to better aid the extremely complex clinical decision pro-
cesses involved in the minute-to-minute care of the critically ill patient.
Just as in the surgery suite, the emergency department (ED) and the intensive care
unit (ICU) in a hospital have a common need to provide urgent care for critically ill
patients. These departments use computer technology both for their monitoring
instrumentation and for data processing. When a patient was admitted to the emer-
gency department of a hospital, clinical decisions often had to be made without
adequate information about the past history of the patient. An MIS had the advan-
tage of being able to immediately provide to the emergency room staff any relevant
past information as to prior hospital or outpatient care received at that medical cen-
ter. To achieve the desired 24-h availability of patients’ records, Ayers and associ-
ates [3] at Georgetown University School of Medicine adapted their pediatric
department’s computer-based patient record for use as an emergency room record.
Using their experience with self-administered patient histories, Greist and associ-
ates [19] at the University of Wisconsin placed a computer interviewing terminal in
the emergency room. They reported that about 85 % of the patients entering their
emergency room were not urgently ill and could use the terminal for self-
administered histories as they had in their office practice.
Although it was evident that the emergency room could benefit from an MIS sub-
system, even by the end of the 1980s few hospitals had installed an information
system for their emergency room. Some hospital emergency departments partici-
pated in community emergency medical systems that directed ambulances to trans-
port emergency patients to the nearest available hospital emergency room. In the
1970s some cities (for example, Philadelphia with 37 emergency rooms scattered
8 Specialized High-Intensity Clinical Settings: A Brief Review 415
throughout the city) used a computer model to assist in the planning of their emer-
gency care system. The model considered the severity rating of the emergency, the
time of day, the known patient load and past experience for each emergency room,
and the estimated transit time [20]. In 1976 with the increasing use of emergency
rooms by patients who did not need immediate care, the De Paul Hospital in Norfolk,
Virginia, placed at the entrance to their emergency room a nurse who performed a
triage assessment of each patient. Those patients who were not acutely ill were inter-
viewed by a clerk who used a display terminal to enter the patient data for storage on
magnetic tape. The data were later batch processed into their MIS mainframe com-
puter and were used to establish a medical record such as for an office patient. The
more acute and critically ill patients were admitted and treated immediately, and their
medical records were completed later [23]. In 1977 Tri-City Hospital in Oceanside,
California, used a portable computer to create and store a patient record on floppy
disks for each emergency-room patient. Their database was linked to clinical support
knowledge bases for differential diagnosis, poisoning problems, and others [13].
In 2015 De Georgia [7] and colleagues at University Hospitals Case Medical Center
in Cleveland, Ohio, reviewed the status of information technology in the ICU and
identified the areas that remain challenging. Their review of efforts to introduce
computers into the ICU focused on work beginning in the mid 1960s [37]. Advances
followed in the 1970s and 1980s, with significant improvements in the 1990s as
clinical functionality increased and access to the Internet became available. By
2015, several vendors marketed clinical information systems that offered “end-to-
end platforms for the ICU,” yet serious limitations remained, including “incompat-
ibilities among monitoring equipment, proprietary limitations from industry, and
the absence of standard data formatting.” They conclude that the integration of large
amounts of data, both numeric and waveforms, will require the development of a
critical care informatics architecture [7] in order to realize the full benefits that
health information technology offers.
In 2011 Handel [21] and associates reviewed the findings of a 2002 consensus con-
ferenc on the use of information technology to improve the quality and safety of
emergency room care and presented a research agenda. In 2015 Selck and Decker
reported on the adoption of health information technology in hospital emergency
departments and its impact, citing findings from the 2007–2010 National Hospital
Ambulatory Medical Care Survey conducted by the Centers for Disease Control and
Prevention’s National Center for Health Statistics [32]. Their analysis showed that
416 M.F. Collen and M.J. Ball
the percent of visits seen in an ED with “at least a basic health IT system more than
doubled from 25 % in 2007 to 69 % in 2010, and the percent of visits seen in an ED
with an advanced system increased tenfold from 3 to 31 %.” EDs in urban areas,
with high visit volumes, and in teaching hospitals were more likely to have advanced
systems. They found that waiting times decreased in EDs with advanced systems,
while the number of tests ordered increased, and concluded that advanced health IT
systems in the ED may improve efficiency, but were unable to determine whether
such systems reduced costs or improved patient outcomes.
While the ICU has experienced a proliferation of technological devices in the ICU,
the ED is a relatively late adopter of specialized information systems. Each setting
faces challenges posted by the need for interoperability among multiple devices
within the ICU and across myriad health and community systems for the ED, and
integration with their patients’ electronic health records.
References
1. Ackmann JJ. A computer system for neurosurgical patient monitoring. Comput Programs
Biomed. 1979;10:81–8.
2. Acton JC, Sheppard LC, Kouchoukos NT, Kirklin JW. Automated care systems for critically
ill patients following cardiac surgery. In: Kemper K, editor. Computers in cardiology. Long
Beach: IEEE Computer Society; 1974. p. 111–5.
3. Ayers WR, Murray DB, Aller JC, Montgomery EE. Mobilizing the emergency room record: a
case study in the capture of technology developed elsewhere for use in health care delivery.
Comput Biol Med. 1973;3:153–63.
4. Bradshaw KE, Sittig DF, Gardner RM, Pryor TA, Budd M. Computer-based data entry for
nurses in the ICU. MD Comput. 1988;6:274–80.
5. Clemmer TP, Gardner RM, Orme Jr J. Computer support in critical care medicine. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;3:1557–61.
6. Comerchero H, Thomas G, Shapira G, Greatbatch M, Hoyt JW. A micro-computer based sys-
tem for the management of the critically ill. Proc SCAMC 1978;634–44.
7. DeGeorgia MA, Kaffashi F, Jacono FJ, Loparo KA. Information technology in critical care:
review of monitoring and data acquisition systems for patient care and research. Sci World
J. 2015; Article ID 727694. http://dx.doi.org/10.1155/2015/727694.
8. Deller SE, Lewis FJ, Quinn ML. Utilization of a small computer for reat-time continuous
patient monitoring. Proc 1971 ACM Annual Conf. 1971;622–39.
9. Dickman ML, Schmidt CD, Gardner RM, Marshall HW, Day WC, Warner HR. On-line com-
puterized spirometry in 738 normal adults. Am Rev Respir Dis. 1969;100:780.
10. Gardner RM. Computerized intensive care monitoring at LDS hospital: progress and develop-
ment. In: Kemper K, editor. Computers in cardiology. Long Beach: IEEE Computer Society;
1974. p. 97–105.
11. Gardner RM. Computerized management of intensive care patients. MD Comput.
1986;3:36–51.
12. Gardner RM, West BJ, Pryor TA, Larsen KG, Warner HR, Clemmer TP, et al. Computer-based
ICU data acquisition as an aid to clinical decision-making. Crit Care Med. 1982;10:823–30.
8 Specialized High-Intensity Clinical Settings: A Brief Review 417
13. Garrick RM. What’s a computer doing in the ER? Am Med News. 1978;21(suppl 9).
14. Geddes LA, Hoff HS, Spencer WA, Vallbona C. Acquisition of physiologic data at the bedside.
A progress report. Am J Med Electron. 1961;1:62–9.
15. Gladen HE. ICU Microcomputing on a shoestring: decisions when resources are limited. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;238–41.
16. Glaeser DH, Thomas LJ. Computer monitoring in patient care. Annu Rev Biophys Bioeng.
1975;4:449–76.
17. Goldman D, Rodey G. Microcomputer monitor in the neurosurgery ICU. Proc MEDINFO.
1986;459–61.
18. Greenburg AG. Computers in emergency systems, surgery, and intensive care units: an over-
view. Proc MEDINFO. 1980;26:1184–9.
19. Greist JH, Van Cura LJ, Kneppreth NP. A computer interview for emergency room patients.
Comput Biomed Res. 1973;6:257–65.
20. Hamilton WF. Systems analysis in emergency care planning. Med Care. 1974;12:152–62.
21. Handel DA, Wears RL, Nathanson LA, Pines JM. Using information technology to improve
the quality and safety of emergency care. Acad Emerg Med. 2011;18:e45–51.
22. Hilberman M, Kamm B, Tarter M, Osborn JJ. An evaluation of computer-based patient moni-
toring at Pacific Medical Center. Comput Biomed Res. 1975;8:447–60.
23. Hilton DH. Intelligent terminal expedites emergency room patient care. Comput Med.
1976;5:1–2.
24. Lewis FJ, Deller S, Quinn M, Lee B, Will R, Raines J. Continuous patient monitoring with a
small digital computer. Comput Biomed Res. 1972;5:411–28.
25. Little AD. Computer-based patient monitoring systems. Washington, DC: National Center for
Health Services Research; 1976.
26. Little AD. Evaluation of computer-based patient monitoring systems: final report. Appendix
D. A review of the MEDLAB system in the thoracic surgery intensive care unit at the Latter
Day Saints hospital. Washington, DC: National Center for Health Services Research; 1973.
27. Martino RL, Kempner KM, McClellan JR, McLees BD. Automation of a medical intensive
care environment with a flexible configuration of computer systems. Proc SCAMC.
1980;3:1562–8.
28. Masters TN. Beneficial aspects of computer-controlled blood replacement in cardiac surgical
patients. Coll Works Cardiopulm Dis. 1982;23:23.
29. Osborn JJ, Beumont JO, Raison JCA, Abbott RP. Computation for quantitative on-line mea-
surements in an intensive care ward. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors. Computers in bio-
medical research. New York: Academic; 1969. p. 207–37.
30. Pollizzi III JA, Stega M, Comerchero H, Milholland AV, Fox F. A structured network for the
clinical management of the critically ill. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1611–7.
31. Raison JCA, Beaumont JO, Russell JAG, Osborn JJ, Gerbode F. Alarms in an intensive care
unit: an interim compromise. Comput Biomed Res. 1968;1:556–64.
32. Selck FW, Decker SL. Health information technology adoption in the emergency department.
Health Serv Res. 2015. doi:10.1111/1475-6773.12307 [Epub ahead of print].
33. Shabot MM, Carlton PD, Sadoff S, Nolan-Avila L. Graphical reports and displays for complex
ICU data: a new, flexible and configurable method. Comput Methods Programs Biomed.
1986;22:111–6.
34. Sheppard LC, Kirklin JW, Kouchoukos NT. Computer-controlled interventions for the acutely
ill patient. In: Stacy RW, Waxman B, editors. Computers in biomedical research. New York:
Academic; 1974. p. 135–48.
35. Sheppard LC. The computer in the care of critically ill patients. Proc IEEE. 1979;67:1300–6.
36. Sheppard LC, Kouchoukos NT, Kurtts MA, Kirklin JW. Automated treatment of critically ill
patients following operation. Ann Surg. 1968;168:596.
37. Shubin H, Weil MH. Efficient monitoring with a digital computer of cardiovascular function
in seriously ill patients. Ann Intern Med. 1966;65:453–60.
38. Sivak ED, Gochberg JS, Fronek R, Scott D. Lessons to be learned from the design, develop-
ment, and implementation of a computerized patient care management system for the intensive
care unit. Proc SCAMC. 1987;614–9.
418 M.F. Collen and M.J. Ball
39. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. A preliminary report on the use of electronic data processing tech-
nics in the description and evaluation of disability. Arch Phys Med Rehabil. 1962;43:22–35.
40. Stacy RW. Comprehensive patient monitoring at Cox Heart Institute. Proc San Diego Biomed
Symp 1980;48–52.
41. Vallbona C, Geddes LA, Harrison GM, Hoff HE, Spencer WA. Physiological monitor: experi-
ence, clinical value and problems. Proceedings of the national telemetering conference,
Instrument Society of America; 1965. p. 126–9.
42. Vallbona C. Application of computers for hospital usage. J Chronic Dis. 1966;19:461–72.
43. Warner HR. Computer-based patient monitoring. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1969. p. 239–51.
44. Warner HR, Morgan JD. High-density medical data management by computer. Comput
Biomed Res. 1970;3:464–76.
45. Warner HR, Budkin A. A “link trainer” for the coronary care unit. Comput Biomed Res.
1968;2:135–44.
46. Weil MH. Experience with the use of a digital computer for the study and improved manage-
ment of the critically ill, and especially patients with circulatory shock. Proc on automated data
processing in hospitals. Elsinore, Denmark. 1966. p. 276–87.
47. Weil MH, Shubin H, Cady LD. Use of automated techniques in the management of the criti-
cally ill. In: Bekey GA, Schwartz MD, editors. Hospital information systems. New York:
Marcel Dekker; 1972. p. 333–81.
48. Westenskow DR. Automating patient care with closed-loop control. MD Comput.
1986;3:14–20.
49. Wiener F, Weil MH, Carlson RW. Computer systems for facilitating management of the criti-
cally ill. Comput Biol Med. 1982;12:1–15.
50. Yanowitz F, Fozzard HA. A medical information system for the coronary care unit. Arch Intern
Med. 1974;134:93–100.
Chapter 9
Information Systems for Clinical
Subspecialties
Lindberg [111] described the evolution of the various information systems for clini-
cal subspecialties (ISCSs) as the response to the need to keep in contact with the
evergrowing mass of new medical knowledge. The rapid development of so many
medical subspecialties strongly suggested that the growth of significant medical
knowledge outpaced the ability of most individuals to master it. Although some of
the earliest applications of computers to clinical medicine were in the clinical sub-
specialties, health professionals found these prototypes difficult to use since their
data entry devices were awkward and inefficient, their order entry functions were
not integrated, and their computer-based patient records lacked adequate standard-
ization, so their information system did not fulfill the functional and technical
requirements.
In 1968 a survey conducted for the National Center for Health Services Research
and Development reported that in the United States about half of the 1,200 hospitals
with more than 200 beds used computers for some business functions; but only
about 15 % of these had some operational clinical subsystem or medical research
computing applications [78]. Until the mid-1970s. the majority of hospitals sub-
scribed to out-of-hospital shared computing services. In the mid-1970s, lower-cost,
smaller, special-purpose minicomputers were introduced with the capabilities of
being located in different clinical departments, all linked to one or more central,
large mainframe computers [6]. In the mid-1970s a survey of computer applications
in approximately 100 hospitals in the United States reported that only about one-
third had clinical laboratory or other patient care applications [172]. In the 1980s
the advent of local area networks that linked multiple lower-cost minicomputers
permitted distributed information systems to be implemented in hospitals. Although
information systems for clinical subspecialties (ISCSs) were some of the earliest
and most advanced computer-based information systems in medicine, it was not
until the advent of distributed minicomputers equipped with interactive visual-
display terminals, that clinicians began to benefit from the ISCSs in direct patient
care. Minicomputers allowed each ISCS to develop its own internal information
system that best satisfied its own functional requirements.
Information systems for clinical subspecialties need to satisfy the many similar
functional and technical requirements for all clinical information systems, including
patient identification, registration and scheduling; and administrative and business
functions. However, their clinical applications comprised a more limited domain of
medical knowledge and clinical practice that varied with the clinical subspecialty
and its specialized diagnostic and treatment procedures. The ISCS’s primary objec-
tive is to provide the computer processing of information in support of the direct
care of patients in that subspecialty. As for any module in a system, the users of an
ISCS needed to first define exactly what they wanted the ISCS to do. Since an ISCS
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 421
from which the patient came, and also provide links to any needed external data-
bases; (7) provide a reliable computer system with an uninterruptible power supply;
(8) have a flexible information system design that could meet changing and
expanding requirements for technical and medical innovations; and (9) employ a
vocabulary of standard terms to facilitate exchange of information with other infor-
mation systems.
Since the exchange of clinical data between different databases required the use
of standard terms, in 1983 standards for the transmission of clinical data between
computers began to be developed [124]. The proposed standards addressed what
items of information should be included in defining an observation, what data struc-
ture should be employed to record an observation, how individual items should be
encoded and formatted, and what transmission media should be supported. Formal
attempts to improve the standardization of medical information were carried out by
collaborating committees, including the subcommittees on Computerized Systems
of the American Standards for Testing Materials (ASTM) that is the oldest of the
nonprofit standard setting societies and a standards-producing member of the
American National Standards Institute (ANSI) [153].
The ASTM technical subcommittee E31.12 on Medical Informatics considered
nomenclatures and medical records [61]. In 1988 ASTM’s subcommittee E31.11 on
Data Exchange Standards for Clinical Laboratory Results published its specifica-
tions E1238 for clinical data interchange, and set standards for the two-way digital
transmission of clinical data between different computers for laboratory, office, and
hospital systems; so that, as a simple example, all dates would be recorded as an
eight-character-string, YYYYMMDD. Thus the date January 12, 1988 would
always be transmitted as 19880112.
Health Level Seven (HL7), an organization made up of vendors, hospitals, and
consultants was formed in 1987 to develop interface standards for transmitting data
between applications that used different computers within hospital information sys-
tems [165]. The message content of HL7 was to conform to the International
Standards Organization (ISO) standards for the applications level 7 of the Open
Systems Interconnection (OSI) model. The HL7 standard used the same message
syntax, the same data types, and some of the same segment definitions as ASTM
1238 [123]. The Medical Data Interchange (MEDIX) P1157 committee of the
Institute of Electrical and Electronics Engineers (IEEE), formed at the Symposium
on Computer Applications in Medical Care (SCAMC) in 1987, was also developing
a set of standards, based on the ISO application-level standards, for the transferring
of clinical data over large networks from mixed sources, such as from a clinical
laboratory and a pharmacy, for both intra- and inter-hospital communications [154].
Every ISCS had to accurately identify each patient; and link or integrate all patient
data and reports that were collected on that patient. ISCSs located within a hospital
or its associated clinics usually used the same patient identification (ID) number
that had been assigned to the patient on the first outpatient visit or admission to the
hospital; and that same patient’s ID number was recorded for each and all subse-
quent services received by that patient.
424 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
In 1959 the evolution of ISCSs began when Schenthal [158, 159] and Sweeney at
Tulane Medical School, used an IBM 650 computer equipped with magnetic tape
storage to process medical record data for their internal medicine office patients.
They used a mark-sense card reader that sensed marks made with high-carbon con-
tent pencils on special formatted cards. The marks were converted into punched
holes in standard punch cards. They read these punched cards into the computer,
which then processed and stored the data for the clinic’s physicians. Internal medi-
cine requires a relatively broad domain of medical knowledge, so internists often
limited their practices to the internal medicine subspecialties of cardiology, rheuma-
tology, endocrinology and metabolism, diabetes, pulmonology, nephrology, oncol-
ogy, geriatrics, and others.
9.2.1 Cardiology
coding algorithm that displayed a series of questions, and the user entered the
responses. A total of ten keystrokes was used to describe the coronary artery
anatomy of a patient. The database was used in their clinical practice to provide
automated reports of the testing procedures and results, and to provide diagnostic
and prognostic profiles of new patients based on their previous experience [145].
These data on cardiac catheterization results and patients’ outcomes were aggre-
gated into the Duke Databank for Cardiovascular Disease and used to support clini-
cal research in this field [146].
In 1970 the Cardiovascular Clinic in Oklahoma City initiated an office informa-
tion system (OIS) for six physicians providing care for about 14,000 cardiology
patients. This system included medical records, patient scheduling, and business
office functions. On entering the clinic, the patient completed an automated, inter-
active, branching, self-administered medical history. The physician then completed
an encounter form containing physical examination findings, patient’s symptoms,
medical problems, and diagnoses all focused on the cardiovascular system. Using a
video display terminal with keyboard entry, clerks entered the data from the encoun-
ter forms into the computer. For follow-up clinic visits, appropriate information was
added using additional encounter forms. This OIS was entirely funded by the clinic;
the PDP-15 computer and its software were acquired from Meditech [64, 204].
For the care of ambulatory hypertension patients, a Data General Nova computer,
with CRT terminals for data input and retrieval, was programmed to provide algo-
rithms to support a non-physician practitioner’s clinic at the Naval Regional Medical
Center in Oakland, California. It was used to maintain a computer-based patient
record for more than 2,000 office patients with hypertension. Patients completed a
self-administered questionnaire form at the initial visit. Nurse practitioners and hos-
pital corpsmen completed a physical examination, and recorded the patient’s blood
pressure and other findings. All the data were entered into the computer, which pro-
vided printout reports. Using computer-directed therapy algorithms, the paramedical
staff maintained a large hypertensive population with a satisfactory degree of blood
pressure control in the majority of patients [80]. Whenever abnormalities were eval-
uated by the nurse practitioners to be significant, a physician would be called in to
see the patient. An evaluation of the first year’s experience showed that the opera-
tional costs of the computer-supported clinic were 13 % less than those for their
general internal medicine clinic, primarily due to a 25 % savings in physicians’ time.
Similarly, in the hypertension clinic at the Wayne State University Medical
School in Detroit, a nurse practitioner provided full services to patients being treated
for hypertension. The nurse used forms to record data for entry by key punch to a
time-sharing computer. For follow-up visits, using a CRT display terminal, the
nurse could access the computer-stored patient record to enter new data, to retrieve
prior data, to query the clinical laboratory file for test results, and to generate flow
sheets of blood pressure and clinical laboratory data. In their first 30 months of
operation the clinic processed almost 8,000 office visits [104].
426 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
9.2.2 Pulmonology
Pulmonary diseases require special pulmonary function studies that are greatly
facilitated by computer analysis in a special pulmonary function laboratory that can
provide a variety of procedures to quantify patients’ breathing deficiencies. In 1964
a group of investigators led by Caceres at the Heart Disease Control Program at the
Department of Health, Education, and Welfare developed a method for computer
analysis of pulmonary function curves. Using an analog-to-digital converter, they
digitized the vital-capacity curves obtained from a spirometer to provide values for
1-, 2-, and 3-s measures of volume and expiratory air-flow rates; and the capacity of
the lungs to diffuse oxygen from the pulmonary alveoli into the blood capillaries,
and to diffuse carbon dioxide from the blood back into the lungs. Patients with
severe pulmonary insufficiency could accumulate an excess of carbon dioxide in
their blood, which disturbed their blood acid-base balance and produced respiratory
acidosis [164].
In the late 1960s, Osborn’s group at the Pacific Medical Center in San Francisco
began to develop their pulmonary function monitoring system. In 1974 they reported
the use of the data obtained from the pulmonary function tests and the cardiac cath-
eterization procedure done on patients before and after surgery, along with chest
x-ray reports and clinical laboratory tests. This helped to determine when patients
on automated ventilation following cardiac surgery could be weaned from the res-
pirator and returned to spontaneous breathing [79]. By the mid-1970s Caceres’
laboratory was providing a service to other providers. Providers would submit the
required data and in return would receive patient’s vital capacity and ventilation
measurements, plus gas analysis and arterial blood data, before and after exercise.
The computer generated a printout that showed the patient’s values for ventilation,
diffusion and gas exchange, and blood gas measurements; the printout also com-
pared the patient’s values to age- and gender-specific normal ranges [152].
Spencer and Vallbona at the Texas Institute for Research and Rehabilitation
(TIRR) in Houston provided arterial blood-gas analysis in their respiratory center
for patients with respiratory insufficiency. They developed a computer program
that assisted the technician in the automatic calculation of blood pH, blood gases,
and acid-base balance; and provided the physician with an automatic interpretation
of the results as well as with recommendations on the treatment to correct acidosis
if present [200]. Menn et al. [128] described the clinical subsystem for the respira-
tory care unit at the Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH), where the data on the
patient’s medical status were entered into the computer in a conversational interac-
tive mode. The clinician entered the patient’s data by replying to a series of ques-
tions with “Y” (yes) or “N” (no), or the numerical value. Additional data were
entered concerning arterial blood gases, the patient’s state of consciousness, and
certain laboratory test values. The computer then printed out a summary of the
patient’s respiratory data in a tabular form, with an interpretation of the
information.
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 427
9.2.3 Nephrology
Kidney diseases in patients often require long-term care ending with renal dialysis.
Pryor et al. [147] employed the HELP system at the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City,
and reported that its nephrology information system assisted in planning the manage-
ment of patients with end-stage renal disease. The program gave advice as to the best
mode of dialysis (either hemodialysis or peritoneal dialysis), best location (home
dialysis versus hospital dialysis), and best treatment (dialysis or kidney transplant).
In 1977 Stead and Hammond [179] began to use an OIS when treating patients
with kidney diseases in the nephrology service at the VA Medical Center in Durham.
Developed at the Duke renal outpatient clinic in 1977, the system was written in the
GEMISCH language and operated on a DEC PDP-11 minicomputer with a display
terminal and printer available in the clinic area for interactive data entry and print-
outs. The system stored in its computer-based records the patient’s demographic
data, a medical problem list, and a time-oriented summary of subjective and physi-
cal data, laboratory and therapeutic data. Data was collected from the physician,
nurse, or technician using either computer-generated paper encounter forms, or
interacting with a video terminal where the data could be displayed graphically
[182]. By 1980 the Stead-Hammond nephrology service was responsible for over
300 active patients. About one-third of these patients required renal dialysis therapy.
The initial transfer of legacy medical data from the old paper-based charts to the
computer-based records involved the extraction by the physicians of selected infor-
mation for up to two prior years of care, and averaged 1.5 h per record for about 200
patients. The clinical acceptability of the computerized records was judged to be
93.2 % [62]. In 1981 the computer record was the only record used for a patient’s
encounter with the nephrology service. The physician could supplement the record
428 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
with textual notes, either handwritten or entered as text into the computer record.
The intensity of data collection on the nephrology service was indicated by the facts
that these patients were seen as often as three times a week. The patients had an
average of 11 medical problems, at least 18 laboratory tests were performed every
1–4 weeks, and each patient took an average of nine different medicines [180, 183].
It was from Stead’s and Hammond’s experiences with this subsystem that they went
on to develop their TMR system.
Pollak and associates [142] at the University of Cincinnati Medical Center reported
a nephrology system for inpatients with acute and chronic renal diseases; their patient
care included renal transplants, renal dialysis, and outpatient follow-up. They devel-
oped a time-oriented record similar to that used by Fries for his rheumatology clinic.
They used a program written in BASIC+, for a PDP 11/70 computer. Visual display
terminals were located in the clinic for ambulatory patients and in the hospital for the
care of renal patients admitted for kidney transplants or other reasons. Data were
entered using the display terminal keyboard. Visual display terminals permitted
access to the system over telephone lines protected with password security. Data were
entered in a conversational mode, and the computer prompted the user for items to be
entered. Each data item was coded in their data dictionary. A single patient’s daily,
time-oriented, data could be entered in 2–4 min, depending on the number of items;
up to 11 different visits, usually the most recent, could be displayed simultaneously.
Computer printouts supplemented the paper-based patient record. The first page of
their computer-based record system contained a problem list that displayed a continu-
ous summary of major clinical events and problems. Flow sheets displayed time-ori-
ented data, and the progress notes recorded the serial interpretations of the data.
In 1983 Levy and Say [109] at the Henry Ford Hospital in Detroit, described their
large nephrology information system for five clinics that provided 10,200 patient
visits per year. These clinics used a central IBM time-sharing computer system with
telecommunications that supported, in the clinics, light-pen visual display terminals
and printers for data entry and information retrieval. Although this was primarily a
batch-processing operation, online data entry and retrieval of reports were obtain-
able. A single patient’s daily, time-oriented data could be entered in 2–4 min, depend-
ing on the number of items; up to 11 different visits, usually the most recent, could
be displayed simultaneously. Levy and Say chronicled their 8-year experience and
described the many lessons learned in implementing their vendor-provided system.
The first vendor went bankrupt after completing only 30 % of the system; and the
authors concluded from their experience that implementing a nephrology dialysis
subsystem could be almost as difficult as installing a medical information system.
9.2.4 Metabolic
Metabolic disorders occur in patients with a variety of diseases; they appear as dis-
orders of body fluids electrolytes and acid-base balance, and as abnormalities of
nutrition. The assessment of metabolic disorders required a complicated set of
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 429
calculations. In 1968 Vallbona et al. [199] at TIRR first reported using their com-
puter to support calculations of doses of medications, and of fluid and electrolyte
requirements of such patients. The tabular printout of the fluid-balance report pro-
vided calculations of water, glucose, sodium, and potassium requirements; and rec-
ommended parenteral fluid therapy for a 24-h period to meet the calculated
requirements. The computer process took into account the data obtained on the
patient including specific gravity, blood urea nitrogen, and an estimate of the
patient’s dehydration by the physician.
Bleich [16] at the Beth Israel Hospital in Boston wrote a program in the MUMPS
language that asked the physician to enter the values obtained for the patient of the
serum electrolytes, carbon-dioxide tension, and hydrogen-ion activity. The com-
puter then evaluated the patient’s acid-base balance, recommended appropriate
therapy, and cited relevant references. Bleich [17] soon reported that the program
had been used about 1,500 times. With the later implementation of the Beth Israel
hospital information system (HIS), the electrolyte and acid-base program automati-
cally obtained clinical laboratory data from the HIS; it then directed a dialogue in
which the physician supplied clinical information; upon completion of the inter-
change, the program produced an evaluation note that resembled a consultant’s dis-
cussion of the problem [156]. Kassirer and associates [97] at Tufts University
School of Medicine in Boston described an integrated information system that was
programmed for reading and punching into cards the data from an automated chem-
ical analyzer and from other laboratory equipment; using these data supplemented
by the patient’s weight and urine volumes, the program completed the required
calculations and printed out the final and full fluid balance study. Thompson [192]
wrote a program in the BASIC language using a Radio Shack TRS handheld, pocket
computer designed for nurses to monitor total parenteral nutrition. A series of dis-
plays directed the nurse to enter the quantities of urine output, and of the fluids and
nutrients that the patient had received during the 24-h period. The program then
calculated the patient’s fluid balance, caloric intake, percentage of calories provided
by each energy source, nitrogen balance, calorie ratio, and catabolic index.
9.2.5 Endocrine
Endocrine disorders are common and include diabetes mellitus, obesity, and thyroid
disorders. In 1964 a diabetes clinic was developed at the University Hospitals of
Cleveland, Ohio, by Levy and associates. They used encounter forms for recording
patients’ data. The data were then keypunched into cards, which periodically were
read into the computer and stored on magnetic tape. Printed reports of the patient
records were available prior to a follow-up visit. In 1964, 209 patients had their
records in the system. In 1973 McDonald’s Regenstrief Medical Record (RMR)
system initiated its diabetes clinic, which evolved to provide a comprehensive
ambulatory care system that served as one of the model office information systems
(OISs) in the United States [125]. In the mid-1970s, an OIS for patients with
430 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
diabetes mellitus became operational and was reported by Thomas and Moore [191]
in the diabetes clinic at the University of Texas Medical School in Houston. Using
paper encounter forms and keypunched cards for data entry, they provided services
to 500 patients who received continuing care that resulted in voluminous medical
records. After 4 years of experience with 6,000 patient visits, the contents of the
records had evolved to entering only the significant data necessary for each physi-
cian to make medical decisions in this clinic; and they had developed algorithms
that selected, for their routine office practice, about 20 % of the data specific to
diabetes and its complications.
By the early 1980s, OISs in diabetes clinics were using display terminals with
keyboard entry of data to microcomputers [63, 195]. Lomatch and associates [112]
at the University of Michigan, used a relational database system to collect informa-
tion on 1,200 patients with diabetes to monitor their care and to support clinical
research in diabetes. By the end of the 1980s a fully interactive diabetes manage-
ment system on a personal computer was reported by Zviran and Blow [212] at the
Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, California. It provided a computer-based
patient record, a log display of trends of the patient’s blood glucose levels, decision
support reminders as to diet and exercise, and instructions with a dictionary of com-
mon terms for patient education.
9.2.6 Rheumatology
Rheumatology and immunology services were initiated in the late 1960s by Fries at
Stanford University Medical Center using their Time Oriented Database (TOD)
System to collect data over long-time periods on their patients who had chronic
arthritis. The objectives of their OIS were to support both patient care and clinical
research and to provide a research database. In the 1970s the Stanford group joined
with other rheumatology centers in the United States and Canada to form the
American Rheumatism Association Medical Information System (ARAMIS),
which became a model for national chronic disease research databases [59, 60]. By
1974 this clinic served 900 patients with 4,000 visits per year; most of the patient
data were stored in the immunology and rheumatology OIS [77]. At this time in its
development, computer time-sharing services were obtained from the Stanford
University Center for Information Processing, which maintained the software for
TOD, which was also used by other Stanford medical services. Patient data were
collected by physicians, clerks, and technicians on formatted pages and on flow
sheets with tabulated data. Then the data were entered into the computer by using
modems and telephone lines. The paper-based patient record remained the primary
medical record; the computer-based patient record provided backup and was also
the research database. The medical record contained patient identification, medical
history, a problem list, treatments specific to rheumatology and immunology, and
selected follow-up data. The system permitted retrieval of the complete computer-
stored patient record, or an abstract of the last visit. Statistical analysis of the data
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 431
with scatter plots and bar graphs were available. Computer-generated prognostic
summaries of patients’ records could be obtained that selected a population compa-
rable to the patient, and displayed the group experience as to morbidity and mortal-
ity. A password system controlled user access to the system. Administrative and
business functions for the clinic were provided by other Stanford systems. According
to [77], the development of this OIS involved about eight person-years of effort at
an estimated cost of $100,000. Fries’ system was so successful that it became the
basis for ARAMIS, a national database for rheumatoid diseases.
9.2.7 Neuromuscular
9.2.8 Oncology
Oncology information systems for patients with cancer required a wide variety of
hospital medical, surgical, chemotherapy, and radiation services. One of the earliest,
large, oncology information systems was developed at Johns Hopkins Hospital
(JHH) that provided comprehensive care to adult cancer patients in a 56-bed oncol-
ogy center that also served 500 outpatients per week [20]. In l970 at the Johns
Hopkins Hospital (JHH), a prototype information system was initiated to process
physicians’ written orders, produce work lists for ward nurses, and generate daily
computer-printed, patient drug profiles for the patients’ records. In 1975 a
Minirecord (minimal essential record) system was initiated in the JHH Medical
Clinic that used encounter forms that were filled out at each patient visit; and they
contained an area for medications and procedures [119]. Work also was begun on a
prototype Clinical Oncology Information System (OCIS). The OCIS contained
patient care data for both hospital and clinic services, and also captured clinical
laboratory test results and pharmacy data [19, 20, 22].
In 1976 a radiology reporting system was implemented at JHH using a terminal
that permitted the radiologist to select phrases with which to compose descriptions
and interpretations of x-ray studies. Its output was a computer-printed report which
became available as soon as the radiologist completed his interpretation [202]. In
1978 a clinical laboratory information system was operational; it provided the inter-
nal working documents for the laboratories, and produced the patient’s cumulative
laboratory report [94]. During the early 1980s, a network gradually evolved in the
JHH information system. By 1986 the JHH system included IBM 3081 and 3083
computers that supported an inpatient pharmacy system with a unit dose medication
distribution system, a clinical laboratory system which ran on three PDP 11/70
computers, and a radiology system [194]. At any one time, 2,000 patients were
being treated with one or more of several hundred established treatment plans called
oncology protocols. Their prototype Oncology Clinical Information System (OCIS)
used a remote computer located at the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory.
It also operated a tumor registry that ran in batch mode and was used for searches,
tumor reports, abstract preparation, and quality assurance.
In 1976 JHH purchased a PDP-11 computer with a MUMPS operating system
[20] to support the development of a larger system for their Oncology Center. By
1979 their enhanced OCIS organized the clinical data to produce plots and tabula-
tions that assisted in decision making. Since they often collected as many as 100
different clinical and laboratory values for a single patient each day, it was useful for
the data to be organized in the form of plots and flow sheets (time-sequenced
tabulation of data) to assist physicians in handling large amounts of data [25]. In
addition daily care plans were implemented, with protocols (treatment sequences)
processed by their OCIS that provided printed plans for ordering tests and proce-
dures, with warnings and reminders of potential adverse clinical events.
Because of the complexity of the treatment plans for many cancer patients, much
of the therapy followed predefined protocols that often involved the use of anti-
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 433
Center, New York, also implemented an information system for clinical oncology
using a Data General Eclipse C330 computer and MUMPS programming, designed
largely to support research. Marciniak and associates [116] at the National Cancer
Institute in Bethesda and the VA Medical Center in Washington, DC, reported on the
activities of VA hospitals tumor registry using their HIS; they cited the use of the VA
File Manager program by the MD Anderson Hospital in Houston for their protocol
data management system. In the mid-1980s, the National Cancer Institute made
Physician Data Query (PDQ) available, a cancer information database of active
oncology protocols, accessible to hospital cancer units through the NLM’s
MEDLINE [84].
9.2.9 Gastroenterology
Gastroenterology patients were treated by Kahane and associates [96] at JHH who
employed a clinical workstation that permitted them to use a variety of data input
methods, including voice-recognition technology, to record observations made of
the inner surface of the gastrointestinal tract during endoscopy.
9.2.10 Geriatrics
Elderly patients received care in an ambulatory clinic with an OIS specially designed
in 1988 for their care in the VA Medical Center in Tacoma, Washington, and appro-
priately called GRAMPS (Geriatric Record and Multidisciplinary Planning System).
This interactive MUMPS-based application operated off of the VA’s File Manager-
based record system. It allowed physicians to document patient care in a problem-
oriented format with structured narrative and free text, eliminating handwritten
input [73]. Sets of data were developed for 38 geriatric syndromes that could be
displayed as menus for data selection to facilitate data entry.
Surgery specialties have administrative and business requirements for their patients
similar to those for the medical specialties. However, the clinical data collected by
neurosurgeons, head and neck surgeons, chest surgeons, abdominal surgeons, obste-
tricians, gynecologists, and urologists are more limited to office surgery procedures
and to pre- and postoperative follow-up care of patients whose surgical procedures
had been performed in the hospital or specialty surgery clinics. Surgery specialties
in a hospital are characterized by their application of invasive procedures, which
usually require specialized technology. In addition to the general information
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 435
processing requirements similar to those for any HIS department, surgery services
require records of anesthetics given and detailed reports that document the operative
procedures. The operating room is the basic workshop for the surgeon, and each
surgery specialty requires some equipment in the operating room tailored to its
needs.
The operating room is an expensive resource in the hospital [13], so the operating
room supervisor is continually challenged to improve its efficiency. Most operating
rooms are busiest in the morning; some rooms are often idle in the afternoon, so
optimal scheduling of operating room staff can significantly affect hospital costs. As
early as 1968, Barnoon and Wolfe [10] developed a computer simulation model to
test the effectiveness of various configurations of schedules by analyzing the use of
its facilities and manpower. Ausman and associates at Roswell Park Memorial
Institute began to use precoded operative record and report forms on which the sur-
geons noted the appropriate information after completing an operation [3, 4]. Clerks
transferred the codes to punch cards; these were read into an IBM 1401 computer
that stored the data on magnetic tape that generated printouts for insertion in the
patients’ charts. Michas and associates [130] at the University of California in Davis
reported that their surgery services were using a special form to record patient’s
diagnoses, operative procedures, and other relevant data, which were then typed
onto magnetic cards using the IBM Magnetic Card/Selectric Typewriter (MC/ST).
The data on the cards were then transmitted to a time-sharing mainframe computer
that stored the data, and provided printout reports for the patients’ charts. Brown
[27], at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, wrote that since 1976, for each
patient undergoing a surgical operation, clinical data had been collected, punched
into cards, and computer processed. Yearly data were abstracted from the surgery
database, analyzed, and compared to the prior year’s data to improve operating
room scheduling and utilization.
In the 1970s the appearance of free standing surgical centers for ambulatory
patients generated a need for their information systems to provide hospital-type
patients’ records, including any laboratory, x-ray, and pathology data as well as to
maintain extensive records of the surgeons, of the anesthesiologists, and of the
insurance carriers. As an example, the Salt Lake Surgical Center reported providing
services to 500 patients per month using four operating rooms; and maintained a
computer-based patient record on a Texas Instruments minicomputer that was
accessed by eight visual display terminals. Their computing applications included
interactive preoperative scheduling of surgical procedures, and storing the sched-
uled procedure codes. Also included were patients’ preoperative diagnoses, identi-
fication of the surgeons and referring physicians, and the type of anesthesia to be
given. Data stored on postoperative patients included the code number of the actual
procedure performed, length of time of the procedure, the anesthesia given, and any
436 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
9.3.2 Anesthesiology
Anesthesiology became a prime target for patient safety concerns by the second half
of the 1980s. The Joint Commission for Associated Hospital Organizations
(JCAHO) chose anesthesiology as one of the first areas in which to incorporate
outcome indicators into its hospital accreditation standards. Some states began to
require that, when general anesthesia was used, there must be continuous monitor-
ing of the patient’s blood oxygen content and of changes in exhaled carbon dioxide
[49]. Monitoring anesthesia administration to surgical patients required as great a
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 437
variety of technology as any other medical specialty. It had many of the same
requirements as monitoring patients in intensive care units (ICUs). A surgery anes-
thesia monitoring system developed by Michenfelder and associates [131] at the
Mayo Clinic with IBM monitored and stored the vital physiological variables for an
anesthetized patient. These data included measurements of arterial and venous
blood pressures, heart rate and electrocardiogram, respiratory rate, airway pressure,
and body temperature. The digitized data were stored on magnetic tape; displays of
the data appeared on television-type monitors.
Through the years the anesthetist became somewhat comparable to the airplane
pilot in the cockpit surrounded by myriad instrument and computer displays. The
surgery and the anesthetic affected many organ systems, so the anesthetist had to
continually monitor the anesthetic and oxygen-gas intake and their blood concentra-
tions, the depth of anesthesia and the brain function, the cardiac and pulmonary
functions, intravenous fluid intake, body temperature, and degree of muscle relax-
ation. The anesthetist usually determined a patient’s blood-gas levels during surgery
by periodically testing blood samples for dissolved oxygen, carbon dioxide, and pH
value. In 1968 Warner [201] and associates at the LDS Hospital inserted into the
patient, prior to surgery, a central aortic-pressure catheter that was connected to a
pressure transducer. The anesthetist obtained measurements of arterial pressure,
stroke volume, heart rate, and cardiac output by pressing buttons on the console; and
the results were displayed on the oscilloscope of the console. Other pertinent data,
such as drugs administered and comments about the status of the patient, were
entered in the computer-based record and printed out at the end of the operation in
the form of an integrated anesthesiology record.
Crouse and Wiederhold [44] reported the use of their ACME system for monitor-
ing patients under anesthesia by recording measured concentrations of carbon diox-
ide during respiration, and continuously analyzing data obtained from their
electrocardiogram and carotid pulse monitors. Chodoff and Gianaris [32] at Johns
Hopkins University School of Medicine and Gianaris at Northwestern University
Medical Center reported using a preoperative anesthesia management system in
which a nurse anesthetist interviewed the patient scheduled for surgery, and recorded
on mark-sense forms the patient’s history and physical examination findings. The
data were then read into the computer and were subjected to a clinical decision sup-
port system (CDSS) developed by IBM, which suggested significant anesthetical
abnormalities and their possible causes, orders for further study, and anesthesia
recommendations. However, when the researchers compared data from the system
to data recorded from the physicians, they found little agreement between the com-
puter and the physicians.
Shaffer and associates [163] at the George Washington University Medical
Center used handwritten forms to record the anesthesiologist’s preoperative sum-
mary of the patient’s condition and of the postoperative course; the nurse’s notes on
the operative course; and the recovery-room course. From these forms, data items
were coded and keypunched into cards for batch processing by an IBM 370 com-
puter. Monthly statistics were provided of operating room utilization. By the end of
the 1970s, system developers began to use microcomputers for surgery information
438 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
systems. Cozen [43] at the California Hospital Medical Center in Los Angeles, used
a microcomputer connected to a monitor to measure and display the patient’s blood
pressure and pulse rate; the data were then transmitted to a minicomputer
database.
At the University of California in San Francisco, Young [209] used a DEC
minicomputer-controlled mass spectrometer to analyze samples of both inspired
gases and expired air, and thus eliminated the need for drawing blood samples.
Similarly, Harbort and associates [75] at Emory University used a Hewlett Packard
minicomputer for the management and display of data from a Perkin-Elmer
microcomputer-controlled mass spectrometer used to monitor and plot, every 5 min,
the flow of anesthetic gases administered and the levels of oxygen, carbon dioxide,
nitrogen, and argon in the patient’s respired air.
At Yale University School of Medicine, Miller [132] developed a program called
ATTENDING that received a list of the patient’s problems, a planned surgical pro-
cedure, and a proposed anesthetic plan. The system critiqued this plan from the
standpoint of the patient’s underlying problems and their inherent risks, suggested
alternative approaches, and discussed the risks and benefits of different approaches
for the patient’s problems.
In the 1980s integrated technologies began to be developed for noninvasive mon-
itoring of both the gas anesthetics and a patient’s physiologic measurements. Lewis
and associates [110] at the Eastern Virginia Medical School reported the use of a
desktop-sized Hewlett Packard microcomputer to store the data entered by clerks in
a coded format from the operative records of patients who had undergone vascular
surgery. As the preoperative evaluation of a patient is an important procedure,
Keating and associates [98] at Jefferson Medical College developed a Computer-
Assisted Preoperative Evaluation (CAPE) system to help identify risks associated
with the patient’s diagnosis and with the planned surgical procedure. The system
also provided estimates of mortality, and specific recommendations for decreasing
risks for the patient. In the 1980s operating room information systems were reported
by Ball et al. [7] to be available in 18 software packages, each of which provided
some of the 21 important functions, including operating room scheduling, anesthe-
sia and surgery logs, equipment control, medical records, staff records, inventory
control, resource use, infection control, and patient care plans. Of the 18 vendors,
only two software packages offered all 21 of these functions. Berg [13] estimated
that only 10 % of U.S. hospitals used some type of computer support in their operat-
ing rooms.
Oral surgeons and dentists began to explore the use of computers in their offices in
the late 1960s. According to Tira et al. [193], in the 1970s an increasing number of
journal articles began to appear describing computer applications in clinical den-
tistry, and dentists began to employ computer batch-processing using time-sharing
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 439
service bureaus for office administrative and business applications. Diehl [47, 48],
at the Naval Dental Research Institute in Great Lakes, Illinois, noted that in the
1970s microcomputers and floppy discs brought computer capabilities to dentist’s
office staff. Some computer-based simulation models were developed to assist den-
tists in planning and operating their offices by studying their practice mix for tooth
fillings, crowns, extractions, and other procedures; by evaluating the effects of add-
ing auxiliary personnel or altering office configuration [100]; and by planning a new
dental practice [148]. In the 1980s there were available several hundred dental office
software packages, many had been custom written by dentists. By the end of the
1980s, computer-assisted imaging systems were available to make dental prostheses
such as crowns; so rather than making a physical model or a die of the tooth to be
replaced, an electro-optical scanning method obtained the necessary three-
dimensional information, which was digitized by camera and entered into the com-
puter [14].
In the second half of the 1980s, Zimmerman [211] at the University of Maryland
at Baltimore that a survey of 628 dentists showed about one-fourth had some type
of computer system in their offices. Two-thirds of these were microcomputers or
minicomputer inhouse systems used mostly for billing and accounting applications;
only about one-third had some patient record-keeping applications. In 1986
Southard and Rails at the Naval Dental Research Institute in Great Lakes, Illinois,
described a computer-based dental record system that collected, stored, and dis-
played in a standard clinical format, the information generated during a comprehen-
sive general dental examination. They used a microcomputer with a keyboard,
visual display, and a dot matrix printer with high-resolution graphics capabilities for
printing symbols, markings, and text, to print a copy of the computer-stored exami-
nation record in the same textual and graphic format as standard, manually recorded
dental charts [170]. Using preprinted examination charts showing all 32 teeth, their
computer program overprinted on each of the teeth appropriate marks and symbols
for missing teeth, existing restorations, root-canal treatments, partial dentures, and
caries; it also gave recommendations for extracting any teeth. In 1986 Rails and
associates also developed a computer-assisted dental diagnosis program to operate
on a microcomputer; it was written in the BASIC language. After taking a dental
history and completing an examination of the teeth, the user would answer a series
of computer-displayed questions. Using algorithms and rules such as, if this … then
do this …, if the answers representing the dental findings fit a diagnostic pattern, the
computer classified the patient’s dental abnormality and recommended treatment if
requested [170].
In the 1970s some computer-based simulation models were developed to assist
dentists in planning and operating their offices by studying their practice mix for
tooth fillings, crowns, extractions, and other procedures; by evaluating the effects of
adding auxiliary personnel or altering office configuration [100]; and by planning a
new dental practice [148]. By the end of the 1980s, computer-assisted imaging sys-
tems were available to make dental prostheses such as crowns; rather than making a
physical model or a die of the tooth to be replaced, an electro-optical scanning
method obtained the necessary three-dimensional information, which was digitized
440 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
by camera and entered into the computer [14]. Simulated surgery on three-
dimensional models became available in the 1980s when interactive computer
graphics introduced the capabilities of preoperative planning for difficult opera-
tions. Using x-ray scans that focused on the abnormality, the surgeon could simulate
operating on an abnormality, and refine and repeat the process until the appropriate
surgery was planned properly [45].
Obstetricians use the general surgery suite for surgical procedures such as Cesarean
sections; otherwise, obstetrical deliveries were completed in separate delivery
rooms to minimize the risk of contamination. Since most pregnancies resulted in the
collection of similar patient data for around 9 months, in the 1970s the American
College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG) and the American Academy of
Pediatrics (AAP) developed standard data collection obstetrics data forms for the
prenatal visits, for the delivery and hospital course of the infant, and for the first
post-partum visit of the mother [88].
Obstetricians have the special requirement of maintaining a continuing record of
the prenatal care of a pregnant woman, and having this record available at the time
of delivery. In 1971 Jelovsek and associates [91] at the Duke University Medical
Center initiated an OIS with a computer-based patient record using the Duke
GEMISCH database management system, the precursor to Duke’s TMR system.
Stead et al. [178] reported that the patient’s record for an entire pregnancy was gath-
ered on 50 pages of check sheets, resulting in a printout that averaged 10 pages. A
set of paper forms was used to collect a self-administered patient history, a physi-
cian’s physical examination, and clinical laboratory test results. These forms were
then entered into the database using an optical scanner and an interactive video
display. A complete printout of this data was then placed on the patient’s paper chart
within 48–72 h [26]. An updated printout was always available from a Teletype
printer located in the delivery suite. After several revisions of the data collection
forms and printout reports, in 1974 the computer-based obstetrics record was imple-
mented using a separate PDP 11/40 computer and two visual display terminals, and
programmed as an application of the GEMISCH system. The records of approxi-
mately 10,000 pregnant women had been processed by the system by the end of
1975 [178].
In 1980 their Women’s Clinic began to use the Duke TMR system. Physicians
still recorded patient data and orders on encounter forms that were given to a clerk
to enter into the computer using visual display terminals with keyboards while the
patient was still present. The computer printed out laboratory requisitions and bill-
ings that were then given to the patient. They concluded that their information sys-
tem in which data transactions were captured in realtime in the presence of the
patient, had a significant effect on office personnel and patient flow. Jelovsek [91]
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 441
reported its advantages included improved data quality, control, and timely avail-
ability; its disadvantages included increased hardware requirements, major retrain-
ing of personnel, and more rigid adherence to organizational policy.
In the late 1970s, Wirtschafter and associates [205] in Birmingham, Alabama,
initiated the development of a computer-based medical record system serving the
obstetrics services of two hospitals and several clinics located in the county. In 1982
they provided care to more than 4,000 pregnant women per year, and generated
more than 40,000 encounter forms. In 1977 they acquired an IBM 370/158 com-
puter and used the Time Oriented Database (TOD) system, developed at Stanford
University; the system was operational in all clinics by the end of 1979. Data input
paper forms from the various prenatal clinics were transmitted to their computer
center where a prenatal summary report was generated and made available online at
the two hospitals for the patient’s delivery. Labor and delivery data were handled
similarly from physicians’ recorded data on forms, and a perinatal discharge sum-
mary was prepared at the time of the patient’s discharge.
In 1986 Gonzalez and Fox [67] at the Columbia University College of Physicians
and Surgeons implemented a complete computer-based obstetrics record. All patient
encounters were recorded directly into the system by the health care providers; all
of the information was stored in the computer and was available in real time.
Personal computers acting as terminals were placed in all examination rooms, con-
sultation rooms, physicians’ offices, and in the labor and delivery rooms; and all
were connected to a central microcomputer. Even into the late 1980s, most obstetri-
cians still used paper forms to record their patient data, which clerks then entered
into the computer-stored medical record. Since the time of delivery was usually
unpredictable and often occurred at night when there was not easy access to paper-
based records, the main advantage of a computer-based obstetric record was that of
assured availability of prenatal patient data at the time of delivery, night or day.
Listening to the fetal heart during a delivery by placing a stethoscope on the
mother’s abdomen is a routine procedure for obstetricians to monitor the fetal heart
rate for evidence of fetal distress. Electronic fetal monitoring by recording the fetal
electrocardiogram was introduced in the 1960s [103] for the purpose of detecting
fetal distress. Hon [81] at the Loma Linda School of Medicine in Los Angeles,
used electrodes placed in the mother’s vagina to pick up the fetal signals and to
record them on magnetic tape. These analog signals were then digitized and ana-
lyzed by an IBM 7094 computer, which permitted monitoring of the fetal electro-
cardiogram and the fetal heart rate. In the 1970s continuous electronic monitoring
of the fetal heart rate became increasingly common in the United States; and com-
puters began to be used to apply techniques developed for automated monitoring
of the electrocardiogram in ICUs, with alarms that sounded when preset normal
values were exceeded [151]. However, an evaluation by Banta and associates [8, 9]
at the National Center for Health Services Research reported that monitoring of the
fetal electrocardiogram was no better than auscultation by the stethoscope; this
report somewhat dampened for a time the diffusion of electronic fetal monitoring
in the United States.
442 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
9.4 Pediatrics
Pediatricians provide care to children from birth through teenage years. The data
processing requirements vary considerably for newborns, preschool and school-
aged children. Important medical procedures include immunizations and body mea-
surements for identifying growth and developmental problems. In contrast to the
data collection process in adult patients, pediatricians in most cases acquire the
medical histories from parents. The hospital information system functional require-
ments for children in the hospital pediatric services are generally similar to those for
adults in the medical and surgical services. However, newborns require very differ-
ent specialized care. The first data relevant to a pediatric patient are those recorded
for the yet unborn baby in the mother’s obstetrics prenatal record. At birth, the
newborn is transferred to the nursery service and assigned an identification code;
and the baby’s pediatric record is initiated. Monitoring the growth and development
of infants and children is important since these variables were closely related to
children’s health; and these data required comparisons to standard charts.
In 1969 a pediatric information system was initiated by Lyman and Tick for the
pediatrics department of Bellevue Hospital in New York Medical Center that sup-
ported 30,000 patients with 70,000 clinic visits per year. Since the traditional paper-
based record had been available for only 20–30 % of visits, a major objective of the
outpatient information system (OIS) was to provide realtime access to the patients’
records. In 1975 the clinic was staffed by eight to ten physicians; and a relatively
comprehensive computer-stored patient record was maintained for the patients’ ini-
tial and follow-up visits. Data collection mostly used free-text encounter forms for
data organized by categories. All data were entered via Teletype terminals con-
nected by telephone lines to a large mainframe, time-sharing UNIVAC computer at
New York University. In 1975, 35,000 children were registered, receiving about
75,000 encounters a year. The central Univac computer provided both online and
batch processing services via telephone lines to terminals located in the hospital and
clinics [64]. Retrieval of patient records could be initiated within a few seconds; but
printing the reports in the 1970s on teletypewriters could take several minutes
depending on the length of the record. Patients were seen with a traditional paper-
based record, supplemented by attached computer printouts of abstracts of the
computer-stored record of recent data, such as diagnoses and medical problems,
laboratory test results, and hospitalization discharge summaries. The system was
also used by Tick and associates for research in the computer processing of natural
language free text [77].
In 1976 the obstetrics medical record implemented by Jelovsek [89] at Duke
University Medical Center in 1971 was modified to collect newborns’ data from the
nursery. A data sheet for each infant was entered into the computer and combined
with the maternal information to generate automatically an infant discharge sum-
mary). A computer-based perinatal data system was developed at the St. Josephs
Hospital in Phoenix, Arizona, that served as the basis for the statewide Arizona
Perinatal Program [93]. Wasserman and Stinson [202] at the University of California
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 443
San Francisco and Stinson at the University of Rochester Medical School developed
detailed specifications for their perinatal records, that included information col-
lected from the mother and fetus during pregnancy and delivery, and for the first 28
days postpartum or until the baby left the hospital. Pediatricians at the Medical
University of South Carolina developed a computer-based system that provided
information on the growth of infants and children, and compared the height and
weight of the patient with those of a child of the same age, race, and sex in a stan-
dard population. In addition visual warnings were included on a computer terminal
screen of any possibility that measurement errors had occurred or that the patient
was experiencing abnormal growth [149].
Newborns with a low birth weight (2,500 g or less) or with a very low birth
weight (1,500 g or less) were mostly premature infants and were usually placed in
incubators in a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) for their first week or two of life.
With the advent of neonatal specialists in the 1970s, a NICU was established in
many pediatric hospital services [29]. Initially the Primary Children’s Hospital in
Salt Lake City used the computer at the LDS Hospital, with which it was affiliated
[33]. However, it soon employed a dedicated PDP-8 computer to process all the
patient data generated in the NICU and used the LDS time-sharing computer for
compiling and printing reports [54]. Maurer and associates [117] at Washington
University in St. Louis developed a data management system for neonatology which
they defined as the hospital-based subspecialty of pediatrics devoted to the care of
sick infants from birth to generally 1–2 months of age, but in cases involving hospi-
talization might extend to 8–9 months. Cox and associates [42] at Washington
University proposed the design for a formal model of a database system for neona-
tology based on Maurer’s database. Neonatal information systems often shared the
HIS central computer, as did the one at the Loma Linda University Medical Center
in California [87].
In the 1970s and 1980s, many pediatric services installed information subsys-
tems. With increasing use of the newer technology, Ertel and associates [53] at the
Children’s Hospital in Columbus, Ohio, initiated an outpatient information system
for their pediatric clinics, which at that time provided more than 100,000 outpatient
visits per year. Initially, their primary objectives were to support administrative
functions and to automatically generate the detailed external reports that were
required. They developed encounter forms for data input for family and child demo-
graphics, and for the basic clinical data summarizing each patient’s visit as to
diagnosis and treatment. Copies of these paper forms were transmitted to a central
computer, which entered and batch processed the data; and periodically generated
individual patient reports and tabulations of data for frequency of diagnoses, clinic
visits, of immunizations given, and other statistical analyses. After nearly 2 years of
full operation and the processing of more than 187,000 documents, they concluded
that their data system met all major design specifications; and the effect on service
operations included a significant increase in efficiency at administrative, clerical,
and clinical levels.
In 1970 Haessler and associates at Searle Medidata in Lexington, Massachusetts,
extended their automated self-administered history taker to provide a pediatric data-
444 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
base history. Their branching history questions included the child’s current symp-
toms and diagnosed illnesses as well as perinatal, developmental, family, social, and
school history data. After a period of testing the system, they added more questions
covering the first 2 years of life, provided the option of abbreviated histories for
children with a single problem, and added encounter forms for return visits. With
these modifications, they reported that their new Pediatric Database Questionnaire
was acceptable to both physicians and patient responders [50].
The pediatricians at Duke University Medical Center also developed a specialized,
online, computer-based, self-administered, tree-structured questionnaire for use in
their well baby clinic, which provided services to children up to 27 months of age.
This was an application of their Generalized Medical Information System for
Community Health (GEMISCH) program. Their questionnaire was administered on a
visual display terminal to the mothers. Computer printouts provided to the clinic pedi-
atricians contained alerts to certain identified problems, such as problems with feeding
the baby. They concluded that the computer could take much of the patient history for
the physician, could make “suggestions” depending on the data acquired, and allowed
the physician more time to attend to the patients more pressing problems [139].
In 1976 a group of pediatricians in the Boston City Hospital and its seven affili-
ated Neighborhood Health Centers implemented a computer-based Medical Record
Communications (MARCO) system for the care of 30,000 pediatric patients. This
system operated on a DEC PDP 11/45 computer using a MUMPS/11 based operat-
ing system, which supported seven terminals. During a patient’s visit, the physician
recorded the patient’s data on a structured paper encounter form, from which a
clerk entered the data into the computer using the computer terminal. The computer
then generated a report for the physician, and printed a copy as part of the chart for
the patient’s next visit. By 1978, 55,000 encounters had been processed by the
system [134].
Newborn screening information systems were established to track babies from
their first screening test through their last follow-up test [46]. In 1980 the University
of New Mexico Hospital employed two DEC PDP-11 computers to provide an
information system for its newborn ICU. Codes were used to enter data in response
to sets of menus shown on display screens asking for specific information. Daily
updated summaries of patients’ information and discharge summaries were pro-
vided by display or by printouts to be filed in the patients’ charts [169]. In 1980 the
First National Conference on Perinatal Data Systems was held in Milwaukee [76].
In the 1980s large perinatal databases, such as the University of Illinois Regional
Perinatal Network Database, were used to support decision making by clinicians,
administrators, and research epidemiologists [70]. Systems such as the Maryland
Perinatal Database used a series of forms for recording and entering data to provide
a comprehensive repository of the clinically significant information during the peri-
natal period; the data were retrievable for both patient care and research purposes
[136]. In the early 1980s some states began to mandate newborn screening tests for
certain metabolic disorders, such as phenylketonuria and hypothyroidism. The pro-
ceedings of a conference on computer-based newborn screening programs were
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 445
reported in the April 1988 issue of the Journal of Medical Systems. In the early
1980s, perinatal and neonatal computer-based systems were becoming common,
often using minicomputers: Chicago Lying-in Hospital installed a DEC PDP-10
computer l [113]; the Medical University of South Carolina used a Prime 550 com-
puter [133]; and the Los Angeles County Hospital used a PDP-11/40 computer
[208]. Soon microcomputers became more widely used to acquire data from moni-
toring equipment, and to process and display of patient data in graphic and textual
formats [82]. A microcomputer-based perinatal and neonatal information system
using a Radio Shack TRS computer for interactive processing of patient data was
used at the East Carolina University School of Medicine [51].
In 1983 narrative discharge summaries of some pediatric patients in the New York
University Medical Center were being analyzed by a computer system for the pro-
cessing of natural language records [114]. Due to the large population served, the
Los Angeles County Hospital modified its perinatal system by using an Apple II
Plus computer for data entry; when the data file was completed, it was transmitted
using a telephone line to an IBM 370/168 mainframe computer [207]. The University
of Minnesota used a microcomputer for its neonatal system and linked it to the clini-
cal laboratory system for other patient data [41]. Budd and associates [28] at the
University of Minnesota Medical School described a medical information relational
database system (MIRDS) for their division of pediatric pulmonology; the system
accessed their clinical database by using microcomputers. By the late 1980s, large,
multiuser pediatric office information systems were available that provided patient
management with specialized sets of display screens for programs requiring clinical
calculations, for administrative and business functions, word processing for report
writing, and electronic mail [144]. In the 1990s, some placed an interactive terminal
in the patient’s home, with access to a pediatric mobile database in their system,
which was programmed to provide advice to a patient’s family in response to que-
ries when a child had certain common symptoms [206].
Not all hospitals will admit patients with mental disorders since these patients
require special facilities for their care and security. Patients who require long-term
psychiatric care usually are in psychiatric hospitals. When hospitals with a computer-
based patient record system have psychiatrists and psychologists on their staff, all
data processed for psychiatric patients require extraordinary protection for the secu-
rity, privacy and confidentiality of the patients’ data; only the patient’s personal
psychiatrists and psychologists are legally permitted access to that patient’s records.
Otherwise, the information processing requirements for a psychiatric service are
similar to those for a general medical service. Interviewing and history taking con-
stitute a prominent part of a psychiatric patient’s medical record, and are generally
similar for hospital and for office patients.
446 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
Beckett [11] noted that psychiatrists collected a vast amount of clinical informa-
tion in lengthy interviews with patients, and proposed that this information could be
reliably recorded in a form suitable for high-speed data processing. Since most data
in the practice of psychiatry and psychology were collected by interviews with
patients, a great amount of effort was directed to the development of computer-
based questionnaires and programs for interpreting their results.
In 1971 Slack developed and used a computer-based psychiatry history system
based on an automated history taker [168]. However, processing of data from
patients with mental disorders required not only a specialized data dictionary for
terms used in psychology and psychiatry, but also extraordinary measures for the
security and protection of the confidentiality of the patients’ data.
Rome [150] at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, reported the initiation
in 1961 of a joint project with IBM to test an automated version of the then widely
used paper-and-pencil-based Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI).
This test, was developed to help distinguish between functional and organic disease,
consisted of 550 statements to which the patient responded by checking each state-
ment as “true” or “false”. The responses were then scored to generate 14 scales that
predicted personality patterns, such as hypochondriasis, hysteria, depression, para-
noia, schizophrenia, and others, in addition to “normal”. The test was modified for
computer processing so that the 550 statements were printed on 23 standard-sized
punch cards. The patient used a special electrographic pencil to fill in the space at
the left of the statement if “true”, or to the right of the statement if “false”. The
patient’s identifying data were keypunched into a header card, which was then pro-
cessed with the test cards by a mark-sensing machine that read the marks and
punched them into cards readable by the computer. The patient’s responses were
automatically scored and scaled into personality patterns by the computer program,
and a printed report of descriptive diagnostic statements was provided to the
patient’s psychiatrist or psychologist [188]. By 1964 the Mayo group reported the
evaluation of the automated MMPI for the testing of 50,000 patients; they con-
cluded that the automated MMPI was well tolerated by patients and provided mean-
ingful information to psychologists to motivate its continued use [140].
The data derived from this large group of patients permitted them to refine the
personality patterns, and the automated MMPI began to be used by others [39, 187,
189]. Finney [55] at the University of Kentucky Medical Center in Lexington
advanced this work by combining the automated MMPI with another test, the
California Psychological Inventory. Finney’s program counted patient’s responses
and converted them into scores; the scores were combined into indices for which
designated statements were put into proper order and into paragraphs. Rather than
providing a series of statements, this program generated a report that read as if it had
been spontaneously composed by a professional looking at the results of testing.
The report described the various processes going on in a person and how they are
related to each other. As a variance to using patients’ responses to predict psychiat-
ric diagnoses, Overall [138] at the University of Texas Medical Branch in Galveston
used the responses of psychiatric patients with known diagnoses who were receiv-
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 447
ing multiple medications to develop a program that advised which particular drug
would be best suited for a given patient.
Starkweather [177] at the University of California in San Francisco addressed
the more difficult problem of developing automated text processing from the psy-
chiatric interview, and concluded that analyzing psychotherapeutic interviews intro-
duced the problem of processing immense amounts of verbal and textual material.
Starkweather first developed a listing of all words used by patients in their recorded
interviews, and wrote a program to build a vocabulary and an organized summary
of the patient’s usage of words. He studied ways of grouping words, and counting
word frequency of use as related to categories of meaning and psychologic diagno-
ses, and developed a program he called COMPUTEST, which simulated a psychiat-
ric interview. The program had questions that were typically used by a psychologist
interviewer; the questions and answers were transcribed on an electric typewriter
and entered into the computer. The computer program recognized individual words
and groups of words, and varied subsequent questions in accordance with the occur-
rence of “right” or “wrong” answers, and whether the word “yes” was found in the
answer. The program could simulate and take the part of either the interviewer or the
patient [176]. Starkweather applied factor analysis to the rate of occurrence of
words in patients’ responses, and applied labels, such as “denial” or “self- aggres-
sion” to factors produced from such analysis [175]. As an example, the occurrence
of the word “discouraged” in a response was one of a group of words found to sug-
gest a depression of mood [174]. Starkweather’s group went on to develop a
computer-based medical record system for the Langley Porter Neuropsychiatric
Institute, with a System for Efficient Automated Retrieval and Checking of
Hypothesis (SEARCH) program to retrieve text on the basis of criteria that included
psychiatric terms [186]. The system was first developed to include the psychiatry
department’s outpatients; later it also included their inpatients [115].
In the 1960s studies were also reported of computer interpretations of unstruc-
tured tests, such as the Rorschach, Figure Drawing, and Thematic Apperception
tests, which depended on the clinical experience and judgment of the interpreter
rather than on statistical scores and rules of interpretation [56]. A relatively advanced
program was developed by Piotrowski [141] for interpreting the Rorschach inkblot
test by using the detailed scores derived from experts experienced with the test to
develop several hundred decision rules to print out a series of interpretive statements
based on configurations of scores. In addition to developing methods for computer-
assisted assessment of patients with mental disorders, computer-aided psychology
therapy was evaluated for conditions that could be helped through behavior modifi-
cation by processes similar to computer-assisted education [185]. In the early 1970s,
a survey of 243 responding psychologists showed that two-thirds were using mini-
computers, and one-third used remote-terminal systems attached to a central pro-
cessing unit. Of those using minicomputers, 57 % wrote their own computer
programs mostly using the FORTRAN language, and mainly for clinical and
research purposes. Primary applications of users of central processing computers
were for statistics and large-scale data reduction [190].
448 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
9.6.1 Ophthalmology
technology has evolved to allow the goals of early ISCS creators to be easily imple-
mented. As the technology has become more sophisticated, the computer based
programs have grown richer and richer.
References
1. Alderman EI, Spitz AL, Sanders WJ, Harrison DC. A cardiologist’s evaluation of a computer
cardiac catheterization system. In: Cox J, editor. Computers in cardiology. Long Beach: IEEE
Computer Society; 1974. p. 81–3.
2. Angle HV, Ellinwood EH. A psychiatric assessment-treatment-outcome information system:
evaluation with computer simulation. Proc SCAMC. 1978;149–59.
3. Ausman RK, Baer GD. Machine processing of the operative record. Proc 6th IBM Med
Symp. 1964;553–8.
4. Ausman RK, Moore GE, Grace JT. An automated operative record system. Ann Surg.
1965;162:402.
5. Austin H, Laufman H, Zelner L. Strategic automation for surgery. Comput Healthc.
1987;8:44–9.
6. Ball MJ. Computers-prescription for hospital ills. Datamation. 1975;21:50–1.
7. Ball MJ, Douglas JV, Warnock-Matheron A, Hannah KJ. The case for using computers in the
operating room. West J Med. 1986;145:843.
8. Banta HD, Thacker SB. Costs and benefits of electronic fetal monitoring: a review of the lit-
erature. Hyattsville: National Center for Health Services Research; 1979a.
9. Banta HD, Thacker SB. Policies toward medical technology: the case of electronic fetal mon-
itoring. AJPH. 1979;69:931–5.
10. Barnoon S, Wolfe H. Scheduling a multiple operating room system: a simulation approach.
Health Serv Res. 1968;3:272–85.
11. Beckett PGS. Computers and clinical psychiatry. Med Electron IRE Trans.
1960;ME-7:248–50.
12. Beggs S, Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Jacobs FM, Baker RL. Evaluation of a system for on-line
computer scheduling of patient care activities. Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:634–54.
13. Berg CM, Larson D. Operating room systems software. In: Ball MJ, Hannah KJ, Gerdin
Jelger U, Peterson H, editors. Nursing informatics: where caring and technology meet.
New York: Springer-Verlag; 1988. p. 146–59.
14. Biesada AM. Tooth Tech. The new dentistry. High Technol Bus. 1989(April);28–31.
15. Black GC, Saveanu TI. A search for mental health output measures. Proc SCAMC.
1980b;3:1859–71.
16. Bleich H. Computer evaluation of acid-based disorders. J Clin Invest. 1969;48:1689–96.
17. Bleich HL. The computer as a consultant. N Engl J Med. 1971;284:141–7.
18. Blose WF, Vallbona C, Spencer WA. System for processing clinical research data. II. System
design. Proc 6th IBM symposium. Poughkeepsie: IBM; 1964. p. 463–85.
19. Blum BI, Lenhard RE J, McColligan EE. An integrated data model for patient care. IEEE
Trans Biomed Eng. 1985;32:277–88.
20. Blum B, Lenhard Jr R. A clinical information display system. Proc SCAMC. 1977;131–8.
21. Blum BI, Orthner HE. The MUMPS programming language. In: Helmuth HF, Blum BI, edi-
tors. Implementing health care information systems. New York: Springer; 1989. p. 396–420.
22. Blum BI. Clinical information systems. New York: Springer-Verlag; 1986.
23. Blum BI. An information system for developing information systems. AFIPS Natl Comput
Conf Proc. 1983;52:743–52.
24. Blum RL. Automating the study of clinical hypotheses on a time-oriented clinical database:
The Rx Project. Proc MEDINFO. 1980:456–60.
452 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
25. Blum RL. Automating the study of clinical hypotheses on a time-oriented data base: the RX
project. Proc MEDINFO. 1979;456–60.
26. Brame RG, Hammond WE, Stead WW. The computerized obstetrical record of Duke
University. J Clin Comput. 1974;4:107–20.
27. Brown A. A computer generated aid for scheduling operating rooms. Proc AAMSI Congress.
1984;259–99.
28. Budd JR, Warwick WJ, Wielinski CL, Finkelstein SM. A medical information relational data-
base system (MIRDS). Comp Biomed Res. 1988;21:419–33.
29. Budetti P, Barrand N, McManus P, Heinen LA. The costs and effectiveness of neonatal inten-
sive care. Darby: Diane Publishing; 1981.
30. Burgess CJ, Swigger KM. A data collection system for use by psychiatric patients. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;286–9.
31. Burstein E. Use of a microcomputer system for administration and evaluation of psychologi-
cal testing: the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI). Proc SCAMC.
1980;1872–80.
32. Chodoff P, Gianaris II C. A nurse-computer assisted preoperative anesthesia management
system. Comp Biomed Res. 1973;6:371–92.
33. Clark JS, Veasy LG, Jung AL, Jenkins JL. Automated PO2, PCO2, AND PH monitoring of
infants. Comp Biomed Res. 1971;4:262–74.
34. Clayton PD, Urie PM, Marshall HW, Warner HR. A computerized system for the cardiovas-
cular laboratory. In: Cox JR, Hugenholt, editors. Computers in cardiology. Long Beach:
IEEE Computing Society; 1974. p. 89–93.
35. Coffman GA, Mezzich JE. Research use of a general psychiatric data base. Proc SCAMC.
1983;721–3.
36. Collen MF. A history of medical informatics in the United States, 1950 to 1990. Indianapolis:
American Medical Informatics Association; 1995.
37. Collen MF. General requirements for clinical departmental systems. Proc MEDINFO.
1983;83–9.
38. Collen MF. General requirements of a medical information (MIS). Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:393–406.
39. Colligan RC, Offord KP. Revitalizing the MMPI: the development of contemporary norms.
Psychiatr Ann. 1985;15:558–68.
40. Congleton MW, Glogower FD, Ramsey-Klee D, Roberts AS. Navy Mental Health Information
System (NAMHIS): a psychiatric application of COSTAR. Proc SCAMC. 1984;437–40.
41. Connelly D, Dean DW, Hultman BK. Physician-oriented result reporting in an intensive care
environment. Proc MEDINFO 1986;810–2.
42. Cox Jr J, Kimura TD, Moore P, Gillett W, Stucki MJ. Design studies suggested by an abstract
model for a medical information system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1485–94.
43. Cozen HJ. Computer generated anesthesia record. Proc SCAMC. 1979;615–7.
44. Crouse L, Wiederhold G. An advanced computer for real-time medical applications. Comp
Biomed Res. 1969;2:582–98.
45. Davis RS, Jack DB. A surgical cut into computers. MD Comput. 1985;3:21–8.
46. Dayhoff RE, Ledley RS, Rotolo LS. Newborn screening information system (NBSIS). Proc
SCAMC. 1984;253–6.
47. Diehl M. Strategy for large-scale dental automation. Dent Clin N Am. 1986;30:745–53.
48. Diehl MC, Neiburger EJ. A history of computer applications in dental practice. Proc AAMSI.
1987:362–6.
49. ECRI. Clinical information systems improve with new standard. Health Tech Trends.
1989;1:3–6.
50. Elshtain EL, Haessler HA, Harden CM, Holland T. Field study of an automated pediatric data
base history. Proc Symp Medical Data Processing. Toulouse: IRIA; 1973. p. 47–53.
51. Engelke SC, Paulette EW, Kopelman AE. Neonatal information system using an interactive
microcomputer data base management program. Proc SCAMC. 1981;284–5.
52. Enterline JP, Lenhard RE, Blum BI. The oncology clinical information system. In: Enterline
JP, Lenhard RE, Blum BI, editors. A Clinical Information System for Oncology. New York:
Springer; 1989. p. 1–21.
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 453
53. Ertel PY, Pritchett EL, Chase RC, Ambuel JP. An outpatient data system. New techniques to
meet new demands. JAMA. 1970;211:964–72.
54. Farr FL, Clark JS, Gardner RM, Veasy LG. Using a dedicated small computer in conjunction
with a time-shared system in a hospital intensive care unit. Comp Biomed Res.
1972;5:535–9.
55. Finney JC. Programmed interpretation of MMPI and CPI. Arch Gen Psychiatry.
1966;15:75–81.
56. Fowler RD. The current status of computer interpretation of psychological tests. Am J
Psychiatry. 1969;125:21–7.
57. Friedman C, Hripcsak G, Johnson SB, Cimino JJ, Clayton PD. A generalized relational
schema for an integrated clinical patient database. Proc SCAMC. 1990;335–9.
58. Friedman RH, Krikorian JG, Horwitz JH, Concannon TI. An information system for clinical
research: the cancer data management system. Proc MEDINFO. 1980;876–80.
59. Fries JF, McShane DJ. ARAMIS: a prototypical national chronic-disease data bank. West J
Med. 1986;145:798–804.
60. Fries JF, McShane D. ARAMIS: a national chronic disease data bank system. Proc SCAMC.
1979;798–801.
61. Gabrieli ER. Standardization of medical informatics (special issue). J Clin Comput.
1985;14:62–104.
62. Garrett Jr L, Stead WW, Hammond WE. Conversion of manual to total computerized medical
records. J Med Syst. 1983;7:301–5.
63. Gardner DW, Klatchko DM. A microcomputer based diabetic patient registry for patient
management and clinical research. Proc SCAMC. 1985;87–9.
64. Giebink GA, Hurst LL. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975.
65. Gildea TJ, Bell CW. Advanced techniques in pulmonary function test analysis interpretation
and diagnosis. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:258–65.
66. Goldsmith MF. Computers star in new communication concepts for physically disabled peo-
ple. JAMA. 1989;261:1256–9.
67. Gonzalez F, Fox H. The development and implementation of a computerized on‐line obstetric
record. BJOG Int J Obstet Gynaecol. 1989;96:1323–7.
68. Gotcher SB, Carrick J, Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Carter RE, Cornell S. Daily treatment plan-
ning with an on-line shared computer system. Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:200–5.
69. Greist JH, Klein MH, Erdman HP, Jefferson JW. Clinical computer applications in mental
health. J Med Syst. 1983;7:175–85.
70. Grover J, Spellacy W, Winegar A. Utilization of the University of Illinois regional perinatal
database in three areas. Proc AAMSI. 1983;144–7.
71. Hammer JS, Lyons JS, Strain JJ. Micro-cares: an information management system for psy-
chosocial services in hospital settings. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 234–7.
72. Hammond KW, Munnecke TH. A computerized psychiatric treatment planning system.
Psychiat Serv. 1984;35:160–3.
73. Hammond WE, Stead WW. Bedside terminals: an editorial. MD Comput. 1988;5(1):5–6.
74. Hancock WM, Walter PF, More RA, Glick ND. Operating room scheduling data base analy-
sis for scheduling. J Med Syst. 1988;12:397–409.
75. Harbort RA, Paulsen AW, Frazier WT. Computer generated anesthesia records. Proc SCAMC.
1980;3:1603–10.
76. Harris TR, Bahr JP, editors. The use of computers in perinatal medicine. New York: Praeger
Publishing; 1982.
77. Henley RR, Wiederhold G. An analysis of automated ambulatory medical record systems.
San Francisco: Office of Medical Information Systems, University of California, San
Francisco Medical Center; 1975.
78. Herner & Co. The use of computers in hospitals: report III-survey analysis; report IV- descrip-
tions of computer applications. Bethesda: National Center for Health Services Research;
1968.
454 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
79. Hilberman M, Kamm B, Lamy M, Dietrich HP, Martz K, Osborn JJ. Prediction of respiratory
adequacy following cardiac surgery. In: Cox JR, Hugenholtz PG, editors. Computers in
Cardiology. Long Beach: IEEE Computer Society. 1974;2–4.
80. Hogan MJ, Wallin JD, Kelly MR, Baer R, Barzyk P, Sparks HA. A computerized paramedical
approach to the outpatient management of essential hypertension. Mil Med.
1978;143:771–5.
81. Hon EH. Computer aids in evaluating fetal distress. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1965. p. 409–37.
82. Hoppenbrouwers T, Jilek J, Arakawa K. A system for monitoring cardiorespiratory variables
and transcutaneous blood gases during sleep in the newborn and young infant. Proc
MEDINFO. 1983;644–7.
83. Horwitz J, Thompson H, Concannon T, Friedman RH, Krikorian J, Gertman PM. Computer-
assisted patient care management in medical oncology. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:771–8.
84. Hubbard SM, Martin NB, Blankenbaker LW, Esterhay RJ, Masys DR, et al. The physician
data query (PDQ) cancer information system. J Cancer Educ. 1986;1:79–87.
85. Jacobs I. Computers in ophthalmology. MD Comput. 1985;2:28–34.
86. Jacobsen TJ, Lockee C, Sands C. Development of an operating room management informa-
tion system using multi-user microcomputer technology. Proc SCAMC. 1984;646–8.
87. Janik DS, Swarner OW, Henriksen KM, Wyman ML. A computerized single entry system for
recording and reporting data on high-risk newborn infants. J Pediatr. 1978;93:519–23.
88. Jelovsek FR. Computers in the examining room, the delivery room, and the nursery. MD
Comput. 1984;1:52–8.
89. Jelovsek F, Hammond WE. Experience in computerization of perinatal medical records. Univ
Mich Med Cent J. 1977;43:5–8.
90. Jelovsek FR. Computers in the examining room, the delivery room, and the nursery. MD
Comput. 1987;1:153–9.
91. Jelovsek FR, Deason BP, Richard H. Impact of an on-line information system on patients and
personnel in the medical office. Proc SCAMC. 1982;85–8.
92. Jenkin MA. Clinical specialty systems as an introduction to clinical informatics. Proc
AAMSI. 1983;223–7.
93. Jennett RJ, Gall D, Waterkotte GW, Warford HS. A computerized perinatal data system for a
region. Am J Obstet Gynecol. 1978;131:157–61.
94. Johns RJ, Blum BI. The use of clinical information systems to control cost as well as to
improve care. Trans Am Clin Climatol Assoc. 1978;80:140–51.
95. Johnson ME. Pulmonary testing laboratory computer application. Proc SCAMC.
1980;1:253–7.
96. Kahane SN, Goldberg HR, Roth HP, Lenhard RE, Johannes RS. A multimodal communica-
tions interface for endoscopy data collection with automated text report generation. Proc
MEDINFO. 1986;26–30.
97. Kassirer JP, Brand DH, Schwartz WB. An automated system for data processing in the meta-
bolic balance laboratory. Comp Biomed Res. 1971;4:181–96.
98. Keating III H.J., Sims SC, Balk MA. Computer assisted pre-operative evaluation (CAPE): a
system description. Proc SCAMC. 1984;269.
99. Kessler RR. A comprehensive computer package for ambulatory surgical facilities. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;3:1436–40.
100. Kilpatrick KE, Mackenzie RS, Delaney AG. Expanded-function auxiliaries in general den-
tistry: a computer simulation. Health Serv Res. 1972;7:288–300.
101. Knesper DJ, Quarton GC, Gorodezky MJ, Murray CW. A survey of the users of a working
state mental health information system: implications for the development of improved sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 160–5.
102. Laboratories – Berekeley Scientific. A study of automated clinical laboratory systems. U.S.
health services and mental health administration. Springfield: National Technical Information
Service; 1971.
103. Larks SD. Present status of fetal electrocardiography. Bio-Med Electron IRE Trans.
1962;9:176–80.
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 455
104. Laurent D, Mashruwala MD, Lucas CP. A computerized data-handling system in hyperten-
sion management. Arch Intern Med. 1980;140:345–50.
105. Lederman M, Weil JP. ORIS (operating room information system): a solution whose time has
come. US Healthc. 1989;6:32–3.
106. Lenhard RE, Blum BI, McColligan EE. An information system for oncology. In: Blum BI,
editor. An Information System for Patient Care. New York: Springer-Verlag;1984;385–403.
107. Lenhard RE, Waalkes TP, Herring D. Evaluation of the clinical management of cancer
patients: a pilot study. JAMA. 1983;250:3310–6.
108. Lenhard RE, Blum BI, Sunderland JM, Braine HG, Saral R. The Johns Hopkins oncology
clinical information system. J Med Syst. 1983;7:147–74.
109. Levy N, Say BA. Henry Ford Hospital nephrology information system. Proc MEDINFO.
1983;801–3.
110. Lewis HM, Wheeler JR, Gregory RT. Clinical data base management by microcomputer. J
Med Syst. 1982;6:255–8.
111. Lindberg DAB. The computer and medical care. Springfield: Charles C. Thomas; 1968.
112. Lomatch D, Truax T, Savage P. Use of a relational database to support clinical research:
application in a diabetes Program. Proc SCAMC. 1981;291–5.
113. Lowensohn RI, Moawad AH, Pishotta FT, Gibbons PS. The computer-based OBFILE perina-
tal reporting system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:1192–5.
114. Lyman M, Chi E, Sager N. Automated case review of acute bacterial meningitis of childhood.
Proc MEDINFO. 1983;790–3.
115. Malerstein AJ, Strotz CR, Starkweather JA. A practical approach to automation of psychiatric
hospital records. J Biomed Syst. 1971;2:19–29.
116. Marciniak TA, Leahey CF, Zufall E. Information systems in oncology. Proc MEDINFO.
1986;508–12.
117. Maurer Jr M, Moore P, Mead CN, Johnson JA, Marshall RE, Thomas Jr L. Data management
for rapid access to newborn intensive care information. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1621–9.
118. McColligan EE. Implementing OCIS at Ohio State University. In: Enterline JP, Lenhard RE,
Blum BI, editors. A clinical information systems for oncology. New York: Springer; 1989. p.
241–59.
119. McColligan E, Blum B, Brunn C. An automated care medical record system for ambulatory
care. In: Kaplan B, Jelovsek FR, editors. Proc SCM/SAMS Joint Conf on Ambulatory Care.
1981;72–6.
120. McColligan EE, Jones CE, Lindberg D. An automated operating room scheduling and man-
agement information system. AAMSI Congress. 1983;83:517–22.
121. McColligan EE, Blum BI, Lenhard RE, Johnson MB. The human element in computer-
generated patient management plans. J Med Syst. 1982;6:265–76.
122. McColligan EE, Gordon TA, Jones CE, Stiff JL, Donham RT, Rogers MC. Automated utiliza-
tion analysis as a foundation for effective operating room management. Proc SCAMC.
1984;227–30.
123. McDonald CJ, Tierney W, Blevins L. The benefits of automated medical record systems for
ambulatory care. In: Orthner HE, Blum BI, editors. Implementing health care information
systems. New York: Springer; 1989. p. 67–84.
124. McDonald C, Blevins L, Glazener T, Haas J, Lemmon L, Meeks-Johnson J. Data base man-
agement, feedback control, and the regenstrief medical record. J Med Syst. 1983;7:111–25.
125. McDonald CJ, Wilson G, Blevins L, Seeger J, Chamness D, Smith D, et al. The Regenstrief
medical record system. Proc SCAMC. 1977;168.
126. Meldman MJ. Microprocessor technology for psychiatrists. Proc SCAMC. 1978;216–20.
127. Meldman MJ. Clinical computing in psychiatry: an integrated patient data base approach.
Comput Med. 1975;4:1–2.
128. Menn SJ, Barnett GO, Schmechel D, Owens WD, Pontoppidan H. A computer program to
assist in the care of acute respiratory failure. JAMA. 1973;223:308–12.
129. Mezzich JE, Coffman GA. A computerized alerting system regarding special-concern psy-
chiatric patients. Proc SCAMC. 1984;449–52.
456 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
130. Michas CA, Wilcox JC, Walters RF. A computer-based surgery reporting system: an entry
point to clinical information systems. West J Med. 1976;124:151–8.
131. Michenfelder JD, Terry HR, Anderholm FR, Shaw DG. The application of a new system for
monitoring the surgical patient. Proc 18th Annual Conf Eng Med Biol. 1965;7: 233.
132. Miller PL. ATTENDING: a system which critiques an anesthetic management plan. Proc
AMIA. 1982;36–40.
133. Miller RA, Kapoor WN, Peterson J. The use of relational databases as a tool for conducting
clinical studies. Proc SCAMC. 1983;705–8.
134. Moffatt PH, Heisler BD, Mela WD, Alpert JJ, Goldstein HM. MARCO (Medical Record
Communications): system concept, design and evaluation. Proc SCAMC. 1978;451–68.
135. Muller JH, Kerner ER, Fitzgerald MA. Spirometry for office-based physicians. Med Electron.
1986;70–6.
136. Nagey DA, Wright JN, Mulligan K, Crenshaw Jr C. A convertible perinatal database. MD
Comput Comp Med Pract. 1988;6:28–36.
137. Nault FG, Hanson RJ, L’Heureux D, Mermelstein PD. Evaluation of operating room facilities
and personnel utilization. In: Emlet HE, editor. Challenges and prospects for advanced medi-
cal systems. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1978. p. 61–8.
138. Overall JE, Hollister LE. Computer program for recommendation of treatment for psychiatry
patients. Proc 16th Annual Conf Eng Biol. 1963;5:126–7.
139. Pearlman MH, Hammond E, Thompson HK. An automated “well-baby” questionnaire.
Pediatrics. 1973;51:972–9.
140. Pearson JS, Swenson WM, Rome HP, Mataya P, Brannick TL. Further experience with the
automated Minnesota multiphasic personality inventory. Mayo Clin Proc. 1964;39:823–9.
141. Piotrowski ZA. Digital-computer interpretation of inkblot test data. Psychiatr Q.
1964;38:1–26.
142. Pollak VE, Buncher CR, Donovan ER. On-line computerized data handling system for treat-
ing patients with renal disease. Arch Intern Med. 1977;137:446–56.
143. Porter D. Patient responses to computer counseling. Proc SCAMC. 1978;233–7.
144. Post EM, Bolitsky BA. Integration of computer utilization for medical office practice. Proc
SCAMC. 1987;631–5.
145. Pryor DB, Stead WW, Hammond WE, Califf RM, Rosati RA. Features of TMR for a success-
ful clinical and research database. Proc SCAMC. 1982;79–83.
146. Pryor DB, Califf RM, Harrell FE, Hlatky MA, Lee KL, Mark DB, et al. Clinical data bases:
accomplishments and unrealized potential. Med Care. 1985;23:623–47.
147. Pryor TA, Ho SJ, Stephen RL. Computer systems for management and research in end-stage
renal disease. In: Shoemaker WC, Tavares BM, editors. Current topics in critical care medi-
cine, vol. 3. Basel: S. Karger; 1977. p. 93–111.
148. Reisman A, Emmons H, Morito S, Rivaud J, Green EJ. Planning a dental practice with a
management game. J Med Syst. 1978;2:71–83.
149. Robson J, Braunstein HM. Computerized growth record for clinic use. Pediatrics.
1977;60:643–6.
150. Rome HP. Automation techniques in personality assessment: the problem and procedure.
JAMA. 1962;182:1069–72.
151. Rosen MG, Sokol RJ, Chik L. Use of computers in the labor and delivery suite: an overview.
Obstet Gynecol. 1978;132:589–94.
152. Rosner SW, Palmer A, Caceres CA. A computer program for computation and interpretation
of pulmonary function data. Comp Biomed Res. 1971;4:141–56.
153. Rothrock JJ. ASTM: the standards make the pieces fit. Proc AAMSI Congr. 1989;327–35.
154. Rutt TE. Work of IEEE P1157 medical data interchange committee. Int J Clin Monit Comput.
1989;6:45–57.
155. Sadler Jr C. Orthopedic computing: bone and joint computer connection. MD Comput.
1984;1:39–47.
156. Safran C, Porter D, Lightfoot J, Rury CD, Underhill LH, Bleich HL, et al. ClinQuery: a sys-
tem for online searching of data in a teaching hospital. Ann Intern Med. 1989;111:751–6.
157. Sanders SJ, Sheppard AP, Spurlock JM. Micro-computer controlled care system for the
severely physically impaired. Proc SCAMC. 1984;886–91.
9 Information Systems for Clinical Subspecialties 457
158. Schenthal JE. Clinical concepts in the application of large scale electronic data processing.
Proc 2nd IBM Medical Symp. Endicott, NY: IBM.1960;391–9.
159. Schenthal JE. Development aspects of a biomedical data processing systems. Proc 3rd IBM
medical symposium. Endicott: IBM; pp 167–74.
160. Schmidt NM, Brown ACD. The prediction of surgeon-specific operating room time. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;800–4.
161. Seime RJ, Rine DC. The behavioral medicine data retrieval and analysis program at West
Virginia University Medical Center. Proc SCAMC. 1978;125–36.
162. Serber MJ, Mackey R, Young CW. The Sloan-Kettering information system for clinical
oncology. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:728–32.
163. Shaffer MJ, Kaiser PR, Klingenmaier CH, Gordon MR. Manual record-keeping and statisti-
cal records for the operating room. Med Instrum. 1978;12:192–7.
164. Shonfeld EM, Kerekes J, Rademacher CA, Weihrer AL, Abraham S, Silver H, et al.
Methodology for computer measurement of pulmonary function curves. CHEST
J. 1964;46:427–34.
165. Simborg DW. An emerging standard for health communications: the HL7 standard. Healthc
Comput Commun. 1987;4:58. 60.
166. Slack WV. Patient counseling by computer. Proc SCAMC. 1978;222–6.
167. Slack WV, Slack CW. Talking to a computer about emotional problems: a comparative study.
Psychother Theory Res Pract. 1977;14:156–63.
168. Slack WV, Slack CW. Patient-computer dialogue. N Engl J Med. 1972;286:1304–9.
169. Slosarik W, Luger G, Kirkpatrick J, Koffler H, Burstein R. The UNMH intensive care infor-
mation system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1576–80.
170. Southard TE, Rails SA. A computerized dental examination record system. Comput Bio Med.
1986;16:59–67.
171. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. Digitation of clinical and research data in serial evaluation of dis-
ease processes. IRE Trans Med Electron. 1960;ME-7:296–308.
172. Spencer WA. An opinion survey of computer applications in 149 hospitals in the USA,
Europe and Japan. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:215–34.
173. Spencer WA, Vallbona C. A preliminary report on the use of electronic data processing tech-
nics in the description and evaluation of disability. Arch Phys Med Rehabil. 1962;43:22–35.
174. Starkweather JA. Computer simulation of psychiatric interviewing. In: Kline N, Laska EM,
editors. Computers and electronic devices in psychiatry. New York: Grune & Stratton; 1968.
p. 12–9.
175. Starkweather JA. Computer methods for the study of psychiatric interviews. Compr
Psychiatry. 1967;8:509–20.
176. Starkweather JA. Computest: a computer language for individual testing, instruction, and
interviewing. Psychol Rep. 1965;17:227–37.
177. Starkweather JA, Decker JB. Computer analysis of interview content. Psychol Rep.
1964;15:875–82.
178. Stead WW, Brame RG, Hammond WE, Jelovser FR, Estes EH, Parker RT. A computerized
obstetric medical record. Obstet Gynecol. 1977;49:502–9.
179. Stead WW, Hammond WE. How to realize savings with a computerized medical record. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;2:1200–5.
180. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Straube MJ. A chartless record: is it adequate? Proc SCAMC.
1982;89–94.
181. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Functions required to allow TMR to support the information
requirements of a hospital. Proc SCAMC. 1983;106–9.
182. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Winfree RG. Beyond a basic HIS: work stations for department
management. Proc SCAMC. 1984;197–9.
183. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Straube MJ. A chartless record: is it adequate? J Med Syst.
1983;7:103–9.
184. Stillman R, Roth WT, Colby KM, Rosenbaum CP. An on-line computer system for initial
psychiatric inventory. Am J Psychiatry. 1969;125:8–11.
185. Stodolsky D. The computer as a psychotherapist. Int J Man-Mach Stud. 1970;2:327–50.
458 M.F. Collen and N.M. Lorenzi
186. Strotz CR, Malerstein AJ, Starkweather JA. SEARCH: a physician-oriented, computer-based
information retrieval system. J Biomed Syst. 1970;1:41–8.
187. Swenson WM. An aging psychologist assesses the impact of age on MMPI profiles. Psychiatr
Ann. 1985;15:554–7.
188. Swenson WM. Symposium on automation technics in personality testing: the test. Mayo
Clinic Proc. 1962;37:65–72.
189. Swenson WM, Pearson JS. Psychiatry: psychiatric screening. J Chronic Dis.
1966;19:497–507.
190. Tepas DI. Computer use in the psychology laboratory: a survey. Comput Programs Biomed.
1974;4:53–8.
191. Thomas JC, Moore AC. Content of an automated ambulatory record system for clinical deci-
sions. In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia
Specialists; 1977. p. 153–60.
192. Thompson DA. Monitoring total parenteral nutrition with the pocket computer. Comput
Nurs. 1984;2:183–8.
193. Tira DE, Tharp LB, Lipson LF. Computers in dental education. Promise of the past versus
reality of the present. Dent Clin N Am. 1986;30:681–94.
194. Tolchin SG, Barta W. Local network and distributed processing issues in the Johns Hopkins
Hospital. J Med Syst. 1986;10:339–53.
195. Truax T, Savage P, Lomatch D. Microcomputer assisted data management in a diabetes clinic.
Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:1183–91.
196. Vallbona C. The usefulness of computers in the management of the chronically ill and dis-
abled. So Med Bull. 1969;57:25–8.
197. Vallbona C, Spencer WA. Texas institute for research and rehabilitation hospital computer
system (Houston). In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley;
1974. p. 662–700.
198. Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Moffet CL. The patient care centered information system of the
Texas Institute for Rehabilitation and Research. In: Collen MF, editor. Proc Int Conf on
Health Technol Syst. ORSA. 1973;232–60.
199. Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Geddes LA, Blose WF, Canzoneri J. Experience with on-line moni-
toring in critical illness. Spectr IEEE. 1966;3:136–40.
200. Vallbona C, Pevny E, McMath F. Computer analysis of blood gases and of acid-base status.
Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:623–33.
201. Warner HR. Experiences with computer-based patient monitoring. Anesth Analg.
1968;47:453–62.
202. Wasserman AI, Stinson SK. A specification method for interactive medical information sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1471–8.
203. Wheeler PS, Simborg DW, Gitlin JN. The Johns Hopkins radiology reporting system.
Radiology. 1976;119:315–9.
204. Wilson DH. A private practice medical computing system: an evolutionary approach. Comput
Med. 1974;3:1–2.
205. Wirtschafter DD, Blackwell WC, Goldenberg RL, et al. A county-wide obstetrical automated
medical record system. J Med Syst. 1982;6:277–90.
206. Witten M. PEDS: an expert pediatric evaluation and diagnostic system. Proc SCAMC.
1987;507–13.
207. Yeh S, Lincoln T. From micro to mainframe. Am J Perinatol. 1985;2:158–60.
208. Yeh S, Teberg AJ, Phelan JR. A practical approach to perinatal data processing in a large
obsteric population. Proc MEDINFO. 1983;656–8.
209. Young B. Anesthesiologists breathe easier with computer assistance. Comput Med. 1981;10:1.
210. Zajac TH. A microcomputer based management control system in the operating suite. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;242–5.
211. Zimmerman JL. Computer applications in dentistry. Philadelphia: WB Saunders Co; 1986.
212. Zviran M, Blow R. DMSS: a computer-based diabetes monitoring system. J Med Syst.
1989;13:293–308.
Chapter 10
Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs)
clinics, and clinical support services. The important effect of economics on the
development of MHISs was emphasized by Ermann and Gabel [39], who observed
that at the time of the enactment of Medicare and Medicaid legislation in 1965,
there were no investor-owned hospital information systems in the United States. By
1970 there were 29 investor-owned MHISs that owned 207 hospitals. In 1975 about
25 % of community hospitals belonged to a MHIS. In 1983 one in every seven hos-
pitals, with nearly 19 % of the nation’s hospital beds, was part of an investor-owned
MHIS. In September 1984 there were 53 investor-owned systems in operation; the
four largest, Hospital Corporation of America (HCA), Humana, Inc., National
Medical Enterprises, Inc. (NMR), and American Medical International, Inc. (AMI),
owned or managed 53 % of investor-owned systems of hospitals and 75 % of the
hospital beds [39]. By the mid-1980s, 44 % of hospitals were part of some MHIS
[102]. Ermann and Gabel [39] further explained that the increasing financial pres-
sure on hospitals to remain solvent stimulated the growth of MHISs. Hospitals
required large sums of capital to replace, renovate, modernize, and expand, result-
ing in an increased use of cost-based reimbursement by Medicare, Medicaid, and
Blue Cross. It also reduced the hospital’s incentive to control expenditures of finance
capital in the least expensive manner, further fostering debt financing.
It was soon recognized that very complex information systems were essential if
the perceived advantages of multi-hospital information systems (MHISs) over inde-
pendent single hospital information systems (HISs) were to be fully realized. The
expected advantages of MHISs included (1) economic benefits, including improved
access to capital, increased efficiency, economies of scale, and ability to diversify;
(2) personnel and management benefits, such as improved recruiting, and ability to
develop and retain high caliber staff; and (3) planning, program, and organizational
benefits with a regional rather than a local perspective on health needs; and greater
power to control environmental factors [40].
When health care systems merged and evolved into a higher level of organiza-
tion, such as was required in a MHIS, the amount of information that was processed
at this new level was more than that at the lower levels owing to the greater diversity
of the components. MHISs required more complex information systems with
sophisticated communications and networks between facilities, and thus they
evolved. The added information needs of a MHIS resulted from the associated
responsibility for continuing, long-term patient care, such as under governmental
sponsorship as in the Department of Defense and the Veterans Administration, or
under private ownership such as health insurance agencies and health maintenance
organizations. The need developed for MHISs to link and integrate all information
from all affiliated facilities for each patient into one medical record for the full
period of time that the health care program was responsible for the patient’s care. In
such large health care programs, patients moved continually between hospitals and
clinics and physicians’ offices; and sometimes these facilities were located some
distances from each other. In such instances, the traditional separation of the
patient’s medical record in each facility could be a serious impediment to a good
quality of continuing care. For example, a physician might be unaware of a prior
treatment for a chronic or recurring ailment because the medical record had not
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 461
arrived from another treatment facility. As a result, by the 1980s, larger health care
systems in the United States were becoming more vertically integrated for all inpa-
tient, outpatient, and ancillary services. In addition, they were acquiring multiple
facilities and becoming more horizontally integrated to provide a broader range of
acute, specialized, chronic, and extended care services.
The functional and technical requirements for MHISs were basically similar to
those described in Chaps. 5 and 6 for outpatient information systems (OISs) and
hospital information systems (HISs). The primary differences in their requirements
were in scale for an increased workload and broader communications and interoper-
ability. Because a patient’s data was collected in multiple facilities, MHISs had to
link, communicate, and integrate this data among all these facilities, as well as
between their multiple departments and subsystems. A completely integrated MHIS
often had difficulty in meeting all the different objectives of its individual compo-
nents. As a result, they usually exercised central coordination of their information
services, supervised the security and confidentiality of computer-based patient data,
and controlled the central databases for patients, personnel, services, and resources.
Yet they generally supported decentralized computing applications to allow for dif-
ferences in local business, administrative, and clinical requirements. In time, the
MHISs usually provided centralized patient identification and eligibility files;
scheduling, order entry, and results reporting for centralized services such as a
regional laboratory; and tracking of pharmacy drug usage prescribed for patients by
different physicians within multiple facilities. In the 1980s and into the 1990s users
needed not only to exchange data between facilities, but also to exchange images
and documents; they required electronic mail for interfacility consultations; they
needed word processing and facsimile exchange; and they wanted online access to
the National Library of Medicine’s MEDLINE and its factual databases. For plan-
ning purposes, management sought patient demographic, broad environmental, and
community social data.
Prior to the advent of open architecture systems in the 1980s, the technical speci-
fications for a MHIS required uniform computer and communication standards for
all hospitals and clinics in the system, so as to permit the integration of data from its
various subsystem databases. Because MHISs required a high level of data integra-
tion, a single vendor was often mandated to support more consistent, interoperable,
and compatible data handling procedures, file management, database organization,
patient data security, computer hardware and software. In the 1980s and into the
1990s local area network (LAN) links were being used within most large hospitals
between computers, between computers and workstations, and between worksta-
tions. Wide area networks (WAN) and satellite links were being used for
communication between distant hospitals’ computers. The new integrated services
digital network (ISDN) began to allow integration of voice, text, and images on one
462 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
physical line. The ability of ISDN to use twisted-pair cables within a hospital
offered an alternative to other network technologies and permitted transmission of
high quality images between hospitals.
Frey [42] and associates at Stanford Medical Center described the Advanced
Computer for Medical Research (ACME) system that was developed as a research
database able to (1) handle many data sets of many varieties and sizes, some that
had to be held for long periods of time and some that required frequent updating; (2)
minimize inadvertent loss of data; and (3) serve a group of medical researchers who
often were inexperienced in computer technology. A typewriter terminal-driven,
time-sharing system, ACME was designed to acquire, analyze, store, and retrieve
medical research data, and to control laboratory instruments; it was served by an
IBM 360-50 computer, with access to 2,741 typewriter terminals, and a variety of
laboratory instruments that were interfaced through an IBM 1800 analog-digital
computer with disc drives for storage and magnetic tape storage for backup and
archival storage.
Translational databases evolved in the 1990s with the development of federated
databases and more advanced designs of database management systems to (1) opti-
mize the translation, transformation, linkage, exchange, and integration of the
increasingly voluminous medical information that was becoming accessible from
many large databases in multiple institutions that were widely located, by using
wide area networks, the Internet, and the World Wide Web; (2) provide access to
high-performance, super-computing resources; (3) facilitate the concurrent query,
analyses, and applications of large amounts of data by multidisciplinary teams; (4)
encourage knowledge discovery and data mining, and support the transfer of new
evidence-based knowledge into direct patient care; and (5) advance the use of bio-
medical computational methods. Since most data warehouses had been developed
with database management systems that employed their own legacy and data-
encoding standards, their source data usually required some reorganization and
modification in order to be compatible and interoperable with data transferred from
other data warehouses, and then be merged into a single database schema. Thus the
development of translational database software became necessary.
Translational informatics was developed in the 2000s to support querying diverse
information resources located in multiple institutions. The National Center of
Biomedical Computing (NCBC) developed technologies to address locating, query-
ing, composing, combining, and mining biomedical resources; each site that
intended to contribute to the inventory needed to transfer a biosite-map that con-
formed to a defined schema and a standard set of metadata. Mirel and associates
[94] at the University of Michigan described using their Clinical and Translational
Research Explorer project with its Web-based browser to facilitate searching and
finding relevant biomedical resources for biomedical research. They were able to
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 463
query more than 800 data resources from 38 institutions with Clinical and
Translational Science Awards (CTSA) funding. Funded by the National Centers for
Biomedical Computing (NCBC), they collaborated with ten institutions and 40
cross-disciplinary specialists in defining task-based objectives and user require-
ments to support users of their project.
Denny and associates [31] at Vanderbilt University developed an algorithm for
phenome-wide association scans (PheWAS) when identifying genetic associations
in electronic patient records (EPRs). Using the International Classification of
Diseases (ICD9) codes, they developed a code translation table and automatically
defined 776 different disease population groups derived from their EPR data. They
genotyped a group of 6005 patients in their Vanderbilt DNA biobank, at five single
nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs), who also had ICD9 codes for seven selected
medical diagnoses (atrial fibrillation, coronary artery disease, carotid artery disease,
Crohn’s disease, multiple sclerosis, rheumatoid arthritis, and systemic lupus erythe-
matosis) to investigate SNP-disease associations. They reported that using the
PheWAS algorithm, four of seven known SNP-disease associations were replicated,
and also identified 19 previously unknown statistical associations between these
SNPs and diseases at P < 0.01.
In the 1960s The Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis had a centralized admin-
istration for their multi-hospital information system (MHIS) that comprised 12
health care institutions; which included ten general hospitals, a continuing care cen-
ter, and a geriatric care unit, all located in Illinois, Michigan, and Iowa. In 1961 a
group headed by Huff [68] initiated time-shared services in their hospital in Peoria,
Illinois; over the next few years they expanded the services to all their facilities. By
the end of 1963, their MHIS provided centralized payroll, accounts payable, general
ledger, financial reporting, accounts receivable, and inpatient billing. In 1970 they
were acquired by the McDonnell-Douglas Automation Company (MCAUTO) of St.
Louis, and became the Health Services Division of MCAUTO. In 1979 McDonnell-
Douglas introduced its Patient Care System (PCS), after having acquired additional
modules to provide a fairly comprehensive MHIS. In the mid-1980s it responded
with its PCS to requests for proposals from the Veterans Administration (VA) and
the Department of Defense (DoD). Lindberg [85] at the University of Missouri-
Columbia, was already operating a MHIS for a statewide network in Missouri and
using standard telephone lines. Lindberg found that the costs for transmission of
data via telephone lines over a network were about equal to the costs for computer
rental, but likely exceeded the computer problems in complexity and importance;
and concluded that the issue of backup systems, ready access to distant medical
communities, interactive inquiry for users, integrity of systems against
464 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
The U.S. Public Health Service (PHS) began in 1976 to develop for its PHS hospi-
tals its own multi-hospital information system (MHIS), called the Public Health
Automated Medical Information System (PHAMIS). PHAMIS was designed to
meet the clinical data processing requirements of nine hospitals and of 26 free-
standing PHS clinics. The primary beneficiaries of the PHS hospitals and clinics
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 465
were American seamen, active duty and retired uniformed members of the Coast
Guard, members of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, and
PHS officers. In his comments on the PHAMIS concept at the 1979 Symposium for
Computer Applications in Medical Care (SCAMC), Glaser reported that in 1976
approximately 540,000 individuals received care in PHS facilities. The ultimate
objective of PHAMIS was to replace the handwritten medical record with a
computer-based health information system which would support patient care, hos-
pital management, and clinical research activities.
In 1979 PHAMIS was still in a developmental stage. Its patient registration mod-
ule gave patients a unique identification number and included demographic infor-
mation. An admission, discharge, transfer (ADT) and bed-control system recorded
the admission of patients to the facility and kept track of bed occupancy. At the PHS
facility in Seattle, there was an appointment scheduling system in one clinic. An
outpatient pharmacy module maintained a complete medication history, which
included known allergies, as part of the patient’s medical database. In 1979 an auto-
mated laboratory information system was in the procurement phase, to be interfaced
with PHAMIS. Problem lists for outpatients were maintained in one clinic. The
patient database stored all patient information in a single central file. With the same
patient identification number used in all facilities, it was possible to integrate a
patient record from different facilities by storing the information in a central data-
base common to all facilities and also in local databases that were queried as
required. For example, a request for a medication profile retrieved all the recent
medications received, regardless of the dispensing facility. The PHS hospitals were
closed in the 1980s. In 1981 Glaser founded PHAMIS, Inc., as a private vendor; and
further development and marketing was continued commercially. By the end of the
1980s Seattle-based PHAMIS was installing its own MHIS, now called
LASTWORD, with a long-term integrated relational database and modules for
inpatient and outpatient care, in the Humana Hospitals system [89].
The U.S. Indian Health Service (IHS) had unique requirements for providing
health services to its patients. In 1955 responsibility for the health care of Native
Americans and Native Alaskans was transferred to the PHS from the Bureau of Indian
Affairs. The Surgeon General established the Division of Indian Health to administer
the program. In the 1960s there were 380,000 Native American and Alaskan people
living in 23 states on federal Indian reservations and in Alaska [108]. In the 1970s the
IHS took care of about 750,000 people and operated 52 hospitals, 99 full-time health
centers, and several hundred health stations. Garratt [47] described the status of the
MHIS being developed by the IHS in 1979 as being a widely dispersed, multi-facility,
multi-disciplinary, multi-organizational, multi-level Patient Care Information System
(PCIS) designed to operate in this environment. Prototype versions of PCIS became
operational in southern Arizona in 1969 and in central Alaska in 1974. A pilot test of
the PCIS was implemented in all IHS facilities in the states of Montana and Wyoming,
and it became operational in December 1978. A second pilot test including all IHS
facilities in Alaska became operational in April 1979.
A third large-scale project was initiated in 1979 on the Navajo Reservation. The
PCIS maintained a computer-stored single record for each patient; and the record
466 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
contained relevant health data from each encounter with all providers of care at all
facilities. This required the linkage of health data from all sources of care. Multipart
encounter forms were used by all health professionals to document all visits. The
original copy of the encounter form provided the legal record of the patient visit and
included prescription blanks for ordering medications, consultation and referral
requests, appointment slips, and instructions to patients. Copies of all PCIS forms
were mailed to a central data processing center in Tucson, Arizona, where ICD-
9-CM codes were added for all diagnoses and to any narrative free text. The data
were then entered by keyboard, and stored on magnetic tape. The tape files of data
were then sent to the computer center in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where a master
tape file was created from which all reports were generated. Computer output to
microfiche was used to provide patient health summaries that contained significant
medical data from all services. The health summaries were updated every 2 weeks
and were distributed to all appropriate PCIS users. The average turnaround time
from the date of encounter to the receipt and availability of health summaries back
in Alaska was approximately 4–6 weeks [18]. The data available to a clinician at a
facility included the facility’s medical record, which contained the original copies
of past input forms completed at that facility, together with paper copies of the
computer-generated microfiche health summaries with essential medical informa-
tion from all inpatient and outpatient facilities [131].
In 1983 the IHS implemented its Resource and Patient Management System
(RPMS). This replaced the centralized PCIS, which had been programmed in
COBOL language, and operated in a mainframe environment. RPMS used the VA
Decentralized Hospital Computer Program (DHCP), which was programmed in the
MUMPS language, used the DHCP File Manager database management system,
and operated in a distributed minicomputer setting [30]. At the end of the 1980s, a
typical RPMS configuration in a health facility included patient registration, phar-
macy, dental, maternal and child health, contract health services, and laboratory,
together with its Patient Care Component (PCC) [69]. The PCC of the RPMS used
the File Manager database and provided a computer-based patient record for the
collection, storage, and retrieval of the patient health data from all sites. Ultimately,
the patient’s health information from multiple facilities was integrated in the PCC
database at each site where the patient had an active medical record. Revised multi-
purpose forms were still used for collecting patient data, and the originals were filed
in the patients’ paper charts. A data entry module featured English language textual
data entered from PCC encounter forms, with automated coding of the data where
necessary. At that date the health summary report was the principal output of the
PCC. A structured report extracted from the PCC database, it was displayed in a
standardized format, printed routinely whenever a patient was seen, and updated by
the entry of new data from the encounter forms. The health summary included an
integrated report of the patient’s demographic data, an overview of the medical
history, a list of active medical problems, inpatient and outpatient visits, recent med-
ications, laboratory test reports, allergies and immunizations, and health reminders.
The facility’s visual display terminals permitted users to retrieve a variety of other
reports from a displayed menu. In 1989 the IHS had the PCC operational in 53 sites.
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 467
In the 1980s the Veterans Administration (VA), an agency of the federal govern-
ment, operated 172 hospitals and 229 outpatient clinics. There were about 26 mil-
lion veterans in the United States; the VA provided care to 1.5 million inpatients
and furnished almost 20 million outpatient visits per year to these veterans. The VA
was the largest centrally coordinated civilian health care system in the United
States.
Since the 1950s the VA had maintained, in Chicago, a national centralized
computer-based file of all VA patients that included their identification data,
claims, and Social Security numbers. A Patient Treatment File contained inpatient
admission and discharge data including diagnoses, surgical procedures, and
patient disposition data. Initially, each month every VA hospital submitted a deck
of punched cards to the processing center. Each card represented data covering a
completed hospital episode for an individual patient [23]. They soon extended the
Patient Treatment File to include outpatient visits and used this central database as
their Automated Management Information System (AMIS) at the Veterans
Administration Central Office [110]. Data from clinical records in all VA treat-
ment facilities were coded locally onto standardized forms, and these coded data
forms were sent to the computer center for editing and entry into the computer.
These data were used primarily for statistical analyses by the VA Administration
[28].
In 1960 the VA began to explore the use of computers in its medical program
when it reached an agreement with the Systems Development Corporation in Santa
Monica, California, to use the Los Angeles VA Center and the Wadsworth General
Medical and Surgical Hospital to prepare a comprehensive HIS functional require-
ments description. Successful implementation of the total simulated hospital opera-
tions was started the last week of March 1962 [133]. In 1965 the VA installed a pilot
Automated Hospital Information System (AHIS) in its 710-bed hospital in
Washington, DC. They used an IBM 360/40 computer with 40 input-output terminal
devices consisting of IBM 1052 typewriters and IBM 1092 keyboards with variable-
overlay plastic key mats. Plans were to develop subsystems corresponding to the
organizational divisions of the hospital: admissions and dispositions, medications,
laboratory, radiology, dietetics, surgery, central services, clinic and ward care,
patient information, and medical administration [111]. A regional data processing
center was to collect and store the current patient-treatment data while the patient
was in the hospital. Any permanently required data would be transferred into a
Patient Treatment File in a central database, which would serve as the historical
record of all treatment episodes for each person served by a VA medical installation.
Budd [19], then chief data manager of the VA, reported that they expected the date
for completion of the pilot AHIS project in September 1967. In 1968 and 1969,
several modules were reported as being operational in the VA hospital in Washington,
DC [24]. However, this pilot system was soon found to be an inadequate solution for
468 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
the VA’s requirements for an MHIS, and the pilot project was terminated. During the
1970s a variety of clinical computer applications were developed independently in
several different VA hospitals, mostly using MUMPS software for applications pro-
gramming and File Manager as the database management system [71].
The File Manager had its origin in the early 1970s at the Beth Israel Hospital in
Boston as the MISAR application package [73]. MISAR (Miniature Information
Storage and Retrieval System) was developed by Karpinski and Bleich [75] as a
general-purpose, time-sharing, information storing and retrieval system that facili-
tated the rapid creation, maintenance, and searching of small data files. In 1978 the
rewriting of the MISAR II program from a dialect of MUMPS into the Standard
MUMPS language, while adding a substantial number of desired enhancements,
was undertaken by a San Francisco VA hospital staff member [73]. The VA File
Manager allowed the user to define new files; add new attributes to existing files;
enter, edit, and delete data within those files; and then list or search the files for any
combination of data elements [126]. Hauser [57] extolled the importance of the
advocates of the MUMPS language in the development of the DHCP by noting that
there were two non-VA organizations which had significant roles in the success of
the DHCP, namely the MUMPS Users Group (MUG) and the MUMPS Development
Committee (MDC), custodian of the MUMPS ANSI standard. Many VA medical
professionals employed professional networks and used MUMPS to create small
prototype applications in the clinic setting; this grass roots effort was dubbed the
MUMPS “Underground Railroad.”
In February 1982, to provide some central management, the VA Administrator
developed a policy of support for the decentralized computer operations in the VA
medical centers, and directed the establishment of six regional Verification and
Development Centers (VDCs) to assist with the implementation of computer-based
medical applications at the medical centers. In addition, a VA Project Management
Task Force was formed to compile an inventory of computer capabilities in the field
and to develop plans for implementing existing in-house developed software on
available computers. In June 1982 the Medical Information Resources Management
Office (MIRMO) was established to further the task force’s objectives by assisting
with the creation of the regional VDCs, developing a complete Department of
Medicine and Surgery (DM&S) Automated Data Processing (ADP) Plan, and for-
mulating procurement and budget strategies in support of field ADP needs [34].
Originally MIRMO had been given the responsibility for the planning, direction,
and control of the DM&S information-system development program, but its overall
responsibilities were re-delegated to the VA’s regional directors and the VDCs. In
April 1983 DM&S published its first ADP Plan that identified the major objectives
of the Veterans Administration Decentralized Hospital Computer Program (DHCP):
(1) Provide adequate ADP support for key functions in all VA medical centers; (2)
Implement an integrated DM&S management information system; (3) Decentralize
to the field the responsibilities for ADP planning, budgeting, and operations to the
maximum extent possible; and (4) Improve the management of information
resources [34].
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 469
In 1983 Special Interest User Groups (SIUGs) composed of field- and central-
office program-area experts were established, and they initiated a department-wide
computer literacy effort. The high degree of decentralization in the VA Decentralized
Hospital Computer Program (DHCP) was demonstrated by the great responsibili-
ties delegated to the SIUGs for system development. The SIUG’s many responsi-
bilities were to: (1) Recommend development, enhancement, and modification of a
data processing system, and work closely with the Verification and Development
Centers (VDCs) which were assigned the primary responsibility for the software
development. (2) Establish priorities for system development. (3) Develop and
maintain functional requirements for DM&S automated systems. (4) Provide pro-
fessional assistance to the VDCs in the specialty area. (5) Assist VDCs in system
validation and certification. (6) Recommend means for resolving conflicts between
automated systems and the current modes of operation. (7) Participate in implemen-
tation planning and execution. (8) Monitor the status of system development in the
specialty areas. (9) Represent the program area in DHCP/CORE activities. (10)
Serve as an advocate for program-area interests in the competition for system
resources (DM&S [35]).
Great authority was granted to the six Verification and Development Centers
(VDCs), one for each VA medical region and to their Council, to ensure uniform
and compatible systems throughout the VA. This arrangement essentially delegated
oversight, direction, and control of the DHCP to the VDC Council. Each VDC pro-
vided a central point of technical expertise and support for its region and was
responsible for installation, implementation, support, and maintenance of the DHCP
CORE and all CORE applications in each VA medical center (VAMC) within the
region. It was responsible for dissemination of standard programs, for new releases
of existing programs and locally developed software, and for maintenance of an
inventory of all software. The VDC assisted in the preparation, review, and approval
of facility data processing plans. Some VDCs were also responsible for the develop-
ment and maintenance of CORE software modules. The VDC Council was com-
posed of six VDC directors, and was responsible for recommending software
development and verification, and for providing guidance to the VA in the imple-
mentation of the DHCP. Coordination of activities at a national level was estab-
lished to prevent duplication of effort, to assure exportability of systems, and to
assure the rapid development of a complete VA Management Information System
made possible by VA Standardized Data Dictionaries in use at every VAMC. To
carry out the continuing decentralized effort, the DHCP was initiated and adminis-
tered by the DM&S. Within the DHCP a DHCP Kernel and a DHCP CORE system
were developed, both written in the MUMPS programming language and sharing a
common patient database.
A set of software tools for database management, electronic communications,
security, and software management, the Kernel provided the basic tools that held
the system together and provided the means for individual sites to adapt to their
unique user, database, and security needs. The Kernel allowed both centrally
developed and locally adapted software to coexist [99]. Composed of routines that
470 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
interfaced DHCP application packages with the MUMPS operating system, the
Kernel insulated applications from operating system-specific concerns, and
allowed the writing of applications that would run on any MUMPS operating sys-
tem. The Kernel included the VA FileMan (File Manager), which was the database
for the DHCP. Initially the CORE system of applications included patient identifi-
cation and registration, admission/discharge/transfer, ward census, clinic schedul-
ing, and outpatient pharmacy. The Full VA CORE system added inpatient
pharmacy, clinical laboratory, and radiology [71]. The Full CORE system was
planned for all VAMCs, with terminals located on wards for order entry and ward
reporting.
Developers of the DHCPs recognized the importance of system and data stan-
dardization, and the difficulty of achieving standardization in a decentralized opera-
tion. Before any program was put into operational use at more than one location, it
was verified by one of the Verification and Development Centers (VDCs). The
Kernel database approach allowed system users to modify the CORE system at its
local level; for example, by appending extra fields to the standard data elements of
the CORE database, without foregoing standardization. The format, definition,
names, and range of values of the CORE data elements were mandatory and could
not be changed by an individual VAMC. The Department of Medicine and Surgery
(DM&S) established a VA Hospital Information Systems Data Dictionary to man-
date a common data structure for use in the various field-developed systems, and to
insure standardization throughout the hospital network. By December 1987 the
DHCP Data Dictionary comprised several volumes. For example, the second vol-
ume contained for each data element, a file location, label, type, and description. It
had a glossary of specific terms used by the inpatient pharmacy and clinical labora-
tory. VA Medical Center (VAMC) directors had the authority to add optional appli-
cation programs; they produced an Enhanced DHCP Software that was developed
in the standard MUMPS programming language in various VAMCs, and was made
available to other VAMCs that had a need for such support. Although not considered
part of CORE, the Enhanced DHCP software was used in conjunction with the
CORE system, sharing the same patient database. Enhanced DHCP software
included the medical service, surgical service, radiology, dietetics, patient records
tracking, nursing, mental health, social work, dentistry, and engineering. In 1982, so
that they would conform to generally used community hospital standards, the com-
puter programs were modified to permit the Patient Treatment File to calculate
patients’ length of stay, average daily census, projected annual hospital days, and
required hospital beds. Later, an algorithm was added to adjust for diagnostic related
group (DRG) classification for claims reimbursement [76]. In December 1982 leg-
islation was passed that supported the VA program and directed the agency to con-
centrate its resources on DHCP implementation and to provide a single VA patient
database that could be accessed by all users.
In 1983 the U.S. Congress, which controlled the VA’s budget and had repeatedly
directed the VA to examine commercially available vendor HISs, mandated (as it
also did for the DoD TRIMIS program) that the VA procure, install, and assess three
competing commercial HISs and compare their effectiveness for the VA DHCP. In
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 471
costs were estimated at about $930 million for six Core modules plus eight
Enhanced Modules [105]. Since the VA Decentralized Hospital Computer Program
was not yet an integrated system, but was rather a series of interfaced applications,
the OTA report addressed its capability to integrate patient data entered and
retrieved from the various system modules, a critical requirement of any MIS. A
shortcoming observed in DHCP was the order entry/result reporting function that
was inherently difficult to operate due to the separate development of the pharmacy,
laboratory, and dietetics modules used on the nursing wards [105]. Andrews and
Beauchamp [3] described the development of a pilot integrated uniform database
(UDB) to extract patient data from the separate laboratory, pharmacy, and radiol-
ogy databases installed at the Sioux Falls, South Dakota, VAMC. They found it
difficult to integrate information across the modules, so they wrote a new set of
programs, the clinical database management system (CDMS) that supported the
UDB; and was used to assist most clinical functions. While the file structures were
created and maintained with FileMan, the CDMS provided utilities for queries,
reporting, entry, and translation of data from ancillary packages into the UDB, and
provided some decision support. By the end of 1989 the DHCP contained clinical
management packages for inpatient and outpatient pharmacy, clinical laboratory,
radiology, anatomic pathology, blood bank, dietetics, medicine, surgery, oncology,
nursing, mental health, dentistry, social work, quality assurance and utilization
review, order entry, and results reporting. A health summary served as the begin-
ning of a computer-based patient record that integrated clinical data from ancillary
support packages into patient health summaries for viewing by clinicians on dis-
play terminals or as printed reports. VA admission, discharge, and transfer (ADT)
module functioned as the focal point in the collection of patient information for
DHCP to encompass demographic, employment, insurance, and medical history
data; and was used by other DHCP subsystems including laboratory, pharmacy,
radiology, and dietetics [35]. The decentralized nature of the VA DHCP program
was clearly shown in its November 1989 report, which detailed the responsibilities
of each of the VDCs, now called Information Systems Centers (ISCs): (1) The
Albany ISC was responsible for the radiology, ADT, medical administration, and
outpatient-scheduling and record-tracking packages; (2) Birmingham ISC for phar-
macy, surgery, and social work; (3) Hines ISC for dietetics, nursing, and quality-
assurance; (4) Salt Lake City ISC for laboratory, pathology, mental health, order
entry and results reporting, and health summary; (5) San Francisco ISC for the
Kernel FileMan; and (6) Washington, DC, for oncology, medicine, dentistry,
library, and MailMan, in addition to Integrated-Funds Control, Accounting, and
Procurement (IFCAP) [35].
In 1988 DoD awarded a contract to Science Applications International
Corporation (SAIC) of San Diego, California, to implement DoD’s Composite
Health Care System (CHCS) with a MUMPS-based system derived from the VA
DHCP experience [98]. At the end of 1989, the VA decided to award a contract for
$52 million to SAIC to install health information systems at three of its medical
centers [97].
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 473
The Department of Defense (DoD) oversees a large health care delivery system with
many and varied facilities that are managed and operated by the three armed ser-
vices: the Army, Navy, and the Air Force. DoD provides a full spectrum of clinical
and hospital services throughout the world to active-duty and retired military mem-
bers and their eligible dependents, while it maintains a constant state of readiness to
support the national defense. In the 1970s within the continental United States,
there were nearly one million hospital admissions and about 35 million outpatient
visits annually. Military medical facilities within the continental United States then
numbered 126 hospitals; the 4 largest had up to 1,000 beds. All medical facilities
had extensive outpatient services, with the largest having two million patient visits
per year; and there also were several hundred free-standing clinics.
In 1959 the U.S. Air Force Research and Development Command at Andrews
Air Force Base undertook with the Lovelace Foundation the development of a data-
base on punched cards for the Air Force’s Man in Space program. Data from a fairly
comprehensive medical examination were recorded on mark-sense cards. The decks
of cards were transferred to an IBM facility at Kirtland Air Force Base, where the
data were assembled and were used to select candidates for the National Aeronautics
and Space Administration (NASA) program [115]. In 1968 the Secretary of Defense
directed that studies be made to determine the feasibility of improving health care
delivery within DoD through the use of automated data processing. The period dur-
ing the late 1960s and early 1970s also saw independent development efforts within
each of the three armed services. In the late 1960s, with the Air Force as lead ser-
vice, DoD undertook a project with A.D. Little, Inc. that resulted in a nine-volume,
Systems Analysis for a New Generation of Military Hospitals [86]. Its aim was to
use computers to improve patient care and to help to control resource consumption
with a prototype hospital; but this hospital was never built [4]. In 1971 Craemer
initiated service with an outpatient information system (OIS) at the U.S. Naval Air
Station Dispensary in Brunswick, Maine, a primary care clinic that served about
15,000 active-duty and retired Navy personnel and their dependents (about 20,000
visits a year). Physicians dictated their patient care notes, and the full text was
entered by transcriptionists using display terminal keyboards. The patients’ medical
complaints and diagnoses were coded, and then were stored by keyboard entry.
Laboratory findings were entered by the clinical laboratory. Computer services
were provided by a commercial vendor located about 130 miles away. The medical
record available during a patient’s visit was a computer-generated abstract that con-
tained a limited amount of essential medical data. During the visit, more medical
record data could be obtained, if needed, within a few seconds from the terminal on
an online basis [64].
In 1973 the Defense Systems Acquisition Review Council (DSARC), with the
concurrence of the three Surgeons General, recommended that the automated infor-
mation systems development efforts of the three military departments be combined
474 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
into a single tri-service program. In July 1974 the Deputy Secretary of Defense
established the Tri-Service Medical Information Systems (TRIMIS) Program [15].
The mission of TRIMIS was defined as to: (1) Improve the effectiveness and econ-
omy of health care delivery administered by the Military Departments, through the
application of standardized automatic data processing (ADP) techniques to health
care information systems; (2) Centralize and coordinate the application of existing
technology and the development of standardized automated systems to meet the
Tri-Service functional requirements in the medical area; (3) Adapt advanced data
automation technology to health care delivery, and streamline, modernize, and stan-
dardize DoD medical information systems [127]. Initially the TRIMIS requirements
and direction were provided by the three Surgeons General. However, in June 1976
the TRIMIS Program Office (TPO) was formed, and its direct management was
taken over by the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Health Affairs. Responsible for
planning, budgeting, and managing program activities, the TPO focused its activi-
ties on achieving three related objectives: functional (work-center) applications to
improve patient care; resources to improve management applications; and integra-
tion of functional and management applications into an overall replicable system to
be applied first for a single hospital, and then for successively larger entities. The
TPO centrally funded all tri-service systems and provided coordination and direc-
tion for the program. The Assistant Secretary of Defense for Health Affairs man-
aged the TRIMIS program with the advice and guidance of the TRIMIS Steering
Group. In addition to the three Surgeons General, this group included the Principal
Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Health Affairs as Chair, the President of
the Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences, and representatives of the
VA and HEW. In addition, three defined critical milestones in the procurement and
diffusion of TRIMIS systems had to be reviewed and approved by the Major
Automated Information Systems Review Council (MAISRC), which consisted of
the Assistant Secretary of Defense Comptroller as Chair, the Assistant Secretary of
Defense for Manpower, the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Health Affairs, and
the Assistant Secretary of Defense for Command, Control, Communications, and
Intelligence.
A TRIMIS Peer Review Group was assembled in 1978. An interdisciplinary
body of nationally known experts from outside the Government, the group reviewed
various aspects of the TRIMIS Program several times a year and provided their
assessment of the Program’s progress and activities to the Assistant Secretary of
Defense for Health Affairs [14]. Managed in the late 1970s by Roberts of Medical
Systems Technical Services, Inc., under contract with the National Bureau of
Standards, throughout the 1980s, the group was managed by Simpkins of Battelle
Laboratories through a contract with the TPO. Collen (Director, Division of
Research, Northern California Kaiser Permanente), Cunningham (formerly Chief,
ADP Management Branch, ODP), Dammkoehler (Department of Computer
Sciences, Washington University), and McDonald (Chief Scientist, Missile System
Division, Rockwell International Corporation) were continuing members of this
Peer Review Group from 1978 to 1989. Other members who participated in the Peer
Review Group in the later 1970s, included Cox (Washington University), Lindberg
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 475
One of the earliest TPO cost-benefit analyses was reported in 1978 for a Tri-
Service Wards and Clinics Support module implemented as a part of the early
CHS. It compared the automated system’s costs and benefits to the traditional man-
ual alternative in three medical treatment facility sites: the Naval Regional Medical
Center, Jacksonville, Florida; the U.S. Air Force Regional Hospital, Eglin AFB,
Florida; and the Dwight David Eisenhower Army Medical Center, Ft. Gordon,
Georgia. Based on actual 1977 data from these three sites viewed as a single regional
system, the total (11 years, discounted) cost for the TRIMIS system was 0.5 % less
than for the manual system. The following were identified as quantified advantages
of implementing the TRIMIS system in the hospital and clinics: reduction in the
cost of patient services, notably of redundant or unnecessary services delivered to
the wrong location or after the patient had left; reduction of clerical support required;
improvement of outpatient pharmacy management and control; reduction in admin-
istrative supplies costs; and relief from an excessive clerical workload burden on
military health care providers in reduction in patient non-effective time and time
away from active duty. Unquantifiable benefits attributed to TRIMIS were improve-
ments in the quality of information associated with patient care through more thor-
ough accumulation, systematic organization, and accurate transmission. TRIMIS
reduced the interval required to transmit information on admission, patient status,
physicians’ orders, diagnostic results, and supportive services throughout the medi-
cal treatment facility; and improved the accuracy of information by providing sys-
tem edits that reduced the number of opportunities for error and the automatic
transmission of multiple errors. By capturing data at their source, TRIMIS improved
resource utilization, collected data for research and peer review activities, and sup-
ported consistent and reliable patient care planning and its documentation for the
medical record [127].
By 1979 TRIMIS had made considerable progress with the procurement and
installation of its phase I nonintegrated modules. In that year, the program provided
full funding and management-support coordination for a number of existing opera-
tional, interim, and pilot systems. These included the following:
• Clinical Laboratory (AFCLAS/TRILAB and LABIS) systems at USAF Medical
Center, Wright-Patterson AFB, Ohio; Malcolm Grow USAF Medical Center,
Andrews AFB, Maryland; and the National Naval Medical Center, Bethesda,
Maryland.
• Pharmacy (PROHECA/Data Stat) pilot systems at the Naval Regional Center,
Charleston, South Carolina; Naval Hospital, Beaufort, South Carolina; USAF
Clinic, Charleston AFB, South Carolina; Naval Weapons Station Clinic,
Charleston, South Carolina; Outpatient Clinic, Charleston Naval Base, South
Carolina; USAF Regional Hospital Shaw, Shaw AFB, South Carolina; and
Dwight David Eisenhower Medical Center, Augusta, Georgia.
• A Tri-Service Formulary at Health Services Command, San Antonio, Texas, that
supported 77 health care facilities.
• A Medical Administrative Management System at USAF Regional Hospital,
McDill AFB, Florida; USAF Medical Center, Wright-Patterson AFB, Ohio;
Wilford Hall USAF Medical Center and Lackland AFB, Texas.
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 477
comprehensive, fully integrated system, now called the Composite Health Care
System (CHCS).
In 1980 the U.S. Congress directed the DoD to install and assess two or three
competing commercial HISs, as it had for the VA. As a result, in 1982 DoD awarded
three separate contracts to two vendors: Technicon Data Systems to install its system
in the William Beaumont Army Medical Center at Fort Bliss, Texas, and Martin
Marietta Data Systems to install its system in the Naval Regional Medical Center at
Jacksonville, Florida, and in the U.S. Air Force Regional Hospital at Eglin Air Force
Base in Fort Walton Beach, Florida. Using a phased approach, the plans selected by
the Air Force and the Naval facilities consisted of initially bringing the registration,
admission, disposition, and transfer module online [67]. This was to be followed by
outpatient appointment scheduling and order entry and results reporting for phar-
macy, laboratory, and radiology, with inpatient applications to be implemented last.
In 1981 A.D. Little, Inc. was awarded a contract to evaluate the TRIMIS IOC
systems and to provide information needed for the decision regarding further sys-
tem proliferation. Based on evaluations already completed, A.D. Little’s project
director, Drazen, estimated that the annual benefits of automated information sys-
tems in DoD medical treatment facilities would be derived from the following: 31
% from increased service capacity resulting from more effective utilization of the
DoD health care system due to fewer repeat clinic visits because of missing labora-
tory tests, and a reduced length of hospital stay from more timely test reporting and
earlier initiation of treatment; 28 % from increased availability of time on the part
of the health care provider from less time spent in searching for charts and test
results; 15 % increased availability in staff time due to less clerical time spent in
scheduling, registering, and maintaining records; 15 % from improved patient
health status from better review of care plans and treatments and automated moni-
toring of adverse drug reactions; 7 % increase in availability of effective time of
military personnel due to less of their time being spent in obtaining needed office
visits; and 4 % in other savings [37].
Because of its concerns about the possible duplication of effort between the DoD
and the VA, Congress directed DoD to test the feasibility of using the VA Decentralized
Hospital Computer Program (DHCP) software [26]. The MITRE Corporation had in
1984 completed an assessment of the VA DHCP’s ability at that date to satisfy the
functional requirements of the DoD’s CHCS; and it reported that the TRIMIS func-
tionality demonstrated by the VA system was adequate for the CHCS [96]. Tests
were carried out using the VA DHCP software at March Air Force Base in Riverside,
California, and at Fitzsimmons Army Medical center in Aurora, Colorado, to test the
feasibility and cost-effectiveness of the VA DHCP in DoD MTFs. To determine the
cost and level of effort required to meet the Composite Health Care System (CHCS)
requirements using DHCP as a baseline [93]. Some evaluation results were reported,
such as the early findings from A. D. Little on the VA Patient Appointment and
Scheduling (PAS) module of the DHCP at March Air Force Base that had been cho-
sen because of the high priority placed on this application by its hospital commander.
The VA PAS was readily modified to meet the requirements of March Air Force
Base; its users were generally pleased with the system [50].
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 479
In 1984 to accomplish a more complete integration of all the military MISs, the
Assistant Secretary of Defense for Health Affairs established the Defense Medical
Systems Support Center (DMSSC) composed of six program offices: TRIMIS and
Hospital Systems; Defense Enrollment Eligibility Reporting System (DEERS);
Medical Readiness and Theater Systems; Management Information Systems;
Architecture, Communications and Technology; and Quality Engineering.
Mestrovich, who had headed DEERS, was appointed the first director of DMSCC. In
1984 the experience gained from these assessments became the basis for the specific
requirements developed for the Composite Health Care System (CHCS). In May
1985 the TPO released to commercial vendors a Request for Proposals (RFP) for
the design, development, deployment, and maintenance of the CHCS. Detailed and
comprehensive as to functional and operational requirements, the RFP kept techni-
cal specifications to a minimum to encourage competing vendors to use products
they had already developed. The RFP specified that CHCS should support the full
set of CHCS system capabilities for eight functional areas: patient administration
(PAD), patient appointment and scheduling (PAS), laboratory, radiology, pharmacy,
nursing support, clinical dietetics, and health care provider support. Detailed func-
tional requirements for each of these areas were presented as appendices. The RFP
further specified that the CHCS contractor should provide a Data Base Management
System (DBMS) as the primary vehicle through which the CHCS database would
be constructed, accessed, and maintained. The DBMS requirements for CHCS fell
into seven major functional areas: general DBMS requirements, integrated data dic-
tionary, data base management, data query and data transactions, report generator,
DBMS backup and recovery, and data base utilities. TPO recognized the need for
requiring a capability for maintaining the logical integrity of the data base [130]. It
was also required that users of the DBMS had online access to their Integrated Data
Dictionary, which was to have a set of basic characteristics that included unique
identifiers, physical characteristics, and textual information for each data element;
showed the relationships between elements; contained the official external name
and acceptable synonyms for each data element, the type of units to be used for the
data items (for example, degrees Celsius, milligrams); and the rules or algorithms to
be used by the DBMS for data elements which were computed from the values of
other data elements (for example, body surface area). An English-like query lan-
guage was to be a highly supportive interactive display of the data dictionary, with
prompts, HELP messages, query and modification status displays. The Report
Generator was to have the capability of generating low-resolution simple graphic
outputs such as scatter plots, histograms and pie charts; for data security, it required
the capability to record the name of the user, the identification of the actual device
used, and the dates and times of log-in and subsequent log-off. The CHCS System
Manager was to have the capability to prevent dial-in access to CHCS without the
System Manager’s approval for each dial-in session. The RFP required that CHCS
have the ability to communicate with other external support services, including the
Tri-Service Food and Tri-Service Logistics systems; and it specified that the CHCS
Contractor should utilize the Reference Model for Open Systems Interconnections
(OSI) developed by the International Standards Organization for these interfaces. It
480 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
also required an interface with DEERS that provided the basic eligibility informa-
tion on all DoD personnel. The RFP furthermore specified that the contractor should
provide initial and follow-up training programs specific to military treatment facil-
ity users that included supervisors, professionals, and clerks and administrative per-
sonnel [130].
Earlier the TRIMIS Program Office had developed a statement that described the
requirements for a Computerized Medical Record Information System (CMRIS) for
both hospital and outpatient care, since the TPO had expressed the need that readily
accessible patient medical information was necessary to provide the military health
care provider with accurate, timely, legible, and well-organized medical informa-
tion to support the patient’s treatment and follow-up care. Thus the CMRIS RFP
required that the automated comprehensive medical record (inpatient and outpatient
data) would be a component part of the Composite Health Care System (CHCS)
database so that required data could be transmitted automatically [129, 130]. As a
part of the CMRIS project and to obtain some experience with other computer-
based patient records, the Computer-Stored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) was
installed in 1981 in the Family Practice Clinic in the Silas B. Hays Army Community
Hospital at Ford Ord, California, [103] and also in the Family Practice and Primary
Care clinics at the USAF Hospital Pease at Pease Air Force Base, New Hampshire,
that used the time-sharing capabilities from G. Barnett’s Laboratory of Computer
Science at the Massachusetts General Hospital [38]. Because the Brooks
Congressional Committee considered the computer-based patient record and the
health care provider functional requirements as “gold-plated” enhancements of
CHCS, both of these requirements were removed from the 1984 RFP; and a second
RFP for CHCS was released in March 1987. Even at the end of the 1980s, however,
CHCS had not yet planned to provide an integrated, computer-based medical record,
nor did it satisfy such functional requirements of the health care professional as the
inclusion of patients’ medical histories, physicians’ physical examination findings,
or consultation reports. These functions were to await a later phase of CHCS
enhancements in the 1990s.
In September 1986 a stage I, cost-plus-fixed-fee contract was awarded to four
contractors: TDS Healthcare Systems Corporation (formerly Technicon Data
Systems), McDonnell-Douglas Health Information Systems, Science Applications
International Corporation (SAIC), and Baxter International, Inc. The contracts
specified that each was to develop a proposal to meet the functional and technical
requirements of CHCS. Since a system design was not specified in the contract, the
vendors were allowed considerable flexibility in this regard, but TDS Healthcare
Systems soon withdrew from this contest. Following extensive tests, demonstra-
tions, and evaluations, DoD conducted a complex, competitive bidding process
among the remaining vendors. In March 1988 the Milestone II review was completed
that authorized proceeding with the installation of CHCS in selected sites; and DoD
awarded a stage II fixed-price contract in the amount of about $1.1 billion to SAIC
for the development and deployment of CHCS. The report of the Source Selection
Evaluation Board concluded that SAIC was clearly superior to its competitors: it
developed more health care functionality, offered the only completely integrated
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 481
system, received slightly better ratings than its nearest competitor in management,
and slightly lower ratings than the highest-rated competitor in deployment. In addi-
tion its system cost was significantly less than the nearest competitor’s system. The
U.S. General Accounting Office (GAO) published a report that called the selection
process results fair and reasonable [48].
An employee-owned company in San Diego, Science Applications International
Corporation (SAIC) used a major software contractor, Di-Star, whose founders had
helped develop the MUMPS-based VA DHCP [70]. MUMPS users were delighted
with the selection of SAIC and its proposed MUMPS-based CHCS, and published
an announcement that DOD had awarded to SAIC a $1 billion, 8-year contract for a
MUMPS-based integrated hospital information system. SAIC’s major subcontrac-
tor for most of the CHCS hardware components was Digital Equipment Corporation
(DEC). The selected CHCS architecture was to be decentralized at the hospital
level, with a mainframe computer in each hospital linked to its associated clinics
with a communications network. Independent clinics that were separate from hos-
pitals were to receive their own mainframe computer. All software was to be written
in ANSI-standard MUMPS. The database manager was FILEMAN, an updated ver-
sion of the VA’s FileMan. A comprehensive data dictionary, SCREENMAN, pro-
vided a standard terminal-display presentation and editing tool. TASKMAN allowed
control over the timing and priority of both interactive and batch processes.
MAILMAN provided electronic mail to all users.
Mestrovich [93] described the planned operational features of CHCS in 1988.
The CHCS would provide the health care providers with patient care data through
integration with the functional work centers of clinical dietetics, laboratory, nursing,
patient administration, patient appointment and scheduling, pharmacy, and radiol-
ogy. It would assist health care professionals by providing support to the entry of
orders and the reporting of results, and support administration in quality assurance,
management of resources, mobilization, and mass casualty operations. CHCS
would also provide interfaces to other TRIMIS and DoD activities such as the
Medical Expense and Performance Reporting System (MEPRS), DEERS, food ser-
vice, medical logistics, service-specific administrative systems, tactical automation
systems, national disaster medical system, and the VA systems. CHCS would pro-
vide support to military hospitals, clinics, dental clinics, and Service schools
throughout the world. Eventually 14 sites were selected for Stage II CHCS beta
testing: the Bethesda, Camp Lejuene, Charleston, and Jacksonville Naval hospitals;
the Carswell, Eglin, Keesler, Shaw, and Shepard Air Force hospitals; and the
Eisenhower, Ireland, Nuernberg, Tripler, and Walter Reed Army hospitals. By the
end of 1989 DoD had ten operational CHCS beta test sites; and deployment activi-
ties were under way at four additional sites for operational testing and evaluation
[2]. Most of the stand-alone IOC modules were expected to be replaced in the early
1990s by CHCS installations.
Following full deployment, the annual operating cost of CHCS in 167 military
hospitals and 583 clinics worldwide was estimated at $108 million [93]. This level of
expenditure obviously called for appropriate cost-benefit evaluations. The TPO pre-
pared a two-stage Test and Evaluation Master Plan (TEMP) to review and monitor in
482 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
selected sites the extent to which the installed CHCS fulfilled its specified functional
and technical requirements. The first stage included pre-installation and acceptance
testing to see whether the contractor’s system met the functional and technical
requirements prior to the system deployment. The initial alpha testing of CHCS soft-
ware was conducted at Ireland Army Community Hospital in Fort Knox, Kentucky,
and at Tripler Army Medical Center in Hawaii, after which the approved software
was released to beta test sites. The second stage included installation and acceptance
testing of the CHCS at each beta site. Data collection at the beta sites began at the
end of 1988, and analysis and reporting of evaluation results of CHCS to be com-
pleted by Milestone III in the early 1990s, at which time worldwide deployment
would be authorized. The A. D. Little group obtained a contract to provide a CHCS
benefits assessment that used a list of 168 pre-specified measures and indicators as
evidence of obtained benefits. Data that measured these indicators of potential ben-
efits were to be collected at the beta sites (and also at matched non-automated control
sites) prior to the implementation of CHCS (so-called “period X”) and scheduled for
release in 1990. These period X data then would be compared to data collected for
these same indicators after each CHCS site became operational (in “period Y”) in the
1990s [87]. The TPO was especially interested in the determination of any signifi-
cant changes in the quality of health care services following the introduction of
CHCS. The system would be assessed in regard to whether it effectively performed
all the required functions in typical DoD medical treatment facilities; whether the
process of delivering health care services became more efficient after the CHCS was
introduced; whether the system was easy to use; whether it was flexible enough to
handle future workload expansion and technological developments; whether the
training procedures were adequate; whether the system provided the required secu-
rity, confidentiality and data integrity without constraining legitimate authorized
access; and whether the system exhibited in the operational environment, the desired
reliability, availability, restorability and safety characteristics [128].
In the 1970s and 1980s the TRIMIS Program Office provided an instructive model
for the development of a very large MHIS. The TPO first developed detailed func-
tional requirements by user committees. It then procured, tested, and evaluated ven-
dor-supplied, prototype, stand-alone modules for all major functional departments.
Following this, it revised its functional requirements and technical specifications for
integrating all modules into one CHCS. Finally, after competitive bidding, it con-
tracted for a phased-in procurement and installation of CHCS in all of DoD’s world-
wide military medical facilities. DoD also contracted for and completed an independent
cost-benefit evaluation of CHCS. Despite its shortcomings, by the end of the 1980s,
DoD’s CHCS represented the largest and most comprehensive MHIS in the world.
Mental health information systems was the term used by Hedlund [61] at the
University of Missouri-Columbia in a review of computers in mental health hospi-
tals. Such systems attempted to integrate information about mental health care from
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 483
the need for human raters, and provided a comprehensive and reliable method for
acquiring data directly from patients. He proposed that for a community mental
health center, an independent automated data-acquisition and follow-up system
could be operated by community volunteers or other nonprofessionals. Such a sys-
tem could produce printouts of comprehensive intake and follow-up evaluations,
and provide a coordinated identification and tracking system utilizing a uniform
data-acquisition and follow-up system for all county agencies. The results of a 1978
survey of the directors of 149 community mental health centers indicated that there
was then a moderate use of computers, primarily in administrative areas; three-
fourths of the centers had computer applications for financial procedures and for
external reporting to accountability sources; and some automation had been applied
to client monitoring and to program evaluation [49].
As a centralized approach to support computer applications in community men-
tal health centers, the NIMH designed a prototype minicomputer-based manage-
ment information system for such centers. The NIMH system comprised seven
subsystems. The first was the Service/Activity Event Monitoring Subsystem which
collected, organized, and reported data related to the services provided and the
activities performed by community mental health center personnel [134]. The sec-
ond subsystem provided patient demographics and case-manager caseloads. The
remaining subsystems were for accounts receivable and billing, cost finding, gen-
eral accounting, payroll/personnel reporting, and statistical analysis. Hedlund
expressed hope that community mental health centers had the potential of improv-
ing direct patient care [58, 62].
In the 1950s users of commercial mainframe computers began to explore the capa-
bilities of vendors’ time-sharing computers for data processing in hospitals; and in
the 1960s some hospitals began to use commercial time-sharing computer systems.
In 1961 the Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis established a centralized admin-
istration for their 12 health care institutions that included ten general hospitals, a
continuing care center, and a geriatric care unit, located in Illinois, Michigan, and
Iowa. In 1961 a group headed by Huff [68] initiated time-shared services in their
hospital in Peoria, Illinois; and over the next few years expanded the computing
services to all their facilities. By the end of 1963 their multi-hospital information
system provided centralized payroll services, accounts payable, general ledger,
financial reporting, accounts receivable, and inpatient billing. In 1970 they were
acquired by the McDonnell-Douglas Automation Company (MCAUTO) of St.
Louis, and became the Health Services Division of MCAUTO.
In 1964 the Information Systems Division of the Lockheed Missiles and Space
Company in Sunnyvale, California, began to apply their aerospace expertise to
develop a Lockheed Hospital Information System. In 1969 the Lockheed manage-
ment decided to develop its Lockheed HIS in the El Camino Hospital in Mountain
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 487
View, California, a 464 bed, general community hospital with a medical staff of 340
physicians [44, 45]. In l97l Lockheed sold its system to the Technicon Corporation,
which had come to dominate automation in the clinical laboratory; its new owner,
Whitehead, saw an opportunity to extend computer automation from the clinical
laboratory into the entire hospital information system by developing its Technicon
Medical Information System (MIS). In March 1971 the El Camino Hospital signed
a contract for the installation of the Technicon MIS, that operated on an IBM
370/155 time-shared computer located in Technicon’s Mountain View offices [116].
In 1972 the Technicon MIS was installed at the Ralph E. Davies Medical Center in
San Francisco that operated off of the Technicon regional time-sharing computer
center. In 1973 the first in-hospital computer installation was implemented at the
Nebraska Methodist Hospital in Omaha. The next two systems Technicon installed
ran from the company’s second regional center in Fairfield, New Jersey; one was at
St. Barnabas Hospital in Livingston, New Jersey, the other at the Maine Medical
Center in Portland. In 1975 Technicon installed its system at the Clinical Center of
the National Institutes of Health. Initially operated from a time-shared computer at
the Technicon Fairfield Center, it was later transferred to the NIH computer facility
in Bethesda, Maryland. The El Camino Hospital continued through the 1980s to
operate with a time-shared computer.
In 1980 the Technicon Data Systems Corporation (TDS) was acquired by
Revlon, Inc. In 1986 it was repurchased by a new company called TDS Healthcare
Systems Co., headed by the son of the founder of Technicon; its enhanced TDS
4000 system was announced in 1987 [22]. By 1986 the Technicon Data Systems
(TDS) MIS had been installed in about 40 hospitals [16]; by the end of the 1980s,
85 TDS systems had been installed in the United States, Canada, and the United
Kingdom. These installations included the Clinical Center in the NIH and sites in
major teaching institutions such as New York University, Temple University,
Medical College of Virginia, University of Illinois, Loyola, University of Chicago,
Baylor University, and University of California at Irvine [66]. The Lockheed HIS
that was initiated in 1966 became the Technicon MIS in 1971, and then the TDS. It
was probably one of the best commercially developed HIS in the United States
throughout the 1970s and 1980s, although it had deficiencies, such as a discontinu-
ous patient record that did not integrate patient data collected over multiple admis-
sions, and it did not allow for an office information system. By the end of the 1980s
enhancements had been added to the TDS 4000 system that partially corrected
these deficiencies by an expanded electronic patient record (EPR) with linkages of
the hospital system and to attending physicians’ offices. In 1986 Technicon TDS
was sold to Revlon; and it became Allscripts. In 2008 Allscripts acquired several
health care information system vendors and became a major vendor for electronic
health record (EHR) systems.
In 1965 a survey of computer-based information systems in medicine by
Summerfield and Empey [124] at Systems Development Corporation (SDC) in
Santa Monica, California, listed 73 ongoing projects developing hospital informa-
tion systems or subsystems. In a review of commercial HIS vendors in the 1960s,
Jacobs [72] noted that it was not until the mid-1960s that vendors began to take
488 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
notice of the potential of the hospital data processing market. In 1966 Honeywell
announced the availability of a business and financial package, acquired from Blue
Cross of Minnesota, for a shared hospital data processing center. International
Business Machines (IBM) followed in the next year with Shared Hospital Accounting
System (SHAS). Lockheed and National Data Communications, Inc. (then known
as REACH, Inc.) began the development of HISs to be offered to hospitals on a
turnkey basis. In the late 1960s MEDELCO, Inc. brought a simplified HIS to the
market that met with some success.
In 1968 Thompson in the Department of Health Services in Los Angeles County,
California, operated a large countywide system with terminals at 48 different sites
that provided patient identification data, clinic registration and appointment sched-
uling with a limited amount of clinical information for about 550,000 patient visits
a year. Thompson also operated at the East Los Angeles Child and Youth Clinic,
California, a Los Angeles County-supported clinic that collected patient data on
paper forms, coded the data by a medical technician, and entered the data by key-
punch off-line batch processing to provide a supplement to the paper-based medical
record for about 10,000 patients [64]. In 1969 a centralized information system for
nine Los Angeles County Hospitals was initiated using an IBM 360/40 computer
connected by telephone cable to remote display terminals and printers, located ini-
tially in the admitting offices and pharmacies, and then to a centralized patient
records database, it soon added order entry of medications, diets, and laboratory
tests [113].
In 1968 a survey conducted for the National Center for Health Services Research
and Development (NCHSR&D) reported that in the United States about half of the
1,200 hospitals with more than 200 beds used computers for some business func-
tions, but only about 15 % of these had some operational medical or medical
research computing applications. For 248 respondents who used computer manu-
facturers for advice or assistance in the development of their hospital computer
activity, the following vendors and the number of systems they had installed were
listed as IBM 168, National Cash Register 37, Honeywell 19, Burroughs 10,
UNIVAC 10, General Electric two, RCA one, and unspecified one [65]. An Arthur
Young & Co. report identified four well-known, large, time-sharing HISs capable of
servicing several hospitals in the 1960s [117]. The Medi-Data system, formed by a
group of four hospitals in North and South Carolina, shared a common data
processing center using Burroughs computers [6]. In an attempt to maintain low
operational costs, Medi-Data avoided the use of real-time processing and provided
all output reports on a regularly scheduled basis; its terminals were designed for use
by clerks rather than by health professionals. The Medinet system, based on General
Electric (GE) equipment, was used in a number of hospitals in the New England
area. The MISs Program (MISP) used a number of programs developed at teaching
hospitals supported by research grants, and was designed for the IBM 360 series of
computers. Fourth was the Technicon HIS which also used IBM equipment. By the
end of the 1960s a number of commercial HISs were competing for what was her-
alded as a potentially great market.
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 489
In the early 1970s a series of reviews [6, 8, 9] reported on the status of vendor
HISs and added the following as offering systems that attempted to meet the needs
for comprehensive services: Biomedical Computer Services, which focused on the
medical record, and used a variety of computers linked to touch-screen terminals;
Control Data Corporation (CDC); MEDICOM, which used CDC computers con-
nected to CDC touch-screen terminals; Medelco’s Total HIS (T.H.I.S.), which used
prepunched cards for each order, service, or product available in the hospital and
read into a hard-wired, pre-programmed machine; McDonnell-Douglas Automation
Company (MCAUTO), which in 1970 acquired the HIS of the Sisters of the Third
Order of St. Francis; Medical Information Technology, Inc. (Meditech), which orig-
inated with the MUMPS founder Pappalardo, and initially used DEC or Data
General minicomputers with display terminals and their own software developed
for a relatively comprehensive integrated HIS; National Data Communications,
whose Real-Time Electronic Access Communications for Hospitals (REACH)
System used Honeywell and other computers connected to Raytheon cathode ray
tube (CRT) display terminals with 20 selector push buttons located along the left
side of the display for order entry and routine tasks; and a keyboard for entering
textual data; Searle’s Medidata System, with touch terminals that used sets of over-
lays (for example, one for laboratory, another for pharmacy, and so on), each of
which presented 320 order choices in addition to display terminals with keyboards
for entry of text. However, Searle offered Medidata for only a few years when it was
taken over by Mediquip, a subsidiary of Quanta System Corporation and Spectra
Medical Systems, which used a Data General Nova minicomputer connected to
color display terminals with keyboards and light-pen selectors designed for data
entry by physicians. In 1974 Huff and associates, who had developed the system at
the Sisters of the Third Order of St. Francis Hospital acquired by MCAUTO, left
MCAUTO and formed HBO and Co. [73]. In 1975 the company unveiled a new
second-generation level-1 system, MEDPRO, which used modern cathode ray tube
(CRT) order-entry terminals [7].
Until the mid-1970s the majority of hospitals subscribed to out-of-hospital,
shared computing services [11]. In the mid-1970s lower-cost minicomputers intro-
duced the capabilities of locating small, special purpose computers in various
departments, all linked to one or more central, large mainframe computers. Ball
[10] considered this distributed approach to functionally oriented HISs a major
change in their development. The use of minicomputers in subsystems such as
laboratory and pharmacy expanded the concept of a HIS into a network of interre-
lated, modular, functional processing systems. In the mid-1970s a survey of com-
puter applications in approximately 100 hospitals in the United States reported that
only about one-third had clinical laboratory or other patient care applications [120].
In 1976 a Spectra 2000 system for 800 beds was installed at Rush-Presbyterian-St.
Luke’s Medical Center in Chicago; in 1980 it was replaced by a Spectra 3000 sys-
tem that was linked to minicomputers and used visual display terminals with light-
pen selectors for users to select items from displayed, predefined data sets.
Physicians entered their orders directly, and a nursing module was well accepted
[109]. In 1976 Bleich, Slack and associates at Beth Israel Hospital in Boston initi-
490 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
ated their HIS. In 1982 they expanded it into the Brigham and Women’s Hospital.
By 1984 it ran on a network of Data General Eclipse minicomputers that supported
300 video-display terminals located throughout the hospital. In 1994 Brigham and
Women’s Hospital joined with Massachusetts General Hospital to form Partners
Health Care System including 10 hospitals and more than 250 practice sites [125].
After reviewing the history of the diffusion of HISs through the early 1970s,
Jacobs [72] concluded that there had been a rapid growth that decade in the number
of hospitals with on-site computers, especially in the larger, general, not-for-profit,
non-governmental hospitals. In a smaller survey of computer applications in
approximately 100 responding U.S. hospitals [120], three-fourths indicated they
had some computer applications for administrative functions, and about one-third
reported clinical laboratory or other patient care applications. Ball [12] and Jacobs
reported that although level-1 HISs, which provided primarily administrative, busi-
ness, and communication applications had begun to be accepted in the second half
of the 1960s, a 1974 survey showed that the majority of hospitals still subscribed to
out-of-hospital shared computing services. However, the percentage of short-term
general hospitals with in-hospital computers had increased from 30 % for small
hospitals to 75 % for hospitals with 500 or more beds. Other surveys of U.S. hospi-
tals found that 80 % in 1975 and 90 % in 1976 used some sort of data processing for
business applications [1].
In 1976 a prototype of IBM’s Patient Care System (PCS) began to be imple-
mented as a joint project with Stead and Hammond’s group at Duke University
Medical Center in Durham, North Carolina. The Duke HIS used an IBM 3033 com-
puter with IBM’s IMS database management system and its terminal handlers [55].
It used IBM 3278 visual displays with light-pen selectors; and its terminals were
available at each nursing station and in each service department. It stored all clinical
information in its database and was interfaced with Duke’s outpatient information
system (OIS) and system known as The Medical Record (TMR). The initial Duke
HIS transmitted its OIS prenatal records to the inpatient obstetrics department when
a woman in labor was admitted [55].
By 1984 the Duke HIS serviced 52 nursing stations containing an aggregate of
1,008 beds, and was linked to 18 service departments and 64 specimen laboratories
[121]. Microcomputers were used as departmental workstations linked to the central
computer. In 1987 the Duke HIS central computer was upgraded to an IBM 3090–
200 computer that serviced 550 display terminals. It used an application generator
program called the Application Development System (ADS), also marketed by
IBM. IBM’s Patient Care System (PCS) was also developed to run under ADS [77].
IBM’s PCS/ADS provided the development-modification tools for any desired mod-
ifications after the delivered applications had been installed and thus served as an
application-enabling system for large mainframe HISs. In 1987 IBM announced its
Patient Care System/ Application Development System (PCS/ADS) was available
as a licensed product for ADS-based application development [63]. Through the
1980s IBM continued to provide most of the mainframe HISs in the United States.
In parallel with the development of the Duke HIS, IBM also began in 1976 to install
its PCS using an IBM 370 computer at Parkland Memorial Hospital in Dallas, Texas,
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 491
where it was called the Parkland Online Information System (POIS), and was under
the direction of Mishelevich and associates; by 1978 a relatively comprehensive
HIS was operational with terminals at all 40 nursing stations [95].
In 1979 McDonnell-Douglas introduced its Patient Care System (PCS), after
having acquired additional modules to provide a fairly comprehensive HIS. In the
mid-1980s it responded with its MCAUTO PCS to requests for proposals from the
Veterans Administration (VA) and the Department of Defense (DoD). In 1979 Fetter
[41] described a Yale University microcomputer-based MIS (medical information
system) using a Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) 16-bit LSI-11 processor,
with computer terminals installed in Yale’s radiology department and clinical
laboratory.
At the end of the 1970s Maturi and DuBois [90] conducted a survey for the
National Center for Health Services Research (NCHSR) of the state of commer-
cially available hospital department information systems (HISs), including their
relationship to hospital-wide communication systems. The department-specific
applications that they reviewed were medical record room functions (tracking
charts, coding diseases, and similar record librarian activities); and also laboratory,
radiology, and pharmacy systems; but they did not include computer-based patient
records or general clinical applications. They reported that the department specific
subsystems were usually acquired by the hospital before a hospital-wide communi-
cation system was in place. However, many department-specific systems soon
became part of a communication network as industry provided expanded interfacing
capabilities, a trend which encouraged distributed systems involving department-
specific and hospital-wide systems. They reported that the major clinical laboratory
vendors at that time were Becton Dickenson, Technicon, Medlab, and Community
Health Computing. The major vendors of radiology systems were Siemens and
General Electric; and of pharmacy systems were Becton Dickenson, International
Business Machines, and Shared Medical Systems.
At the end of the 1970s, Young [137] and associates at the University of Southern
California also conducted a survey of minicomputer-based HISs in medium-sized
hospitals with 100–300 beds. They identified 75 different applications that they
grouped into five levels or steps of difficulty in a modular implementation of an
HIS. They found that essentially all had level-1 hospital applications (primarily by
batch processing), which included billing and accounting, payroll, and inpatient
census. Some also had level-2 hospital applications (with limited online data entry),
which included admission-discharge-transfer (ADT), patient record data collection,
patient identification number assignment, general ledger interface, and credit and
collections. Only about one-half of the hospitals had level-3 hospital applications
(using online data entry terminals), which included order entry transmission, mes-
sage communication, patient number retrieval, discharge abstract preparation, and
various inventory applications. Less than one-fourth had level-4 hospital applica-
tions (with most functions automated), which included patient identification number
(ID) assignment, discharge analysis and reports, laboratory worksheets and sched-
ules, budget preparation and expense reports, and labor time collection. Few hospi-
tals in this survey had level-5 hospital applications (with two-way data transmission
492 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
and clinical functions), which included test results reporting, medical chart reports,
personnel history, and utilization review. Young [137] concluded that smaller HISs
with minicomputers fell short of the more sophisticated HISs in larger hospitals
with mainframe computers supporting a variety of patient care applications.
In the late 1970s and early 1980s constant changes occurred in the vendors pro-
viding HISs as increasing competition resulted from the new hardware and software
that evolved in this time period. Among some of the more notable changes were the
following: HBO expanded and acquired new subsystems; Whittaker Corporation’s
MEDICUS, initially organized in 1969, acquired Spectra Medical Systems; Perot’s
Electronic Data Systems (EDS) expanded into the HIS market in 1980; and IBM
offered its new PCS with some applications developed at Duke University Medical
Center and Parkland Memorial Hospital [72]. In the early 1980s federal legislation
gave a major impetus to HISs when Medicare reimbursement policies changed to
require the payments for hospital services to Medicare patients be made on the basis
of classifying patients’ conditions into Diagnostic Related Groups (DRGs). As a
result, every hospital in the United States providing care to Medicare patients
required major changes in its HIS to accommodate these DRG requirements.
In the early 1980s strategies for designing an HIS were sufficiently advanced that
a hospital administrator could select the HIS functional components desired and
refer to the Automated Hospital Information System (AHIS) Component Catalog
developed at the Health Services Research Center of the University of Columbia-
Missouri by Leonard, Goldman, and associates. This document described 112 com-
mercially available components that might be used to design an HIS, and it provided
standardized descriptions of cost and performance of each component [82, 83].
Young [136] published an Automated Hospital Information Systems Workbook in
two volumes: the first was designed to guide the planning, selecting, acquiring,
implementing, and managing a HIS; and the second described 180 available HIS
applications, and the characteristics of 24 HISs available from 22 vendors. In 1980
a survey by Ball and Jacobs [7] found that 18 HIS vendors provided some nursing,
pharmacy, laboratory, and radiology functions. Another survey by Ball and Jacobs
[12] found that 18 vendors offered second-generation, Level-1 HISs (which pro-
vided some nursing, pharmacy, laboratory, x-ray, and medical record-room func-
tions, in addition to business and administrative applications); more than 500 such
systems had been sold as of the spring of 1980. As of that time, eight vendors also
offered Level-2 HISs which also provided a computer-based patient record (CPR)
and supported nursing and clinical applications. In the 1980s local area networks
(LANs) permitted their users with inexpensive microcomputers to integrate their
various individual databases into large, centrally shared databases. Multiple com-
puters in affiliated hospitals began to use communication networks to link their
hospital databases.
In 1981 Grams [52] at the University of Florida initiated a series of annual sur-
veys of HISs in the United States, offering the data collected in 1982 prior to the
imposition of DRGs and the new federal requirements for prepaid medical care as a
reference point for analyzing any new changes or trends in HISs. In the 1982 survey,
37 % of 1,430 responding hospitals reported that they used their own in-house
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 493
1987, an increase of 30 % in 2 years; and that the use of computers in hospitals was
moving from the financial applications to the clinical applications. Dorenfest [36]
also reported that the number of hospitals using computers for other than finance
had risen dramatically as computers moved into patient registration, pharmacy,
nursing, and laboratory; when the manual systems that supported patient care pro-
cesses in the 1960s proved inadequate in the 1980s, there was a huge opportunity to
improve hospital operations through better automation in the 1990s.
By the 1990s most hospitals had a variety of integrated or linked clinical subsys-
tems. In 2010 commercial vendors of the systems reported that Meditech had 1,212
EHR installations, Cerner Corporations 606; McKesson Provider Technologies 573,
Epic Systems 413, Siemens Healthcare 397. In 2014 Epic Systems Corp. was
reported to be the top vendor of complete EHR systems used by physicians and
other professionals who earned Medicare incentive payments for using the technol-
ogy, according to federal data; and Cerner Corp. led among the smaller number of
physicians who used modular EHR systems.
Up to the 1980s, the two largest multi-hospital information systems (MHISs) in the
United States were independently developed: one by the Veterans Administration
(VA) for its hospitals, and the other by the Department of Defense (DoD) for its
hospitals. Both systems were similar in their requirements in that each served more
than 100 hospitals with associated clinics in the continental United States, and both
began to develop their systems in the 1960s. Both ended up with MUMPS-based
software systems; each was operated by a different national governmental agency,
but the multimillion-dollar annual budgets of both were controlled by the
U.S. Congress. There was a difference in design and development taken by these
two systems, in that DoD took a centralized “top-down approach” in which a central
office for the three armed services, the TRIMIS Program Office (TPO), did all the
planning, developed the functional and technical requirements, budgeted for and
procured its hardware and software, and installed and maintained all of its medical
treatment facilities. The VA, on the other hand, took a decentralized “bottom-up
approach,” in that the development of functional and technical requirements, all
software development, installation, and maintenance of all systems were done in the
various VA Medical Centers (VAMCs). The DoD implemented its stages of system
evolution by purchasing vendor turnkey systems, whereas the VA DHCP was pre-
dominately an in-house development. Costs for the DoD system were closely moni-
tored each year. In the VA system, only VA budgeting and hardware procurement
were done centrally; therefore, only the costs for procurement of hardware were
monitored, since most other systems and software costs were absorbed by the local
VAMCs and these costs were not always identified. DoD contracted for independent
evaluation of the effectiveness of achieving its system objectives and of the cost-
effectiveness of system modules, whereas the VA evaluated the effectiveness of
496 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
system modules by its own regional Verification and Development Centers (VDCs),
and it did so primarily for purposes of standardization and transportability. User
satisfaction was variable in the DoD systems, whereas in the VA systems user satis-
faction was generally high wherever the software had been locally developed. These
two examples of MHISs sponsored by the U.S. government were of special interest,
since they demonstrated that, with relatively unlimited resources, huge MHISs
could be implemented successfully using different approaches. Since the SAIC’s
DoD’s CHCS that was installed in all DoD medical centers had some features of the
VA’s DHCP, and since both systems were using similar computers and MUMPS-
based software, some potential benefits were possible if the DoD and VA informa-
tion systems would eventually become interoperable.
By the end of the 1980s, the multi-system information systems had matured such
that the Institute of Medicine decided that a committee should be formed to examine
the impact of this maturing technology on the future of medical care. The report
from this group, The Computer-Based Patient Record: An Essential Technology for
Patient Care, was released in 1991 and re-released in 1997 with an update [32, 33].
Morris Collen was a member of the study and was responsible for the choice of its
title, the computer-based patient record. With the exception of the challenge of man-
aging personal authentication since the use of a unique national personal health
identifier was banned from the USA in the mid-1990s and interoperability among
EHRs, the era of health information technology (HIT) research and development
had largely ended, that is in the context that practical systems for the mass market
were now available and being used in a variety of clinical care settings. Looking
forward, the challenging work that remains relates to informatics versus informa-
tion technology (IT) per se, e.g., the science of the use of information and commu-
nications. Improving user interfaces as well as better natural language processing
remain with us and these are not to be trivialized but some consider these to be
informatics rather than IT challenges. Informatics challenges in terms of better deci-
sion support, system improvements through the use of “big data” analytics, etc.,
gain ever more attention as healthcare budget pressures rise.
As noted earlier, the next two decades saw continued expansion of a few large
MSIS into broader commercial use. Following the federal investment in EHRs
through the HITECH provisions of the Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009, a
few vendors, especially Epic, separated from the pack as industry consolidation
occurred [58].
One could argue that from 2000 through today much of the excitement and con-
tinued development in MSIS have related to communications rather than informa-
tion technology and its impact on care. From the personal digital assistants of the
period from 1999 to the emergence of the iPhone in 2007, linking providers and
other users to EHRs data, especially via secure websites referred to as “patient por-
tals,” has represented the most dramatic leap of technology. Telemedicine that had
required large investments of personnel and equipment by MSISs for image trans-
fers and assured connectivity suddenly began to merge into a routine care dimension
furthered by the arrival of the iPad and other tablets.
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 497
References
1. Abdelhak M, Firouzan PA, Ullman L. Hospital information systems applications and poten-
tial: a literature review revisited, 1982–1992. Top Health Inf Manag. 1993;13:1–14.
2. Andreoni AJ. From the DMSCC directors desk. CHCS Parameters. 1990;1:1.
3. Andrews RD, Beauchamp C. A clinical database management system for improved integra-
tion of the Veterans Affairs Hospital Information System. J Med Syst. 1989;13:309–20.
4. Baker BR. The Tri-Service Medical Information System (TRIMIS) Program: an overview. In:
Emlet HE, editor. Challenges and prospects for advanced medical systems. Miami: Symposia
Specialists; 1978. p. 171–4.
5. Ball M. Integrating information systems in health care. In: Bakker AR et al., editors. Towards
new hospital information systems. Amsterdam: North-Holland; 1988. p. 39–44.
6. Ball MJ. An overview of total medical information systems. Methods Inf Med.
1971;10:73–82.
7. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Information systems: the status of level 1. Hospitals. 1980;54:179–86.
8. Ball MJ, Hammon GL. Overview of computer applications in a variety of health care areas.
CRC Crit Rev Bioeng. 1975;2:183.
9. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE, Colavecchio FR, Potters JR. HIS: a status report. Hosp JAHA.
1972;46:48–52.
10. Ball MJ. Computers-prescription for hospital ills. Datamation. 1975;21:50–1.
11. Ball MJ. Available computer systems. In: Ball MJ, editor. Selecting a computer system for
the clinical laboratory. Springfield: Thomas; 1971. p. 54–73.
12. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Hospital information systems as we enter the decade of the 80’s. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;1:646–50.
13. Bennett WL. A viable computer-based hospital information system. Hosp Manag.
1967;103:43–7.
14. Bickel RG. The TRIMIS concept. Proc SCAMC. 1979;839–42.
498 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
15. Bickel RG. In: Emlet HE, editor. The TRIMIS planning process: decisions, decisions, deci-
sions. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1978. p. 175–81.
16. Blum BI. Clinical information systems. New York: Springer-Verlag; 1986.
17. Brooks J. Congressional memorandum re: Investigation of the TRIMIS Project. Washington,
DC: U.S. Congress; 1979.
18. Brown GA. Patient care information system: a description of its utilization in Alaska. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;2:873–81.
19. Budd PJ. Planning a comprehensive hospital information system. International advanced
symposium on data processing in medicine elsinore, Denmark; 1966.
20. Catellier J, Benway PK, Perez K. Meeting the DHCP challenge: a model for implementing a
Decentralized Hospital Computer Program. Proc SCAMC. 1987:595–8.
21. Chan KA, Platt R. Harvard pilgrim health care/Harvard vanguard medical associates. In:
Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. 3rd ed. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 285–93.
22. Childs BW. TDS is changing to meet the challenges of the future. Healthc Comput Commun.
1987;4:12–3.
23. Christianson LG. Medical data automation in VA. Mil Med. 1964;129:614–7.
24. Christianson LG. Toward an automated hospital information system. Ann N Y Acad Sci.
1969;161:694–706.
25. Coleman JR, Kaminsky FC. A computerized financial planning model for HMOs. In: Hinman
EJ, editor. Advanced medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami: Symposia Specialists; 1977.
p. 187–95.
26. Congress. House Appropriations Committee Report 1986. Washington, DC: U. S.
Congress, 1986.
27. Conklin TJ. A data support system for clinicians. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:913–22.
28. Cope CB. A centralized nation-wide patient data system. In: Acheson ED, editor. Record
linkage in medicine. Edinburgh: E & S Livingstone; 1968. p. 34–8.
29. Curran WJ, Kaplan H, Laska EM, Bank R. Protection of privacy and confidentiality: unique
law protects patient records in a multistate psychiatric information system. Science.
1973;182:797–802.
30. Curtis AC. Portability of large-scale medical information systems: the IHS-VA experience.
Proc MEDINFO. 1986;86:371–3.
31. Denny JC, Ritchie MD, Basford MA, Pulley JM, Bastarache L, et al. PheWAS: demonstrat-
ing the feasibility of a phenome-wide scan to discover gene-disease associations.
Bioinformatics. 2010;26:1205–10.
32. Dick RS, Steen EB, Detmer DE. The computer-based patient record: an essential technology
for health care. Washington, DC: National Academy Press; 1997. Revised Edition.
33. Dick RS, Steen EB, Detmer DE. The computer-based patient record: an essential technology
for health care. Washington, DC: National Academy Press; 1991.
34. DM&S Automated Data Processing (ADP) Plan, Fiscal Years 1984–1989. Washington,
DC: Veterans Administration, Medical Information Services Management Office (MIRMO);
February 1984.
35. DM&S. Decentralized Hospital Computer Program (DHCP). Washington, DC: Veterans
Administration, Medical Information Resources Management Office (MIRMO); 1988.
36. Dorenfest SI. The decade of the 1980’s: large expenditures produce limited progress in hos-
pital automation. US Healthc. 1989;6:20–2.
37. Drazen E, Metzger J, Koran R, Nadell A. Benefits of automation within DoD Hospitals. Proc
SCAMC. 1982;441–4.
38. Ehemann LJ. Computerized medical record information system (CMRIS): COSTAR experi-
ence in USAF Hospital Pease, Pease AFB, New Hampshire. 1st annual TRIMIS program
conference. Bethesda, MD: Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences; 1982.
p. 55–6.
39. Ermann D, Gabel J. Investor-owned multihospital systems: a synthesis of research findings.
In: BH Gray, For-Profit Enterprise in Health Care. Washington, DC: National Academy
Press; 1986. p. 474–91.
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 499
40. Ermann D, Gabel J. Multihospital systems: issues and empirical findings. Health Aff.
1984;3:50–64.
41. Fetter RR, Mills RE. A micro computer based medical information system. Proceedings of
the 2nd annual WAMI meeting. Paris: World Association for Medical Informatics; 1979.
p. 388–91.
42. Frey R, Girardi S, Wiederhold G. A filing system for medical research. Int J Biomed Comput.
1971;2(1):1–26.
43. Friedman RB, MacDonald CJ. A buyer’s guide to microcomputers for the home or the office.
Medcomp. 1983;1:60–71.
44. Gall J. Computerized hospital information system cost-effectiveness: a case study. In: Van
Egmond J, de Vries Robbe PF, Levy AH, editors. Information systems for patient care.
Amsterdam: North Holland; 1976. p. 281–93.
45. Gall J. Cost-benefit analysis: total hospital information systems. In: Koza, editor. Health infor-
mation system evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974.
p. 299–327.
46. Gardner RM, Pryor TA, Warner HR. The HELP hospital information system: update 1998.
Int J Med Inf. 1999;54:169–82.
47. Garratt AE. An information system for ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC. 1979;856–8.
48. General Accounting Office. GAO report: medical ADP systems: composite health care sys-
tems acquisition-fair, reasonable, supported. Gaithersburg, MD: General Accounting
Office; 1988.
49. Giannetti RA, Johnson JH, Williams TA. Computer technology in community mental health
centers: current status and future prospects. Proc SCAMC 1978;117–21.
50. Glaser JP, Coburn MJ. Evaluation of the VA decentralized hospital computer program in a
military hospital. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;430–4.
51. Gluek BC. A psychiatric patient observation system. Proceedings of the 7th IBM medical
symposium; 1965. p. 317–22.
52. Grams RR, Peck GC, Massey JK, Austin JJ. Review of hospital data processing in the United
States (1982–1984). J Med Syst. 1985;9:175–269.
53. Grandia LD, Rosqvist WV. Decentralized information system in a multihospital environ-
ment. Proc SCAMC. 1984;193–6.
54. Hammon GL. Cost allocation and forecasting. In: Bakker AR et al., editors. Towards new
hospital information systems. Amsterdam: North-Holland; 1988. p. 315–9.
55. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. An interface between a hospital information system
and a computerized medical record. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1537–40.
56. Harman CE, Meinhardt K. A computer system for treatment evaluation at the community
mental health center. Am J Public Health. 1972;62:1596–601.
57. Hauser WR. Using the VA’s public domain medical software to meet the needs of health care
providers. MUG Q. 1985;XIV:3–18.
58. Health Information Technology for Economic and Clinical Health (HITECH) Act. American
Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 (ARRA) Pub. L. No. 111-5. 2009.
59. Healy JC, Spackman KA, Beck JR. Small expert systems in clinical pathology: are they use-
ful? Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1989;113:981–3.
60. Hedlund JL, Vieweg BW, Cho D. Mental health information systems. Columbia,
MO: University of Missouri-Columbia: Health Services Research Center; 1979.
61. Hedlund JL. Mental health information systems: some national trends. Proc SCAMC. 1978;
109–16.
62. Hedlund JL, Gorodezky MJ. Recent developments in computer applications in mental health:
discussion and perspective. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:885–95.
63. Helppie R. Superior insight. Comput Healthc. 1987 (March);20.
64. Henley RR, Wiederhold G. An Analysis of Automated Ambulatory Medical Record Systems.
Office of Medical Information Systems, University of California, San Francisco Medical
Center. 1975.
500 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
65. Herner & Co. The use of computers in hospitals. Report III-Survey analysis; report IV-
descriptions of computer applications. Bethesda: National Center for Health Services
Research; 1968.
66. Hodge MH. History of the TDS medical information system. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA, edi-
tors. A history of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 328–44.
67. Houser ML, Barlow JL, Tedeschi RJ, Spicer M, Shields D, Diamond L. The implementation
of hospital information systems: change, challenge, and commitment. Proc SCAMC.
1984;221–4.
68. Huff Jr WS. Automatic data processing in hospitals: computer handles total financial work-
load for 12-unit hospital system. Hospitals. 1964;38:81.
69. IHS Patient care component health summary. Tuscon, AZ: Indian Health Service; 1990.
70. Ivers MT, Timson GF. The applicability of the CA integrated clinical CORE information
system to the needs of other health care providers. MUG Q. 1985;14:19–22.
71. Ivers MT, Timson GF, Hv B, Whitfield G, Keltz PD, Pfeil CN. Large scale implementation of
compatible hospital computer systems within the Veterans Administration. Proc SCAMC
1983;53–6.
72. Jacobs SE. Hospital-wide computer systems: the market and the vendors. MUG Q.
1982;7:25–6.
73. Johnson ME. Pulmonary testing laboratory computer application. Proc SCAMC.
1980;1:253–7.
74. Jones JK. Inpatient databases. In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacolepidemiology. 2nd ed.
New York: Wiley; 1994. p. 257–76.
75. Karpinski RHS, Bleich HL. MISAR: a miniature information storage and retrieval system.
Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:655–60.
76. Kilpatrick KE, Vogel WB, Carswell JL. Evolution of a computerized support system for
health care capacity planning. J Med Syst. 1988;12:305–17.
77. Kirby JD, Pickett MP, Boyarsky MW, Stead WW. Distributed processing with a mainframe-
based hospital information system: a generalized solution. Proc SCAMC. 1987;764–70.
78. Kuhn IM, Wiederhold G, Rodnick JE, Ransey-Klee D, Benett S, Beck DD. Automated ambu-
latory record systems in the US. NTIS Publication; 1982. p. 178–89.
79. Laska E, Logemann G. Computing at the information sciences division, Rockland State
Hospital. Proc Annual Conf ACM;1971. p. 672–83.
80. Laska E, Siegel C, Meisner M. Data systems in mental health. Methods Inf Med.
1975;14:1–6.
81. Leberto T. Top 25 hospital management information vendors. HealthWeek Insight. 1988;25.
82. Leonard MS, Goldman J. A strategy for the implementation of automated information sys-
tems. Inform Health Soc Care. 1985;10:13–8.
83. Leonard MS, Ashton WB, Blackwell PW. Automated Hospital Information System: AHIS
component catalog. Columbia, MO: University of Missouri-Columbia; 1980.
84. Lindberg D. Computers in mental health care. In: Crawford JL, Morgan DW, Gianturco DT,
editors. Progress in mental health information system computer applications. Cambridge,
MA: Ballinger Pub. Co; 1973. p. 333–8.
85. Lindberg DAB. A statewide medical information system. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:453–63.
86. Little AD. Systems analysis for a new generation of military hospitals. Summary. Cambridge,
MA: Arthur D. Little NTIS AD 722 980;1971.
87. Little AD. Benefits assessment of CHCS: peer review of work in progress. Cambridge, MA:
Arthur D. Little;1988.
88. Lund SR, Ackerman LV, Martin JB, Somand ME. Distributed processing with a local area
network. Proc AAMSI. 1984;52–6.
89. Marlowe K. The key to supporting comprehensive healthcare, research and planning. Healthc
Inform. 1990;7:22–4.
90. Maturi VF, DuBois RM. Recent trends in computerized medical information systems for
hospital departments. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1541–9.
10 Multi-Hospital Information Systems (MHISs) 501
91. McDonald CJ, Blevins L, Tierney WM, Martin DK. The Regenstrief medical records. MD
Comput. 1987;5:34–47.
92. McDonald CJ, Overhage JM, Barnes M, Schadow G, Blevins L, Dexter PR, et al. The Indiana
network for patient care: a working local health information infrastructure. Health Aff.
2005;24:1214–20.
93. Mestrovich MJ. Defense medical systems support center factbook. Falls Church: DMSSC;
1988.
94. Mirel BR, Wright Z, Tenenbaum JD, Saxman P, Smith KA. User requirements for exploring
a resource inventory for clinical research. AMIA SummitsTrans Sci Proc. 2010;2010:31.
95. Mishelevich DJ, Kesinger G, Jasper M. Medical record control and the computer. Topics in
health record management. 1981;2(2):47–55.
96. MITRE: Utilization of the Veterans Administration Software in the TRIMIS Program:
Presentation of the MITRE Final Report. The MITRE Corp. Jul 17, 1984.
97. MUMPS News. SAIC, PRC wins VA HIS contract, MUMPS News 1990;7:1.
98. MUMPS News. MUMPS users group. MUMPS News 1988;5:2.
99. Munnecke TH, Kuhn IM. Large scale portability of hospital information system software.
Proc SCAMC. 1986;133–40.
100. Munnecke TH, Davis RG, Timson GF. The Veterans’ administration kernel programming
environment. Proc SCAMC. 1985;523.
101. Myers E. Shot in the arm. Datamation. 1985;31:75–83.
102. NCHSR. The role of market forces in the delivery of health care: issues for research.
Washington, DC: National Center for Health Services Research; 1988.
103. Nevarez L. Computerized medical record system. Proc 1st Annual TRIMIS Program Conf.
Bethesda, MD: Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences. 1982;53–4.
104. Newald J. Hospitals look to computerization of physician office linkage. Hospitals.
1987;61:92–4.
105. OTA. OTA special report: hospital information systems at the Veterans Administration. 1987.
106. Packer CL. Changing environment spurs new HIS demand. Hospitals. 1985;59:99.
107. Polacsek RA. The fourth annual medical software buyer’s guide. MD Comput.
1987;4:23–136.
108. Rabeau ES. Applied research in health program management. Proceedings of the first
Operation SAM orientation conference. 1966.
109. Reynolds RE, Heller Jr EE. An academic medical center experience with a computerized
hospital information system: the first four years. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:13–6.
110. Rosen D. Medical care information system of the Veterans Administration. Public Health
Rep. 1968;83:363–71.
111. Rosenthal M. The new VA’s new automated hospital. Hosp JAHA. 1966;40:40–6.
112. Rozner E. HIS Market review (Part II): competitive forces are reshaping the industry. HC&C.
1984;4:38–40.
113. Runck HM. Computer planning for hospitals: large-scale education and involvement of
employees. Comput Autom. 1969;18:33–6.
114. Schwartz SR, Stinson C, Berlant J. Computers in psychiatry. MD Comput. 1985;2:42–50.
115. Schwichtenberg AH, Flickinger DD, Lovelace I, Randolph W. Development and use of medi-
cal machine record cards in astronaut selection. US Armed Forces Med
J. 1959;10:1324–51.
116. Shieman BM. Medical information system, El Camino Hospital. IMS Ind Med Surg.
1971;40:25–6.
117. Singer JP. Computer-based hospital information systems. Datamation. 1969;15:38.
118. Sittig DF, Franklin M, Turetsky M, Sussman AJ, Bates DW, Komaroff AL, et al. Design and
development of a computer-based clinical referral system for use within a physician hospital
organization. Stud Health Technol Inform. 1998;52(Pt 1):98–102.
119. Sletten IW. The Missouri statewide automated standard system of psychiatry problems and
partial solutions. Proceedings of the ACM annual conference. 1973, p. 5–6.
120. Spencer WA. An opinion survey of computer applications in 149 hospitals in the USA,
Europe and Japan. Inf Health Soc Care. 1976;1:215–34.
502 M.F. Collen and D.E. Detmer
121. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Winfree RG. Beyond a basic HIS: work stations for department
management. Proc SCAMC. 1984;197–9.
122. Stefanchik MF. Point-of-care information systems: improving patient care. Comput Healthc.
1987;8:78.
123. Stoneburner LL. Survey of computer systems for the physician’s office: current systems. Proc
MEDINFO. 1983;164–9.
124. Summerfield AB, Empey S. Computer-based information systems for medicine: a survey and
brief discussion of current projects. Santa Monica: System Development Corporation; 1965.
125. Teich JM, Glaser JP, Beckley RF, Aranow M, Bates DW, Kuperman GJ, et al. The Brigham
integrated computing system (BICS): advanced clinical systems in an academic hospital
environment. Int J Med Inf. 1999;54:197–208.
126. Timson G. The file manager system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1645–9.
127. TRIMIS. Master plan. Bethesda: TRIMIS Program Office; 1978.
128. TRIMIS Program Office. TRIMIS, composite health care systems: test and evaluation plan.
Bethesda: TRIMIS Program Office; 1988.
129. TRIMIS Program Office. TPO fact sheet: Computerized Medical Record Information System
(CMRIS). Bethesda: TRIMIS Program Office; 1981.
130. TRIMIS RFP. Request for proposals for composite health care systems (CHCS) and small
composite health care systems (SMCHCS). Bethesda: TRIMIS; 1984.
131. Wiederhold G, Fries JF, Weyl S. Structured organization of clinical data bases. Proc AFIPS
Conf. 1975;479–85.
132. Wilkins M, Eberhardy J, Plotnik D, Rock A. Information requirements for health mainte-
nance organizations. Proc SCAMC. 1984;417–9.
133. Wilson HH. Automated data processing for a modern hospital. Santa Monica: System
Development Corporation; 1962.
134. Wurster CR, Goodman JD. NIMH prototype management information system for commu-
nity mental health centers. Proc SCAMC. 1980;2:907–12.
135. Yeh S, Lincoln T. From micro to mainframe. Am J Perinatol. 1985;2:158–60.
136. Young EM, Brian EW, Hardy DR. Automated hospital information systems workbook. Los
Angeles: USC Center for Health Services Publications; 1981.
137. Young EM, Brian EW, Hardy DR, et al. Evaluation of automated hospital data management
systems (AHDMS). Proc SCAMC. 1980;651–7.
Part III
Support Systems
Chapter 11
Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs)
Abstract Operating within a larger medical information system (MIS), clinical sup-
port information systems (CSISs) process the specialized subsystem information
used in support of the direct care of patients. Most of these CSISs were developed as
stand-alone systems. This chapter highlights the early efforts to combine data from
disparate departmental data systems into more “integrated ones” that support the full
spectrum of data management needs of multi-hospital and ambulatory health sys-
tems. In the 1960s and 1970s, institutions incorporated clinical laboratory and medi-
cation subsystems into their MISs; more subsystems were added (pathology, imaging,
etc.); and systems with integrated CSIS were developed for ambulatory care settings.
Despite all the progress made over the past 40 years, two key challenges remain
unsolved: first is the lack of data interoperability among myriad systems; second is
the lack of a useful point of care system. Both threaten to make the clinician’s work
harder; overcoming them is key to transforming the health care system.
Taking care of a patient in 1950 or 2010 usually involved a physician seeing the
patient in a medical office or in a hospital. To evaluate the patient’s health status, the
physician took a history of the patient’s medical problems (symptoms), performed
a physical examination to discover any physical abnormalities (signs), and com-
bined the symptoms and signs to see if they fitted any syndrome. He then recorded
the patient’s history and examination findings and any preliminary impressions of
any syndromes in the patient’s medical record, which was usually a paper-based
chart. The physician often referred the patient for tests and procedures that involved
clinical laboratory, radiology, and other clinical support services. Upon reviewing
the results from these services, the physician could make a preliminary diagnosis
and send the patient to the pharmacy for any needed medications. In some instances,
patients had to undergo one or more surgical procedures to take tissue specimens to
send to pathology for analysis and interpretation. Using all the information received
from these clinical support services, the physician usually arrived at a final diagno-
sis. To prescribe the most appropriate therapy, the physician might consult one or
more colleagues and/or computer databases. In summary, most patients who were
cared for by physicians in hospitals or in medical offices were referred to one or
more clinical support services to receive procedures that could aid in the processes
of diagnosis and/or treatment.
Specialized departmental clinical support information systems (CSISs) have
evolved for the clinical laboratory, pathology, pharmacy, and imaging, each covered
in a separate chapter following this overview. This chapter details the requirements
for a CSIS and provides a summary of early examples of the integration of CSISs
within clinical practice, describes the unique features of dietary information sys-
tems, and concludes with a summary and commentary regarding the future of CSIS.
orders for a patient, to have to repeatedly enter the patient’s identification into sepa-
rate terminals for laboratory, pharmacy, radiology, and/or patient bed transfer, or
discharge orders. Furthermore, many orders were of such a nature that they required
associated secondary orders that involved communications to another department,
such as to dietetics. For example, an order for an upper-gastrointestinal x-ray exami-
nation to be done on a specified day, required that the procedure be scheduled in the
radiology department, that nursing and dietetics departments be notified that food
and fluids should be withheld from the patient prior to the procedure, that the patient
should be transported to the radiology department at the time of the scheduled
examination, and that appropriate instructions be given as to feeding on the patient’s
return.
An entirely new set of requirements were necessary when the CSIS functioned
within or was linked to the MIS: (1) Interface to an available order entry (O/E) mod-
ule that communicated to the CSIS all requisitions for procedures that the patient
was to receive, provide any special instructions to the patient and to relevant person-
nel that included the time the procedure was to be done, and noted any restrictions
as to the patient’s physical activity and food intake prior to the procedure. (2)
Interface to a results reporting module and be able to communicate to one or more
desired locations the dates and times of completing the procedure; and the results of
the procedure including any interpretive comments. (3) Transmit the data into a
computer-based patient record, if available. (4) Support the decision-making pro-
cesses involved in patient care.
As the CSIS technology and systems evolved, a whole new set of technical
requirements and design specifications were needed. The CSIS had to be designed
to: (1) Have acceptable computer terminals for entering patient and procedure data;
and for reporting the results of the completed procedures. (2) Provide appropriate
interfaces between specialized instruments, data-acquisition equipment, and the
CSIS computer. (3) Include computer programs for processing order entry requisi-
tions for services, for providing quality control measures, and for processing and
reporting procedure and/or test results. (4) Provide for a CSIS computer database
adequate in capacity to store all of the patients’ data, and the information associated
with and resulting from all procedures, while ensuring 24 × 7 access to the CSIS. (5)
Have a computer-stored data dictionary (metadatabase) that described all tests and
procedures performed with any special instructions for conducting them; and their
normal and alert boundary limits. (6) Provide communication links to the informa-
tion systems in affiliated medical offices and hospitals from which the patients
came; and also provide links to any needed external databases. (7) Provide reliable
and rapid turn-around services for urgent and emergency medical conditions. (8)
Have a flexible information system design and implementation that could adapt to
changes in medical technology and knowledge. (9) Accommodate an increasing
volume and variety of procedures technical and medical innovations. (10) Employ a
vocabulary of standard terms to facilitate exchange of information with other infor-
mation systems.
Since the exchange of clinical data between different CSIS databases required
the use of standard terms, in 1983 standards for the transmission of clinical data
508 M.F. Collen and J.S. Silva
In 1959 the evolution of clinical support information systems (CSISs) began when
Schenthal [79, 80] and Sweeney at Tulane Medical School, used an IBM 650 com-
puter equipped with magnetic tape storage to process medical record data that
included laboratory test results for clinic patients. They used a mark-sense card
reader that sensed marks made with high-carbon content pencils on special format-
ted cards. The marks were converted into punched holes in standard punch cards.
They read these punched cards into the computer, which then processed and stored
the data for the clinic’s physicians. At about the same time, Spencer and Vallbona,
at the Texas Institute for Rehabilitation and Research (TIRR), began to develop a
fairly comprehensive MIS with several clinical support subsystems. TIRR was a
private, non-profit, special-purpose hospital in the Texas Medical Center at Houston
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 509
computer in their Medical Center. A major initial project was the development of a
computer system for reporting all clinical laboratory test results. At that time their
laboratory data already were being keypunched into cards. Other specific files of
patient material being processed included tumor registry and surgical pathology
[60]. In 1965 they replaced the punched card-oriented system in their clinical labo-
ratory with IBM 1092/1093 matrix-keyboard terminals to enter test results directly
into the computer. In 1965 Lindberg listed as operational the following additional
applications: electrocardiogram interpretations as coded by heart station physicians,
radiology interpretations as coded by the radiologists, and query-and-retrieval pro-
grams for data stored in all patient files [59]. By 1968 they had added an informa-
tion system for their department of surgery which provided patient data that included
laboratory, surgical pathology and autopsy reports [58]. Lindberg used the Standard
Nomenclature of Diseases and Operations (SNDO) for the coding of patients’ dis-
charge diagnoses and surgical operative procedures [61] and stored these on mag-
netic tape for all patients admitted to the hospital between 1955 and 1965. Other
categories of patient data in their system included all SNDO coded diagnoses for
autopsy and surgical pathology specimens, and all coded radiology and electrocar-
diogram interpretations [59]. In 1969 Lindberg operated, for the Missouri Regional
Medical program, a computer dedicated to the interpretation of electrocardiograms,
using the 12-lead scalar system developed by Caceres within the U.S. Public Health
Service (USPHS) Systems Development Laboratory. Electrocardiograms were
transmitted over dial-up telephone lines to the computer center, and automated
interpretations were returned to teletype printers in the doctor’s office or hospital.
In the early 1960s Warner, and associates at the LDS Hospital (formerly known
as the Latter Day Saints Hospital) in Salt Lake City and at the University of Utah,
began to use a Control Data Corporation (CDC) 3,300 computer to support clinical
applications. They used Tektronix 601 terminals capable of displaying 400 charac-
ters in a 25-column by 16-row pattern, or graphical information with a capability of
512 horizontal and 512 vertical dots. Each terminal had a decimal keyboard, and
two 12-bit, octal thumbwheel switches for coding information into the computer
[92]. In the 1970s they developed one of the most effective medical information
systems of that decade. The HELP System at LDS Hospital had terminals located at
its nursing units that allowed the nurses to select orders from displayed menus, and
to review the orders entered and the results reported. In the early 1970s, MEDLAB
was formed to market the clinical laboratory system they had developed that was
directly interfaced to automated laboratory equipment. Special coding systems were
devised to enter data from radiology. In 1971 the Systematized Nomenclature of
Pathology (SNOP) code was used to enter diagnoses at a video terminal [42]. In
1975 the LDS subsystems included their clinical laboratory, multiphasic screening,
and computerized electrocardiogram analysis [55]. By 1978 the LDS medical infor-
mation system had outgrown its centralized computer system; during the 1980s a
network of minicomputers were interfaced to the existing central computer. In the
1980s items stored in their integrated patient record database included reports from
the clinical laboratory, pathology biopsies, radiology, electrocardiography, multi-
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 511
phasic screening, and pharmacy [75]. In the 1990s their HELP system expanded to
provide comprehensive clinical support services in nine Intermountain Health Care
Hospitals in Utah [41].
Since 1963 Collen and associates at Kaiser Permanente (KP) had been operating
automated multiphasic health testing (AMHT) programs in both the San Francisco
and Oakland medical centers [29, 30]. In 1968 a subsidiary computer center con-
taining an IBM 360/50 computer was established in the Department of Medical
Methods Research to develop a prototype MIS that included clinical laboratory and
pharmacy subsystems [31]. Their multiphasic health testing system already pro-
vided patient identification data, appointment scheduling and daily patient appoint-
ment lists, specimen labels, patient and specimen registration, quality control
procedures, clinical laboratory test results, physician interpretations of electrocar-
diograms and x-rays, clinical decision-support including alert and warning signals
for findings outside of predetermined normal limits, advice rules for secondary
sequential testing, consider rules for likely diagnoses. All patient data were stored
in computer-based patient records and in research databases. The automated multi-
phasic health testing programs in San Francisco and in Oakland each entered the
data for l50 patients’ health checkups a day. For electrocardiogram, pathology, and
radiology reports, an IBM magnetic tape/selectric typewriter (MT/ST) was used for
processing written or dictated text. With slight modifications in their typing rou-
tines, secretaries used the typewriters to store on analog magnetic tape the patient
identification, procedure and test data, and the physicians’ reports. These data were
transmitted to a receiver MT/ST located in the central computer facility. By means
of a digital-data recorder and converter device, a second tape was created in a digital
form acceptable for input to the patient’s computer-stored medical record in the
IBM 360 computer [27]. A pharmacy system was added in 1969. In the 1980s a
central clinical laboratory was established and its laboratory computer system was
linked to the Kaiser Permanente regional, mainframe computer center.
In 1964 the Information Systems Division of the Lockheed Missiles and Space
Company in Sunnyvale, California began to apply their aerospace expertise to
develop a hospital information system in the El Camino Hospital in Mountain View,
California [39, 40]. In l97l Lockheed sold its system to the Technicon Corporation,
which had come to dominate automation in the clinical laboratory; and now its
owner, Whitehead, saw an opportunity to extend automation from the clinical labo-
ratory into the entire hospital information system. In March 1971 El Camino
Hospital signed a contract for the installation of the Technicon MIS, a hospital
information system operated with an IBM 370/155 time-shared computer located in
Technicon’s Mountain View offices [82]. By early 1973 the hospital had installed
terminals throughout, including its clinical support services; and over the next sev-
eral years continued to refine and improve the system [25]. By 1977, there were 60
terminals, each consisting of a television screen with a light-pen data selector, key-
board, and printer, located throughout the hospital, with two terminals installed at
most nursing stations. The terminal’s display screen was used to present lists of
items, for example, orders for laboratory tests. A specific item was selected by
pointing the light-pen at the desired word (or phrase), and pressing a switch on the
512 M.F. Collen and J.S. Silva
barrel of the pen. The Technicon MIS was one of the first systems designed to allow
the physician to enter his or her orders and review the results [23]. Using the light-
pen, a physician could select a specific patient and then enter a full set of medical
orders for laboratory work, medications, x-rays, and other procedures. The com-
puter then stored the orders and sent appropriate laboratory requisitions, pharmacy
labels, x-ray requisitions, and requests for other procedures to the appropriate hos-
pital departments. Furthermore, physicians could generate personal order sets for
particular conditions and write the complete order with a single light-pen selection
[42]. Of the total number of orders, 75 % were entered into the computer by the
physician [93]. Physicians, nurses, and other hospital personnel used the light-pen
technique extensively and employed the keyboard only occasionally [51]. Computer-
produced printouts included medication due time lists, laboratory specimen pickup
time lists, cumulative test result summaries, radiology reports, and discharge sum-
maries [17]. Physicians, on retrieving patient data from the display terminals,
received clinical reminders and alerts. In 1978 they developed a library that con-
tained information on diagnoses, recommended treatments, laboratory interpreta-
tion aids for test results, and indications for ordering diagnostic tests for certain
diseases. Laboratory test results and radiology interpretations were available at the
terminals as soon as they were entered into the system. A cumulative laboratory
summary report printed daily showed the last 7 days of patients’ test results [88]. A
paper-based medical chart was maintained for all handwritten and dictated docu-
ments, since for physicians, the Technicon system was used primarily as an order
entry and results reporting (OE/RR) system. Upon discharge, a complete listing of
all test and procedure results, including graphic charts, were printed at the medical
records department to be filed in the patient’s paper charts [93].
In 1966 a system with an IBM 360/30 computer that used matrix button input
terminals, similar to those at Akron Children’s Hospital, was installed in the
Monmouth Medical Center Hospital in Long Branch, New Jersey. These input ter-
minals, along with keyboard typewriters, were located in the hospital’s nursing sta-
tions, pharmacy, laboratory, and radiology [71]. In 1966 Barnett, and associates at
the Laboratory of Computer Science, a unit of the Department of Medicine of the
Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) and the Harvard Medical School, initiated
a pilot project that included a clinical laboratory reporting system and a medications
ordering system [10]. Having Teletype terminals that permitted interactive order
entry, Barnett was reluctant to use clerical personnel to enter physician’s orders
because he felt that this tended to eliminate the power and usefulness of an online
computer system for checking the completeness, accuracy, and acceptability of an
order; and for giving back pertinent stored current information about a specific
patient. An online, interactive system could check an order against the data in the
computer record for drug-drug interactions, or drug-laboratory test value interac-
tions, or known allergic reactions to drugs. If this information was not given back
immediately to the physician at the time the order was created, Barnett felt that it
was less useful, since he believed that if there was a significant time delay between
the writing of the order and its entry into the computer system, the responsible phy-
sician might have left the care unit and clarification of the order could then be more
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 513
difficult and very time-consuming. Barnett recognized that the order entry systems
generally available at that time allowed the physicians to write their orders and
notes in the routine fashion, and then used clerical personnel to enter the informa-
tion into the computer system. He felt that the inherent weakness in this strategy
was that the computer interaction was not with the physician who was generating
the order, but with a clerical staff member who had no decision making power [14].
Barnett’s MGH system was soon expanded into nine patient care areas with about
300 beds and into three laboratories in the hospital; it used more than 100 standard
model Teletype terminals. Computer programs were presented to the user in an inter-
active mode wherein the computer asked a question and the user entered a response.
By 1967 Barnett reported that the computer programs in use at MGH included the
entering of laboratory test results, and the printing of any selected group of labora-
tory tests [12]. In 1967 Barnett developed a medications ordering system at the
MGH. Every hour on each patient care unit, the MGH computer generated a list of
medications to be administered at that hour. It also listed laboratory test results, with
weekly summaries organized in a format designed by the users to display tests in
associated groups such as serum electrolytes and hematology. By 1974 there were
operational at MGH the clinical laboratory and medication order processing func-
tions; and additional modules were being developed for hematology, pathology,
x-ray scheduling, x-ray film folder inventory control, and x-ray reporting. These
modules were all written using the MGH Utility Multi-Programming System
(MUMPS) and were implemented on several different but functionally identical
computer systems. In 1971 Barnett and associates initiated the Computer-Stored
Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) system for the Harvard Community Health Plan
(HCHP) in Boston. COSTAR operated under the MUMPS language and operating
system [13, 15, 45]. The health professionals in their offices manually completed
structured encounter forms at the time of each patient visit. These forms were printed
for the first visit and then computer-generated for subsequent visits. On these forms
the physicians recorded their orders for tests, their diagnoses, and treatments. The
completed forms were collected for the medical record room, and the data were
entered by clerks using remote terminals connected by telephone lines to the com-
puter located at the Laboratory of Computer Science. A status report generated after
the entry of any new data to the patient’s record provided an updated summary of the
patient’s current status, including current medications and latest laboratory test
results. Barnett [11] wrote that in its design and implementation, a central objective
of COSTAR was to provide information-processing support for communication of
laboratory, x-ray, and electrocardiogram reports. By the late 1970s COSTAR had
gone through four revisions in its system design at the HCHP [16]. By the end of the
1980s, the COSTAR system was widely disseminated in the United States, and was
being used in more than 120 sites [9].
In 1967 Weed and associates at the University of Vermont College of Medicine
in Burlington initiated their Problem-Oriented Medical Information System
(PROMIS) [92]. In 1971 it became operational in a 20-bed gynecology ward at the
University Hospital, with linkages to radiology, laboratory, and pharmacy. In 1975
Weed had a computer system that consisted of two Control Data Corporation (CDC)
514 M.F. Collen and J.S. Silva
l,700 series computers with CDC’s operating system, and 14 Digiscribe touch-
sensitive video terminals; one located in the pharmacy, and one in the x-ray depart-
ment [34]. By 1977 the system had 30 touch-sensitive display terminals located in
the hospital wards, in the pharmacy, clinical laboratory, and in radiology, all con-
nected to a single minicomputer. The terminals could display 1,000 characters of
information in 20 lines of 50 characters each, and had 20 touch-sensitive fields. The
user selected an item by touching the screen at the position of that choice. Free-form
data could be entered by typing on the keyboard attached to the terminal. In 1979
PROMIS expanded to employ a network of minicomputers [81].
In 1968 Lamson, and associates at the University of California Hospitals in Los
Angeles, acquired their first computer for a clinical laboratory and surgical pathol-
ogy reporting system [57]. Their initial information system was gradually expanded,
and by 1975 it provided summary reports that included data received from a large
number of clinical laboratory computers and also included a tumor registry [57]. In
1968 Siegel, at the New York-Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn, described a
hospital information system that used an IBM 1440–1410 computer complex con-
nected to 40 remote typewriter-terminal printers. They entered data using punched
cards, paper tape, and IBM 1092 matrix-overlay keyboards; and they used magnetic
tape and disk for data storage. Terminals were placed in specialty clinics, in labora-
tories, radiology, and pharmacy [83]. In 1969 the nine Los Angeles County hospi-
tals initiated a centralized information system. Beginning with an IBM 360/40
computer connected by telephone cable to remote display terminals and printers
located initially in the admitting offices and pharmacies, centralized patient records
were established. Pilot testing was conducted at that time by nurses for the order
entry of medications, diets, and laboratory tests [77]. In 1969 Jelliffe, and associates
at the University of Southern California School of Medicine, initiated at the Los
Angeles County General Hospital a series of programs for clinical pharmacology to
analyze dosage requirements for a variety of medications. In 1972 programs were
added to analyze data from their electrocardiograms and echocardiograms [52].
In 1969 Hammond and Stead at Duke University, began to develop a
minicomputer-supported, office information system [46]. Data entry methods
included interactive video terminals and batch-processed mark-sense forms. They
soon installed a clinical laboratory system designed to allow for the ordering and
reporting of laboratory data. In 1975 their computer-stored patient record included
diagnostic and treatment orders, laboratory test results, medications, and some fol-
low-up findings [96]. They used a data dictionary to define all clinical variables, all
extensively coded [49]. By 1980 their computer-based medical record system,
which they called The Medical Record (TMR) system, used two PDP-11 minicom-
puters and was then supported by GEMISCH as its database management system
[48]. TMR was dictionary driven, and the TMR programs were modularly
constructed. The THERAPY module provided a formulary with the ability to pre-
scribe drugs, charge for drugs dispensed in the clinic, and monitor therapies pre-
scribed elsewhere. The STUDIES module provided for ordering tests, for entry of
test results, and for viewing results, including graphics. The FLOW module pro-
vided various time-oriented presentations of the data. Their APPOINTMENT
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 515
tory instruments; with disc drives for storage and magnetic tape storage for backup
and archival storage. Laboratory instruments were interfaced through an IBM 1800
analog-digital computer. In 1970 Grams, and associates at the University of Florida
in Gainesville and the 500-bed Shands Hospital with its outpatient clinic and emer-
gency room, began to formulate their computer-based laboratory information sys-
tem that was designed to provide some clinical decision support capabilities [44].
Initially the system did not provide any reporting capabilities; the test results were
manually recorded on cumulative report form. In 1975 a single computer began to
service their subsystems for anatomic pathology, microscopy, chemistry, hematol-
ogy, immunology, microbiology, and blood banking, in addition to their hospital
admissions functions. In 1977 they installed a network to integrate their laboratory
functions, hospital admissions service, and nursing stations. They used one com-
puter for the nursing and admissions functions, linked to a second computer in the
laboratory [44].
In 1972 McDonald, and associates at the Regenstrief Institute for Health Care
and the Indiana University School of Medicine, began to develop the Regenstrief
Medical Record System (RMRS) for the care of ambulatory patients [47]. The
RMRS used a PDP 11/45 computer with a database that supported the medical
record file and its associated language (CARE). Patient data was generally stored in
a coded format, although some free-text entry was permitted [65]. Their database
files also included their clinical laboratory system, their pharmacy system, patient
appointment file, and a dictionary of terms. The RMRS was intended to comple-
ment their paper-based patient record; and for each patient served, RMRS contained
a core computer-stored medical record that included laboratory, x-ray, and electro-
cardiography reports. A two-part patient encounter form was generated for each
patient’s return visit. The physician recorded numeric clinical data for later optical-
machine reading into the computer. A space was provided on the form for writing
orders for tests. Within the space for orders, the computer suggested certain tests
that might be needed. The patient’s current prescriptions were listed at the bottom
of the encounter form in a medication profile. The physician refilled or discontinued
these drugs by writing “R” or “D/C” next to them; and wrote new prescriptions
underneath this list. The patient took a carbon copy of this section of the encounter
form to the pharmacy as his prescription. Thus, the encounter form performed many
of the recording and retrieving tasks for the physician. Data, recorded by physicians
on the encounter forms, were entered into the computer by clerks. In McDonald’s
RMRS laboratory, information was acquired directly from the laboratory system.
Pharmacy prescription information was captured from both the hospital and outpa-
tient pharmacy systems. For each patient’s return visit a patient summary report was
generated which included historical and treatment information; and reports from
laboratories, radiology, electrocardiography, and nuclear medicine in a modified
flow sheet format [64]. It listed the results of the patient’s laboratory tests, and the
test results were presented in reverse chronological order. With this time-oriented
view of the data, the physician could readily find and compare the most recent data
to prior data, such as for repeated laboratory tests. An asterisk was placed beside
each abnormal value for emphasis. McDonald and associates [68] reported that the
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 517
RMRS also used paper reports, rather than visual displays as its primary mechanism
for transmitting information to the physician; and this mode of output was preferred
since it was cheap, portable, easier to browse, and paper reports could be annotated
with paper and pencil. In the early 1980s, the RMRS shared a DEC VAX 11/780
computer with the clinical laboratory and pharmacy systems; and used a microcom-
puter- based workstation to display forms, in which the user could enter data using
a mouse to select data from menus [64]. By the mid-1980s, the RMRS’s computer-
based patient record contained patient’s diagnoses, treatments, imaging studies,
electrocardiograms; and laboratory and medication data were entered automatically
from computerized laboratory and pharmacy systems [64]. In 1988 the RMRS was
also linked to the laboratory, radiology, and pharmacy within the local Veterans and
University hospitals [67]. By the end of the 1990s, the RMRS served a large net-
work of hospitals and clinics [69].
In 1976 Bleich, Slack, and associates at Beth Israel Hospital in Boston initiated
their clinical computing system. In 1982 they expanded their system into the
Brigham and Women’s Hospital. By 1984 their system ran on a network of Data
General Eclipse minicomputers that supported 300 video-display terminals located
throughout the hospital. The system permitted one to retrieve data from the clinical
laboratories, to look up reports from the departments of radiology and pathology,
look up prescriptions filled in the outpatient pharmacy, and to request delivery of
patients’ charts. In 1983 a survey of 545 physicians, medical students, and nurses
showed that they used the computer terminals most of the time to look up laboratory
test results; and 83 % said that the terminals enabled them to work faster [19]. In the
1990s their clinical computing system provided results from all laboratories and
clinical departments [86]. In 1994 Brigham and Women’s Hospital joined with
Massachusetts General Hospital to form Partners Health Care System that included
ten hospitals and more than 250 practice sites. Its clinical computing had begun with
the Beth Israel system, but it was rapidly expanded to serve the entire Partners
System with its clinical support subsystems. In 1979 Fetter [35] described a
microcomputer-based medical information system installed at Yale University,
using a Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) 16-bit LSI-11 processor, with com-
puter terminals installed in Yale’s radiology department and its clinical laboratory.
patients over a period of a few weeks. They classified the food items and the food
quantifiers, and developed a dietary/nutrient knowledge base with added informa-
tion from resources on food types, food preparation, food combinations, portion
sizes, and with dietary details from the dietary/nutrient resource database of 4,200
individual foods reported in the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Continuing
Survey of Food Intakes by Individuals (CSFII). They then developed an algorithm
to extract the dietary information from their patients’ dietary records, and to auto-
matically map selected items to their dietary/nutrient knowledge database. They
reported 90 % accuracy in the automatic processing of the spoken dietary records.
Much work has been done to combine data from disparate departmental data sys-
tems into more “integrated ones” that support the full spectrum of data management
needs of multi-hospital and ambulatory health systems. Yet efforts to support clini-
cal users still face two key challenges, particularly with regard to CPOE and Results
Reporting functions. First, the lack of data interoperability amongst the myriad of
data systems, both within and across health systems, continues to be one of the most
vexing problems [1, 73]. For clinicians, this lack translates into a less than complete
picture of their patients who received health services in multiple settings. For health
consumers (i.e., patients), this necessitates collecting and maintaining copies of
records, usually paper, from each health provider. This situation will continue to
worsen as health services move more from hospital and clinic settings to commu-
nity and home settings. Second, the lack of a useful point of care system (POC) for
clinicians makes their work harder [8] and may actually introduce errors [2]. The
amount of health data was estimated at 150 Exabyte in 2011 and expected to grow.
Individual patient home monitoring and testing data together with the Internet of
Things sensor data [24] will increase the total health data even more dramatically.
These twenty-first century data sources already exceed the capacity of most health
data systems to gather and transform it into relevant information. The signal-to-
noise overload will further exacerbate the ability of POC systems to provide rele-
vant and usable information to clinicians.
Recent efforts by the Office of the National Coordinator (ONC) within the
Department of Health and Human Services have focused on improving the interop-
erability of electronic health record systems and health information exchanges.
ONC has released its 10 year vision for an interoperable health system [72]. In addi-
tion, the HL7 standards organization has released its Fast Healthcare Interoperability
Resources (FHIR) specification to accelerate exchanging healthcare information
electronically [36]. Taken together, funding from ONC and support for rapid stan-
dards evolution by HL7 will be a key factor in realizing data interoperability.
Realizing a POC system that provides utility and usability to clinicians, consum-
ers and administrators (POC users) is still an unfulfilled vision. We would add sev-
520 M.F. Collen and J.S. Silva
eral other POC user requirements to the list for both CSISs and EHRs [85]. Namely,
they should:
• Know and use the POC user’s context to increase the user’s “cognitive
window”
• Support the coordination and scheduling tasks, based on locally relevant out-
comes and measures
• Be customized based on what information is entered, what the user needs to see,
what the user does, and how the user thinks
• Move from device to device, installing automatically on whatever POC device is
being used
• Insulate the user from the quirks of systems to which the POC sends or receives
data.
In addition, ONC has funded projects that were focused on cognitive support
issues. A recent report from one of these projects, SHARPC, detailed a number of
features to make a better EHR [98]. The future “Smart” POC system, coupled with
better EHRs and relevant, interoperable data, may realize the “much anticipated”
information technology enabled transformation of the U.S. health system.
References
1. AHRQ. A robust health data infrastructure. Report prepared by JASON for the AHRQ
National Resource Center; Health Information Technology: best practices transforming qual-
ity, safety, and efficiency. 2014.
2. Ash JS, Berg M, Coiera E. Some unintended consequences of information technology in
health care: the nature of patient care information system-related errors. J Am Med Inform
Assoc. 2004;11:104–12.
3. ASTM 1988. Standard guide for description of reservation/registration-admission, discharge,
transfer (R-ADT) systems for automated patient care information systems. Philadelphia:
American Society for Testing Materials; 1988. E-1239-88.
4. ASTM 1988. Standard specifications for transferring clinical laboratory data messages
between independent computer systems. Philadelphia: American Society for Testing
Materials; 1988. E-1238-88.
5. ASTM 1989. Standard specifications for transferring clinical observations between indepen-
dent computer systems. Philadelphia: American Society for Testing Materials; 1989.
E-1238-88.
6. Balintfy JL. Computer assisted menu planning and food service management. In: Spector W,
editor. Handbook of biomedical information systems. Chicago: Encyclopedia Britannica;
1971. p. 85.
7. Balintfy JL, Nebel E. Experiments with computer-assisted menu planning. Hospitals.
1966;40:88–97.
8. Ball MJ, Silva JS, Bierstock S, Douglas JV, Norcio AF, Chakraborty J, et al. Failure to pro-
vide clinicians useful IT systems: opportunities to leapfrog current technologies. Methods Inf
Med. 2008;47:4–7.
9. Barnett GO. The application of computer-based medical record systems in ambulatory prac-
tice. In: Orthner HF, Blum BI, editors. Implementing health care information systems.
New York: Springer; 1989. p. 85–99.
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 521
39. Gall J. Computerized hospital information system cost-effectiveness: a case study. In: van
Egmond J, de Vries Robbe PF, Levy AH, editors. Information systems for patient care.
Amsterdam: North Holland; 1976. p. 281–93.
40. Gall J. Cost-benefit analysis: total hospital informatics. In: Koza RC, editor. Health informa-
tion system evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 299–327.
41. Gardner RM, Pryor TA, Warner HR. The HELP hospital information system: update 1998.
Int J Med Inform. 1999;54:169–82.
42. Giebink GA, Hurst LL. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975.
43. Gotcher SB, Carrick J, Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Carter RE, Cornell S. Daily treatment plan-
ning with an on-line shared computer system. Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:200.
44. Grams RR. Medical information systems: the laboratory module. Clifton: Humana Press;
1979.
45. Grossman JH, Barnett GO, Koepsell TD, Nesson HR, Dorsey JL, Phillips RR. An automated
medical record system. JAMA. 1973;224:1616–21.
46. Hammond WE. GEMISCH. A minicomputer information support system. Proc IEEE.
1973;61:1575–83.
47. Hammond W, Stead W, Straube M, Kelly M, Winfree R. An interface between a hospital
information system and a computerized medical record. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1537–40.
48. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ, Jelovsek FR. Functional characteristics of a comput-
erized medical record. Methods Inf Med. 1980;19:157–62.
49. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Feagin SJ, Brantley BA, Straube MJ. Data base management
system for ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC. 1977;173–87.
50. Hernandez T, Walker B. Innovations in microcomputer based dietary assessment. Proc
MEDINFO. 1986. pp. 476–9.
51. Hodge MH. Medical information systems: a resource for hospitals. Germantown: Aspen
Publishers; 1977.
52. Jelliffe RW, Schumitzky A, Rodman J, Crone J. A package of time-shared computer programs
for patient care. Proc SCAMC. 1977;154.
53. Johns RJ, Blum BI. The use of clinical information systems to control cost as well as to
improve care. Trans Am Clin Climatol Assoc. 1979;90:140.
54. Juenemann HJ. The design of a data processing center for biological data. Ann N Y Acad Sci.
1964;115:547–52.
55. Kuperman GJ. The pharmacy application of the HELP system. In: Kuperman GJ, Gardner
RM, Pryor TA, editors. HELP: a dynamic hospital information system. New York: Springer;
1991. pp. 168–72.
56. Lacson R, Long W. Natural language processing of spoken diet records (SDRs). Proc AMIA
Annu Symp. 2006. pp. 454–8.
57. Lamson BG. Mini-computers and large central processors from a medical record manage-
ment point of view. International symposium on medical information systems. 1975.
pp. 58–65.
58. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
59. Lindberg D. Electronic retrieval of clinical data. J Med Educ. 1965;40:753–9.
60. Lindberg D. A computer in medicine. Mo Med. 1964;61:282–4.
61. Lindberg D, Reese GR, Buck C. Computer generated hospital diagnosis file. Mo Med.
1964;61:581–2. passim.
62. Lowder W, Medill C. Punch cards simplify selective menus. Mod Hosp. 1958;90:90–102.
passim.
63. McColligan E, Blum B, Brunn C. An automated care medical record system for ambulatory
care. In: Kaplan B, Jelovsek FR, editors. Proc SCM/SAMS joint conf on ambulatory med.
Washington, DC: Society for Computer Medicine; 1981. pp. 72–6.
64. McDonald CJ. The medical gopher: a microcomputer based physician work station. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;453–9.
65. McDonald C, Blevins L, Glazener T, Haas J, Lemmon L, Meeks-Johnson J. Data base man-
agement, feedback control, and the Regenstrief medical record. J Med Syst. 1983;7:111–25.
11 Clinical Support Information Systems (CSISs) 523
66. McDonald CJ, Hammond WE. Standard formats for electronic transfer of clinical data. Ann
Intern Med. 1989;110:333–5.
67. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. Computer-stored medical records: their future role in medical
practice. JAMA. 1988;259:3433–40.
68. McDonald CJ, Murray R, Jeris D, Bhargava B, Seeger J, Blevins L. A computer-based record
and clinical monitoring system for ambulatory care. Am J Public Health. 1977;67:240–5.
69. McDonald CJ, Overhage JM, Tierney WM, Dexter PR, Martin DK, Suico JG, et al. The
Regenstrief medical record system: a quarter century experience. Int J Med Inform.
1999;54:225–53.
70. McNabb ME. 90-day nonselective menus by computer. Hospitals. 1971;45:88–91.
71. Monmouth. Monmouth medical shapes a total system. Systems. 1966. pp. 12–48.
72. ONC/HHS. Connecting health and care for the nation. A 10 year vision to achieve an interop-
erable health IT infrastructure. Washington, DC: Health and Human Services, Office of the
National Coordinator; 2015.
73. PCAST. Report to the president. Realizing the full potential of health information technology
to improve the health of Americans: the path forward. Washington, DC: President’s Council
of Advisors on Science and Technology (PCAST); 2010. Available at www.thewhitehouse.
gov.
74. Pratt AW. Progress towards a medical information system for the research environment. In:
Fuchs G, Wagner G, editors. Sonderdruck aus Krankenhaus-Informationsysteme. New York:
Schattauer-Verlag; 1972. p. 319–36.
75. Pryor TA, Gardner RM, Clayton PD, Warner HR. The HELP system. J Med Syst.
1983;7:87–102.
76. Rothrock JJ. ASTM: the standards make the pieces fit. Proc AAMSI congress. 1989.
pp. 327–35.
77. Runck HM. Computer planning for hospitals-large-scale education and involvement of
employees. Comput Autom. 1969;18:33.
78. Rutt TE. Work of IEEE P1157 medical data interchange committee. Int J Clin Monit Comput.
1989;6:45–57.
79. Schenthal JE. Clinical concepts in the application of large scale electronic data processing.
Proc 2nd IBM medical symposium. 1960. pp. 391–9.
80. Schenthal JE, Sweeney JW, Nettleton W. Clinical application of electronic data processing
apparatus: II. New methodology in clinical record storage. JAMA. 1961;178:267–70.
81. Schultz JR, Davis L. The technology of PROMIS. Proc IEEE. 1979;67:1237–44.
82. Shieman BM. Medical information system, El Camino Hospital. IMS Ind Med Surg.
1971;40:25–6.
83. Siegel SJ. Developing an information system for a hospital. Public Health Rep.
1968;83:359–62.
84. Silva J, Seybold N, Ball M. Usable health IT for physicians. Smart point-of-care and com-
parative effectiveness research form the true basis for meaningful use. Healthc Inform.
2010;27:40–3.
85. Simborg DW. An emerging standard for health communications: the HL7 standard. Healthc
Comput Commun. 1987;4:58–60.
86. Slack WV, Bleich HL. The CCC system in two teaching hospitals: a progress report. Int J
Med Inform. 1999;54:183–96.
87. Sneider RM. Using a medical information system to improve the quality of patient care. Proc
SCAMC. 1978;594.
88. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Calculating storage requirements for office practice systems.
Proc SCAMC. 1985;68.
89. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Winfree RG. Beyond a basic HIS: work stations for department
management. Proc SCAMC. 1984;197.
90. Tolchin SG, Barta W. Local network and distributed processing issues in the Johns Hopkins
Hospital. J Med Syst. 1986;10:339–53.
524 M.F. Collen and J.S. Silva
91. Vallbona C, Spencer WA. Texas institute for research and rehabilitation hospital computer
system (Houston). In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974.
p. 662–700.
92. Warner HR. A computer-based patient monitoring. In: Stacy RW, Waxman B, editors.
Computers in biomedical research, vol. III. New York: Academic; 1972. p. 239–51.
93. Watson RJ. A large-scale professionally oriented medical information system – five years
later. J Med Syst. 1977;1:3–21.
94. Weed LL. Problem-oriented medical information system (PROMIS) laboratory. In: Giebink
GA, Hurst LL, editors. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975. p. 199–203.
95. Wheeler PS, Simborg DW, Gitlin JN. The Johns Hopkins radiology reporting system.
Radiology. 1976;119:315–9.
96. Wheeler LA, Wheeler ML. Review of microcomputer nutrient analysis and menu planning
programs. MD Comput. 1984;1:42–51.
97. Wiederhold G. Summary of the findings of the visiting study team automated medical record
systems for ambulatory care. Visit to Duke University Medical Center, CDD-5 HRA Contract,
June 29. 1975.
98. Witschi J, Kowaloff H, Bloom S, Slack W. Analysis of dietary data; an interactive computer
method for storage and retrieval. J Am Diet Assoc. 1981;78:609–13.
99. Zhang J, Walji M. Better EHR: usability, workflow and cognitive support in electronic health
records. Houston: National Center for Cognitive Informatics and Decision Making in Health
Care; 2014.
Chapter 12
Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information
Systems
Abstract The clinical laboratory (LAB) was an early adopter of computer technol-
ogy, beginning with the chemistry and hematology laboratories, which had similar
information processing requirements. LAB systems in the early 1960s were primar-
ily offline, batch-oriented systems that used punched cards for data transfer to the
hospital mainframe. The advent of minicomputers in the 1970s caused a rapid surge
in the development of LAB systems that supported online processing of data from
automated laboratory instruments. In the 1980s, LAB systems increasingly
employed minicomputers to integrate data into a common database and satisfy func-
tional requirements, including programs for quality control, reference values, trend
analyses, graphical presentation, online test interpretations, and clinical guidelines.
By 1987 about 20 % of US hospitals had computer links between their LAB systems
and their hospital information systems and affiliated outpatient information sys-
tems. In the 1990s, LAB systems began using client-server architecture with net-
worked workstations, and most hospitals had a variety of specialized clinical support
information systems interconnected to form a medical information system with a
distributed database of clinical data that constituted the electronic patient record. By
the 2000s, several hundred different clinical tests were routinely available (there had
been only a few dozen in the 1950s). The need for more sophisticated and powerful
LAB systems has largely been met by commercially available standalone laboratory
information systems (LIS); however, there is now increasing pressure to replace
these products with the lab-system functionality of the enterprise-wide integrated
electronic health record system, for which there is little reported experience.
This chapter on the LAB system is new to this second edition of A History of
Medical Informatics in the United States, and reflects Dr. Morris F. Collen’s meticu-
lous scholarship in documenting the history of the application of computer technol-
ogy to the clinical laboratories. The computerization of the clinical laboratories
represents the earliest – and now most widely adopted – clinical application of com-
puter technology in health care, and has evolved over the past six decades in lock-
step with advances in laboratory technology and automation, and with the parallel
advances in computer hardware and software.
The LAB system is the term used to describe the computer hardware and soft-
ware that support the clinical laboratories, including the processing of requests for
laboratory testing on patients’ specimens, the internal operations of the laboratories,
and the reporting of laboratory test results. The similar functions for the anatomic
pathology (surgical pathology) laboratory are provided by the PATH system, which
is discussed in Chap. 13.
An appreciation of the history of the LAB system provides important insights
into the limitations of contemporary LAB systems and the requirements for LAB
systems of the future. Additionally, an understanding of early LAB system innova-
tions, such as rule-based processing for laboratory diagnosis or detecting hospital
acquired infections, reveals many still-unfulfilled needs in clinical informatics that
can be revisited and re-implemented using computer hardware and software tech-
nologies that are vastly more powerful than those available to the early LAB system
pioneers.
The clinical laboratories, broadly defined, are hospital organizational units and
other entities, such as commercial reference laboratories, that perform in vitro anal-
yses on patients’ specimens to aid in the diagnosis and management of the patients’
health or disease. Clinical laboratory information provides unique and essential
“non-sensory” input to the care process for virtually all types and categories of
patients, and routine laboratory testing is now performed on millions of patients
nationwide each day at a cost of only a few percent of the nation’s total expenditures
on health care.
Clinical laboratories historically were named for their scientific disciplines or
sub-disciplines – or their technologies – making the bacteriology and pathology
laboratories of more than a century ago the first true “clinical laboratories.” In the
ensuing decades, the hematology, chemistry and immunology laboratories, and the
blood bank, all became major players. There are now laboratories named for new
technologies such as flow cytometry and histochemistry; and laboratories employ-
ing molecular (nucleic acid) testing methods have become increasingly important in
the rapidly evolving era of genetic and genomic medicine.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 527
tory methods, laboratory automation, and laboratory computer applications that can
be expected to continue for at least the foreseeable future. This chapter tells the
story of the LAB system, and is intended to convey Morris Collen’s thoughts and
perspectives as he recorded them, as it is his views and ideas on the history of the
LAB system that are of the greatest value to all of us.
12.1 Introduction
Williams [241] at the Clinical Center of the National Institutes of Health advised
that establishing the functional requirements for a LAB system required the collec-
tion of information regarding: (1) specimen volumes, types of tests, number of tests
per specimen; (2) numbers of high-volume tests and numbers of stat or emergency
tests; (3) short-term and long-term storage and retrieval requirements; (4) quality-
control procedures; (5) report formats for test results, including cumulative-
summary formats; (6) flagging of abnormalities on reports and comparison of
patients’ current test results to prior test results; (7) periodic statistical reports of
workloads by categories of specimens and tests; (8) blood inventories and transfu-
sion records for blood banks; (9) billing procedures; and (10) other specific needs of
physicians, administrators, and researchers. These data could then be used to
develop the functional requirements for the LAB system. Also, to ensure reliable
laboratory services, backup facilities were necessary for processing laboratory data
whenever there was a failure of the LAB system. Williams emphasized that although
single analytical instruments could readily be connected to a computer, the labora-
tory operations were quite complex, and the processing of all specimens would not
be identical because of variations in patients’ disease states and other factors.
Williams proposed some guiding principles for the LAB system: (1) laboratory
tasks should be carefully divided between humans and computers to take advantage
of their respective capabilities; (2) computer programs should include self-checking
features; (3) computers should be used for repetitive data handling where speed and
accuracy are important and computers can yield the greatest benefits; and (4) high
development costs should be avoided by adapting the laboratory’s processes to an
existing LAB system design.
Laboratory test results must be subjected to several checking procedures, includ-
ing determining if test result values are within normal limits; the flagging of abnor-
mal values and extreme values; and checking for medical plausibility (such as
unlikely combinations of test results). The LAB system has to be able to provide a
variety of formatted reports of test results, including tabular and graphic printouts
with cumulative-trend reports and comparisons to prior test results. Additionally,
the LAB system has to be able to store all relevant patient data in a database, and to
respond interactively to queries for data [241]. Blois [30] summarized the functions
of LAB systems that interface with hospital information system (HIS): at the lowest
level, they must receive inputs from other hospital units; at the next higher level,
they must provide certain outputs of information to users; at a higher level, they
must provide quality control of tests and results; and at the highest level, they must
support clinical decision making.
Benson [24] proposed that the uses to which a LAB system could be applied fell
into two broad categories: the improved selection of laboratory tests for diagnosis;
and the improved use of laboratory test results for clinical problem solving.
Lewis [127] emphasized that a principal function of a LAB system was labora-
tory data management, as a modern hospital laboratory typically offered hundreds
of different tests, processed thousands of patients’ specimens a day with some ser-
vices provided 24-h a day; and it provided many thousands of numeric or textual
reports each day, often with dozens of tests per report. Lewis predicted that since
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 531
clinical laboratory testing already accounted for about 8 % of the national health
care expenditures in 1979, the potential cost-savings from LAB systems could be
significant.
Bull and Korpman [40] wrote that a model LAB system had to be able to provide
a variety of reports, including stat reports for urgently needed test results, current
reports for those provided on a daily basis, and cumulative reports to be kept perma-
nently in patients’ records. The LAB system needed to help the technologists per-
form analyses rapidly and reliably, and make test results available to the physicians
whenever, wherever, and however they could most effectively use them. Bull and
Korpman estimated that 15–20 % of laboratory test data were never used in the
diagnosis or treatment of a particular patient’s condition, as the test results were
often buried in the medical record and therefore missed by the physician; and they
noted that a LAB system could provide data reporting mechanisms that would mini-
mize such waste. They specified that the ideal LAB system should allow analyses to
begin as soon as the specimens became available, and should support fast turn-
around times. A variety of laboratory test report formats should be available, and
test results should be accessible in a timely manner at suitably distributed electronic
terminals. A LAB system should maintain a test result database and should be flex-
ible to handle important needed or desired enhancements.
A clinical laboratory’s functions involve procedures for ordering tests, collecting
test specimens, preparing and analyzing the specimens, and reporting and storing
the results of the analyses. Upon arrival in the laboratory, specimens are assigned
unique accession numbers that are linked to the patients’ identification (ID) data.
Specimens may be split into aliquots, and the aliquots are then prepared for the
specific analyses requested. Quantitative measurements may be made of the physi-
cal or chemical makeup of the specimens; observations and counts may be made of
the numbers and types of cell constituents; or the presence of microorganisms may
be assessed. These findings are then evaluated for accuracy and validity; and any
errors found are corrected. Reports of the test results are provided to the clinical
caregivers, administrative and accounting data are made available, and the test
results are stored with other patient data in the LAB system database [135].
Bronzino [36] divided the technical requirements of a LAB system into: (1) local
instrument process control, which involved of a set of computers or processors for
the specimens and analytic procedures with associated specimen identification data
(e.g., for a Coulter Counter or a Technicon AutoAnalyzer); and (2) central labora-
tory computer functions that controlled and integrated the various laboratory
instruments and transferred data from analytic instruments into the computer-based
patients’ records. Also, a LAB system should provide clerical functions for record-
ing, verifying, and reporting laboratory test results.
Bronzino [36] also advised that the installation of a LAB system should include
consideration of: (1) the financial investment; (2) system expansion capacity to
accommodate new workstations and automated instruments; (3) adequacy of system
performance to provide prompt response to requests for test results; (4) operating
system software reliability; (5) provisions for automatic error checking; and (6) the
lack of need for computer programming experience.
532 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
Lincoln [134] advised that the acquisition of a LAB system was similar to the
preparation and execution of a business plan for any new large capital investment.
He suggested preparing a detailed list of specifications for software functions, hard-
ware, installation, training, maintenance and support, in addition to assessing ven-
dor capabilities and costs.
Weilert [235], at Wesley Medical Center in Wichita, Kansas, recommended that
for a vendor-provided LAB system, it was helpful to prepare a Gantt chart to plot
the timing and the estimated duration of various phases in the planning and imple-
mentation of a LAB system for a large medical center. According to Weilert, this
could be expected to take about 18 months from initial planning for all of: vendor
selection, contract negotiations, database preparation, site preparation, installation,
training, and finally, full production operation.
Connelly and associates [56] at the University of Minnesota Health Sciences
Center described a multi-attribute utility model for evaluating and selecting LAB
systems offered by vendors. They assigned weights to attributes that included: (1)
functionality of the applications programs; (2) maintainability and reliability; (3)
performance capacity; (4) flexibility without reprogramming; (5) modifiability and
programmability; (6) vendor support; and (7) vendor qualifications. They advocated
such a structured approach to selecting a LAB system as they considered selection
of a LAB system to be a very complex project.
For health care organizations that operate under fixed-price reimbursement
arrangements or capitation payment systems, the laboratories are cost centers rather
than revenue centers. With the increasing number and variety of available labora-
tory tests, selection of the cost effective tests for specific patient conditions and
patient populations and sub-populations becomes more complicated. Accordingly,
LAB systems had to be able to collect data to provide total cost and unit cost-per-
test, as well as other measures of laboratory efficiency [129].
Smith and Svirbely [198] described the processing cycles of a LAB system as:
an external cycle outside the laboratory that involved test ordering by physicians,
communication of test orders and the delivery of specimens to the laboratory, and
the transmission of test results back to the clinical users; and an internal cycle
within the laboratory that included all the data-processing functions within the labo-
ratory, such as assigning unique specimen identifiers, preparing work lists for tech-
nologists, collecting test analytic data, monitoring test data, quality control,
preparing reports, and storing test results.
Since information is the principal product produced by the clinical laboratory,
protecting the security and confidentiality of the information is an important require-
ment for a LAB system. Safeguards must be instituted to protect against loss of
information, accidents, computer failures, viruses, and theft of information [226].
Before the development of computer-based clinical support information systems
(CSISs), the communication of orders for laboratory testing from physicians to the
laboratories, and the communication of test results from the laboratories back to
physicians relied on hand-written forms and documents and typed reports. To
replace these error-prone methods, a CSIS needed both computer-based physician
order entry (CPOE) and results reporting (RR) functions that were capable of
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 533
Interpretive reporting, a term of art from journalism, is used to describe the use of
algorithms and computer logic to enhance the value of reports of laboratory test
results. Clinical laboratory (LAB system) test reports typically include four types:
(1) stat reports needed for the immediate care of patients; (2) daily reports of
recently completed tests; (3) cumulative summary reports that provide time-
sequenced trends of laboratory results; and (4) interpretive reports that also include
additional computer-generated content and that constitute an example of computer
based clinical decision support.
The advent of computerized patient records made it feasible to provide computer-
based clinical decision support (CDS) for a variety of purposes: reminders and
alerts; evidence-based practice guidelines; guidelines for drug dosages and warn-
ings about drug-drug interactions and adverse drug effects; and for other applica-
tions to the decision-making process in diagnosis and treatment. Information added
algorithmically to interpretive reports of laboratory tests may include: reference
ranges (normal values) and abnormality flags; guidelines for interpreting test results;
warnings about drug-laboratory test interactions; predictive value calculations for
positive and/or negative test results; recommendations for additional testing for bor-
derline test results; and evidence-based clinical practice guidelines for the use of
test results for diagnosis and treatment for specific clinical problems. Additionally,
interpretive reports may be enhanced by using tables, histograms, flow charts, or
graphs. (For more on decision support systems, see Chap. 17.)
Reference ranges or “normal values” accompanying test results were one of the
earliest forms of clinical decision support provided by the LAB system and other
systems that reported patients’ test results. Reference ranges typically are defined as
test values lying between the 2.5th and 97.5th percentiles in a reference population
that is presumed to be representative of the patient populations that is subsequently
to be tested [207], With the availability of test results from automated laboratory
equipment, the frequency distributions of test results for large numbers of relatively
healthy persons are often used to define “normal” reference values. With the increas-
ing availability of computer-based patient records showing patients’ data over time,
the development of “normal” test values for individuals could be based on trend
analyses of their own prior test values. Such were reported, among others, by Bassis
[22, 23] for Kaiser Permanente Health Plan members in the San Francisco Bay
Area. Cutler [62] reported on the distribution of eight serum chemistry test values for
a large group of adults who had completed two multiphasic health examinations in
a period of 3 years and had received a final diagnosis of “no significant abnormali-
ties.” The test results for these “healthy” persons had lower mean values and smaller
standard deviations than those for a larger mixed group of examinees from the
536 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
general population. Dinio and associates [66] at Perth Amboy General Hospital also
developed reference test values for six age-sex categories of 2,500 hospital employ-
ees and blood donors who were free of overt illness or complaints at the time of
performing 12 tests by a Technicon SMA 12. Reference test values were also devel-
oped by Reece [179] for a large private medical laboratory practice in Minneapolis,
Minnesota, and by Cunnick [61] for a large life insurance population. Connelly [54]
described the use of Monte Carlo simulation techniques to help improve the accu-
racy and value of estimating the reference range of “normal” test values.
McDonald [153] advised that for every clinical laboratory test result for a patient,
the physician must consider whether a change in a current test result from the value
of a prior result could be explained by a change in the patient’s health status, or pos-
sibly by the effect of a patient’s medication, or by some other cause. Clinical labora-
tory test reports usually provided interpretive statements that include a definition of
the test, its normal reference levels, and alert signals for variations from normal
levels or for any unexpected changes in the values from prior test results. Physicians
interpreted laboratory test results that differed from standard reference normal lim-
its as an indication that the patient may have or be developing an abnormal condi-
tion. They then initiated follow up or confirming testing and procedures to help
arrive at a diagnosis, and often ordered follow up tests to monitor and manage the
treatment of disease. Tables, histograms, flowcharts, time-sequenced trend analyses
and other displays showing relationships between multiple test results were used to
assist in interpretation of the test results.
Lindberg and associates [144] at the University of Missouri Medical Center,
Columbia, studied patterns of tests that could be significant even when none of the
individual test values was outside of the normal limits. They studied combinations
of results of four serum chemistry tests: sodium, potassium, chloride, and bicarbon-
ate; and found that decreased sodium and chloride concentrations associated with
normal concentrations of potassium and bicarbonate constituted the most common
abnormal electrolyte pattern seen in hospitalized patients. To supplement their inter-
pretive reporting they developed a computer-based, decision support program called
CONSIDER [136, 138, 217]. Lindberg and associates [143] also developed AI/
COAG, a knowledge-based computer program that analyzed and interpreted blood-
coagulation laboratory studies, either singly or as a group of six laboratory tests that
included: the platelet count, bleeding time, prothrombin time, activated partial-
thromboplastin time, thrombin time, and urea clot solubility. A printout of test
results summarized abnormal findings, and the system provided possible explana-
tions of the abnormalities and provided an interactive consultation mode for users
who wished to see listing of potential diagnoses. Initial evaluation of the system
revealed that more than 90 % of the coagulation studies reported by their laboratory
could be successfully analyzed by the automated consultation system.
Collen and associates at Kaiser Permanente developed decision rules for alerts
that automatically requested an appropriate second set of tests if abnormal labora-
tory test results were reported for an initial group of multiphasic screening tests.
The extension of the use of the computer from the laboratory to the management of
routine periodic health examinations exploited the computer’s potential for
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 537
supporting direct patient care. When a patient’s blood and urine test results were
stored in the computer along with selected physiological measurements obtained at
a multiphasic health testing center, the computer could provide the physician with a
summary report that contained all test results, reference values, alert flags, and
likely diagnoses to be considered [48, 50].
Bleich [29] at the Beth Israel Hospital in Boston described a program written in
the MUMPS language for evaluating a panel of clinical laboratory tests for acid-
base disorders. On entering the test values for serum electrolytes, carbon-dioxide
tension, and hydrogen-ion activity, the computer evaluated the patient’s acid-base
balance, provided alerts for appropriate treatment, and cited relevant references.
Wolf [244] at the University of California, San Diego wrote that the simplest
procedure for computer-aided diagnosis of biochemical test results was a matching
method that first compared the patient’s test results to normal intervals (reference
ranges), and then matched the patient data to test result patterns for 130 diseases in
a computer database. The computer would report the diagnoses that matched, along
with suggested further laboratory work to clarify the patient’s disease status.
Klee and associates [118] at the Mayo Clinic developed a set of decision rules for
a second set of tests to be requested if abnormal test results were reported for an
initial group of blood tests. The patient’s age, sex, Coulter-S hematology test values,
and white cell differential counts were keypunched and were processed with a
FORTRAN program written for a CDC 3600 computer. Patients’ test results that
exceeded normal reference values (standardized by age and sex) were then consid-
ered for further testing. The system was found to work best for identifying patients
with anemia associated with low serum values of vitamin B12 or iron.
Groves [101] at the Medical University of South Carolina developed a computer
program that automatically alerted the physician when a drug ordered for a patient
could interfere with a laboratory test result. Using published information on drug-
test interactions, he compiled a database of the effects of each drug listed in their
formulary on a variety of laboratory tests. When drug codes were entered for medi-
cations prescribed for a patient, the computer program checked for a match between
the prescribed drug and the laboratory tests ordered for the patient, so that an appro-
priate comment could be appended to the report of the test result.
Bull and Korpman [40] pointed out that physicians could handle large amounts
of data most easily and efficiently if the data are presented in the form of a graph.
Williams [238, 240] used normalized radial graphs of multiple test results to allow
rapid recognition by physicians of changes in the shape and skew of the radial
graphs. If all test results were within normal limits, the graph would be a regular
polygon with the sides corresponding to the number of tests reported. Abnormal
test results would distort the polygon and could be displayed with marks indicating
the normal ranges. Williams believed that graphic displays such radial “clock” dia-
grams could greatly enhance the interpretation of the results of multiple tests, and
may also be useful for depicting temporal trends in a series of single or multiple
test results.
Connelly [52] at the University of Minnesota reported that computer-generated
graphical displays for data aggregation and summarization could effectively convey
538 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
for the patient’s medical condition, and whether appropriate clinical laboratory test-
ing was obtained and the results were reviewed in a timely manner. If rules were not
followed within a specified interval, an alert was triggered and a patient-specific
advisory report was printed.
Salwen and Wallach [166], at the S.U.N.Y. Downstate Medical Center in
Brooklyn, devised a series of algorithms for interpreting hematology data and pro-
viding clinical guidelines for the diagnostic evaluation of patients with abnormal
blood counts. Their program classified the patients’ blood counts as normal or
abnormal, and then categorized the patients into diagnostic groups, with recommen-
dations for further testing.
Smith and associates [199] at Ohio State University in Columbus developed a
special language called Conceptual Structure Representation Language (CSRL) to
facilitate interpretive reporting. They proposed that because the concept of disease
hierarchy is well established in medicine in the form of disease classifications, CSRL
diagnostic hierarchies could be defined that contained laboratory test values and
other knowledge about specific diagnoses, against which patients’ test values could
be matched to determine probable diagnoses with associated levels of confidence.
Healy and associates [106] at Dartmouth Medical School used an expert system
as an alternative computer-based approach to interpretive reporting. They defined an
expert system as consisting of a knowledge base of rules, facts and procedures, with
inferencing mechanisms for operating on the knowledge base, and facilities for pro-
viding a detailed explanation for each conclusion reached by the system. They sug-
gested that expert systems could be more flexible and more intuitive than
deterministic or statistically based interpretive systems.
Connelly [53], at the University of Minnesota, advocated embedding expert sys-
tems in the LAB system as a means of detecting important events that should be
reported to clinicians and others. An expert system could automatically look for
suspect results that might indicate a specimen mix-up or analytic error. Important
results and their implications could be brought to the attention of clinicians through
various alerting mechanisms so that critical information would not be overlooked.
He described an approach in which the LAB system would notify the expert system
of all changes in the status of the each laboratory specimen so that an event scanner
in the expert system could look for events that were relevant to pre-stored knowl-
edge frames and pass any appropriate information to the expert system’s inference
processor through instance records. If conditions specified in the knowledge frames
were satisfied, an alert processor would then send a message to a file and/or an out-
put device, such as a printer or display terminal.
Hripcsak and associates [110] at the Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center in
New York City (which had 50,000 hospital admissions and 700,000 outpatient visits
a year) implemented a clinical adverse-event monitoring system. The system auto-
matically generated alert messages for adverse events including abnormal labora-
tory tests and potential adverse drug-drug interactions. The system employed a set
of rules and mechanisms for potential adverse clinical events; queried and checked
any rules generated by the event against their rule-knowledge base; and, if indi-
cated, triggered a pertinent alert message.
540 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
The earliest LAB subsystems were developed for the clinical chemistry and the
hematology and clinical microscopy laboratories. Because clinical chemistry lent
itself readily to both instrumental automation and the processing of digital test
results, more was accomplished early in the automation of operations in clinical
chemistry than in other areas of the clinical laboratories [38]. As computers became
more powerful and computer power became more affordable, LAB systems were
developed for the microbiology, immunology (serology) and surgical pathology
laboratories, which required the processing of text-based results. As LAB system
software became more sophisticated, and computer processing power and data stor-
age capabilities continued to increase, LAB subsystems were developed for other
areas such flow cytometry, radioimmunoassay, gas chromatography, blood bank,
genetic and molecular testing, and other LAB subspecialties.
12.5.1 Chemistry
The clinical chemistry laboratory applies the many technologies of chemistry to the
analysis of human body fluids and other patient materials. In the early days, colori-
metric methods involved the addition of chemical reagents to patient specimens
with the intensity of the resulting color reactions compared to a set of standards. As
the clinical chemistry laboratory advanced, multiple methods from inorganic,
organic, and physical chemistry, as well as other quantitative techniques, were
applied to the analysis of patient specimens. In addition to processing all the data
from the chemical analyses, the chemistry LAB subsystem also had to provide the
data processing functions described above, including processing of test requisitions,
monitoring the analytic processes for quality control, providing data quality control
including checks for values outside of normal reference limits, collecting and inte-
grating the data from multiple instruments, reporting test results, maintaining a
computer-stored database of its internal activities, and transferring the test results
into the patients’ medical records.
A key event in the history of the clinical chemistry laboratory was the invention
in 1957 of an automated chemistry analyzer by Skeggs [195, 196] at the Veterans
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 541
Administration (VA) Hospital in Cleveland, Ohio. A serum sample was fed into one
side of the analyzer, while precise quantities of reagents were added into the system
by means of a peristaltic proportioning pump that also introduced air bubbles to
separate the specimens as they flowed through long, flexible tubes. The reagents
produced color changes that were measurable by a colorimeter; and the resultant
signals were recorded on a moving strip chart as voltage peaks that represented the
percent transmission. In 1959, using Skeggs’ invention, Technicon Corporation in
Tarrytown, New York, began marketing single-channel AutoAnalyzers. In 1967 the
first multi-channel Technicon AutoAnalyzer was developed under contract with
Kaiser Permanente’s multiphasic health testing program, which performed eight
blood chemistry tests on each patient’s sample: albumin, calcium, cholesterol, cre-
atinine, glucose, serum transaminase (SGOT), total protein, and uric acid [46].
Bioengineers at Kaiser Permanente connected the analog signals to an analog-to-
digital voltmeter-recorder, which read the voltage peaks from the colorimeter; and
punched the converted digitized test values into cards. The punched cards were then
read into a computer, and the data were collated with the patient’s other multiphasic
test data [44]. In 1967, Technicon introduced its Sequential Multiple Analyzer
(SMA) 12/60 that performed 12 different chemistry tests at the rate of 60 tests per-
hour, with the time from aspiration of a sample to the finished chart-graph totaling
8 min. The SMA 12/60 came with a reader attached to the specimen sampler that
read the sample-identification number from a specimen tab and printed both the
number and the test results directly on to the strip-chart record [204]. Coutts and
associates [60] at the VA Hospital in Los Angeles reported the use of an expanded
Technicon SMA/16 that performed 16 different tests on the same sample at the rate
of 30 tests per hour.
Technicon also marketed a second system that consisted of a combination of
single and multiple-channel Technicon AutoAnalyzers and a minicomputer with 4K
of memory, an eight-channel multiplexer, an analog-to-digital converter, a paper
tape or punched card reader to input patient identification data, and a keyboard to
enter the tasks to be performed and to enable retrieval of stat reports. In 1972,
Technicon Corporation added a computer to its SMA system, called the SMAC
(Sequential Multiple Analyzer plus Computer), that identified samples automati-
cally, calibrated each testing channel, and calculated and reported test results. In
1973, a more advanced computer system provided process control, monitoring,
analyzing, and collating that were performed on 20 or more chemistry analyses per
sample at the rate of 150 samples per hour [4]. In 1974, the SMAC offered 21 dif-
ferent chemical analyses, and soon after added 4 more analyses [206]. In 1977, the
Technicon SMA II system appeared with a computer control system for continuous
curve-monitoring, automatic calibration, more flexible data output, and a built-in
quality control program [126]. Bronzino [36] considered the Technicon SMAC to
be an excellent example of a computerized laboratory instrument.
In the 1960s, Seligson and associates [189] at Yale University developed auto-
mated chemistry analytical instruments that performed uric acid, creatinine, or
phosphate measurements on blood serum filtrates at the rate of 120 samples per
hour. Automatic specimen identification was performed by a card reader at the same
542 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
time that photometric readings were being on the sample. Other automated instru-
ments measured plasma glucose and urea simultaneously at the rate of 90 samples
per hour; and a flame photometer measured sodium and potassium at the rate of 120
samples per hour. Test results were punched into cards, which were read by a card
reader and entered offline into a computer that then generated a variety of reports.
The LINC (Laboratory INstrument Computer) minicomputer was specifically
designed for use in a laboratory environment [42]; and was used in a number of
LAB systems. Evenson [80] at the University of Wisconsin in Madison used the
LINC in their clinical chemistry department to process test results for their Technicon
SMA 12 AutoAnalyzer. Their LINC had 16 separate channels capable of accepting
instrument signals to perform online monitoring, magnetic tape storage, and a
cathode-ray-tube display monitor.
In 1967, Barnett and Hoffman [15] developed a LAB system for the clinical
chemistry laboratory at the Massachusetts General Hospital, which routinely pro-
cessed about 1,500 test requests a day. A few months after its introduction, this LAB
system had completely replaced the laboratory’s previous manual processing sys-
tem. A clerk would type the patient’s identification number and the tests requested
into a Teletype terminal, and the computer then generated the appropriate work lists
for the laboratory staff. As the lab tests were completed, technicians entered the
results onto work sheets and then transcribed them into the computer. The system
used a DEC PDP-9 computer and was developed using the MUMPS operating sys-
tem and programming language, and was later enhanced to provide direct connec-
tions to the chemistry instruments (AutoAnalyzers) to capture data and generate
reports of the test results.
In the second half of the 1960s, mechanized semi-automated and fully automated
chemistry instrumentation began to replace the prior manual methods for sampling,
carrying out chemical reactions, and reporting the test results. Because clinical
chemistry lent itself readily to both instrumental automation and the processing of
digital test results, more was accomplished early in the automation of operations in
clinical chemistry than in other areas of the clinical laboratories [38]. By the late
1960s, several automated analyzers were marketed in the US for chemical analyses
of blood samples and were linked to a variety of computers – from minicomputers
to mainframes. During the 1970s, the Technicon AutoAnalyzer was the most com-
monly used automated chemical analyzer in the United States. Ball [8–13] described
other commercial chemistry LAB systems available in the United States in the early
1970s, all of which could interface to a variety of automated chemical analyzers.
Berkeley Scientific Laboratories [38] offered four different versions of their
CLINDATA Mark II series, the smallest of which employed a PDP-8/L minicom-
puter. Digital Equipment Corporation’s Clinical Lab-12 System employed a DEC
PDP-12 computer. Diversified Numeric Applications (DNA) Automated Clinical
Laboratory System (ACL) used a Raytheon 703 computer.
In 1970, the AGA AutoChemist, made in Sweden for large-scale analyses, used
a PDP-8 or PDP-12 minicomputer and was introduced in the United States for the
Kaiser Permanente’s multiphasic health testing program in Oakland, California
[49]. (See Chap. 16.) It used discrete sample analyses, employing a system of pneu-
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 543
matically operated syringes that transferred blood serum samples and dispensed
appropriate chemical solutions into separate reaction vessels. The analyzer then
mixed, conveyed, pooled, read, and transmitted the electrical test readings to a com-
puter, which calculated the final test results. It could process 100–300 specimens
per hour; and could generate results for 24-test channel chemical analysis of serum
specimens at a rate of 140 samples per hour [204].
In 1970, the DuPont Automatic Clinical Analyzer (ACA), made in Wilmington,
Delaware, was introduced for the routine chemistry laboratory. The ACA was an
easy-to-use discrete sample analyzer in which all reagents needed to perform a test
on a specimen were contained in a single plastic reagent pack. The operator simply
loaded the instrument with the appropriate test packs for the tests to be performed
on a patient’s specimen, and the instrument automatically processed the specimen,
doing all the tests indicated by the test packs loaded with the specimen. The com-
puter analyzed the results of the testing and printed a report with of the test results
along with the patient’s identification. The ACA was capable of performing 30 dif-
ferent chemistry tests, and was controlled by a special-purpose, built-in solid-state
computer.
The General Medical Services-Atomic Energy Commission (GemSAEC) device,
made in Fairfield, New Jersey, by Electro-Nucleonics, Inc. employed a new concept
of using centrifugal force to mix samples and reagents, to sediment particulate mat-
ter, and separate liquid phases. With an interface to an external computer, it per-
formed rapid photometric analyses of discrete micro-samples at the rate of 120 per
hour [49].
In the 1970s, Kassirer and associates [116] at Tufts University School of
Medicine in Boston described an automated system for processing data in their
metabolic balance laboratory that included ten different AutoAnalyzer blood chem-
istry tests and several non-AutoAnalyzer tests. Their system converted the output of
the AutoAnalyzers into digital form, carried out quality control operations, and
printed out reports of the metabolic balance studies. They found that the system
approximately doubled the productivity of the laboratory, and produced savings in
personnel and in other costs.
Collen and associates [51] at Kaiser Permanente reported the dollar cost-per-
positive laboratory test in a large health testing program; and Talamo and associates
[218] at Montefiore Hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, described a microcom-
puter-based system for interpretive reporting of enzyme studies in patients who had
an acute myocardial infarction. Their reports included a graphic display of up to 12
blood enzyme test values, with diagnostic interpretive statements that provided use-
ful information to cardiologists.
In the 1970s, other early automated analyzers included the Perkin-Elmer C4
Automatic Analyzer that was made in Norwalk, Connecticut, and was interfaced to
an external computer. The Vickers Multichannel 300 was made in the United
Kingdom, and used a PDP-8L computer as a controller for the chemical processes,
with analog-to-digital conversion of test results, and output by Teletype printers.
The Bausch and Lomb Zymat model 340 Enzyme Analyzer performed automatic
analyses of enzymes in biological fluids, including lactic dehydrogenase (LDH),
544 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
12.5.2 Hematology
acquisition and result-reporting needs than did the chemistry laboratory as the
hematology laboratory had to accommodate non-numeric descriptive results. In the
1960s, hematology data-processing systems used punched cards for storing data;
and used unit-record equipment for sorting and counting the punched cards and for
printing out data. In the late 1960s, computers began to be used to process data from
punched cards or from punched paper tape, and several automated blood-cell coun-
ters became available in the United States.
In 1965, the first Technicon AutoAnalyzer Cell Counter was used for the simul-
taneous determination of white and red cell counts and blood hemoglobin concen-
trations. Soon afterwards the Technicon Sequential Multiple Analyzer (SMA) 4A
appeared and counted red and white blood cells from a 1 ml sample of whole blood,
and measured the value of blood hemoglobin and the hematocrit (a measure of the
packed-cell volume of the blood). The AutoAnalyzer split the blood sample into four
streams. Following an automatic dilution of the white cell stream from which the red
cells had been removed by a hemolysis step, the white cells entered the flow cell of
the counter module, where the white cells deflected a light beam around a dark-field
disc, and the deflections were registered electronically. Similarly, the red blood cell
stream entered a separate flow cell, and the same electronic counting principle was
employed. In a third stream, hemoglobin was converted the more stable cyanmethe-
moglobin, and the resulting color intensity was measured in a colorimeter. The
Technicon SMA cell counter used continuous flow methods similar to those used in
its chemistry AutoAnalyzer. The hematocrit was measured in the fourth stream by a
“conductivity bridge” that made use of the differences in conductivity of the red
cells and the free ions in the plasma, and the hematocrit could be estimated because
the red cell conductivity was directly proportional to the red cell mass. Analog data
from a strip-chart recorder was converted by an analog-to-digital converter that pro-
vided digital input to the computer [176]. The SMA 7A automated cell analyzer that
soon followed added three red blood cell (corpuscle) indices (mean corpuscular vol-
ume, mean corpuscular hemoglobin, and mean corpuscular hemoglobin concentra-
tion), which were automatically calculated from the other four blood-cell test values.
By the end of the 1960s, it was reported that 60–80 % of the workload in a large
hematology laboratory could be handled efficiently and rapidly, with increased
accuracy and reliability by commercially available hematology analyzers [38].
In 1971, Technicon’s Hemalog system was introduced, which differed from
Technicon’s SMA cell analyzers as the Hemalog system had parallel analyzers with
two hydraulic pumps (one blood sample pumps that delivered paired samples for
each patient, and one chemical reagent pump), a multi-channel optical system with
four detectors and dedicated channels for each parameter. The Hemalog system
provided a hematocrit determination using an automatic packed-cell volume centri-
fuge. All test parameters were measured simultaneously and were processed by a
digital control system, with data output on an attached printer. The system could
perform ten tests simultaneously from two anti-coagulated specimens of whole
blood, including red and white cell counts, hemoglobin, packed-cell volume by
micro-hematocrit and conductivity, platelet count, prothrombin time, partial throm-
boplastin time, and the three red blood cell indices [92, 237].
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 547
During the 1970s, the most widely used automated hematology instrument was
the Coulter Counter Model S, made by Coulter Electronics in Hialeah, Florida. The
Coulter Model S counted and measured the sizes of individual blood cells by using
the difference in electrical impedance (conductivity) between blood cells and a
diluting fluid in which the cells were suspended. The instrument aspirated blood cell
suspensions through a 100-μ diameter aperture across which a voltage was applied.
The small voltage spikes generated as individual cells passed through the aperture
were measured, and the heights of the voltage spikes could be used to determine the
relative cell sizes. The Coulter Counter Model S also measured the hemoglobin
concentration of each sample, and automatically calculated three red blood indices:
mean corpuscular [cell] volume (MCV), mean corpuscular hemoglobin (MCH), and
mean corpuscular hemoglobin concentration (MCHC). Test results were printed out
on a small dedicated printer, and could be read into a remote computer in digital
format [38].
Dutcher and associates [70] at the William Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak,
Michigan, reported using a computer program developed in the Clinical Pathology
Department at the NIH Clinical Center to compare the Coulter Counter Model S and
the Technicon SMA-7A hematology analyzers. They found that precision of each
instrument was equal to, or better than, the precision of laboratory technologists,
and they noted that improvements were already being made to new versions of both
instruments.
The manual (visual) white blood cell differential count involves spreading a drop
of blood on a glass slide and staining the blood smear with a stain that reveals the
white blood cells’ internal granules, and then using a microscope to visually iden-
tify and count the proportion of neutrophils, basophils, eosinophils, lymphocytes,
monocytes, platelets, and any abnormal cells present, such as might be found in
patients with leukemia. Training a laboratory technologist to correctly identify and
count the different blood cells in a stained s blood smear usually took several
months; therefore, to develop a machine that could do this automatically was a truly
remarkable achievement. In the early 1970s, an electronic cell pattern-recognition
instrument called Hematrak was developed by the Geometric Data Corporation in
Wayne, Pennsylvania. As described by Dutcher and associates [71], the basic com-
ponents of the Hematrak were a microscope, a pre-programmed electronic
pattern-recognition system, a monochrome television monitor, a keyboard for data
input by the operator, and a printer. The images formed by the microscope were
converted to electronic signals by a slide scanner, and were then processed by a
color analyzer that split the images into three color channels. The resulting color
information was used to “electronically lyse” the red blood cells in the images of the
blood smears, leaving only the images of the nucleated white blood cells. The
images of the nucleated cells were then digitized and passed to a morphologic pat-
tern-recognition program, where parameters such as cell nuclear shape, chromatin
pattern, granularity, nuclear-to-cytoplasm ratio, and color values were used by the
pattern-recognition program to identified individual white blood cell types on the
basis of the morphologic characteristics. The Hematrak was able to identify normal
white blood cells with an accuracy that compared favorably with the standard
548 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
manual method [25], but was less reliable in identifying abnormal blood cells
because of their variability – which was also a common problem for trained hema-
tologists [72].
Ansley and Ornstein [5] described Technicon’s Hemalog D, a multichannel flow
analyzer for counting white blood cells subtypes based on cell size and cytochemi-
cal reactions. Identifying the white blood cell subtypes was possible because of the
variety of intracellular enzymes that permitted distinctive cytochemical staining of
the white cell subtypes. Dyes and cytochemical reagents stained the white cell
nuclei and the specific granules in the neutrophils, basophils, eosinophils, lympho-
cytes, and monocytes. Suspensions of stained cells could then be they counted by
photometric counters that could differentiate the white cell subtypes by their stain-
ing reactions and could count large numbers of cells – typically 10,000 per flow-
analysis channel, which provided improved precision of counting. The instrument
was reported to be relatively easy to operate; however, as many as 20 % of blood
specimens needed further examinations by the technologist using traditional blood
smears [65].
Arkin and associates [6] at the New England Deaconess Hospital in Boston,
described the Corning LARC (Leukocyte Automatic Recognition Computer) Analyzer
that used a “spinner” to prepare the blood slides by spreading blood on a standard
glass microscope slide, which was then fixed and stained by an automatic slide stainer.
The LARC Analyzer determined the characteristic morphologic features of the white
blood cells (leukocytes), and classified them by processing their digital images. Slides
with abnormal cells were physically sorted so that they could be reviewed by a tech-
nologist. A comparison of the results from the LARC Analyzer with those of a group
of medical technologists revealed that the LARC Analyzer results were often more
reproducible than those of the technologists; and that all known cases of leukemia in
their study population had been detected by the LARC Analyzer.
Haug and associates [105] compared the Technicon Hemalog D automated cyto-
chemical white blood cell differential counter, which counted 10,000 cells at the
rate of 60 samples per hour, with the Corning LARC Differential Analyzer, which
used a slide spinner for preparing blood smears, and counted 100, 200, or 500 white
cells using a computer pattern recognition program. They concluded that the most
significant difference between the two systems was analytic precision, which was a
function of the differences in the numbers of cells counted.
Rosvoll and associates [183] in Atlanta, Georgia, reported a study comparing
three automated differential cell counters: Technicon’s Hemalog D, which used
cytochemical methods; Corning’s LARC, which used a pattern recognition system;
and the Geometric Data Hematrak, which also used a pattern-recognition system
and counted from 50 to 800 cells. They reported that all three instruments showed
acceptable accuracy and flagged abnormal results for review, and that the Hemalog
D exhibited the greatest analytic precision.
Schoentag and Pedersen [187] at the New York Veterans Hospital described the
Perkin-Elmer Corporation’s Diff3 System, which used computer pattern-recognition
technology to automatically identify and count white blood cells into ten categories,
and also evaluated red cell morphology and performed platelet counts. The system
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 549
used a blood smear spinner and a stainer; and the stained slides were loaded into an
analyzer that included microscope with a motorized stage. The images produced by
the microscope were processed by a photodetector system that isolated the cell
images on the slide, which were then scanned by a video camera and digitized for
processing by an image-analyzing computer. Upon completion of a differential
count of 100 white blood cells, a report was automatically printed. The flagging of
abnormal white blood cells by the instrument was reported to be comparable in
sensitivity to that of the laboratory technologists; however, the analytic specificity
was less, so that a significant number of false positives were seen.
Allen and Batjer [2] at the University of Washington, Seattle, evaluated the
Coulter S-Plus IV that distinguished and classified white blood cells as lympho-
cytes, large mononuclear cells, and granulocytes by cell volume after treatment with
a special reagent. The instrument also performed a total white cell count, red cell
count, and platelet count; and measured the hemoglobin concentration and calcu-
lated the hematocrit value and the red cell indices. They concluded that the useful-
ness of the instrument would be limited to that of a screening tool for identifying
slides needing a morphologist’s review.
Bollinger and associates [33] at the University of Texas, M.D. Anderson Hospital
reported on a later version of Technicon’s automated hematology analyzer, the
Technicon H*1. It performed white blood cell, red blood cell and platelet counts;
and provided hemoglobin and hematocrit values, and red blood cell indices. The
system also provided a white cell differential count and was reported to have excel-
lent performance characteristics.
Bates and Bessman [24] at the University of Texas Medical Branch at Galveston
used a commercial microcomputer program, BCDE: Blood Count and Differential
Evaluation, developed by Island Analytics, Galveston, and written in BASIC on an
IBM-PC, to analyze automated blood cell counts and differential leukocyte counts
performed on a Coulter Counter S-Plus II-VI. This analytic program was found to
be useful for both triaging normal from abnormal hematologic data and for the ini-
tial analysis of abnormal data. McClure and associates [150], also at this university,
used this microcomputer program to initiate a policy of not performing a manual
microscopic evaluation of every blood specimen for which a blood count was done.
They proposed that since normal blood counts were associated with few clinically
important blood-smear abnormalities, an automated program might be useful for
triaging blood counts and deciding whether a blood smear needed to be examined.
They used the BCDE program to analyze the automated blood cell counts, and per-
formed a manual white-cell differential count only if the specimen had blood cell
counts from an automated cell counter that were abnormal to a stipulated degree –
the so-called the “diff-if” strategy. They reported that for a population of subjects
with a high percentage of hematologic disorders, the diagnostic specificity of the
microcomputer program was comparable to visual examination of a blood smear in
identifying hematologic abnormalities; however, it was more sensitive in predicting
blood smear abnormalities and thus caused more blood smears to be examined and
more manual differential cell counts to be performed. Similarly, in a population of
predominantly normal subjects, the program was more sensitive in identifying ele-
550 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
vated eosinophil counts and the presence of immature leukocytes (band cells). They
concluded that the triage strategy for visual differential blood counts should be
based on the laboratory’s patient population.
Krause [119] at the University of Pittsburgh, reviewed the status of automated
white blood cell differential counters in 1990; and concluded that the then current
state-of-the-art instruments gave results equal to or better than routine manual dif-
ferential counts; they could better screen for significant abnormalities; and they
greatly reduced the time and expense of manual procedures. In the 1990s and 2000s
advanced blood cell identifiers and counters were developed by several vendors.
Bone marrow smears were also evaluated using computer-based approaches.
Wolf and associates [245] at Stanford University Medical Center developed a com-
puter program called DIRAC (DIRectACess) to store, retrieve, and analyze bone
marrow examination reports. Yountness and Drewinko [248] at the University of
Texas and the MD Anderson Hospital in Houston, also reported an early computer-
based system for entering and reporting results of bone marrow examinations. They
developed a specialized keyboard that was labeled with descriptive terms for the
various cells. The differential cell count was performed by a technologist using the
keyboard, and the computer registered the accumulation of cells. When 100 nucle-
ated cells were classified, the display monitor emitted an audio sound and displayed
the differential cell count.
Red blood cell typing is a procedure routinely performed on blood donors, and is
also performed by blood banks on blood transfusion recipients. Taswell and associ-
ates [219] at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, reported they had used a
15-channel Technicon AutoAnalyzer for routine ABO-Rh blood typing of patients
since 1968. This continuous flow AutoAnalyzer mixed red blood cells from the
patient with reagent antisera, and plasma from the patient’s blood sample with
reagent red cells. When a patient’s red cells were agglutinated by a given antiserum
it was called a positive direct reaction, and the agglutination of reagent cells by the
patient’s plasma was called a positive indirect reaction. In each case, the aggluti-
nated red blood cells were seen as red spots on filter paper. Weant [233], at the
American National Red Cross Blood Center in Huntington, West Virginia, described
their evaluation of the Technicon BG 9, a nine-channel, automated blood grouping
system that required less space and performed all the tests for the ABO and Rh
groups with the same accuracy. It used a sampler that held 40 blood samples and
operated at a rate of 120 samples per hour. It had two proportioning pumps, a five-
channel manifold, and a five-channel filter unit. Centrifuged anticoagulated blood
samples were placed in the sample tray, and the cells and plasma were aspirated by
two different probes. The system then suspended the blood cells in a bromelin
enzyme solution that exposed additional antigen sites for reaction with reagent anti-
bodies. Cells were subsequently mixed with antisera in four channel for anti-A,
anti-B, anti-A,B, anti-D, with an additional blank control channel. The bromelin-
treated cells agglutinated with the antisera, indicating a positive reactions, or
remained as free cell suspensions when the reaction was negative. The reacted
materials were then diluted with saline and passed through a settling tube, decanted,
and deposited on moving filter paper. The plasma from the samples was split, tested
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 551
against known red cell suspensions (A cells, B cells, and Group O cells); and finally
decanted and deposited on to filter paper. Weant reported that a comparison of the
automated results with parallel manual test results produced agreement in all
instances; and the system was more reliable and less expensive than manual
methods.
In 1985, Smith and associates [201] at Ohio State University reported a computer
program called RED, which interpreted data related to red cell antibody identifica-
tion. They described the surface of a red cell as having specific antigens that are
detectable by the reactivity of the cell with antibodies corresponding to the antigen.
Human red blood cells are classified as type A, B, AB, or O on the basis of the pres-
ence or absence of A and B on the surface of the red cells, and the presence of
reciprocal antibodies in the patient’s serum. A person of blood group A normally
has anti-B antibodies in his serum; a group B person normally has anti-A; a group
O person has both anti-A and anti-B; and a group AB person exhibits neither. When
the immune system of a blood transfusion recipient recognizes the antigen as for-
eign to the recipient’s system, the body’s immune system sets about to destroy the
antigen by developing antibodies in the serum of the recipient patient to destroy all
the red cells possessing the antigen against which the antibody is directed; and the
result is defined as a blood transfusion reaction. It is important to detect and identify
these antibodies in the patient’s serum before a blood transfusion is given by deter-
mining the patient’s ABO blood group. In addition to the ABO antigens, more than
300 red cell antigens have been identified, so red cell antibody identification requires
screening a patient’s serum for antibodies by testing it with red cells containing
selected common red cell antigens. This process is a complex one, and Smith’s RED
program provided a series of rules to help interpret data concerning antibodies
against cell components important in transfusions [200].
Sterling [215] also developed a computer program written in BASIC for an IBM
personal computer to assist in the analysis of commercial reagent red blood cell
panels designed to detect “atypical” antibodies in patients’ sera. The usual manual
method for analyzing the data for these antibody panels involves “ruling out” or
excluding a specific antibody when the corresponding antigen was present on a non-
reacting cell in the panel. It was assumed that if the antibody was present in the
patient’s blood, agglutination or hemolysis would occur when the serum was mixed
with red blood cells containing the corresponding antigen. In the system reported by
Sterling, each red cell panel was represented as a matrix, with each element in the
matrix representing a single red blood cell antigen. A selected red cell panel, along
with the corresponding reactions from the patient’s serum, was displayed on a mon-
itor, and the possible antibody patterns were highlighted. A panel interpretation was
then printed that included a list of possible non-excluded antibodies, a probability
level of identification for each possible antibody, and a table of antibody character-
istics to aid in the differentiation among the possible antibodies.
Blood platelets play an important role in blood coagulation; and platelet counts
and platelet aggregation studies are used in the investigation of bleeding and clotting
disorders. Upton [227] described the first automated blood platelet counter, which
used the Technicon AutoAnalyzer technology. A whole blood sample was aspirated
552 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
from a cup containing a diluent that had been automatically agitated to cause hemo-
lysis of the red blood cells. After passing through a mixing coil and an additional
dilution step, the platelets were enumerated by a cell counter. Neeley [165] used a
Coulter Counter to count platelets in a sample of blood plasma. Simmons and asso-
ciates [187] also used a modified Coulter Counter to count platelets; and after com-
paring results with those obtained using a Technicon AutoAnalyzer, they concluded
that the Technicon instrument was more accurate. McHenry [158] coupled
Technicon’s Hemalog D automated white cell differential analyzer to a Technicon
AutoCounter Instrument. A sample of whole blood was aspirated into a segment of
plastic tubing, allowing the red cells to settle out. The plasma was then pipetted into
a diluent, and was transferred to a particle counter that counted the platelets.
Dayhoff and associates [63] described an instrument to measure platelet aggre-
gation, a physiologic process that occurs in vivo to stop bleeding by plugging small
gaps in blood vessel walls, but may also contribute to blood clot formation in larger
vessels such as occurs in coronary artery thrombosis. They used a TEXAC (TEXture
Analysis Computer) whole picture image analyzer that identified and counted
clumps of platelets.
Connelly et al. [55] at the University of Minnesota reported on an Expert System
for Platelet Request Evaluation (ESPRE) that they had been developing since 1984
to assist physicians in determining the appropriateness of platelet transfusions.
Platelet transfusions may be vital for hemostasis in critically ill patients, but they
also pose risks of transfusion reactions. When ESPRE received a request for a plate-
let transfusion, it automatically acquired key laboratory findings from the LAB sys-
tem and requested any necessary clinical information. It then provided a critique of
the proposed transfusion plan with an explicit list of all platelet transfusion criteria
satisfied and/or evaluated. A formal evaluation of ESPRE showed agreement with
blood bank consultants’ recommendations in 93 % of a group of 75 platelet transfu-
sion requests.
In the late 1960s and early 1970s, other LAB systems that were designed to pro-
cess hematology data included the LAB systems at the NIH Clinical Center, the
University of Missouri at Columbia, the University of Wisconsin, the University of
Alabama, Yale University, Massachusetts General Hospital, and Kaiser Permanente
in San Francisco. Commercial LAB systems with hematology subsystems included
the Berkeley Scientific Laboratories (BSL) CLINDATA system, which used a
PDP-8 computer and was developed at the University of California, San Francisco
with support from the NIH; and the Spear system [38].
By the late 1970s, almost all large clinical laboratories used automated hematol-
ogy instruments linked to computerized LAB systems [69]. Lincoln [133] observed
that blood counting tasks historically performed exclusively by the pathologist,
and later by technologists trained to follow certain rules could now be performed
using rules programmed into cell counting machines. In the 1980s and after,
computer-based LAB systems continued to be improved in variety, accuracy, and
efficiency; and in addition to interpretive reporting, began to add clinical decision
support programs to assist with the diagnoses of anemias and other blood diseases
[27, 31, 168].
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 553
12.5.3 Microbiology
Microbiology reports often require a large amount of descriptive text rather than
numeric data, and because the processing of microbiology specimens may require
several days or weeks before final results are available, interim reports may be
needed to provide clinicians with the most current information about a specimen in
process [147]. Handwritten or dictated narrative reports were often used in microbi-
ology, and were keyed into the computer using a full-alphabetic keyboard, or by
selecting codes or names for standard terms or phrases using special keyboards
[241]. Computerization of descriptive test results, such as microbiology results, was
typically more difficult than in chemistry or hematology, as microbiology results
often require extensive English-text descriptions, and there may be several thou-
sands of unique microorganism names. Early microbiology computer systems usu-
ally were one of two types, either having been developed primarily for
computer-assisted identification of microorganisms, or for computerization of labo-
ratory records and reports.
As early as 1958, Cordle and Boltjes [59] at the Medical College of South Carolina
in Charleston began using IBM data processing equipment in their microbiology
department to provide a daily laboratory control program. They used special coding
schemes for specimen types and microorganisms, and 80-column punch cards for
data processing. A set of cards was prepared for each specimen, and was punched
with the digital code and the alphanumeric name of the specimen. The cards were
then punched with the digital codes for the organisms isolated, along with the names
of the microorganisms and results for other tests, which were entered as alphabetical
information. At the end of the day, the cards were sorted to provide laboratory con-
trol and microbial disease survey information. Periodically the cards were sorted by
date and an IBM 101 statistical machine was used to print out reports [59].
Lindberg and Reed [141] at the University of Missouri, Columbia, reported their
use of a photometric device to record the rate of bacterial growth in cultures.
Because it usually required a 24-h in vitro incubation of bacterial cultures before the
human eye was able to see visible turbidity, the use of a photometer to periodically
measure light passing through the liquid culture medium permitted an earlier detec-
tion of bacterial growth. The output voltage of the photometer was read periodically
by a digital voltmeter that permitted the bacterial growth curve to be plotted. An
IBM 1620 computer was used to manipulate the data to provide final bacterial
growth rate curves.
In the 1970s, published reports described a variety of computerized systems for
clinical microbiology. Vermeulen and associates [229] at the US Public Health
Services Hospital in Baltimore described their microbiology system in which speci-
mens types, microorganism names, test results, and other relevant data were all
encoded. Using the laboratory’s Teletype facilities, culture results were punched
into paper tape and were transmitted to the computer center. They rented computer
time on an IBM 7094 computer for reading the data on the punched paper tape, and
time on an IBM 1401 for printing the final reports.
554 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
Friedman and associates [85] at the Clinical Center at the National Institutes of
Health developed a computer program written in FORTRAN for a Control Data
Corporation (CDC) 3300 computer to assist in the identification of dextrose-
fermenting gram-negative bacteria isolated from clinical specimens. Using data
from a year’s experience from their laboratory in identifying organisms, they com-
piled a database of 38 tests most frequently used to identify 34 species of bacteria.
The program then used a Bayesian probability formula that selected the most likely
organism identification, and suggested additional tests that would help in further
differentiating unknown bacteria. When they entered a patient’s test results for an
unknown specimen, the computer would retrieve the relevant probabilities from the
database, and using a modified Bayes theorem (that assumed the same prior preva-
lence probabilities for all species), would compute the score from zero to one of the
likelihood that each species in the database represented the identity of the unknown
organism. The program then selected the species with the highest score as the most
likely identification. In their laboratory, the program correctly identified the
unknown bacteria in 99 % of cases.
In 1975 Jorgensen and associates [113] at the University of Texas Health Science
Center described a computerized online microbiology record-keeping system for
their annual load of approximately 100,000 culture specimens. Their goal was to
promote more efficient handling of culture results within the laboratory, to provide
more timely reports to the patient care areas in the hospital, and to provide an easily
accessible database for use in producing laboratory statistics. They used cathode ray
tube (CRT) displays for data entry and for entering culture results. CRT displays
were also available in various patient care and administrative areas of the hospital
for online inquiry of patients’ culture reports. They used 15 screen formats designed
to include the most common types of specimens, including blood, cerebrospinal
fluid, other body fluids and tissues, throat cultures, urine, feces, and other speci-
mens, as well as mycobacterial smears and cultures. The computer generated daily
work lists, daily preliminary and activity reports, weekly cumulative reports, several
special quality-control reports, and daily epidemiology reports for use by the
Hospital Infection Control Coordinator. The computer also generated patient billing
and accounting information. They used a central Burroughs 4771 computer that was
shared by other hospital departments.
Lewis and Marr [128] at the Washington University School of Medicine and
Barnes Hospital in St. Louis described their computer-assisted method for identify-
ing enteric bacteria. They developed a FORTRAN program called MICROAPI that
used a Bayesian statistical calculation to assist in identifying the organisms; how-
ever, it agreed with the technologists’ organism identifications in only a few percent
of cases.
Lupovitch and associates [147] at Holy Cross Hospital in Detroit, Michigan
described their conversion of a manual reporting system to a computerized system
for reports for their microbiology laboratory, which processed 9,000 specimens per
year. They maintained similar report formats and updating sequences so that one
system could back-up the other. They used a Hewlett-Packard programmable calcu-
lator (Model 9830) with 8K core memory, 2.5 megabytes disk memory, a line
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 555
printer, and a mark-sense card reader, with programs to read the mark-sense cards
written in BASIC. Observations and test results were recorded by technologists by
marking the appropriate rows and columns in a series of mark-sense cards that con-
tained both the patient’s identification number and the specimen’s unique number.
Comments were entered from the data card using a stored dictionary of phrases that
corresponded to the card column markings. Antibiotic sensitivity data and similar
data could be added where appropriate. Sets of cards were collated and printed daily
and when needed. They reported that the main advantage of their new system was
the improved quality and ease of providing cumulative reports.
In the late 1970s, Eggert and associates [73] at the University of Wisconsin
reported that they had developed a microbiology subsystem using a customized ver-
sion of the LABCOM commercial LAB system from Laboratory Consulting, Inc.,
in Madison, Wisconsin, The system used a Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC)
PDP 11/84 computer, visual-display terminals, teletypewriters and line printers that
were connected with the main clinical laboratory computer, which was interfaced to
the central hospital computer. This subsystem involved several programs written for
microbiology. The Requisition Entry program was used to select and enter data
from an array of microbiology specimen types, and test requests such as cultures,
special stains, and others. The Enter Cultures program permitted the user to select
and enter results for isolates from an array of options, including organism names,
colony counts, comments, and antibiotic susceptibility results. One could enter
numeric values, coded English, or free-text modifiers as results. Tracking the prog-
ress of the tests-in-process was supported, and finalized results of cultures were
easily displayed and printed. A Microbiology Log program permitted selective
reporting of the tests performed and results entered for a patient.
Hospital acquired infections, also known as nosocomial infections, represent a
frequent and important type of adverse event in hospitals and involve the microbiol-
ogy laboratory in multiple ways. Before the advent of hospital information systems
(HISs), rates of hospital-acquired infections were generally determined from the
diagnoses and notes documented in paper-based medical records. The audit proce-
dures for programs such as those developed by the Professional Standards Review
Organization (PSRO) and physician Peer Review Organization (PRO) relied on
manual chart reviews by nurses with follow-up physician reviews of suspected
cases. An alternative approach was to monitor laboratory microbiology reports for
positive infectious organisms.
Automated infection surveillance systems began to become operational in the
early 1970s, such as the one reported by Greenhalgh and Mulholland [98] at the
Graduate Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania. Their system integrated the
clinical microbiology laboratory’s results with other patient data with the primary
objectives of uncovering the etiology of infections and preventing in-hospital epi-
demics. A surveillance nurse used an “Infection Information Form” for computer
entry of data extracted from the medical record, and from interviews with patients
that were found to have positive bacterial cultures. Data were then added on organ-
ism identifications and antibiotic susceptibilities. After the data were entered into
the computer, reports were generated listing patients and their demographic data,
556 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
the organisms and their prevalence, and sensitivities to antibiotics; and then periodic
historical and epidemiologic summaries of the data were provided.
In the early 1980s some hospitals began to use low-cost microcomputers for
hospital infection surveillance systems. One example was the system developed
using a RadioShack TRS-80 microcomputer for Mt. Sinai Hospital by Wise [243] at
Datalab Corporation in Ohio. The system established a file for patient identification
data and bed location in the hospital, and the type of infection and antibiotic treat-
ment; and a file for organisms with records for each organism that included the body
site and antibiotic sensitivity results. Data output programs provided periodic
reports on patients with infections with their hospital services, body sites of infec-
tions, sensitivities of organisms, and counts and frequencies.
Lyman and associates [148] at the New York University Medical Center’s
Bellevue Hospital described the use of a natural-language text processing system
that stored narrative hospital discharge summaries. The system allowed retrieval of
cases with, for example, acute bacterial meningitis listed in pediatric discharges,
and provided details such as counts and frequencies, signs, symptoms, types of
treatment, and some outcome results.
Dove and Hierholzer [68] at Yale New Haven Hospital designed and deployed
software for an infection control system that ran on IBM-XT/AT or DEC microcom-
puters. Their system was designed to integrate data from several hospital depart-
ments to support utilization review, risk management, and quality assurance. The
system was found to be quite flexible and was adapted for use at St. Joseph’s
Hospital in Syracuse, New York.
With the development of hospital information systems (HISs) with software for
automated extraction of data from computer-based patient records, Streed and
Hierholzer [216] at the University of Iowa Hospitals reported on 5 years’ experience
with a HIS using an IBM mainframe computer that had light-pens with visual dis-
play terminals. In 1980, this HIS had an online infection management system that
replaced a punch card system purchased in 1976, and that conformed more closely
to the requirements of the Joint Commission on Accreditation of Healthcare
Organizations’ (JCAHO) mandated infection monitoring and infection control pro-
grams. A series of phased enhancements to the system allowed comparisons of
recent and past infection rates. Cost-evaluation software provided useful financial
data related to nosocomial infections, and data from the microbiology and the phar-
macy systems were merged to provide follow-up correlations of antibiotic use with
the appearance of antibiotic resistance.
Using the HELP system they had developed at LDS Hospital, and linking their
computer-based microbiology laboratory to the HELP system, Warner’s group was
able to develop a Computerized Infectious Disease Monitoring System to identify
hospital-acquired infections [89]. In 1986, they described the system’s main fea-
tures: microbiology test results combined with other information such as pharmacy
and radiology data; a knowledge base created by infectious disease physicians;
automatic medical decision-making capabilities activated by patients’ test results;
and timely reporting of computer-based medical findings to infectious disease per-
sonnel [79]. As each microbiology test result was stored in the computer-based
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 557
patient record, it was processed by a program that screened the result for selected
information, and, for example, if a blood culture was positive, the program auto-
matically activated algorithms that determined whether the bacterium isolated was
a likely pathogen, whether the patient’s current antibiotic therapy was appropriate
based on the organism’s antibiotic susceptibility results, and listed the most effec-
tive and lowest cost treatment considering any patient allergies or medical contrain-
dications. A report containing this information was printed automatically each day,
or could be printed manually. The researchers concluded from a 12-month study in
1986–1987 that computer-assisted monitoring of antibiotic therapy provided an
efficient method for identifying and remedying inappropriate use of antibiotics, and
lowering rates of hospital-acquired infections [78].
There are other LAB subsystems and laboratory computer applications that are not
discussed in detail in this chapter. The anatomic pathology or surgical pathology
subsystem (PATH system) is described in Chap. 13. The blood bank or transfusion
medicine subsystem, which assists the blood bank in providing safe blood products
for transfusion, differs from other LAB subsystems because of US Food and Drug
Administration (FDA) regulations. The examples below illustrate additional ways
in which computer technology has been applied to laboratory automation.
Electrophoresis measures the migration rates of protein particles in an electric
field. In the late 1960s Gelman Corporation in Ann Arbor, Michigan developed an
electrophoresis instrument that measured the migration rates of protein particles
that had been placed on a cellulose polyacetate membrane. The instrument scanned
an eight-sample separation strip and printed out a graph for each of the eight
samples. The computer module of this instrument, the Digiscreen C, integrated the
area under the curve of each graph and printed out the value. It also could be con-
nected online to a LAB system [38].
Gas chromatography is used to separate and identify the components of com-
plex gas mixtures based on the different distribution coefficients between a moving
gas phase and a stationary liquid phase, which is either coated on small particles
which fill a tube or is coated as a thin film on the wall of a capillary tube. Because
the transit time of a particular compound at a given gas flow rate and liquid station-
ary phase is a reproducible parameter for a compound, Bieman [25] at the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology combined a gas chromatograph with a mass
spectrometer, and used an IBM 1800 computer to continuously record the mass
spectra of the effluent of the gas chromatograph to generate three-dimensional
chromatogram reports. Bronzino [36] described the Finnagin 4021 system, which
also connected a gas chromatograph and a mass spectrometer to a computer. The
gas chromatograph separated the chemical constituents in patient specimens; for
example, mixtures of drugs, and the separated components were then introduced
into the mass spectrometer, which generated characteristic spectra for the individ-
558 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
ual components. The minicomputer controlled the process and stored the data from
the spectrometer, and matched the spectrum of the sample to those already stored
in the computer.
The LAB system was one of the earliest applications of computers in direct patient
care in the late 1950s and early 1960s, as some laboratory tests were already auto-
mated and merely needed to be interfaced to a digital computer. The initial growth
of the LAB system involved predominantly the clinical laboratories, but patholo-
gists also began working on the pathology information (PATH) system, which is
discussed separately in Chap. 13.
In the early years of LAB systems, the clinical laboratory usually could not jus-
tify a dedicated computer system, so the laboratory typically shared the facilities of
a central hospital mainframe computer that was otherwise used for accounting
applications. As these mainframe systems provided only batch processing functions
using punched-card inputs, the usual work flow at the time was for a hospital ward
secretary to take the paper laboratory requisition – on which the physician had
ordered chemistry, hematology, or other tests – and punch the request information
along with the patient’s identification number into one or more cards. The punched
cards would be passed through a card reader that was connected to the central com-
puter, which then generated specimen-collection schedules and work lists for the
laboratory technologists, along with specimen labels and punched cards for each
test ordered. The punched cards and the patient’s specimens were then carried to the
appropriate laboratory where the tests were to be performed. When the tests were
completed, the technologists wrote the test results on the appropriate card; and a
clerk keypunched the test result into the card. The cards were then batched and
transmitted to the central computer, where periodic reports were printed that listed
completed test results that were available up to that time for each patient. Periodically,
a final cumulative-summary report of all test results was printed [58].
In the late 1950s, Rappaport and associates at the Youngstown Hospital
Association in Youngstown, Ohio, began developing software for a LAB system
that used IBM computers, was punch-card oriented, and operated primarily in a
batch-processing mode [38]. Physicians marked laboratory test orders on preprinted
forms from which a clerk or nurse transcribed the orders onto two-part punch cards
with patients’ identification numbers imprinted on the cards, and with preprinted
and pre-punched specimen accession numbers. These cards then served as the labo-
ratory test requisitions for chemistry, hematology, and urinalyses. The cards were
sent to the laboratory where one part of the card was punched with the information
that had been written or stamped on the card, thus providing machine-readable data
for the automated laboratory instruments. The second part of the card served as the
specimen collection list for the hospital wards, where pre-punched and encoded
card stubs could be attached to the specimens. Initially, the laboratory used single-
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 559
channel AutoAnalyzers for serum glucose determinations, with dual channel ana-
lyzers added later for glucose and urea nitrogen tests done on the same sample. In
1960, they created a central automated chemistry unit, and in 1963 they added a
four-channel AutoAnalyzer unit for electrolyte testing. In 1964, they installed an
IBM 1440 computer; and in the 1970s they added more instruments to provide 17
automated chemical procedures. In this LAB system, data from the Technicon
AutoAnalyzers were collected by an IBM 1080 Data Acquisition System that read
the analog and digital signals for the 15 chemistry tests performed by the
AutoAnalyzers. The system had a punch card reader that read the specimen acces-
sion numbers on the attached card stubs. Hematology test results from the Coulter
Coulters were transmitted through an interface to the IBM Data Acquisition System,
as were data from other semi-automated laboratory instruments. Any test results
that had been manually recorded were later keypunched into punch cards. Urgently
required (stat) tests were reported automatically to the hospital nursing units. All
laboratory data were transmitted to a central IBM 370 computer that provided a
variety of summary reports. All patient data were then stored in the patient medical
record on magnetic disk storage [175].
In 1959, Vallbona and Spencer [228] at the Texas Institute for Research and
Rehabilitation (TIRR) Hospital in Houston used punch cards for their clinical labo-
ratory test data. In 1961 they began to use IBM 1401 and 1620 computers. In 1965
they initiated online operations using an IBM 1410 computer; and in 1967 they
installed an IBM 360/50 computer. By 1972 their LAB system was providing
computer-generated online reports for blood gas calculations; and cumulative
reports for blood and urine chemistry, microbiology, urinalyses, spinal fluid tests,
and others.
In the early 1960s, Warner and associates at the Latter Day Saints (LDS) Hospital
in Salt Lake City used a Control Data Corporation (CDC) 3200 computer for their
cardiovascular research laboratory. They soon added a CDC 3300 computer, and
extended their system into several other areas, including the clinical laboratory,
beginning with clinical chemistry [173]. They used Tektronix 601 terminals that
were capable of displaying either 400 characters in a 25-column by 16-row pattern,
or graphical information with 512 horizontal and 512 vertical dots. Each terminal
had a decimal keyboard and two 12-bit octal thumbwheel switches for coding infor-
mation into the computer) [230]. Cards were keypunched with patients’ names and
identification numbers and were then read into the computer. Manually performed
tests from chemistry, hematology, and urinalyses were entered into the computer by
clerks using remote terminals. A Technicon SMA 12/30 chemistry analyzer was
directly interfaced to the computer. All patient data were stored in the patient’s
computer-based record. A daily printout showed all of the patient’s test results, and
was placed in the patient’s chart. Upon discharge from the hospital, the patient’s file
was transferred from the disk storage to magnetic-tape storage [38]. In the early
1970s, a company called MEDLAB, which was formed to market the LDS LAB
system, was acquired by the Control Data Corporation. In 1971 at LDS, Systematized
Nomenclature of Pathology (SNOP) codes were used to enter diagnoses at a video
terminal [91]. By 1975, LDS subsystems included clinical laboratory, multiphasic
560 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
Information was keypunched in the exact text form supplied by the pathologists,
and was then coded using a dictionary look-up process, with the coded reports
stored on disk. Lamson’s data dictionary was generated by accumulating new diag-
nostic terms encountered in the reports [124]. To avoid manual coding and to facili-
tate data retrieval, Lamson used 3 years of patient data to develop a thesaurus of all
words that had identifiable relationships. A computer query program then matched
the terms in users’ queries and retrieved the patients’ records containing the appro-
priate words. In 1965, his patients’ files contained about 16,000 words and the the-
saurus contained 5,700 English words. Lamson [125] recognized that more
programming would be necessary to address problems of syntactic and semantic
nature. Working with Jacobs at IBM, Lamson went on to develop a natural language
retrieval system that used a data dictionary for looking up pathology records, includ-
ing surgical pathology and bone-marrow examinations, autopsy reports, nuclear
medicine reports, and reports of neuroradiology findings – all of which used unique
numeric codes for each English word [111, 169]. Patients’ records were maintained
in text master files, with data for new patients merged into the text master files in
medical record-number order.
In the 1960s, Robinson [180] entered narrative surgical pathology reports using
an IBM Magnetic Tape/Selectric Typewriter (MT/ST) system that was interfaced to
a magnetic tape drive connected to a computer. As reports were transcribed, the
system stored information on the magnetic tape that was later transferred to the
computer for processing, so that neither the pathologist nor the transcriptionist was
dependent on direct access to a time-sharing computer. The program that processed
the pathology reports matched each word against a standard vocabulary, and identi-
fied new or misspelled words for later human editing.
In 1963, Lindberg and associates [142] at the University of Missouri in Columbia
installed an IBM 1410 computer in their Medical Center for a project to develop a
system for reporting clinical laboratory test results. As each patient was admitted to
the hospital, a deck of 30 punched cards with printed and pre-punched patient
identifiers was created and accompanied the patient to their hospital ward. Requests
for laboratory tests for a patient were written onto the pre-punched cards for the
patient that then accompanied the patient’s specimens to the laboratories. In the
laboratories, other pre-punched-cards were used to designate 44 different types of
specimens and tests. Test results were written onto the cards and then keypunched,
and decks of punched cards containing chemistry, bacteriology, and serology data
were read into the computer using an IBM 1912 card reader located in the labora-
tory. Prior to using this new computer system, official reports of laboratory tests
were generated using (punch card) unit-record equipment, and were transmitted to
the hospital wards where they were printed on Teletype terminals. The punched
cards in the laboratories were then read into an IBM 1620 computer that generated
summary records for the laboratories, and billing documents for the accounting
office. Laboratory data were then stored on magnetic tapes for future retrieval, pri-
marily for research purposes, with queries performed using either punched cards
read in at the computer center, or through remote IBM 1014 input-output typewrit-
ers connected to the computer by telephone lines [144].
562 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
mary reports of test results for the clinicians. In 1968, KP’s Department of Medical
Methods Research installed an IBM 360/50 computer in Oakland to develop a pro-
totype medical information system (MIS) that included LAB subsystems [45]. KP’s
earlier automated multiphasic health-testing system (AMHTS) was already pro-
cessing 3,000 tests a day, and provided patient-identification data, laboratory speci-
men labels, patient and specimen registration, quality control data, and clinical
laboratory test results. Additionally, clinical decision-support was provided that
included alerts and warning signals for findings outside of predetermined normal
limits, as well as rules and advice for secondary sequential testing, and rules for
likely diagnoses. All patient data were stored in computer-based patient records, and
also in research databases [49, 223]. In 1969, a manual punched-card system was
installed at the San Francisco KP Hospital. In 1972, a computer-based LAB system
was installed and was integrated into the hospital information system. The LAB
system included a LOGIN subsystem for test requisitions and for assigning acces-
sion numbers to specimens, and for compiling a set of appropriately identified pre-
punched test cards. The deck of cards was then read into a card-reader terminal,
permitting the computer to generate listings of patients’ names and identifiers.
Chemistry test results from a Technicon AutoAnalyzer, and hematology test results
from a Coulter Counter automatically generated punched cards that were read into
card readers and stored in the patients’ computer-based patient records. Other test
results were inscribed on the test cards for subsequent data entry into the central
computer (Terdiman and Collen [222]). In the 1980s, a central regional clinical
laboratory was established by KP; in the 1990s the standalone multiphasic testing
systems were absorbed into the national KP Health Connect system.
In 1964, Williams [241], at the Clinical Pathology Department of the National
Institutes of Health, developed a patient and specimen identification system for their
LAB system. The patient’s name and identification number were preprinted and
punched onto 25 mark-sense test-request cards at the time of admission to hospital.
The cards were kept with the patient’s medical record at the nursing station so that
physicians could mark the cards when laboratory testing was desired. The cards
then accompanied the patient’s specimens to the laboratory, where they were key-
punched and then sent to the computer room to be read into the computer. The labo-
ratory also developed a novel accessioning station at which specimen tubes were
inserted into a rack, causing accession numbers to be generated that corresponded
to the rack positions. At the same time, the patient identification and test request
information on the accompanying cards were read by an attached mark-sense card
reader. This combination of a specialized accessioning station, sample racks, and
carriers represented the first attempt to provide computer-readable specimen identi-
fication [38].
In 1964, the Information Systems Division of the Lockheed Missiles and Space
Company in Sunnyvale, California began to develop a hospital information system
(HIS) at the El Camino Hospital in Mountain View, California [86, 87]. In 1971,
Lockheed sold the system to Technicon Corporation, and the El Camino Hospital
signed a contract for the installation of the Technicon HIS [183]. By 1973, El
Camino had installed terminals throughout the hospital, including terminals for a
564 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
LAB system [39]. The terminals’ display screens were used to present lists; for
example, of orders for clinical laboratory tests. A specific item was selected by
pointing the light-pen at the desired word (or phrase), and pressing a switch on the
barrel of the pen. The Technicon HIS was one of the first systems designed to allow
the physician to directly enter orders for laboratory tests, and review the test results
online [32]. Using the light-pen, a physician could select a patient and then enter
orders for laboratory work and other procedures. Physicians, nurses, and other hos-
pital personnel made extensive user of the terminals’ light-pens, and only occasion-
ally had to use the keyboards. The computer stored the orders and sent laboratory
test requests and other orders to the appropriate hospital departments [91]. Computer
printouts included laboratory specimen pickup lists, cumulative test summaries, and
other reports. Test results were available at the terminals as soon as they were
entered into the system by the laboratories. Physicians also received clinical remind-
ers and alerts when retrieving patient data from the display terminals. A cumulative
laboratory summary report was printed each day which showed the last 7 days of
patients’ test results. Upon discharge, a complete listing of all test results was
printed at the medical records department to be filed in the patient’s paper chart. In
1978, they developed a library containing information about interpretation of test
results, as well as diagnoses and recommended treatments [21, 108, 203, 231].
In 1964, Tatch, in the Surgeon General’s Office of the US Army, reported the
automatically encoding of clinical diagnoses by punching paper tape as a by-product
of the typing of a clinical record summary sheet. The computer program operated
upon words within selected blocks of text, one at a time, and then operated on each
letter to produce a unique number that replaced the word. The number was matched
to an identification table, and an identity code was appended to the number. Using a
special syntax, the numbers were used to generate a diagnostic code. This diagnosis
code was then added to the clinical record summary [220].
In 1965, Lamson, at the University of California, Los Angeles, reported that they
had developed a prototype LAB system for their clinical chemistry laboratory,
which had automated chemistry analyzers; and that computer-based data processing
was already operational in their hospital. Initially, data from hand-written test req-
uisitions were transferred to punched cards by a manual keypunch, but this was
soon replaced by terminals on the hospital nursing units that transmitted laboratory
requests to automatic card-punch machines in the laboratory. Initially, test results
were recorded on mark-sense cards until laboratory instruments provided direct
digital readouts, or computers with analog-to-digital conversion capabilities could
provide test results in digital form. At the end of each day, the computer printed out
individual summaries of each patient’s tests results [125]. In 1968, Lamson acquired
a computer system for both the clinical laboratories and for a surgical pathology
reporting system [123]. Their initial information system was gradually expanded,
and by 1975 it provided summary reports that included data received from a large
number of clinical laboratories [122].
In 1967, Weed and associates at the University of Vermont’s College of Medicine
in Burlington introduced their Problem-Oriented Medical Information System
(PROMIS). By 1971, the system was used on a 20-bed gynecology ward at the
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 565
University Hospital, with linkages to the clinical laboratory. By 1977, the system
had 30 touch-sensitive display terminals located on hospital wards and in the clini-
cal laboratory that were connected to a single minicomputer. The terminals could
display 1,000 characters of information in 20 lines of 50 characters each, and had 20
touch-sensitive fields. The user could select an item by touching the screen, and
free-form data could be entered by typing on the keyboard attached to the terminal
[77, 188].
In 1968, Siegel at the New York-Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn
described their hospital information system, which used an IBM 1440–1410 com-
puter connected to 40 remote typewriter-terminal printers. They entered data using
punched cards, paper tape, and IBM 1092 matrix-overlay keyboards; and used mag-
netic tape and disk for data storage. Terminals were placed in specialty clinics and
the clinical laboratories [192].
In 1969, Pratt at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) reported on the use of
automatic coding of autopsy diagnoses using the Systematized Nomenclature of
Pathology (SNOP). He wrote that in the creation of a computer-based natural lan-
guage processing (NLP) system, it was necessary to provide for the morphological,
syntactic, and semantic recognition of input data. He used SNOP in his semantically
organized dictionary, and subdivided the SNOP codes into four major semantic cat-
egories: Topography [T], Morphology [M], Etiology [E], and Function [F]. He also
developed semantic subcategories and morphemes (smallest meaningful parts of
words) to permit the coding of words not found in the SNOP dictionary, and for the
recognition of medical-English synonyms [171]. Pratt developed parsing algorithms
for morphological, syntactic, and semantic analysis of autopsy diagnoses; and
developed a series of computer programs that processed medical text to produce a
linguistic description and a semantic interpretation of the text [172]. This medical
text analysis included translation of the text into the four field types (T, M, E, F)
defined in the SNOP dictionary.
In 1969, Hammond and Stead [102–104] at Duke University began to develop a
minicomputer-supported medical information system (MIS) known as The Medical
Record (TMR) system. In the 1970s, with the availability of mass storage devices
for minicomputers, they developed a distributed network of minicomputers, imple-
mented a clinical laboratory (LAB) system designed to support the ordering and
reporting of laboratory data, and used a data dictionary to define the codes for their
LAB system. Data entry methods included both interactive video terminals and
batch-processed mark-sense forms. By 1974, they used a Digital Equipment
Corporation (DEC) PDP-11 minicomputer to interface their system to their
University Health Services Clinic (UHSC) and to the Duke hospital information
system.
By the late 1970s, Hammond [104] stated that their system contained all the
features of a computer-based patient record so that when a patient saw a physician
who recorded data and test orders on the paper encounter sheet, a clerk could enter
the orders into the system so they could be printed out in the appropriate clinical
laboratories. By 1984, the Duke HIS was linked to 18 clinical service departments
and 64 laboratories [213]. Clinical laboratory data were entered by the laboratory
566 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
technologists as the test results became available. For data entry, they displayed a
full screen and then filled in blanks. The data enterer could type in the appropriate
laboratory test code or type in text and the program would do an alphabetic search
via the data dictionary and convert the text string into the proper code. By 1985,
Duke’s TMR system had increased in size to require a local area network that linked
to their LAB system by an Ethernet connection, which allowed the laboratory to
query a patient’s problem list directly in the patient’s electronic record. By the late
1980s their LAB system provided linkages to referring physicians for clinical ser-
vices [104, 212].
Frey and associates [83] at Stanford Medical Center described their Advanced
Computer for Medical Research Project. Known as the ACME system, it was devel-
oped as a flexible research database able to handle multiple data sets of varying
types and sizes – with some data having to be held for long periods of time, and
other data requiring frequent updating. The system included features designed to
minimize inadvertent data loss, and to provide a simple user interface for medical
researchers who were inexperienced in the use of computers. ACME was a
typewriter-terminal driven, time-sharing system designed to acquire, analyze, store,
and retrieve medical research data, and to control clinical laboratory instruments.
The system was hosted on an IBM 360/50 computer, with IBM 2741 typewriter
terminals, and interfaces to a variety of laboratory instruments that were interfaced
through an IBM 1800 computer that had analog-to-digital data conversion capabili-
ties. Disc drives were used for working storage and magnetic tapes were used for
backup and archival storage.
In 1970 Myers and associates [164] at the University of Pennsylvania reported a
system in which a pathology report was translated into a series of data elements that
were encoded using arbitrarily assigned numbers. While the typist entered routine
pathology reports using a program that also controlled by a paper tape punch as an
output device, the data in the report was automatically coded and a punched paper
tape was produced as a by-product of typing. The data on the punched paper tapes
were then transferred to either magnetic tapes or to a disk storage system.
In 1970 Grams and associates at the University of Florida in Gainesville and at
the 500-bed Shands Hospital began developing a computer-based laboratory infor-
mation (LAB) system, which was designed to provide some clinical decision sup-
port capabilities [93]. Initially the computer system did not have any capabilities for
reporting test results, and the test results were manually recorded on cumulative
report forms. Also, a portable punch card (Port-A-Punch) system was used initially
for ordering laboratory procedures. The cards were batch processed to create blood-
drawing lists, labels for specimens, and work sheets; following which they were
sent to an IBM 370 computer system for billing the laboratory charges. In 1975 a
more comprehensive system was used to support their chemistry, hematology,
immunology, and microbiology laboratories, and their blood bank. In 1977, they
installed a network to integrate their laboratory functions with their hospital admit-
ting office and nursing stations. They used one computer for the nursing units and
the admitting office that was linked to a second computer in the laboratory [95].
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 567
In the early 1970s, several commercial LAB systems were being marketed that
used minicomputers [8, 11]. Berkeley Scientific Laboratories described in some
detail four commercially developed, operational LAB systems marketed by Spear
Computers, Inc, Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC), Diversified Numerical
Applications (DNA), and BSL’s own CLINDATA Mark II system [38].
The Spear Computers Class 300 LAB system controlled the gathering and test-
ing of patients’ specimens; and collected and analyzed the data from both auto-
mated and manually performed test procedures in the chemistry, hematology, and
microbiology laboratories.
Clerks entered the patient’s identification (ID) data and hospital-assigned ID
number into the system by keyboard. The computer generated lists for specimen
pickup and laboratory work lists. The computer automatically assigned a five-digit
accession number to each specimen, and printed pressure-sensitive labels with the
patient’s name, hospital number and specimen number. Digitized data from test
results were entered into the system’s LINC computer and were stored in its data
files, and test results were printed out on report forms. Spear Computers developed
the basic software used by its system, with some programming for the version of its
LAB system installed at the Perth Amboy General Hospital in New Jersey devel-
oped by the Medical Development Corporation [38].
Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC) derived its CLINI-LAB 12 system from
the LABCOM data acquisition system developed at the University of Wisconsin in
Madison. The patient’s hospital number, the laboratory test type, and the accession
numbers of the specimens were entered into the computer either manually using
Teletype terminals, or by punched cards passed through a punched-card reader.
Automated laboratory instruments such as Technicon Auto-Analyzers were con-
nected to analog-to-digital converters that allowed the PDP-12 computer to capture
digitized data. The system had both random-access disk and magnetic tape storage.
A cathode ray tube (CRT) display was available, and a line printer provided a vari-
ety of laboratory reports. The LAB system software included a central patient file
from which patients’ stored laboratory data were accessible by users through the
Teletype terminals [38].
The Berkeley Scientific Laboratories (BSL) CLINDATA system used a PDP-8
computer with random-access disk storage for patient data files, and magnetic-tape
storage for long-term retention of patient data. BSL developed software that
acquired data from both AutoAnalyzers in the chemistry laboratory and Coulter
Counters in the hematology laboratory, and also allowed data to be input for manu-
ally performed laboratory procedures. The system also accepted free-text comments
entered through keyboards. Test requests could be manually entered directly into
the system using a keyboard, or they could be punched into cards which were then
read into the system by a card reader. The system generated specimen collection
lists (such as blood drawing lists), and adhesive-backed labels that displayed the
patient’s name, hospital number, and names of the tests to be performed. The sys-
tem also produced worksheets that specified the tests to be performed on each speci-
men. Analog signals from AutoAnalyzers were monitored to detect voltage peaks
568 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
which were converted to digital values for computer input. Output data from a
Coulter counter were entered into the computer, and computations were performed
to provide the various red blood-cell indices. A variety of test reports were printed,
including daily and cumulative-summary reports, and also for stat or an on-demand
query basis [38].
In the early 1970s, the State University of New York at its Upstate Medical
Center in Syracuse, New York, developed a LAB system as a subsystem of its hos-
pital information system. Upon a patient’s entry into hospital, the admitting office
typed up an admission form using a keyboard with a cathode-ray tube (CRT) dis-
play connected to a Systems Engineering Laboratories (SEL) 810A computer. A
deck of punched cards, physician-order forms, and specimen-identification labels
were then generated. A physician-order form that requested a desired test was
attached to a punched card, and with appropriate specimen labels was sent to the
clinical laboratory. The punched card was then read into the computer, and the
patient data were displayed on a cathode-ray terminal. After visual verification of
the displayed data by a clerk, the computer printed out a specimen-collection list
and laboratory worksheets. AutoAnalyzer test results were entered online through
an interface to the computer. Non-automated test results were entered into the LAB
system using keyboard-display terminals. At the end of each day all completed test
data were transferred to a second central SEL computer that printed daily and 7-day
cumulative reports [38].
In the early 1970s at The Johns Hopkins Hospital (JHH), a prototype clinical
information management system was developed that processed physicians’ written
orders, generated work lists for nurses, and produced computer-printed patient drug
profiles that were filed in patients’ charts [193]. In 1975, a Minirecord (minimal
essential record) system was developed for the JHH Medical Clinic with encounter
forms for each patient visit with lists of medications and procedures [151]. By
1978, an internally developed LAB system written in MUMPS provided specimen
collection lists, work lists and instrument load-lists for the laboratory staff, and
acquired online data from automated laboratory instruments. The LAB system also
produced cumulative summaries of patient’s test results and billing and administra-
tive reports [112, 162]. By the mid-1980s, the JHH system included IBM 3081 and
3083 computers linked to the MUMPS LAB system which ran on three PDP-11/70
minicomputers and served both the clinical and surgical pathology laboratories
[161, 214, 225].
In 1971, Barnett’s Computer-Stored Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) system was
developed for the Harvard Community Health Plan (HCHP) in Boston. The
COSTAR system used remote terminals connected by telephone lines to computers
located in the Laboratory of Computer Science at MGH. HCHP physicians ordered
clinical laboratory tests on a special order form which the patient took to the labora-
tory for specimen collection, and where test results were entered into the computer
as soon as the results were available. Physicians then received daily reports of their
patients’ tests results that had been completed during the prior 24 h, and they also
could review test results on the system’s display terminals. Additionally, status
reports generated after the entry of any new data into patients’ records provided
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 569
updated summaries, including current medications and latest clinical laboratory test
results [17, 96, 100].
Morey and associates [163] at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, pub-
lished a comprehensive analysis of the chemistry laboratory at the Boston City
Hospital and described the functional requirements for a LAB system to handle its
load of about one-million tests a year, most of which were already automated. They
evaluated the hardware and software characteristics of 12 computer systems that
were available in 1970, and recommended as a suitable turnkey LAB system either
a system from Digital Equipment Corporation or one from Spear.
In 1971, Elbert and associates [74] at the University of Ohio Hospitals installed
a Technicon Hemalog-8 hematology analyzer that employed continuous-flow
stream hydraulics to aspirate whole blood samples and directly measure the hemo-
globin, hematocrit, red blood cell count and platelet count; and calculate the red
blood cell indices. In 1974, they added a Hemalog D automated white blood cell
differential counter that also was based on continuous-flow technology; and in 1976
they installed a LABCOM laboratory information system that used a Digital
Equipment Corporation (DEC) PDP-11/45 minicomputer for online data acquisi-
tion from both the Hemalog-8 and the Hemalog D systems. Test request and test
result codes of up to four characters were set up to match the requirements of the
analyzers, and clerks entered test request codes into the computer system from
paper requisition forms so that specimen collection labels and processing labels
could be generated. Tubes of blood with specimen labels were placed on the
Hemalog-8 system, and as the specimens were processed by the instrument, the
results were printed by a built-in printer and were captured by the LABCOM com-
puter. A Teletype printer also could be used to print reports of test results. Similarly,
the Hemalog D system provided a total white blood cell count and the percentages
of each white blood cell subtype using its built-in printer, with the instrument data
also captured by the LABCOM computer. The computer then compared the total
white blood cell counts from the two systems before printing out the cell count from
the Hemalog-8, which was normally the default print value. When there were
significant differences between the total white blood cell counts from the two instru-
ments, or when abnormal cells were reported, a manual (visual) white blood cell
differential cell count was performed.
In 1972, McDonald and associates at the Regenstrief Institute in Indianapolis
deployed the Regenstrief Medical Record System (RMRS), which included a LAB
system running on a Digital Equipment Computer (DEC) PDP-11/45 located in the
Regenstrief Health Center [157]. This LAB system had connections to a variety of
terminals located in the clinical laboratories that allowed data entry and subsequent
retrieval of test results directly from the system [156, 157]. For each patient’s visit
to a physician, a patient summary report was generated that included data from the
clinical laboratories, with data from other clinical subsystems also displayed in a
modified flow sheet format [156]. This report listed the patient’s laboratory results
in reverse chronological order, which allowed the physician to readily find and com-
pare the most recent laboratory data to any prior data for repeated laboratory tests.
Additionally, an asterisk was placed beside each abnormal test value for emphasis.
570 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
McDonald [156] reported that the RMRS used paper reports – rather than visual
displays – as its primary mechanism for transmitting information to physicians, as
paper reports were economical, portable, easy to browse, and could be annotated
with a pen or pencil. In the early 1980s, the RMRS shared a DEC VAX 11/780
computer with the clinical laboratories and used microcomputer-based workstations
to display forms into which the user could enter data using a mouse to select choices
from menus [152]. By the mid-1980s, the RMRS’s computer-based patient record
contained patients’ clinical laboratory data entered automatically from their LAB
system [152]. In 1988, the RMRS was also linked to the clinical laboratories in the
local Veterans and University hospitals [154].
In the 1970s, the most common topology for a LAB system was a minicomputer
with 10–50 terminals that were directly connected to the computer in a “star” con-
figuration. The typical data processing requirements for such a LAB system were to
accept data entered through an input terminal, and to have that data processed by the
computer as it arrived and then written to a magnetic disk for subsequent retrieval
from the disk for printing at an output terminal. Each time the minicomputer
exchanged data with a terminal or disk, a different program might be handle the
transaction; for example, the order entry program would collect data from the labo-
ratory requisition, and the specimen-collection-list program would print it. Since
there would usually be more programs than could fit into the computer’s main mem-
ory, programs were swapped to-and-from the disk, and the large size of the pro-
grams often resulted in a substantial overhead that affected system performance.
The replacement of batch processing of test result reports with online processing by
minicomputers greatly shortened test-reporting turnaround times, and facilitated the
timely reporting of urgent and stat reports.
In the 1970s, distributed LAB system architectures began to be developed; and
by the 1980s distributed LAB systems were available that consisted of a collection
of workstations, each with its own microcomputer and local data storage that com-
municated with each other using a local area network or LAN [97]. This design
allowed data traffic to be spread out over more disks than was possible with a cen-
tralized, single-computer system [160].
Genre [90] described several alternative architectures for implementing a LAB
system: (1) completely freestanding; (2) linked to a hospital information system but
issuing its own reports; or (3) functioning as a subsystem of a large hospital infor-
mation system. It soon became evident that implementing a LAB system, with its
multiple subsystems and connections, could be a difficult and complex project.
Enlander [76], at Stanford University, noted that although LAB systems had
been available for more than a decade that used central computers for most labora-
tory data processing functions including instrument data acquisition, an alternative
LAB system architecture would be to use microprocessors to preprocess data at
each laboratory analyzer. The advantages of a front-end microprocessor-based
architecture included increased flexibility in analyzer usage, increased efficiency in
the use of the central computer, economy in software development, more flexibility
in coping with changes in laboratory instrumentation and methods, better technolo-
gist control, and hardware redundancy for backup in case of system failure. In
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 571
1968, Stanford Medical Center’s ACME research database system, which was
hosted on an IBM 360/50 computer, used an IBM 1800 data acquisition computer
to process data from their Technicon SMA-12/60 chemistry analyzer. By 1975, they
were using microprocessors for converting the signals from the SMA analyzer to
digital data.
Wertlake [236] at Children’s Hospital of San Francisco proposed that laborato-
ries wishing to use computers but not desiring the expense of a turn-key vendor’s
LAB system could begin with an advanced programmable calculator and gradually
develop programs for laboratory calculations, and could use dedicated microproces-
sors for instrument data acquisition. Wertlake used a Hewlett-Packard 9830 pro-
grammable calculator that had 8K of core memory and a BASIC language interpreter
that allowed laboratory personnel to write programs for calibration of automated
analyzers and for performing selected clerical functions and reporting of laboratory
test results. The advantages of using these calculators for both batch processing and
for online instrument data acquisition were the ease of programming and the low-
cost input/output devices. They also used a Hewlett-Packard 9821 calculator con-
nected to a four-channel electrolyte analyzer to provide automated interpretation
and output of the analyzer data. Wertlake and colleagues subsequently added a cen-
tral minicomputer that used the programmable calculators as preprocessors.
In 1975, Blois [30] reported that that some LAB systems were beginning to sat-
isfy perceived functional and technical requirements, even though the majority were
“homemade;” and many required that the test requests and results be keypunched,
and many provided only batch-processed summary reports for physicians and for
billing. Some LAB systems employed a dedicated small computer that interfaced
directly with automated instruments. Blois estimated that about 15 commercial
companies had installed about 150 turnkey LAB systems over the prior 6–7 years.
In a few large hospital information systems, the LAB system functioned as a sub-
system and as a laboratory data management system rather than an instrument con-
trol system. Blois stated that these LAB systems were often the most successful.
The Diversified Numerical Applications (DNA) Automated Clinical Laboratory
System used special-purpose keyboards to enter test request information from hand-
written requisition forms. AutoAnalyzers were connected through an analog-to-
digital converter to a Raytheon 703 computer, which also accepted digitized data
directly from other automated instruments. The DNA software supported a
computer-based patient file on disk storage, and provided a variety of printed labo-
ratory reports [174].
In 1976, Bleich, Slack, and associates at Beth Israel Hospital in Boston intro-
duced their clinical computing system. In 1982, they expanded the system to the
Brigham and Women’s Hospital. By 1984, the system ran on a network of Data
General Eclipse minicomputers that supported 300 video-display terminals located
throughout the hospitals, including the clinical laboratories. The system permitted
one to retrieve data from the clinical laboratories, to look up reports from the depart-
ments of radiology and pathology, to look up prescriptions filled in the outpatient
pharmacy, and to request delivery of patients’ charts. A 1983 survey of 545 physi-
cians, medical students, and nurses revealed that they used the computer terminals
572 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
mostly to look up laboratory test results, and 83 % said that the terminals enabled
them to work faster [28]. In the 1990s, their clinical computing system provided
results from all their laboratories and clinical departments [197]. In 1994, Brigham
and Women’s Hospital joined with Massachusetts General Hospital to form Partner’s
Health Care System that included 10 hospitals and more than 250 practice sites with
their clinical laboratories and clinical support subsystems [221].
In 1979, Fetter [81] described a microcomputer-based medical information sys-
tem installed at Yale University that used a Digital Equipment Corporation (DEC)
16-bit LSI-11 processors with computer terminals installed in Yale’s clinical
laboratory.
In 1979, the PathNet LAB system was marketed by Cerner Corporation, and
used a DEC VAX minicomputer to provide order-entry and results-reporting func-
tions, a patient-data file, and laboratory functions including the printing of specimen
labels, specimen-collection lists, work lists, and a variety of reports. Microbiology
and blood bank subsystems supported the processing for these laboratories, and
included textual reports [201].
Also in the 1970s, early LAB systems were installed at the University of
Pennsylvania Hospital, at the University of Washington in Seattle, the Hopkins
Medical Laboratories in Providence, Rhode Island, and at the University of Vermont
Medical Center in Burlington [36].
In 1980, Williams and associates at the Mercy Hospital in Urbana, Illinois,
developed a distributed LAB system in which clusters of terminals used for similar
functions (such as a cluster used for order entry) were connected to Motorola 68000
microcomputers, each with its own memory and disk storage. A file-server program
managed data storage and retrieval on the disk, and handled communications with
other terminal clusters in the local-area network. Only the user-programs directly
required by a terminal cluster were stored in that cluster. One data-storage cluster
handled each major LAB subsystem, such as hematology or chemistry [160].
Norbut and associates [167] at the University of Pittsburgh Health Center used a
North Star Horizon II microcomputer, with programs they wrote in North Star
BASIC, that was interfaced to a cathode ray display terminal for structured data
input and for rapid inquiry. Their variable-length patient files contained strings of
numeric codes with associated free-text comments. A printer generated a daily work
list for each laboratory area, and printed interim and cumulative reports, workload
statistics, quality control summaries, and other reports. They planned to expand
their system using a distributed network of low-cost minicomputers, with mark-
sense cards for data entry from the individual workstations.
During the 1970s and 1980s, many articles were published on how to select a
vendor-supported LAB system, including how to develop a statement of required
specifications, how to evaluate available vendor-supported LAB systems, how to
choose a LAB system vendor, and how to negotiate a contract [13, 131].
By the mid-1980s, some large laboratories used a distributed network of micro-
computers and minicomputers to provide LAB system functions and to maintain
computer-based patient records. One or more micro- or minicomputers processed
the data from the various laboratory divisions and transmitted the data to the mini-
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 573
computer maintaining the patient records [201]. This distributed LAB system
architecture provided a more predictable response times, better performance per
dollar, easier expansion, and greater reliability [160].
Lincoln [129] described distributed computer architectures that served serve
both the hospital and the clinic using networked workstations with connections to
the clinical laboratory. Enterprise-wide systems that served several hospitals had
local area networks and distributed database management software that linked the
various LAB systems’ databases and integrated the patient data to provide patient
medical records that were usable by the clinicians.
In the 1980s, systems with knowledge bases were described that had special
tools for guiding users. Demuth [65] described a knowledge-based system that
included “experts’” knowledge, such as pathology, where the system attempted to
mimic the reasoning and logic of the pathologist by using simple queries and
responses to navigate hierarchies (decision trees).
After the 1980s, advanced text-processing systems used both syntactic and
semantic approaches, and added knowledge bases that controlled how parsers inter-
preted the meaning of words in particular contexts, such as in the processing of
pathology reports [1].
By the end of the 1980s, most clinical laboratories used a commercial vendor-
supported LAB information system that provided direct data acquisition from auto-
mated instruments, and generated reports for chemistry, hematology, and urinalysis
tests. These systems also printed specimen-collection lists and technologists’ work
lists, monitored quality control, and provided a variety of reports for physicians and
laboratory managers, and for accounting functions [198].
In the 1990s, Citation Computer Systems was reported to be one of the largest
vendors of LAB systems, controlling nearly 20 % of the market, with a family of
local-area network-based, menu-driven systems designed to support the clinical
laboratories [201].
The evaluation of a LAB system usually involved comparing the operational effi-
ciency of the laboratory before and after the installation of a LAB system; and
comprehensive evaluations often considered comparisons with a previously installed
LAB system or with alternative LAB systems. Longitudinal studies of the efficiency
of LAB systems were conducted when significant changes occurred in the labora-
tory, such as changes in the laboratory work load, the installation of new laboratory
technologies such as automated instruments, or changes in the requirements for
communicating laboratory test requests and reports; or to assess the effects of a
LAB system on personnel and their functional relationships within the laboratory.
In 1965, the clinical chemistry laboratory at the Mount Sinai Hospital in
New York City performed about 260,000 tests annually, and employed a total of 22
people who took hours-to-days to complete all of their work. After installing a
574 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
laboratory and the charges to the patient, since charges usually include added profit,
or may be fixed by external agencies such as Medicare. The definition of the number
of tests performed is not a simple one when the test is included in a panel of several
tests that are done automatically by automated chemical analyzers and where some
of the tests were not requested and therefore may not be reported. Additional effi-
ciency measures may include the laboratory’s operating costs per-patient or hospital-
day, and the average number of tests completed per technician-hour. Another
important measure – and a major determinant of the physician satisfaction with the
laboratory services, is the response time or turnaround time from the receipt of the
test request by the laboratory to the reporting of the test result to the physician,
which is dependent on both the internal operations of the LAB system and its tele-
communication facilities. Finally, without a benefits-realization program involving
the physician customers of the laboratory, just getting data to physicians faster may
not produce any improvements in quality of care or reductions in costs without an
appropriate changes in physicians’ behavior.
Rappaport [175] published a detailed economic analysis of his LAB system, and
reported that in 1971 the average direct-cost per-test for all of his automated equip-
ment was 15.5 cents. Barnett [19] at the Massachusetts General Hospital reported
that the cost of their computer system for processing and reporting the chemistry
procedures was approximately nine cents per test. Waxman [210, 232] summarized
their costs per laboratory test as follows: the average cost of a clinical laboratory test
in a manual mode was about 52 cents, based on a daily volume of 250 tests. For this
same test volume, the introduction of automated procedures, with manual documen-
tation, reduced the cost per test to 24 cents; and above 2,500 tests per day, the cost
per-test was less than 7 cents.
Raymond [177, 178] at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia reported
that the LAB system installed in the William Pepper Laboratory at the Hospital of
the University of Pennsylvania decreased stat test requests from about 100 per day
to less than 30 per day, even though no special effort was made to discourage stat
requests. Raymond [177, 178] proposed that an important measure for evaluating a
LAB system was a reduction in service time; such as times taken to service routine
and stat test requests. Another evaluation criterion is the accuracy of the results
reported, which involves using test-assay quality control procedures to assure the
accuracy of test measurements, and data quality control procedures to reduce cleri-
cal errors in the recording and reporting of test results. Additional factors that influ-
ence the satisfaction of users with clinical laboratory services are the formatting of
the test reports, and the provision of clinical decision-support functions such as test
normal limits, alerts for abnormal test results, and comments by the clinical pathol-
ogist to assist in the interpretation of some test results. The effectiveness of a LAB
system is also influenced by connections to other medical information systems,
such as hospital information systems, or office information systems serving physi-
cians’ offices.
Grams [94] published a detailed cost analysis of the LAB system installed at the
University of Florida and reported the cost-per-test was between 13 and 17 cents.
Wertlake [236] at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles wrote that computer-
576 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
izing the laboratory was an indispensable means of solving many problems in the
laboratory, including: 19 problems with patient registration and identification, 14
with patient location and chart location, 10 with physician ordering, 13 associated
with transposition or other editing errors of physician orders by hospital personnel,
12 with specimen collection, 5 associated with transporting specimens to the labo-
ratory, 4 associated with specimen accessioning, 3 performance characteristics that
could be helped by a LAB system; and 22 other problems associated with major
laboratory activities.
Lewis [127] estimated that approximately 8 % of national health care expendi-
tures were for clinical laboratory testing, and because laboratory costs in the 1960s
and 1970s reflected a large amount of clerical labor, the potential increased produc-
tivity and cost-savings from a LAB system could be enormous.
Lincoln and Korpman [135] reviewed selected publications reporting the effects
of a LAB system on the performance of the clinical laboratory. They concluded that
a LAB system could improve the throughput of laboratory testing; for example, the
completion rate of white blood-cell differential counts before the installation of the
LAB system averaged 10 differential counts per-hour, and with a LAB system aver-
aged 34 per-hour. The turnaround time for a routine complete blood count averaged
4.5 h before the LAB system, and 1.6 h after the LAB system was installed. The
turnaround time for routine chemistry analysis of blood electrolytes averaged 4.0 h
before the LAB system, and 2.1 h with the LAB system. The clerical staff required
to respond to telephone queries for test results decreased from nine clerks per ten
million work units to two clerks, due to more rapid completion of laboratory tests
and more effective dissemination of laboratory test results by the LAB system. They
concluded that the greatest expense avoidance provided by the LAB system resulted
from automation of clerical procedures.
12.8 Summary
The LAB system has evolved rapidly over the past half-century as a result of the
growth of clinical laboratory testing and laboratory automation. The urinalysis as
the first laboratory test dates back thousands of years, and physicians have routinely
used clinical laboratory testing to supplement the physical examination of patients
for more than a century; however, advances in biomedical science and the invention
of automated chemical analyzers and cell counters starting in the 1950s revolution-
ized the clinical laboratories and initiated the cycle of automation and computeriza-
tion that has given rise to the modern LAB system.
The clinical laboratory was an early and very successful example of the applica-
tion of computer technology in clinical medicine. Williams [240] wrote that the use
of the computer in the clinical laboratory was the first use of the computer in any
clinical area; and the initial use of computers in the laboratory served to distinguish
clinical computing from hospital computing, which was then concerned largely
with financial and administrative data processing. The earliest computer applica-
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 577
tions in the laboratory were limited by the computer technology then available, and
were based upon the computing experiences and applications that had been devel-
oped for business and industry – under the assumption that laboratory operations
were standardized, stable, and definable [239].
The chemistry laboratory was the first clinical laboratory discipline to employ
computers in day-to-day operations as the chemistry laboratory typically produced
data consisting of small numeric values that were frequently available in digital
form from analytical instruments. The hematology laboratory and clinical micros-
copy followed soon afterwards, where the data also included short alphabetic strings
used to report the results of the examination of blood smears and urine specimens.
The microbiology laboratory, on the other hand, posed greater challenges for early
LAB computer systems because of the high proportion of textual data in the micro-
biology reports. Lincoln [132] wrote that the early LAB systems were first deployed
in the chemistry and hematology laboratories because the chemistry and hematol-
ogy laboratories had very similar information processing requirements, and these
laboratories were profitable revenue centers that could support the development
costs of early LAB systems.
In the early 1960s, the typical clinical laboratory could not justify a dedicated
computer system, so the laboratory often shared the facilities of a central hospital
mainframe computer that was otherwise used for accounting applications. As these
mainframe systems usually provided only batch processing functions using punched
card inputs, early LAB systems were primarily offline, batch-oriented systems that
used punched cards for data transfer to the mainframe, with periodic printing of
final cumulative summary reports of test results [58]. It was noted that although that
LAB systems using shared mainframe computers were suitable for some routine
test reporting functions, they often did not satisfy physicians’ needs for immediate
test reports for the emergency care of patients.
In the second half of the 1960s, the availability of affordable minicomputers
caused a rapid surge in the development of LAB systems, with DEC PDP-8, PDP-
11 and PDP-12 minicomputers used for standalone LAB systems, as well as IBM
1130 and 1800 computers, and CDC 3200 and 3300 computers. The increasingly
widespread use of LAB systems was made possible by minicomputers, which were
less costly than mainframe computers, but still powerful enough to meet the labora-
tory’s computing needs.
By the end of the 1960s, advances in science and technology, socioeconomic
pressures, and changes in the organization of medical care all helped to generate an
increased demand for laboratory services [146]. By then, most hospitals of 100 beds
or more had automated equipment in their chemistry and hematology laboratories,
with online processing by a computer system that permitted the real-time entry of
data as it was generated, and that provided visual feedback for verifying that the
data entered were correct, and computer-based quality control (QC) for detecting
analytical errors and for ensuring conformance with established QC limits.
In the 1970s, the clinical laboratory underwent great changes in information pro-
cessing. The increasing use of computers was facilitated by the fact that much of the
data processed in the laboratory was numeric, with relatively little English-language
578 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
processed by the clinical laboratory was essential in the diagnosis and treatment of
patients, it became evident that the EPR was essential for good patient care, and the
clinical laboratory became a major contributor of clinical data to the EPR. Also
evident during the past five decades was that physicians had become increasingly
dependent upon on laboratory data, the clinical laboratory, and its LAB system. In
the 1950s only a few dozen clinical laboratory tests were routinely available, but by
the 2000s, several hundred different tests were available. As the demand for labora-
tory testing increased and new analytical methodologies and laboratory instruments
were developed, it became necessary to employ more sophisticated and powerful
LAB systems to meet these demands, as the nature of most laboratory tests made
them ideal for automation and computerization [37].
In 1980, a survey by Ball and Jacobs [7] of hospital information system (HIS)
vendors found that 18 vendors provided computer support for some or all of the
laboratory, pharmacy, and radiology functions. By 1987 about 20 % of US hospitals
had computer links between their hospital information systems (HISs) and affiliated
physicians’ offices and outpatient information systems (OISs). Some had worksta-
tion terminals that enabled data to be exchanged, copied, and modified; and some
permitted direct access to laboratory and radiology reports from an office informa-
tion system [166]. Linkages of hospital and laboratory information systems to phy-
sicians’ offices were motivated by the desire to make test results available to
physicians [154]. In 1987, a Medical Software Buyer’s Guide listed more than 900
products that included software for the laboratory, pharmacy, and radiology [170].
Dorenfest [67] reported that the number of hospitals using computer systems for
other than financial applications had risen dramatically as computer applications
moved into patient registration, pharmacy and nursing applications, and into the
clinical laboratory.
In the 1980s, LAB systems increasingly employed minicomputers that could inte-
grate data from all of the laboratory areas into a common database, and could satisfy
most of a LAB system’s functional requirements. LAB systems included programs
to provide improved quality control, reference values, trend analyses, graphical pre-
sentation of data, online laboratory test interpretations, and clinical guidelines.
In the 1990s, LAB systems began using a client-server architecture with net-
worked personal computer (PC) workstations distributed throughout the laborato-
ries. By this time, the functions of the LAB systems were well understood and had
evolved to the point that they provided comprehensive computer support for the
laboratories’ internal specimen analysis and test reporting functions, and also had
the capability providing a variety of ad hoc reports for quality and management
purposes, and provided efficient data retrieval for research and other needs [84].
Also by the 1990s, most hospitals had installed a variety of specialized clinical
support information systems (CSISs) for the clinical laboratories, pathology, phar-
macy, radiology/imaging, electrocardiography (ECG), and other ancillary services.
Although these CSISs had separate patient databases, and some operated as inde-
pendent systems, most were interconnected to form a medical information system
(MIS) with a distributed database of clinical data that constituted the “electronic
patient record” (EPR).
580 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
Genre [90] predicted that LAB systems would soon be able to automatically
accept orders generated by physicians at the patients’ bedsides using an order-entry
module of the hospital information system. The LAB system would receive test
requests from the hospital information system, and the laboratory would receive
positively-identified patient specimens that could be placed in random order on ana-
lytical instruments, which would then download individual test requests from the
LAB system; and the LAB system would make laboratory data available seamlessly
across all venues of care, including remote locations such as physicians’ offices and
elsewhere.
In this chapter, Morris Collen chronicles the rich history of the use of computer
technology in the clinical laboratories with details that have not previously been
systematically documented. This half-century history the LAB system helps us
understand the strengths and limitations of contemporary LAB systems, it helps
define new strategies and architectures for LAB systems of the future, and it informs
us about other novel applications of information technology to biomedical science
and to patient care.
In recent decades, the LAB systems installed in most US hospitals and large
health care organizations have been commercial products marketed by a handful of
laboratory information system (LIS) vendors whose systems typically use dedicated
mid-level computer servers with desktop personal computer (PC) workstations.
These commercial systems provide extensive functionality for the internal opera-
tions of the clinical laboratories, and typically are interfaced to electronic health
record (EHR) systems and other systems for communicating test orders, for report-
ing test results, and for billing.
However, these standalone LIS products are now being disrupted by increasing
pressures to replace departmental LAB systems with the lab-system functionality of
so-called enterprise-wide integrated electronic health record systems (EWS).
Enterprise-wide EHR systems are single-vendor products that provide comprehen-
sive EHR support across the continuum of care: inpatient, outpatient, emergency
department, home care, long-term care and elsewhere. These enterprise-wide sys-
tems have a single patient database and integrated “departmental” sub-systems for
the laboratories, pathology, pharmacy, radiology, oncology and others.
The pressures to replace the standalone LAB system arise from the new empha-
sis on integrated EHR systems as US health care moves from volume-based, fee-
for-service reimbursement to a patient-outcome centric reimbursement system with
bundled and/or capitated payments, where provider organizations must assume
financial risk for patient outcomes and population health. Risk-based payment sys-
tems place new demands on the EHR for coordination of all aspects of patient care,
for maintaining patient registries for disease management and preventive care pro-
grams, and for supporting comprehensive clinical and financial analytics.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 581
References
4. Amar H, Barton S, Dubac D, Grady G. SMAC: the computer controller analyzer. In. Advances
in automated analysis. Technicon International Congress 1972. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1973.
p. 41–6.
5. Ansley H, Ornstein L. Enzyme histochemistry and differential white cell counts on the
Technicon Hemalog D. In; Advances in automated analysis. Technicon International
Congress 1970. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1971. p. 437–46.
6. Arkin CF, Sherry MA, Gough AG, Copeland BE. An automatic leukocyte analyzer. Validity
of its results. Am J Clin Pathol. 1977;67:159–69.
7. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Hospital information systems as we enter the decade of the 80s. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;1:646–50.
8. Ball MJ. An overview of total medical information systems. Methods Inf Med. 1971;10:73.
9. Ball MJ. Introduction. Chapter 1. In: Ball MJ, editor. Selecting a computer system for the
clinical laboratory. Springfield: Thomas; 1971. p. 3–4.
10. Ball MJ. Specifications for a laboratory data processing system. Appendix E. In: Ball MJ,
editor. Selecting a computer system for the clinical laboratory. Springfield: Thomas; 1971.
p. 96–106.
11. Ball MJ. Available computer systems. In: Ball MJ, editor. Selecting a computer system for
the clinical laboratory. Springfield: Thomas; 1971. p. 54–73.
12. Ball MJ. Survey of pathologists’ experiences in computerization. In: Ball MJ, editor.
Selecting a computer system for the clinical laboratory. Springfield: Thomas; 1971. p. 14–20.
13. Ball MJ. Selecting a computer system for the clinical laboratory. Springfield: Thomas; 1971.
14. Baorto DM, Cimino JJ, Parvin CA, Kahn MG. Using Logical Observation Identifier Names
and Codes (LOINC) to exchange laboratory data among three academic hospitals. Proc
AMIA. 1997;96–100.
15. Barnett GO, Hofmann PB. Computer technology and patient care: experiences of a hospital
research effort. Inquiry. 1968;5:51–7.
16. Barnett GO, Castleman PA. A time-sharing computer system for patient-care activities.
Comput Biomed Res. 1967;1:41–51.
17. Barnett GO, Souder D, Beaman P, Hupp J. MUMPS – an evolutionary commentary. Comput
Biomed Res. 1981;14:112–8.
18. Barnett G, Greenes RA. Interface aspects of a hospital information system. Ann N Y Acad
Sci. 1969;161:756–68.
19. Barnett GO. Massachusetts general hospital computer system. In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital
computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974.
20. Barnett GO, Greenes RA, Grossman JH. Computer processing of medical text information.
Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:177–82.
21. Barrett JP, Hersch PL, Caswell RJ. Evaluation of the impact of the implementation of the
Technicon Medical Information System at El Camino Hospital. Part II: economic trend anal-
ysis. Final report 1972; p. 27.
22. Bassis ML, Collen M. Normal chemistry values in an automated multiphasic screening pro-
gram. In; Proc Technicon Symposium 1986. Automation in Analytical Chemistry. White
Plains: Mediad; 1987. p. 309–12.
23. Bates JE, Bessman JD. Evaluation of BCDE, a microcomputer program to analyze automated
blood counts and differentials. Am J Clin Pathol. 1987;88:314–23.
24. Benson ES. Research and educational initiatives in improving the use of the clinical labora-
tory [proceedings. Ann Biol Clin (Paris). 1978;36:159–61.
25. Benzel JE, Egan JJ, Hart OJ, et al. Evaluation of an automated leukocyte counting system. II.
Normal cell identification. Am J Clin Path. 1974;62:530–6.
26. Biemann K. The role of computers in conjunction with analytical instrumentation. Proc
IEEE. 1979;67:1287–99.
27. Birndorf NI, Pentecost JO, Coakley JR, Spackman KA. An expert system to diagnose anemia
and report results directly on hematology forms. Comput Biomed Res. 1996;29:16–26.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 583
28. Bleich HL, Beckley RF, Horowitz GL, Jackson JD, Moody ES, Franklin C, et al. Clinical
computing in a teaching hospital. N Engl J Med. 1985;312:756–64.
29. Bleich H. Computer evaluation of acid-based disorders. J Clin Invest. 1969;48:1689–96.
30. Blois MS. In: Enlander D, editor. Incorporation of clinical laboratory information systems
into the hospital information system. New York: Academic; 1975.
31. Blomberg DJ, Ladley JL, Fattu JM, Patrick EA. The use of an expert system in the clinical
laboratory as an aid in the diagnosis of anemia. Am J Clin Pathol. 1987;87:608–13.
32. Blum BI. A history of computers. In: Blum B, editor. Clinical information systems. New York:
Springer; 1986. p. 1–32.
33. Bollinger PB, Drewinko B, Brailas CD, Smeeton NA, Trujillo JM. The technicon H* 1 – an
automated hematology analyzer for today and tomorrow. Complete blood count parameters.
Am J Clin Pathol. 1987;87:71–8.
34. Brient K. Barcoding facilitates patient-focused care. Healthc Inform. 1995;12:38. 40, 42.
35. Brittin GM. The impact of automation in hematology on patient care. New York: Technicon
International Congress; 1972.
36. Bronzino JD. Computerization concepts in the clinical laboratory. In: Bronzino JD, editor.
Computer applications for patient care. Menlo Park: Addison-Wesley; 1982. p. 117–37.
37. Bronzino JD. Computers and patient care. In: Bronzino JD, editor. Technology for patient
care. Saint Louis: C.V. Mosby; 1977. p. 57–102.
38. BSL. Berkeley Scientific Laboratories. A study of automated clinical laboratory systems: US
health services and mental health administration. Available from National Technical
Information Service, Springfield; 1971.
39. Buchanan NS. Evolution of a hospital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:34–6.
40. Bull BS, Korpman RA. The clinical laboratory computer-system-who is it for? Arch Pathol
Lab Med. 1980;104:449–51.
41. Bush IE. Trouble with medical computers. Perspect Biol Med. 1979;600–20.
42. Clark WA, Molnar CE. A description of the LINC. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research, vol. II. New York: Academic; 1965. p. 35–65.
43. Clark JS, Veasley LG, Jung AL, Jenkins JL. Automated PO2, PCO2, and pH monitoring of
infants. Comp Biomed Res. 1971;4:262–74.
44. Collen MF, Rubin L, Davis L. Computers in multiphasic screening. In: Stacy RW, Waxman
BD, editors. Computers in biomedical research, vol. I. New York: Academic; 1965.
45. Collen MF. The Permanente Medical Group and the Kaiser Foundation Research Institute.
In: McLean ER, Soden JV, editors. Strategic planning for MIS. New York: Wiley; 1977.
p. 257–71.
46. Collen MF. Machine diagnosis from a multiphasic screening program. Proc of 5th IBM
Medical Symposium; 1963. p. 1–23.
47. Collen MF. Multiphasic health testing services. New York: Wiley; 1978.
48. Collen MF. Periodic health examinations using an automated multitest laboratory. JAMA.
1966;195:830–3.
49. Collen MF, Terdiman JF. Technology of multiphasic patient screening. Annu Rev Biophys
Bioeng. 1973;2:103–14.
50. Collen MF, Rubin L, Neyman J, Dantzig GB, Baer RM, Siegelaub AB. Automated multipha-
sic screening and diagnosis. Am J Public Health Nation Health. 1964;54:741–50.
51. Collen MF, Feldman R, Sieglaub AB, Crawford D. Dollar cost per positive text for automated
multiphasic screening. New Engl J Med. 1970;283(9):459–63.
52. Connelly D. Communicating laboratory results effectively; the role of graphical displays.
Proc AAMSI Cong. 1983;113–5.
53. Connelly DP. Embedding expert systems in laboratory information systems. Am J Clin
Pathol. 1990;94:S7–14.
54. Connelly DP, Willard KE. Monte Carlo simulation and the clinical laboratory. Arch Pathol
Lab Med. 1989;113:750–7.
55. Connelly DP, Sielaff BH, Scott EP. ESPRE – expert system for platelet request evaluation.
Am J Clin Pathol. 1990;94:S19–24.
584 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
56. Connelly DP, Glaser JP, Chou D. A structured approach to evaluating and selecting clinical
laboratory information systems. Pathologists. 1984;38:714–20.
57. Connelly DP, Gatewood LC, Chou DC. Computers in laboratory medicine and pathology. An
educational program. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1981;105:59.
58. Constandse WJ. The use of a computer installation for a general purpose laboratory informa-
tion system. Proc of the 6th IBM Medical Symposium. 1964. p. 495–544.
59. Cordle F, Boltjes BH. Electronic data logging and statistical evaluation in medical microbiol-
ogy. Proc of the San Diego Biomedical Symposium. 1962;2:100.
60. Coutts A, Hjelm VJ, Kingsley GR, Betz GP. Multiple laboratory testing in a large federal
hospital. Autom Anal Chem. 1968;1:151.
61. Cunnick WR, Cromie JB, Cortell R. Value of biochemical profiling in a periodic health
examination program: analysis of 1000 cases. In: Davies DF, Tchobanoff JB, editors. Health
evaluation: an entry to the health care system. New York: Intercontinental Medical Book
Corp; 1973. p. 172–88.
62. Cutler JL, Collen MF, Siegelaub AB, Feldman R. Normal values for multiphasic screening
blood chemistry tests. Adv Autom Anal. 1969;3:71.
63. Dayhoff RE, Ledley RS, Zeller JA, Park CM, Shiu MR. Platelet aggregation studies using
TEXAC whole picture analysis. Proc SCAMC. 1978;31–6.
64. Debauche R, De Laey P. Evaluation of the Hemalog D system in a hospital clinical labora-
tory. In: Barton EC, editor. Advances in automated analysis. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1976.
p. 294–311.
65. Demuth AI. Automated ICD-9-CM coding: an inevitable trend to expert systems. Health Care
Commun. 1985;2:62–5.
66. Dinio RC, Ramirez G, Pribor HC. Pattern recognition of SMA 12 values as a diagnostic tool.
In: Barton ED, et al., editors. Advances in automated analysis. Miami: Thurman Associates;
1970. p. 201–9.
67. Dorenfest SI. The decade of the 1980s: large expenditures produce limited progress in hospi-
tal automation. US Healthc. 1989;6:20–2.
68. Dove HG, Hierholzer Jr W. An integrated, microcomputer based infection control system.
Proc MEDINFO. 1986;486–7.
69. Drewinko B, Wallace B, Flores C, Crawford RW, Trujillo JM. Computerized hematology:
operation of a high-volume hematology laboratory. Am J Clin Pathol. 1977;67:64–76.
70. Dutcher TF, Desmond SA, Greenfield L. A computer program for use in the evaluation of
multichannel laboratory instruments. Am J Clin Pathol. 1971;55:302.
71. Dutcher TF, Benzel JE, Egan JJ, Hart DJ, Christopher EA. Evaluation of an automated dif-
ferential leukocyte counting system. I. Instrument description and reproducibility studies.
Am J Clin Pathol. 1974;62:525.
72. Egan JJ, Benzel JE, Hart DJ, Christopher EA. Evaluation of an automated differential leuko-
cyte counting system. 3. Detection of abnormal cells. Am J Clin Pathol. 1974;62:537–44.
73. Eggert AA, Emmerich KA, Spiegel CA, Smulka GJ, Horstmeier PA, Weisensel MJ. The
development of a third generation system for entering microbiology data into a clinical labo-
ratory information system. J Med Syst. 1988;12:365–82.
74. Elbert EE, O’Connor M. Combined use of the Hamalog 8 and hemalog D online to a labora-
tory computer system. In: Barton EC, editor. Advances in automated analysis. Tarrytown:
Mediad; 1976. p. 365–75.
75. Elevitch FR, Boroviczeny KG. A proposed international standard for interlaboratory infor-
mation exchange. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1985;109:496–8.
76. Enlander D. Computer data processing of medical diagnoses in pathology. Am J Clin Pathol.
1975;63:538–44.
77. Esterhay Jr R, Foy JL, Lewis TL. Hospital information systems: approaches to screen defini-
tion: compartive anatomy of the PROMIS, NIH and Duke systems. Proc SCAMC.
1982;903–11.
78. Evans RS, Gardner RM, Burke JP, Pestotnik SL, Larsen RA, Classen DC, et al. A computer-
ized approach to monitor prophylactic antibiotics. Proc SCAMC. 1987;241–5.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 585
79. Evans RS, Larsen RA, Burke JP, Gardner RM, Meier FA, Jacobson JA, et al. Computer sur-
veillance of hospital-acquired infections and antibiotic use. JAMA. 1986;256:1007–11.
80. Evenson MA, Hicks GP, Keenan JA, Larson FC. Application of an online data acquisition
system using the LINC computer in the clinical chemistry laboratory. In; Automation in
analytical chemistry. White Plains: Mediad; 1968. p. 137–40.
81. Fetter RR, Mills RE. A micro computer based medical information system. Proc 2nd Annual
WAMI Meeting. 1979. p. 388–91.
82. Forrey AW, McDonald CJ, DeMoor G, Huff SM, Leavelle D, Leland D, et al. Logical obser-
vation identifier names and codes (LOINC) database: a public use set of codes and names for
electronic reporting of clinical laboratory test results. Clin Chem. 1996;42:81–90.
83. Frey R, Girardi S, Wiederhold G. A filing system for medical research. Int J Biomed Comput.
1971;2:1–26.
84. Friedman BA. Informating, not automating, the medical record. J Med Syst.
1989;13:221–5.
85. Friedman RB, Bruce D, MacLowry J, Brenner V. Computer-assisted identification of bacte-
ria. Am J Clin Pathol. 1973;395–403.
86. Gall J. In: van Egmond J, de Vries Robbe PF, Levy AH, editors. Computerized hospital infor-
mation system cost-effectiveness: a case study. Amsterdam: North Holland; 1976.
p. 281–93.
87. Gall J. Cost-benefit analysis: total hospital informatics. In: Koza RC, editor. Health informa-
tion systems evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 299–327.
88. Gardner RM, Pryor TA, Warner HR. The HELP hospital information system: update 1998.
Int J Med Inform. 1999;54:169–82.
89. Gardner RM, Pryor TA, Clayton PD, Evans RS. Integrated computer network for acute
patient care. Proc SCAMC. 1984;185–8.
90. Genre CF. Using the computer to manage change in the clinical pathology lab. In: Ball MJ
et al., editors. Healthcare information management systems. New York: Springer; 1995.
p. 267–82.
91. Giebink GA, Hurst LL. Computer projects in health care. Ann Arbor: Health Administration
Press; 1975.
92. Gralnick HR, Abrams E, Griveber H, Koziol J. Evaluation of the hemalog system. In:
Advances in automated analyses. Proc Technicon International Congress 1972. Tarrytown:
Mediad; 1972. p. 9–14.
93. Grams RR, Johnson EA, Benson ES. Laboratory data analysis system. VI. System summary.
Am J Clin Pathol. 1972;58:216–9.
94. Grams RR, Thomas RG. Cost analysis of a laboratory information system (LIS). J Med Syst.
1977;1:27–36.
95. Grams RR. Medical information systems: the laboratory module. Clifton: Humana Press;
1979.
96. Greenes RA, Pappalardo AN, Marble CW, Barnett GO. Design and implementation of a
clinical data management system. Comput Biomed Res. 1969;2:469–85.
97. Greenes RA, Barnett GO, Klein SW, Robbins A, Prior RE. Recording, retrieval and review
of medical data by physician-computer interaction. N Engl J Med. 1970;282:307–15.
98. Greenhalgh PJ, Mulholland SG. An automated infection surveillance system. Hospitals.
1972;46:66. passim.
99. Grossman JH, Barnet GO, McGuire MT, Swedlow DB. Evaluation of computer-acquired
patient histories. JAMA. 1971;215:1286–91.
100. Grossman JH, Barnett GO, Koepsell TD, Nesson HR, Dorsey JL, Phillips RR. An automated
medical record system. JAMA. 1973;224:1616–21.
101. Groves WE, Gajewski WH. Use of a clinical laboratory computer to warn of possible drug
interference with test results. Proc of the 16th annual Southeast regional conference. 1978.
p. 192–200.
102. Hammond WE. GEMISCH. A minicomputer information support system. Proc IEEE.
1973;61:1575–83.
586 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
103. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. Planned networking for medical information sys-
tems. Proc SCAMC. 1985;727–31.
104. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. An interface between a hospital information system
and a computerized medical record. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1537–40.
105. Haug HH, Muller H, Schneider W. Comparative study of differential white cell counting with
histochemical (Hemalog D) and morphologic methods. In: Barton EC, editor. Advances in
automated analysis. Proc Technicon International Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977.
p. 325–9.
106. Healy JC, Spackman KA, Beck JR. Small expert systems in clinical pathology: are they use-
ful? Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1989;113:981–3.
107. Hicks GP. Chip technology. Its influence on the distribution of laboratory data and procedures
in the 1980s. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1981;105:341.
108. Hodge MH. Medical information systems: a resource for hospitals. Germantown: Aspen
Publishers; 1977.
109. Hosty TA, Lundberg GD, Krieg AF, Marquardt VC, Sinton EB, Wertman B. So a laboratory
computer system sounds like a good idea? Pathologists. 1979;33:293–6.
110. Hripcsak G, Allen B, Cimino JJ, Lee R. Access to data: comparing AccessMed with query by
review. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 1996;3:288–99.
111. Jacobs H. A natural language information retrieval system. Methods Inf Med. 1968;7:8.
112. Johns CJ, Simborg DW, Blum BI, Starfield BH. A minirecord: an aid to continuity of care.
Johns Hopkins Med J. 1977;140:277–84.
113. Jorgensen JH, Holmes P, Williams WL, Harris JL. Computerization of a hospital clinical
microbiology laboratory. Am J Clin Pathol. 1978;69:605–14.
114. Jungner I, Jungner G. The autochemist as a laboratory screening instrument. In: Benson ES,
Strandjord PE, editors. Multiple laboratory screening. New York: Academic; 1969. p. 71–9.
115. Karcher RE, Foreback CC. A comparison of selected SMAC channels to other commonly
utilized laboratory instruments. In: Barton EC et al., editors. Advances in automated analysis.
Proc Technicon International Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 191–6.
116. Kassirer JP, Brand DH, Schwartz WB. An automated system for data processing in the meta-
bolic balance laboratory. Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:181–96.
117. Klee GG, Cox C, Purnell D, Kao P. Use of reference data in the interpretation of parathyroid
hormone measurements. Proc SCAMC. 1984;398–1.
118. Klee GG, Ackerman E, Elveback LR, Gatewood LC, Pierre RV, O’Sullivan M. Investigation
of statistical decision rules for sequential hematologic laboratory tests. Am J Clin Pathol.
1978;69:375–82.
119. Krause JR. Automated differentials in the hematology laboratory. Am J Clin Pathol.
1990;93:S11–6.
120. Kuperman GJ, Gardner RM, Pryor TA. The pharmacy application of the HELP system. In:
Kuperman GJ, Gardner RM, Pryor TA, editors. HELP: a dynamic hospital information sys-
tem. New York: Springer; 1991. p. 168–72.
121. Kuperman GJ, Jonathan M, Tanasijevic MJ, Ma’Luf N, Rittenberg E, Jha A, et al. Improving
response to critical laboratory results with automation results of a randomized controlled
trial. J Am Med Inform Assoc. 1999;6:512–22.
122. Lamson BG. Mini-computers and large central processors from a medical record manage-
ment point of view. International Symposium on Medical Information Systems. 1975.
p. 58–65.
123. Lamson BG, Russell WS, Fullmore J, Nix WE. The first decade of effort: progress toward a
hospital information system at the UCLA Hospital, Los Angeles, California. Methods Inf
Med. 1970;9:73–80.
124. Lamson BG. Storage and retrieval of medical diagnostic statements in full English text.
Proceedings of the First Conference on the Use of Computers in Radiology. 1966. p.
D34–43.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 587
125. Lamson BG. Computer assisted data processing in laboratory medicine. In: Stacy RW,
Waxman BD, editors. Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1965.
p. 353–76.
126. Levine JB. SMA II: the quiet revolution. Advances in automated analysis. Proc Technicon
International Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 112–20.
127. Lewis JW. Commentary: clinical laboratory information systems. Proc IEEE.
1979;67:1299–300.
128. Lewis JW, Marr JJ. Use of a small laboratory computer for identification of the
Enterobacteriaceae. J Med Syst. 1977;1:23–6.
129. Lincoln TL. Health care and the sociotechnical workplace. Arch Pathol Lab Med.
1986;110:306–7.
130. Lincoln TL. Computers in the clinical laboratory: what we have learned. Med Instrum.
1978;12:233–6.
131. Lincoln TL, Aller RD. Acquiring a laboratory computer system. Vendor selection and con-
tracting. Clin Lab Med. 1991;11:21–40.
132. Lincoln T. An historical perspective on clinical laboratory systems. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA,
editors. A history of medical informatics. New York: Addison-Wesley; 1990. p. 267–77.
133. Lincoln TL. Hospital information systems what lies behind friendliness and flexibility?
Inform Health Soc Care. 1984;9:255–63.
134. Lincoln TL. Medical information science: a joint endeavor. JAMA. 1983;249:610–2.
135. Lincoln TL, Korpman RA. Computers, health care, and medical information science. Science.
1980;210:257–63.
136. Lindberg D. Impact of public policy on the development, adoption, and diffusion of medical
information systems technology. Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Office; 1978.
137. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
138. Lindberg D. Electronic retrieval of clinical data. J Med Educ. 1965;40:753–9.
139. Lindberg D. Operation of a hospital computer system. J Am Vet Med Assoc.
1965;147:1541–4.
140. Lindberg D. A computer in medicine. Mo Med. 1964;61:282–4.
141. Lindberg D, Reese GR. Automatic measurement and computer processing of bacterial growth
data. Biomedical sciences instrumentation. Proc of the 1st National Biomedical Sciences
Instrumentation Symposium. 1963. p. 11–20.
142. Lindberg DA, Van Pelnan HJ, Couch HD. Patterns in clinical chemistry. Am J Clin Pathol.
1965;44:315–21.
143. Lindberg D, Gaston LW, Kingsland LC. A knowledge-based system for consultation about
blood coagulation studies. In: The human side of computers in medicine. Proc Soc for
Computer Med 10th Annual Conf. 1980. p. 5.
144. Lindberg D, Vanpeenen HJ, Couch RD. Patters in clinical chemistry. Low serum sodium and
chloride in hospitalized patients. Am J Clin Pathol. 1965;44:315–21.
145. Lindberg D, Reese GR, Buck C. Computer generated hospital diagnosis file. Mo Med.
1964;61:581. 2 PASSIM.
146. Lucas FV, Lincoln TL, Kinney TD. Clinical laboratory science. A look to the future. Lab
Investig. 1969;20:400–4.
147. Lupovitch A, Memminger J, Corr RM. Manual and computerized cumulative reporting sys-
tems for the clinical microbiology laboratory. Am J Clin Pathol. 1979;72:841–7.
148. Lyman M, Chi E, Sager N. Automated case review of acute bacterial meningitis of childhood.
Proc MEDINFO. 1983;790–3.
149. Maturi VF, DuBois RM. Recent trends in computerized medical information systems for
hospital departments. Proc SCAMC.1980;3:1541–49.
150. McClure S, Bates JE, Harrison R, Gilmer PR, Bessman JD. The “diff-if”. Use of microcom-
puter analysis to triage blood specimens for microscopic examination. Am J Clin Pathol.
1988;90:163–8.
588 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
151. McColligan E, Blum B, Brunn C. An automated care medical record system for ambulatory
care. Proc SCM/SAMS Joint Conf on Ambulatory Care. 1981. p. 72–6.
152. McDonald CJ. The medical gopher: a microcomputer based physician work station. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;453–9.
153. McDonald CJ. Action-oriented decisions in ambulatory medicine. Chicago: Year Book
Medical Publishers; 1981.
154. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. Computer-stored medical records: their future role in medical
practice. JAMA. 1988;259:3433–40.
155. McDonald CJ, Murray R, Jeris D, et al. A computer-based record and clinical monitoring
system for ambulatory care. Am J Public Health. 1977;67:240–5.
156. McDonald CJ, Wilson G, Blevins L, Seeger J, et al. The Regenstrief medical record system.
Proc SCAMC. 1977;168-9.
157. McDonald CJ, Overhage JM, Tierney WM, et al. The Regenstrief medical record system: a
quarter century experience. Int J Med Inform. 1999;54:225–53.
158. McHenry LE, Parker PK, Branch B. Simultaneous platelet counts, in conjunction with
Hemalog D analyses, utilizing the Technicon AutoCounter system. Advances in Automated
Analysis. Proc Technicon International Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 376–80.
159. McLaughlin. Alphanumeric display terminal survey. Datamation. 1973;20:71–92.
160. Michalski RS, Baskin AB, Spackman KA. A logic-based approach to conceptual data base
analysis. Inform Health Soc Care. 1983;8:187–95.
161. Miller R, Causey J, Moore G, Wilk G. Development and operation of a MUMPS laboratory
information system: a decade’s experience. Proc SCAMC. 1988;654–8.
162. Miller RE, Steinbach GL, Dayhoff RE. A hierarchical computer network: an alternative
approach to clinical laboratory computerization in a large hospital. Proc SCAMC.
1980;32–8.
163. Morey R, Adams MC, Laga E. Factors to be considered in computerizing a clinical chemistry
department of a large city hospital. Proc AFIPS. 1971;477–90.
164. Myers J, Gelblat M, Enterline HT. Automatic encoding of pathology data. Computer-readable
surgical pathology data as a by-product of typed pathology reports. Arch Pathol. 1970;89:73.
165. Neeley WE. Computer calculation of electronic platelet counts. Am J Clin Pathol.
1972;58:33–6.
166. Newald J. Hospitals look to computerization of physician office linkage. Hospitals.
1987;61:92–4.
167. Norbut AM, Foulis PR, Krieg AF. Microcomputer reporting and information system for
microbiology. Am J Clin Pathol. 1981;76:50–6.
168. O’Connor M, McKinney T. The diagnosis of microcytic anemia by a rule-based expert sys-
tem using VP-Expert. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1989;113:985–8.
169. Okubo RS, Russell WS, Dimsdale B, Lamson BG. Natural language storage and retrieval of
medical diagnostic information: experience at the UCLA hospital and clinics over a 10-year
period. Comput Prog Biomed. 1975;5:105–30.
170. Polacsek RA. The fourth annual medical software buyer’s guide. MD Comput.
1987;4:23–136.
171. Pratt AW, Pacak M. Automatic processing of medical english. Reprinted by US Dept HEW,
NIH 1969; 1969a.
172. Pratt AW, Pacak M. Identification and transformation of terminal morphemes in medical
English. Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:84–90.
173. Pryor TA. A note on filtering electrocardiograms. Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4(5):542–7.
174. Quam K. The DNA, automated clinical laboratory system. Am J Med Technol.
1975;41:228–31.
175. Rappaport AE, Gennaro WD. The economics of computer-coupled automation in the clinical
chemistry department of the Youngstown Hospital Association. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD,
editors. Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic Press; 1974. p. 215–24.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 589
176. Ratliff CR, Casey AE, Kelly J. Use of the SMA 4 AutoAnalyzer in a central hematology
service. Automation in analytical chemistry. Proc Technicon Symposium. Whites Plains:
Mediad; 1968. p. 193–9.
177. Raymond S. Criteria in the choice of a computer system. I. The computer in theory. JAMA.
1974;228:591–4.
178. Raymond S. Criteria in the choice of a computer system. II. The computer in practice. JAMA.
1974;228:1015–7.
179. Reece RL, Hobbie RK. Computer evaluation of chemistry values: a reporting and diagnostic
aid. Am J Clin Pathol. 1972;57:664–75.
180. Robinson III RE. Acquisition and analysis of narrative medical record data. Comput Biomed
Res. 1970;3:495–509.
181. Rodbard D, Jaffe M, Beveridge M, Pernick N. A data management program to assist with
home monitoring of blood glucose and self adjustment of insulin dosage for patients with
diabetes mellitus and their physicians. Proc SCAMC. 1984;321–4.
182. Rosner SW, Palmer A, Caceres CA. A computer program for computation and interpretation
of pulmonary function data. Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:141–56.
183. Rosvoll RV, Mengason AP, Smith L, Patel HJ, Maynard J, Connor F. Visual and automated
differential leukocyte counts. A comparison study of three instruments. Am J Clin Pathol.
1979;71:695–703.
184. Rowberg A, Lee S. Use of a desk-top calculator to interpret acid-base data. Am J Clin Pathol.
1973;59:180.
185. Rush RL, Nabb DP. Bringing it all together on three SMAC systems. In: Barton EC, editor.
Advances in automated analysis. Proc Technicon Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977.
p. 376–80.
186. Salwen M, Wallach J. Interpretative analysis of hematologic data using a combination of
decision making technologies. MEDCOMP. 1982;3:428.
187. Schoentag RA, Pedersen JT. Evaluation of an automated blood smear analyzer. Am J Clin
Pathol. 1979;71:685–94.
188. Schultz JR, Davis L. The technology of PROMIS. Proc IEEE. 1979;67:1237–44.
189. Seligson D. Observations regarding laboratory instrumentation and screening analysis. In:
Benson ES, Strandjord PE, editors. Multiple laboratory screening. New York: Academic;
1969. p. 87–119.
190. Shieman BM. Medical information system, El Camino Hospital. IMS Ind Med Surg.
1971;40:25–6.
191. Shim H, Uh Y, Lee SH, Yoon YR. A new specimen management system using RFID technol-
ogy. J Med Syst. 2011;35:1403–12.
192. Siegel SJ. Developing an information system for a hospital. Public Health Rep.
1968;83:359–62.
193. Simborg DW, Macdonald LK, Liebman JS, Musco P. Ward information-management system:
an evaluation. Comput Biomed Res. 1972;5:484–97.
194. Simmons A, Schwabbauer M, Earhart C. A fully automated platelet counting apparatus. In:
Advances in automated analysis. Proc Technicon International Congress. Miami: Thurman
Associates. 1971. p. 413–5.
195. Skeggs LT. An automatic method for colorimetric analysis. Am J Clin Pathol.
1957;28:311–22.
196. Skeggs LT, Hochstrasser H. Multiple automatic sequential analysis. Clin Chem.
1964;10:918–36.
197. Slack WV, Bleich HL. The CCC system in two teaching hospitals: a progress report. Int J
Med Inform. 1999;54:183–96.
198. Smith Jr JW, Svirbely JR. Laboratory information systems. MD Comput. 1988;5:38–47.
199. Smith Jr JW, Speicher CE, Chandrasekaran B. Expert systems as aids for interpretive report-
ing. J Med Syst. 1984;8:373–88.
590 M.F. Collen and R.E. Miller
200. Smith Jr JW, Svirbely JR, Evans CA, Strohm P, Josephson JR, Tanner M. RED: a red-cell
antibody identification expert module. J Med Syst. 1985;9:121–38.
201. Smith JW, Svirbely JR. Laboratory information systems. In: Shortliffe EH, Perreault LE, edi-
tors. Medical informatics: computer applications in health care. Reading: Addison-Wesley;
1990. p. 273–97.
202. Smythe WJ, Shamos MH, Morgenstern S, Skeggs LT. SMA 12/60: a new sequential multiple
analysis instrument. Automation in analytical chemistry. Proc Technicon Symposium. White
Plains: Mediad; 1968. p. 105–13.
203. Sneider RM. Using a medical information system to improve the quality of patient care. Proc
SCAMC. 1978;594–7.
204. Snyder LR, Leon LP. New chemical methods for SMAC. In: Barton EC, editor. Advances in
automated analysis. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 186–90.
205. Speedie SM, Palumbo FB, Knapp DA, Beardsley R. Evaluating physician decision making:
a rule-based system for drug prescribing review. Proc MEDCOMP. 1982;404–8
206. Speedie SM, Skarupa S, Blaschke TF, Kondo J, Leatherman E, Perreault L. MENTOR: inte-
gration of an expert system with a hospital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1987;220–4.
207. Speicher CE, Smith JW. Communication between laboratory and clinician: test requests and
interpretive reports. In: Speicher CE, Smith JW, editors. Choosing effective laboratory tests.
Philadelphia: Saunders; 1983. p. 93–108.
208. Speicher CE, Smith JW. Interpretive reporting in clinical pathology. JAMA.
1980;243:1556–60.
209. Spencer WA. An opinion survey of computer applications in 149 hospitals in the USA,
Europe and Japan. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:215–34.
210. Stacy RW, Waxman BD. Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1974.
211. Stauffer M, Clayson KJ, Roby RJ, Strandjord PE. A computer-assisted system: thyroid dis-
ease. Am J Clin Pathol. 1974;62:766–74.
212. Stead WW, Hammond WE. Computer-based medical records: the centerpiece of TMR. MD
Comput. 1988;5:48–62.
213. Stead WW, Hammond WE, Winfree RG. Beyond a basic HIS: work stations for department
management. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 197–9.
214. Steinbach G, Miller R. A dual processor standard MUMPS system with load-sharing and
provision for rapid hardware backup. MUMPS Users Group Q. 1981;11:32–8.
215. Sterling RT, O’Connor M, Hopkins 3rd M, Dunlevy BE. Red blood cell antibody identifica-
tion and confirmation using commercial panels. A computer program for the IBM personal
computer. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1986;110:219–23.
216. Streed SA, Hierholzer WJ. Analysis of five years’ experience using an on-line infection data
management system. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;86:26–30.
217. Takasugi S, Lindberg D. Information content of clinical blood chemistry data. Proc MedINFO.
1980;432–5.
218. Talamo TS, Losos 3rd F, Kessler GF. Microcomputer assisted interpretative reporting of pro-
tein electrophoresis data. Am J Clin Pathol. 1982;77:726–30.
219. Taswell HF, Nicholson LL, Cochran ML. Use of a 15-channel blood grouping AutoAnalyzer
for patient typing. Technicon International Congress. 1973. p. 57–8.
220. Tatch D. Automatic encoding of medical diagnoses. 6th IBM Medical Symposium. 1964.
p. 1–7.
221. Teich JM, Glaser JP, Beckley RF, Aranow M, Bates DW, Kuperman GJ, et al. The Brigham
integrated computing system (BICS): advanced clinical systems in an academic hospital
environment. Int J Med Inform. 1999;54:197–208.
222. Terdiman JF, Collen MF. Kaiser-Permanente patient computer medical record-past experi-
ence and future goals. Proc Assoc Inf Sci. 1976;13:27.
223. Terdiman JF. Mass random storage devices and their application to a Medical Information
System (MIS). Comput Biomed Res. 1970;3:528–38.
12 Clinical Laboratory (LAB) Information Systems 591
224. Tilzer LL, Jones RW. Use of bar code labels on collection tubes for specimen management in
the clinical laboratory. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1988;112:1200–2.
225. Tolchin SG, Barta W. Local network and distributed processing issues in the Johns Hopkins
Hospital. J Med Syst. 1986;10:339–53.
226. Ulirsch RC, Ashwood ER, Noce P. Security in the clinical laboratory. Guidelines for manag-
ing the information resource. Arch Pathol Lab Med. 1990;114:89–93.
227. Upton RC, Spaet TH, La Mantia J. Automatic platelet counting with the AutoAnalyer. In;
Automation in analytical chemistry. Proc Technicon Symp 1967, Vol 1. White Plains:
Mediad; 1967. p. 197–9.
228. Vallbona C, Spencer WA. Texas institute for research and rehabilitation hospital computer
system (Houston). In: Collen MF, editor. Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley;
1974. p. 662–700.
229. Vermeulen GD, Schwab SV, Young VM, Hsieh RK. A computerized system for clinical
microbiology. Am J Clin Pathol. 1972;57:413–8.
230. Warner HF. A computer-based information system for patient care. In: Bekey GA, Schartz
MD, editors. Hospital information systems. New York: Marcel Dekker; 1972. pp 293–332.
231. Watson RJ. A large-scale professionally oriented medical information system – five years
later. J Med Syst. 1977;1:3–21.
232. Waxman BD. Biomedical computing: 1965. Ann NY Acad Sci. 1966;128:723–30.
233. Weant BD. Evaluation of the Technicon B G automated blood grouping systems. Proc 1976
Technicon Internatl Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 438–45.
234. Weed LL. The patient’s record as an extension of the basic science training of the physician;
rules for recording data in the clinical record; presentation of case examples and flow sheets.
Cleveland: Cleveland Metropolitan General Hospital, School of Medicine, Western Reserve
University; 1967.
235. Weilert M. Implementing an information system. Clin Lab Med. 1983;3:233–50.
236. Wertlake PT. Integrated hospital and laboratory computer system vital to hospital laboratory.
7th Technicon Internatl Congress 1976. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 438–45.
237. Weschler W, Allens S, Negersmith K. Hemalog: an automated hematology laboratory sys-
tem. In: Advances in automated analysis. Proc 1970 Technicon Internatl Congress. Miami:
Thurman Associates; 1971. p. 431–6.
238. Williams BT, Foote CF, Galassie C, Schaeffer RC. Augmented physician interactive medical
record. Proc MEDINFO. 1989;779–83.
239. Williams BT, Chen TT, Schultz DF, Moll JD, Flood JR, Elston J. PLATO-based medical
information system – variable keyboards. Proc 2nd Conference on Medical Info Systems.
1975. p. 56–61.
240. Williams BT. Computer aids to clinical decisions. Boca Raton: CRC Press; 1982.
241. Williams GZ, Williams RL. Clinical laboratory subsystem. In: Collen M, editor. Hospital
computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 148–93.
242. Wintrobe MM. The clinicians’ expectation of the laboratory in the remote and recent past and
in the future. In: Advances in automated analysis. Proc 1976 Technicon International
Congress. Tarrytown: Mediad; 1977. p. 288–93.
243. Wise WS. Microcomputer infection surveillance system. Proc SCAMC. 1984;215–9.
244. Wolf PL. Utilization of computers in biochemical profiling. In: Enlander D, editor. Computers
in laboratory medicine. New York: Academic; 1975. p. 81–101.
245. Wolf PL, Ludwig HR, Vallee JF. Progress toward a direct-access hematology data-base. Arch
Pathol. 1971;91:542–9.
246. Yoder RD. Computational augmentation of blood gas measurements. Proceedings of the
1971 26th annual conference. 1971. p. 701–5.
247. Young EM, Brian EW, Hardy DR, Kaplan A, Childerston JK. Evaluation of automated hos-
pital data management systems (AHDMS). Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:651.
248. Yountness E, Derwinko B. A computer-based reporting system for bone marrow evaluation.
Am J Clin Pathol. 1978;69:333–41.
Chapter 13
Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory
Information Systems and Natural Language
Processing: Early History
Anatomic Pathology is the branch of medicine that studies the structural (histo-
logic) and functional (disease-related) disturbances caused by pathophysiologic
changes in tissues and organs of the body. The pathologist in a medical center tradi-
tionally directs both the anatomic pathology (AP) department and the clinical
pathology (CP) or laboratory medicine. In an anatomic pathology department, sev-
eral types of reports are produced including surgical pathology, molecular pathol-
ogy, hematopathology, cytology and autopsy reports which are managed by an
Anatomic Pathology Laboratory Information System (APLIS). This chapter focuses
on AP systems and not CP systems. Details on the CPLIS or clinical pathology
systems are provided in Chap. 12.
Surgical pathology is a pathology subdiscipline of Anatomic Pathology that
receives either tissue specimens with an accompanying requisition for gross exami-
nation or specimen slides (usually as part of secondary consultation) for micro-
scopic examination [59]. After completing the examination, the pathologist
transmits back a surgical pathology report that is a description of the macroscopic
and microscopic characteristics of a tissue specimen, with an interpretation of the
pathologist’s findings, and provides a diagnosis as well as guiding comments to the
treating physician. Traditionally, the recording, processing, and storage of surgical
pathology reports had been carried out by manual as well as automated methods. In
the 1960s, punched cards were used for data entry and for requests for data retrieval
[40]. By the 1970s, interactive cathode ray tube (CRT) terminals with keyboards
were the usual mode for entering and retrieving data for APLIS systems. By the
1980s, computer-based natural language processing (NLP) systems were beginning
to appearing in APLIS systems [8]. After the 2000s, surgical pathology reports were
mostly dictated, transcribed and stored in APLIS systems.
A cytology report by a pathologist describes the microscopic findings of stained
smears of fluids, secretions, fine needle aspirates of solid tissue as well as tissue
brushings from the body; except that blood and bone marrow smears are usually
examined and reported from the hematopathology (or hematology) division of the
laboratory. An autopsy report is a detailed description of the postmortem examina-
tion of the various organs and tissues of the body [60, 66, 67].
Functional requirements of an APLIS system are to: (1) provide a means for com-
municating a requisition for services to the pathology department; (2) enter the
pathologist’s report; (3) store the data in a way to enable its use for clinical,
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 595
administrative, and research purposes; (4) generate pathology reports that provide
information of value to the care of the patient; and (5) permit retrieval of pathology
data that are also useful for medical research and education. As for any system
within or interfacing with an electronic health record (EHR), an APLIS system
requires a method for placing orders for AP services in the pathology department,
and traditionally these orders have been manually transcribed from paper requisi-
tions that accompany the specimen or slide(s) into the APLIS. This is still in com-
mon practice today, although more and more systems are enabled to accept electronic
orders from an EHR. Whether on paper or electronic, orders for AP services must
contain appropriate patient identification and clinical information as well as a
description of where each of the specimens obtained from an individual patient was
derived.
Technologic requirements of an APLIS system include the ability to process the
pathologist’s reports that are largely in free form, natural language, narrative text,
just as are many other physicians’ notes found in patients’ medical records.
Traditionally, pathologists dictated their reports which were transcribed by a medi-
cal transcriptionist or secretary, who then filed the signed paper reports in the
patient’s paper chart. From the viewpoint of quality control and editing, the most
desirable approach to narrative text acquisition is the entry of the dictated report
directly into the computer system by use of an interactive terminal, but reliable
speech recognition would not become available until the 1990s [60]. It soon became
evident that the large amount of free text used in pathologists’ reports created a
major problem for computer-based information systems since narrative text required
more storage space than did numbers, was sometimes difficult to interpret due to
variability in meaning behind the same words, and was usually difficult to search
and retrieve for information. To overcome the first problem, systems were devel-
oped which converted medical concepts into shorter computer language codes. The
second problem required the development of standardized terminology for diagno-
ses and other concepts. The third problem required the development of special
query and retrieval languages.
and the format of the knowledge base should be described completely in functional
terms to make it independent of the software and hardware used. A concept is a
single one-to-one representation of the thing, idea, or condition that exists, while a
term is a word or phrase that represents that concept. A concept may have one to
multiple synonymous terms (e.g., myocardial infarction and heart attack are differ-
ent terms for the same concept). Although it is possible to search and retrieve
computer-stored text by matching desired words or sets of words, it is much simpler
to search and retrieve by numbers and letters and symbols. Thus, to facilitate storage
and retrieval of diagnostic terms but also to facilitate retrieval of reports which may
have synonymous terms for the same concept, the terms in a data dictionary are usu-
ally represented by the numerical code for its corresponding concept. The coding of
terms has the advantage of presenting data to the computer in a compact and consis-
tent format. The disadvantages of coding are that users have to be familiar with the
coding system, codes have a tendency to reduce and stereotype information, and
they require frequent revisions to avoid becoming obsolete [60]. To develop and use
standard concepts requires the development of a data dictionary, which is a lexicon
of standard, accepted, defined, and correctly spelled concepts and terms. Such a
data dictionary has to list all data items stored in the computer database, with their
definitions and their codes, and any associated relevant information required for
their storage and retrieval, and for their linkage to other data items and files. A data
dictionary for pathology was usually initiated by selecting commonly used terms
from a standard medical dictionary and from related medical literature. It then con-
tinually added new terms as they were entered from the APLIS database itself. The
design of the data dictionary had to provide expandability for incorporating new
data items introduced by new procedures. As these lexicons became the basis for
automated natural language processing (NLP), they included syntactical informa-
tion (information defining attributes about the term such as to whether the word was
a noun, verb, or other) as well as semantical information (the meaning of the word
in the language of medicine) [46].
Medical terminology is the compilation of standard medical terms by their mean-
ing, and medical nomenclature provides a systemized way of generating new terms
for the terminology. Medical ontology is a compilation of concepts, each of which
may have more than one term, which are formally named and which additionally
have definitions regarding attributes of the concept such as type, properties and
relationships with other concepts such as by disease type.
A common method used for early medical information systems to simplify the
coding problem was to standardize medical textual data, and to simplify its entry,
storage, and retrieval by using special-purpose, structured, and pre-coded data entry
forms. However, this approach decreased the flexibility and richness of textual
entry. It was relatively simple to type words and sentences into the computer by
using the keyboard, and then to retrieve such text by matching letter-by-letter, word-
by-word, or sentence-by-sentence. One way of accomplishing this in the 1960s was
by using IBM’s Magnetic Tape/Selectric Typewriter (MT/ST) that interfaced an
office typewriter to a magnetic tape drive. By the late 1960s, this could be connected
directly to a digital computer. Robinson [58] used such a system to enter narrative
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 597
surgical pathology reports, and at the time of the transcription, the system permitted
the information to be acquired for computer processing, so the user was not depen-
dent on access to a time-sharing computer. His program matched each word against
a standard vocabulary, and thus identified new or misspelled words for human
editing.
The earliest work on classifying and codifying diseases by systematic assign-
ment of related diagnostic terms to classes or groups was done by the World Health
Organization (WHO). WHO took over from the French the classification system
that had been adopted in 1893 and was primarily based upon body site and etiology
of diseases [14]. The first International Classification of Diseases (ICD) published
under WHO sponsorship was in its sixth revision in 1948. In the 1950s, medical
librarians manually encoded ICD-6 codes for diagnoses. In the 1960s, ICD-7 codes
were generally key punched into cards for electronic data processing. The
International Classification of Diseases, Adapted (ICDA) used in the United States
for indexing hospital records, was based on ICD-8 that was published in 1967.
Beginning in 1968, ICDA began to serve as the basis for coding diagnostic data for
official morbidity and mortality statistics in the United States. In addition, the pay-
ors of insurance claims began to require ICDA codes for payment, which encour-
aged hospitals to enter into their computers the hospital discharge diagnoses and the
appropriate ICDA codes. The ninth revision of ICD appeared in 1977. Since ICD
was originally designed as an international system for reporting causes of death,
ICD-9 was revised to better classify diseases. In 1978, its Clinical Modification
(ICD-9-CM) included more than 10,000 terms and permitted six-digit codes plus
modifiers. ICD-9-CM also included in its Volume III a listing of procedures. From
the 1980s through the 2010s (30 years), the ICD-9-CM was the nationwide classifi-
cation system used by medical record librarians and pathologists for the coding of
diagnoses in the United States. As of late 2014, ICD-10 was expected to be required
for use in the United States in October 2015.
The Standard Nomenclature of Diseases and Operations (SNDO) was developed
by the New York Academy of Medicine. It was published by the American Medical
Association in 1932 and was used in most hospitals in the United States for three
decades. SNDO listed medical conditions in two dimensions: the first was by ana-
tomic site or topographic category (as examples, body as a whole, skin, musculo-
skeletal, respiratory, cardiovascular); the second was by etiology or cause (for
example, due to prenatal influence, due to plant or parasite, due to intoxication, due
to trauma by physical agent). The two-dimensional SNDO was not sufficiently flex-
ible to satisfy clinical needs, so its fifth (and last) edition appeared in 1961.
A four dimensional nomenclature, intended primarily for pathologists, was
developed by a group led by Arthur H. Wells, within the College of American
Pathologists. It was called the Systemized Nomenclature of Pathologists (SNOP).
First published in 1965, SNOP coded medical terms into four major semantic cate-
gories: Topography (T) for the body site affected; Morphology (M) for the struc-
tural changes observed; Etiology (E) for the cause of the disease; and Function (F)
for the abnormal changes in physiology [71]. Thus a patient with lung cancer who
smoked cigarettes and had episodes of shortness of breath at night would be assigned
598 A.B. Carter et al.
the following string of SNOP terms: T2600 M8103 (bronchus, carcinoma); E6927
(tobacco-cigarettes); F7103 (paroxysmal nocturnal dyspnea) [55]. The use of SNOP
was readily adopted by pathologists in the 1960s, as it was well suited for coding for
computer entry when using punched cards. In 1969 Pratt, at the National Institutes
of Health (NIH), began to report on the automatic SNOP coding of autopsy diagno-
ses. He wrote that in the creation of a computer based natural language processing
system, it was necessary to provide for the morphological, syntactic and semantic
recognition of input messages. He used SNOP as his semantically organized dic-
tionary. As part of this work, the above categories were split into semantic subcat-
egories and morphemes (the smallest meaningful parts of words) to permit the
successful identification of word forms that were not found in the SNOP dictionary,
and for the recognition of medical English synonyms [56]. He developed parsing
algorithms for morphological, syntactic, and semantic analysis of autopsy diagno-
ses; and a series of computer programs which when given as input a body of medi-
cal text, produced as output a linguistic description and semantic interpretation of
the given text [57]. The result of the analysis was the translation of medical text into
the four fields (T, M, E, and F) as they were listed in the SNOP dictionary. In the
1970s, it was the basis for the development of computer programs to permit auto-
matic SNOP encoding of pathology terms [53, 55]. At the National Institutes of
Health, Pratt’s contribution to this field was lauded by Wells [71]. Pratt [54] soon
concluded that SNOP was not the ideal semantic lexicon for medical linguistics,
though it presented many desirable features that could be incorporated in any new
medical lexicon. Complete as well as multiple TMEF statements were considered to
be necessary for pathologist’s purposes [26]. The successful use of SNOP by
pathologists encouraged Cote, Gantner, and others to expand it to attempt to encom-
pass all medical specialties.
As a result of the expansion of SNOP, the Systemized Nomenclature of Medicine
(SNOMED) was first published in 1977 [68]. In addition to SNOP’s four attributes
of Topography (T), Morphology (M), Etiology (E), and Function (F), it contained
three more attributes: Disease (D), Procedure (P), and Occupation (O). Disease (D)
was used to encode classes of diseases, complex disease entities, and syndromes,
which made SNOMED as suitable for statistical reporting as the ICD. Procedure (P)
was used to describe diagnostic, therapeutic, preventive, or administrative proce-
dures, and Occupation (O) was used to encode the patient’s occupational and indus-
trial hazards [9, 10, 20]. Some reports comparing SNOMED and ICD advocated
SNOMED as superior for the purposes of medical care and research, since ICD was
designed primarily for statistical reporting and was often too general to identify
specific patient problems. In addition, SNOMED defined the logical connections
between the categories of data contained in the final coded statement. Furthermore,
SNOMED codes could be used to generate ICD codes, but not vice versa [27].
An important contribution to the standardization of medical terminology was
made by Burgess Gordon who headed a committee of the American Medical
Association to develop Current Medical Terminology (CMT) for the alphabetical
listing of terms with their definitions and simplified references [25]. The first edition
of CMT was published in 1962 with revisions in 1964 and 1965 [24]. In 1971, the
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 599
fourth edition was expanded into the Current Medical Information and Terminology
[22] to attempt to provide a “distillate” of the medical record by using four-digit
codes for such descriptors as symptoms, signs, laboratory test results, x-ray, and
pathology reports [21, 23]. Referred to as CMIT, it was available in machine-
readable form and was an excellent source of structured information for over 3,000
diseases. It was used by Lindberg et al. [44] as a computer aid to diagnosis in his
CONSIDER program for searching CMIT by combinations of attributes and then
listing the diseases in which these attributes occurred.
The importance of identifying medical procedures and services, in addition to
diagnoses, for the payment of medical claims led to the development of special
systems for terminology and coding of medical services and procedures. In 1967 the
first edition of Current Procedural Terminology (CPT) was published with a four-
digit coding system, but it was soon revised and expanded to five-digit codes to
facilitate the frequent addition of new procedures [13]. Subsequently, the American
Medical Association provided frequent revisions of CPT, such that in the 1970s and
1980s CPT-4 was the most widely accepted system of standardized descriptive
terms and codes for reporting physician-provided procedures and services under
government and private health-insurance programs. In 1989, the new Health Care
Financing Organization began to require every physician’s request for payment for
services to patients in the office to include ICD-9-CM codes and also required
reporting procedures and services using CPT-4 codes [61].
Although CMIT had defined its diagnostic terms, a common deficiency of sys-
tems such as SNOP, SNOMED, and ICD was that they lacked a common dictionary
that defined their terms and concepts precisely. As a result, the same condition could
be defined differently and assigned different codes by different coders [32]. An
important benefit from using data dictionaries was their ability to encourage the
standardization of medical terms through their definitions, and thereby facilitate the
interchange of medical information among different health professionals, and also
among different medical databases. Since the data stored in patients’ records came
from multiple databases, such as from the pathology system, the laboratory system,
the pharmacy system, and others, standards for exchanging such data had to be
established before they could be readily transferred into a computer-based, inte-
grated patient record.
The National Library of Medicine (NLM) met the problem of variances in medi-
cal terminology by instituting its own standard controlled vocabulary called Medical
Subject Headings (MeSH) which was used by librarians for indexing NLM’s stored
literature citations. However, MeSH was not designed to serve as a vocabulary for
patient records. In the 1980s, the NLM began to develop a Unified Medical Language
System (UMLS) to compensate for differences in terminology among different sys-
tems, such as for MeSH, CMIT, SNOP, SNOMED, and ICD [33]. UMLS was not
planned to form a single vocabulary, but rather to unify terms from a variety of stan-
dardized vocabularies and codes for the purpose of improving bibliographic retrieval,
and to provide standardized data terms for computer-based records. It was still evi-
dent at the end of the 1980s, that an ideal coding system was not yet available which
would satisfy all the requirements of an ideal system as defined by [5].
600 A.B. Carter et al.
Automated text processing soon offered the formalized structuring and encoding
of standardized medical terms in an automated fashion that would provide a great
savings of storage space and would improve the effectiveness of the search and
retrieval process for text. Since the manual coding of text was tedious, time-
consuming, and led to inconsistent coding, efforts were soon directed to develop
software for the automated encoding by computer. As early as 1962, Lamson at the
University of California, Los Angeles, began to enter uncoded surgical pathology
diagnoses in full English text into a magnetic file system. The information was key-
punched in English in the exact form supplied by the pathologists. The patient
record was recalled by patient name or identification number, and a full prose print-
out of the diagnosis was provided. To avoid manual coding, Lamson [41, 42] col-
lected 3 years of patient data into a thesaurus that related all English words that had
identifiable relationships. His computer program then matched significant words
present in a query and retrieved patients’ records containing these words. In 1965,
his patients’ files contained about 16,000 words, and his thesaurus contained 5,700
English words. However, he recognized that more programming would be neces-
sary to provide syntactic tests that could clear up problems of a semantic and syn-
tactic nature. Working with Jacobs and Dimsdale from IBM, Lamson went on to
develop a natural language retrieval system that contained a data dictionary for
pathology records which contained unique numeric codes for each English word,
including surgical pathology and bone-marrow examinations, autopsy reports,
nuclear medicine, and neuroradiology findings [50]. The extensive thesaurus con-
tained hierarchical and synonymous relationships of terms; as for example, to iden-
tify that dyspnea and shortness-of-breath were acceptable synonyms [34, 35, 37].
Patient records were maintained in master text files, and new data were merged, in
order of patient medical record numbers, into the master text files. A set of search
programs produced a document that was a computer printout of the full English text
of the initial record in an unaltered, unedited form [41].
In 1963 Korein [38, 39] at New York University Medical Center designed a
method for storing a physician’s dictated narrative text in a variable-length and
variable-field format. The narrative data were then subjected to a program that gen-
erated first an identifier and then the location for each paragraph in the record. The
next step reformatted the data on tape such that the content of the document was
made into a list of words with a set of desired synonyms. On interrogation, the pro-
gram would search for the desired words or synonyms and would retrieve the
selected text. This technique, which identified key words, also later served as one
approach to automatic retrieval of literature documents. In 1964 Tatch [70], in the
Surgeon General’s Office of the U. S. Army, reported automatically encoding diag-
noses by punching paper tape as a by-product of the normal typing process for the
clinical record summary sheet (not the pathology report; a study on this came later).
The computer program operated upon actual words within selected blocks, one at a
time, and then produced a unique numeral for each letter resulting in a composite
set of unique numerals that represented each word. The combined numeral was
matched to an identification table, and an identity code was appended to the numeral.
Based on a syntax code, the numerals were added one-at-a-time, until a diagnostic
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 601
classification was determined. The diagnostic code related to the final sum was
retrieved from memory and added to the clinical record summary.
In 1966, Buck [7], with Lindberg’s group at the University of Missouri at
Columbia, developed a program for retrieving patients’ records from computer files
that included the patients’ coded discharge medical diagnoses, surgical operations,
surgical pathology and cytology interpretations, autopsy diagnoses, and the inter-
pretations of electrocardiograms and roentgenograms. The diagnosis files were
stored on magnetic tape in a fixed-field format and processed by an IBM 1410 com-
puter system. Queries were entered from punched cards with the code numbers of
the diagnoses to be retrieved. The computer searched the magnetic tape records for
the diagnoses, which in 1966 contained more than 500,000 records, and then identi-
fied the medical record numbers of the patients who had the diagnoses of interest.
Similar approaches to automated encoding of diagnoses were applied using CPT
and ICD-9-CM. The diagnosis, or the procedure, was entered into the system as an
English word or phrase. The search for and retrieval of coded items was simple, but
the retrieval of uncoded textual items was more difficult. The approaches to auto-
matic encoding of entered text led to the retrieval of stored text by the matching of
words and phrases, such as used for a key-word-in-context (KWIC) search [36] or
by pattern matching of word strings [73]. Early systems attempted to match the term
with one in their data dictionary or lexicon, and if no direct match was found, the
system then searched for a synonym that could be accepted by the user.
In 1970 Myers and associates [48] at the University of Pennsylvania, reported a
system in which a pathology report was translated into a series of keyword or data
elements encoded using arbitrarily assigned numbers. Similar to the technique
reported by Tatch in 1964, the typist entered the routine pathology report using a
typewriter controlled by a paper tape program, the data elements were automatically
coded, and a punched paper tape could be produced as a by-product of typing. The
report was stored on either magnetic tape or a disk storage system.
Enlander [12] developed a computer program that searched for certain pre-
established key words in each diagnostic sentence according to a hierarchical
structure that was based on the four-digit SNOP code. When this mode was applied
to 500 diagnostic sentences, the automated keyword search encoded 75 % of the
sentences. In a pilot clinical information system at Kaiser Permanente in Oakland,
California, Enlander used a visual display terminal equipped with a light pen to
select and enter a diagnosis, and the SNOP-coded diagnosis was then automatically
displayed.
By the 1980s, more advanced systems added knowledge to guide the user by
displaying queries and responses through decision trees that led to the best match-
ing concept code. The search for words in a dictionary made their retrieval easy.
However, it was more difficult to search for and retrieve exact meaningful expres-
sions from such text. That is, although it was easy to enter and store words, it was
not always easy for the retriever to figure out what they had meant to the person who
had entered the words. Blois described the problem by saying that computers were
built to process the symbols fed to them, in a manner prescribed by their programs,
where the meaning of the symbols was known only to the programmers but rarely
602 A.B. Carter et al.
to the program and never to the computer. Consequently one could transfer every-
thing except the meaning. Blois further pointed out that the available symbols
(codes) rarely matched the clinical data precisely, so that the user frequently had to
“force” the data into categories that might not be appropriate [6]. Ideally, what was
needed was a natural language processing system that could interact with the com-
puter in ordinary language, and through these decades this was an important objec-
tive. Certainly the fluidity of spoken and written language was markedly different
from formal, structured computer languages. Computers readily surpassed humans
at processing strings of numbers or letters; however, people found it more effective
to communicate using strings of words. The approach of matching words and
phrases was useful for processing a highly structured text. However, this method
ignored the syntax of sentences and missed the importance of the positions of words
in a sentence and the relations between words including negation. Obermeier [49]
at Battelle Laboratories, Columbus, Ohio, defined natural language processing as
the ability of a computer to process the same language that humans use in normal
discourse. He believed that the central problem for natural language processing was
how to transform a potentially ambiguous phrase into an unambiguous form that
could be used internally by the computer system. This transformation, called pars-
ing, was the process of combining words or symbols into groups that could be
replaced by a more general symbol. Different types of parsers evolved which were
based on pattern-matching, syntax or grammar, semantics or meaning, knowledge
bases, and combinations of these approaches.
Hendrix [31], at SRI International, described the complex nature of natural lan-
guage research as requiring the study of sources of lexical knowledge (concerned
with individual words, the parts of speech to which they belong, and their mean-
ings), syntactic knowledge (concerned with the grouping of words into meaningful
phrases), semantic knowledge (concerned with composing the literal meaning of
large syntactic units from the semantics of their subparts), discourse knowledge
(concerned with the way clues from the context being processed are used to inter-
pret a sentence), and domain knowledge (concerned with how medical information
constrains possible interpretations). Clearly natural-language processing had to
consider semantics since medical language was relatively unstandardized, it had
many ambiguities, ill-defined terms, and multiple meanings of the same word or
term (synonyms). Wells [71] offered an example of “…semantically equivalent
phrases …muscle atrophy, atrophy of muscle, atrophic muscle, muscular atrophy.”
In addition, natural language processing had to consider syntax, or the relation of
words to each other in a sentence. When searching for strings of words such as
mitral stenosis and aortic insufficiency, the importance of the ordering of the words
was evident since mitral insufficiency and aortic stenosis had a very different mean-
ing. The phrase “time flies for house flies” made sense only when one knows that
the word flies is first a verb and then a noun. Another common problem with com-
puter word searches by exact letter-by-letter matches was the handling of inconsis-
tent spelling and typographic errors.
In addition to automatic encoding of diagnoses, the retrieval of text required the
development of automated processing programs to facilitate the retrieval of stored
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 603
text. In 1968 Barnett, and associates at the Massachusetts General Hospital, began
to structure the narrative text, such as progress notes, by using an interactive, con-
versational technique with a predetermined branching structure of the data and a
fixed vocabulary. The user entered the information by selecting the desired items
from a list on a display screen [2, 3]. Later Barnett’s group reported the develop-
ment of a Medical Query Language (MQL) for the retrieval and analysis of data
from their COSTAR ambulatory patient records. An MQL query was made up of a
series of statements; each statement began with a keyword. MQL queries could be
indefinitely long, or could be broken down into a series of subqueries, each designed
to accomplish some portion of the total problem. A statement was scanned and
passed on to a parser that matched the scanned symbols to rules in the MQL gram-
mar; and then the program went on to execute the query [47].
Hammond and Stead at Duke University used a data dictionary to define the
codes for their CP system that was linked to their The Medical Record (TMR) sys-
tem [29]. Their dictionary permitted modification and updating of specific functions
and allowed for differences between various medical specialties and clinics. Major
sections of the dictionary were devoted to system specifications, problems, proce-
dures, providers, supplies, and therapies. In addition, there were demographic and
examination data and also professional fees, accounting, messages, and report con-
trols. An alphabetically arranged thesaurus permitted synonym definitions. Where
appropriate for free text input, all codes and their text equivalents were defined in
the dictionary. The user could enter the code directly or could type text and let the
program do an alphabetic search in the dictionary and convert the text string to the
appropriate code [30].
In the late 1970s, Sager and associates at New York University, initiated their
Linguistic String Project that converted the natural language of medical records into
a structured database [62, 64, 65, 69]. Whereas earlier attempts at automated encod-
ing systems dealt with phrases that were matched with terms in a dictionary, Sager
first performed a syntactic analysis of the input, then mapped the analyzed sen-
tences into a tabular arrangement of the syntactic segments, in which the segments
were labeled according to their medical content. In the resultant table (called an
information format) the rows corresponded to the successive statements in the docu-
ments and the columns to the different types of information in the statements [64].
Thus Sager’s automatic-language processor parsed each sentence and broke the sen-
tence into components such as subject-verb-object; and the narrative statements into
six statement types, such as general medical management, treatment, medication,
test and result, patient state, and patient behavior. The processor then transformed
the statements into a structured tabular format. This transformation of the record
was more suitable for their database-management system; it also simplified retrieval
of the records that were then transformed back for the users into a narrative form.
Sager et al. [63] reported that they had applied the methods of linguistic analysis to
a considerable body of clinical narrative that included pathology reports. They suc-
cessfully tested their approach for automatic encoding of narrative text in the Head
and Neck Cancer Database maintained at that time at the Roswell Park Memorial
Institute. In 1985 they reported that their medical-English lexicon, which gave for
604 A.B. Carter et al.
each word the English and medical classification, numbered about 8,000 words
[45]. By 1986 they reported that they had applied the methods of linguistic analysis
to a considerable body of clinical narrative: hospital discharge summaries, initial
histories, clinic visit reports, and radiology and clinical-pathology reports [63].
In the 1980s, Gabrieli, and associates at Buffalo, New York, developed an office
information system called Physicians’ Records and Knowledge Yielding Total
Information for Consulting Electronically (PRAKTICE) for processing natural lan-
guage and other elements in medical records [17, 19]. He developed his own
computer-compatible medical nomenclature by a numeric representation, where the
location of a term in a hierarchical tree served as the code. For example, the diagno-
sis of polycythemia was represented by 4-5-9-1-2, where 4 = clinical medicine, 4-5
= a diagnostic term, 4-5-9 = hematologic diagnostic term, 4-5-9-1 = red cell disor-
der, and 4-5-9-1-2 = polycythemia [18]. Gabrieli developed his own lexicon that
contained more than 100,000 terms and used his nomenclature for processing medi-
cal text. He described his method for processing free text as beginning with a parser
that recognized punctuation marks and spaces, breaking down each sentence into
individual words while retaining the whole sentence intact for reference. Each word
was numbered for its place in the sentence, and then matched against a Master Word
Lexicon. Each word was given a grammatical classification (noun, verb, etc.) and a
semantic characterization (grouped among “clue [medical] words”, “modifiers”, or
“others”). Next, the system looked for any words near to the medical term that
might be modifiers altering its meaning (usually adjectives). Thus, the term “abdom-
inal pain” might be preceded by a modifier, such as “crampy abdominal pain”. In
the third step, the remaining words were analyzed for their relationship to other
words in the sentence [16].
Thus, the early natural language, text-processing systems were primarily syntax
based, and identified words and phrases as subjects or predicates, nouns or verbs.
After completing the syntax analysis, semantic-based systems attempted to recog-
nize the meanings of words, and used dictionaries and rewrite rules to generate the
stored text. By the 1980s, some advanced text-processing systems used both
syntactical and semantical approaches, with knowledge bases that indicated how
expert parsers would interpret the meaning of words in particular contexts, such as
in the processing of the discharge summaries in the patients’ records. Yet even in the
1980s, most query languages for retrieving data from computer-based patient
records were still based on the search and retrieval of encoded terms. Demuth [11]
described the two approaches that had been used to develop automated coding sys-
tems: (1) A language-based system that matched English words against a dictionary,
and if a match or an accepted synonym was found, assigned a code, and (2) A knowl-
edge-based or expert system that included the universe of knowledge of the “experts”
for whom the particular system was intended. The expert system attempts to mimic
the reasoning and logic of the pathologist by using hierarchical (decision tree-based
systems) that attempted to automate human reasoning and logic using simple que-
ries and responses. The decision tree design mandated the nature and order of the
questions to be asked, and how they were to be answered. Demuth concluded that an
automated coding system must possess characteristics of both a language-based and
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 605
This early history of the APLIS with particular relevance to biomedical informatics
is truly a comprehensive look at Pathology Informatics in the AP laboratory. Much
has happened since the 1980s, where Dr. Collen’s excellent synopsis leaves off. In
the mid-1980s, Bruce Friedman at the University of Michigan, began a national
meeting Automating Information Management in the Clinical Laboratory (AIMCL)
which was the foundation for Pathology Informatics, a term first introduce in the
1990s, [15]. As a result of the pioneering work of Dr. Friedman, a team at the
University of Pittsburgh launched a companion meeting, Advancing Pathology
Informatics, Imaging and the Internet in 1996 (see http://www.pathologyinformat-
ics.com). Drs. Becich and Friedman then co-founded the Association for Pathology
Informatics (API) in 1999 (see http://www.pathologyinformatics.org). These two
meetings have subsequently merged to form the Pathology Informatics Summit.
These key events were the catalyst for the foundations of the discipline of Pathology
Informatics. Many improvements in the modern CPLIS as well as the APLIS have
606 A.B. Carter et al.
have been peer reviewed and published today. One of the most downloaded papers
from JPI is by Park et al. [52] which describes the History of Pathology Informatics
in the modern era and describes global as well as the US modern history. This
manuscript is a nice adjunct to this early history, and its reading is encouraged.
In addition, there has been significant innovation in the United States in Pathology
Informatics in the last three decades including the pathology informatics role in
bioinformatics [4], imaging informatics including whole slide imaging [51, 72],
molecular pathology informatics [28], telepathology [72], tissue banking informat-
ics [4] as well as many of the more modern innovations to the LIS that have occurred
since the pioneering work described by Dr. Collen For an in depth look at the cur-
rent innovations going on in Pathology Informatics see the Journal of Pathology
Informatics (http://www.jpathinformatics.org). An important example of this is
Pathology Informatics’ instrumental role and also the American Board of Pathology’s
joint sponsorship with the American Board of Preventative Medicine for the new
Clinical Informatics board certification under the American Board of Medical
Specialties [43]. The future of Pathology Informatics is extremely bright and we are
grateful to Dr. Collen for so accurately reflecting its early history and foundations in
biomedical informatics.
References
14. Feinstein AR. ICD, POR, and DRG: unsolved scientific problems in the nosology of clinical
medicine. Arch Intern Med. 1988;148:2269–74.
15. Friedman BA. Informatics as a separate section within a department of pathology. Am J Clin
Pathol. 1990;94(4 Suppl 1):S2–6.
16. Gabrieli ER. Computerizing text from office records. MD Comput. 1986;4:44–9.
17. Gabrieli ER. Automated processing of narrative medical text: a new tool for clinical drug stud-
ies. J Med Syst. 1989;13:95–102.
18. Gabrieli ER. A new electronic medical nomenclature. J Med Syst. 1989;13:355–73.
19. Gabrieli ER. The medicine-compatible computer: a challenge for medical informatics.
Methods Inf Med. 1984;9:233–50.
20. Gantner GE. SNOMED: the systematized nomenclature of medicine as an ideal standardized
language for computer applications in medical care. Proc SCAMC. 1980; 1224–6.
21. Gordon BL. Linguistics for medical records. In: Driggs MF, editor. Problem-directed and
medical information systems. New York: Intercontinental Medical Book Corp; 1973. p. 5–13.
22. Gordon BL, Barclay WR, Rogers HC. Current medical information and terminology. Chicago:
American Medical Association; 1971.
23. Gordon BL. Terminology and content of the medical record. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:436–44.
24. Gordon BL. Biomedical language and format for manual and computer applications. Methods
Inf Med. 1968;7(1):5–7.
25. Gordon BL. Standard medical terminology. JAMA. 1965;191:311–3.
26. Graepel PH, Henson DE, Pratt AW. Comments on the use of the systematized nomenclature of
pathology. Methods Inf Med. 1975;14:72–5.
27. Graepel PH. Manual and automatic indexing of the medical record: categorized nomenclature
(SNOP) versus classification (ICD). Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:77–86.
28. Gullapalli RR, Desai KV, Santana-Santos L, Kant JA, Becich MJ. Next generation sequencing
in clinical medicine: challenges and lessons for pathology and biomedical informatics. J Pathol
Inform. 2012;3:40. doi:10.4103/2153-3539.
29. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ. Planned networking for medical information systems.
Proc SCAMC. 1985; 727–31.
30. Hammond WE, Stead WW, Straube MJ, Jelovsek FR. Functional characteristics of a comput-
erized medical record. Methods Inf Med. 1980;19:157–62.
31. Hendrix GG, Sacerdoti ED. Natural language processing: the field in perspective. Byte.
1981;6:304–52.
32. Henkind SJ, Benis AM, Teichholz LE. Quantification as a means to increase the utility of
nomenclature-classification systems. Proc MEDINFO. 1986; 858–61.
33. Humphreys BL, Lindberg D, D. Building the unified medical language system. Proc SCAMC
1989: 475-80.
34. Jacobs H. A natural language information retrieval system. Proc 8th IBM Medical Symp,
Poughkeepsie. 1967; 47–56.
35. Jacobs H. A natural language information retrieval system. Methods Inf Med. 1968;7:8.
36. Kent A. Computers and biomedical information storage and retrieval. JAMA.
1966;196:927–32.
37. Korein J. The computerized medical record: the variable-field-length format system and its
applications. Proc IFIPS TCH Conf. 1970: 259–91.
38. Korein J, Goodgold AL, Randt CT. Computer processing of medical data by variable-field-
length format. JAMA. 1966;196:950–6.
39. Korein J, Tick LJ, Woodbury MA, Cady LD, Goodgold AL, Randt CT. Computer processing
of medical data by variable-field-length format. JAMA. 1963;186:132–8.
40. Krieg AF, Henry JB, Stratakos SM. Analysis of clinical pathology data by means of a user-
oriented on-line data system. In: Enslein K, editor. Data acquisition and processing in biology
and medicine, Proc Rochester Conf, vol. 5. Oxford: Pergamon Press; 1968. p. 163–72.
41. Lamson BG. Methods for computer storage and retrieval of medical free text from the medical
record. South Med Bull. 1969;57:33–8.
13 Anatomic Pathology Information Laboratory Information Systems and Natural… 609
42. Lamson BG, Glinsky BC, Hawthorne GS, et al. Storage and retrieval of uncoded tissue pathol-
ogy diagnoses in the original English free-text. Proc 7th IBM Med Symp. Poughkeepsie, NY;
1965: 411–26.
43. Lehmann CU, Shorte V, Gundlapalli AV. Clinical informatics sub-specialty board certification.
Pediatr Rev. 2013;34:525–30.
44. Lindberg DA, Rowland LR, Buch WF. CONSIDER: a computer program for medical instruc-
tion. Proc 9th IBM Med Symp. Yorktown Heights; 1968: 59–61.
45. Lyman M, Sager N, Freidman C, Chi E. Computer-structured narrative in ambulatory care: its
use in longitudinal review of clinical data. Proc SCAMC. 1985; 82–6.
46. McCray AT, Sponsler JL, Brylawski B, Browne AC. The role of lexical knowledge in biomedi-
cal text understanding. Proc SCAMC. 1987; 103–7.
47. Morgan MM, Beaman PD, Shusman DJ, Hupp JA, Zielstorff RD, Barnett GO. Medical Query
Language. Proc SCAMC. 1981; 322–5.
48. Myers J, Gelblat M, Enterline HT. Automatic encoding of pathology data. Computer-readable
surgical pathology data as a by-product of typed pathology reports. Arch Pathol. 1970;89:73.
49. Obermeier KK. Natural-language processing. Byte. 1987;12:225–32.
50. Okubo RS, Russell WS, Dimsdale B, Lamson BG. Natural language storage and retrieval of
medical diagnostic information: experience at the UCLA Hospital and Clinics over a 10-year
period. Comput Programs Biomed. 1975;5:105–30.
51. Pantanowitz L, Valenstein PN, Evans AJ, Kaplan KJ, Pfeifer JD, Wilbur DC, et al. Review of
the current state of whole slide imaging in pathology. J Pathol Inform. 2011;2:36.
doi:10.4103/2153-3539.
52. Park S, Parwani AV, Aller RD, Banach L, Becich MJ, Borkenfeld S, et al. The history of
pathology informatics: a global perspective. J Pathol Inform. 2013;4:7.
doi:10.4103/2153-3539.112689.
53. Pratt AW. Automatic processing of pathology data. Leaflet published by National Institutes of
Health, Bethesda, Maryland 1971.
54. Pratt AW. Representation of medical language data utilizing the systemized nomenclature of
pathology. In: Enlander D, editor. Computers in laboratory medicine. New York: Academic;
1975. p. 42–53.
55. Pratt AW. Medicine, computers, and linguistics. In: Brown J, Dickson JFB, editors. Biomedical
engineering. New York: Academic; 1973. p. 97–140.
56. Pratt AW, Pacak M. Automatic processing of medical English. Preprint No. all, Classification:IR
3.4. Reprinted by USHEW, NIH; 1969a.
57. Pratt AW, Pacak M. Identification and transformation of terminal morphemes in medical
English. Methods Inf Med. 1969;8:84–90.
58. Robinson RE. Acquisition and analysis of narrative medical record data. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:495–509.
59. Robinson RE. Surgical pathology information processing system. In: Coulson W, editor.
Surgical pathology. Philadelphia: JB Lippincott; 1978. p. 1–20.
60. Robinson RE. Pathology subsystem. In: Collen M, editor. Hospital computer systems.
New York: Wiley; 1974. p. 194–205.
61. Roper WL. From the health care financing administration. JAMA. 1989;261:1550.
62. Sager N, Tick L, Story G, Hirschman L. A codasyl-type schema for natural language medical
records. Proc SCAMC. 1980; 1027–33.
63. Sager N, Friedman C, Chi E, Macleod C, Chen S, Johnson S. The analysis and processing of
clinical narrative. Proc MEDINFO. 1986; 1101–5.
64. Sager N, Bross I, Story G, Bastedo P, Marsh E, Shedd D. Automatic encoding of clinical nar-
rative. Comput Biol Med. 1982;12:43–56.
65. Sager N, Hirschman L, Lyman M. Computerized language processing for multiple use of nar-
rative discharge summaries. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 330–43.
66. Smith J, Melton J. Automated retrieval of autopsy diagnoses by computer technique. Methods
Inf Med. 1963;2:85–90.
610 A.B. Carter et al.
67. Smith JC, Melton J. Manipulation of autopsy diagnoses by computer technique. JAMA.
1964;188:958–62.
68. SNOMED. Systematized nomenclature of medicine. Skokie: College of American Pathologists;
1977.
69. Storey G, Hirschman L. Data base design for natural language medical data. J Med Syst.
1982;6:77–88.
70. Tatch D. Automatic encoding of medical diagnoses. 6th IBM Medical Symposium,
Poughkeepsie; 1964; 1–7.
71. Wells AH. The conversion of SNOP to the computer languages of medicine. Pathologists.
1971;25:371–8.
72. Williams S, Henricks WH, Becich MJ, Toscano M, Carter AB. Telepathology for patient care:
what am I getting myself into? Adv Anat Pathol. 2010;17:130–49.
73. Yianilos PN, Harbort RA, Buss SR, Tuttle Jr EP. The application of a pattern matching algo-
rithm to searching medical record text. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 308–13.
Chapter 14
Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems
Sections of this chapter are reproduced from author Collen’s earlier work Computer Medical
Databases, Springer (2012).
Author was deceased at the time of publication.
M.F. Collen (deceased)
S.J. Nelson, M.D., FACP, FACMI (*)
Health Sciences Library and Informatics Center, University of New Mexico,
Albuquerque, AZ, USA
e-mail: [email protected]
computer display terminals, and again in the 1990s when CPOE became available
in HISs and provided online alerts for possible drug-drug interactions [11].
Since 1966 the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota has administered its Rochester
Epidemiology Program Project, containing the medical records of the population of
most of the 90,000 residents of Olmstead County, for more than 40 years. Kurland
and associates [109] at the Mayo Clinic, conducted a series of population-based,
case-control, and cohort follow-up studies of the long-term effects of drug expo-
sures. Their many published reports included studies of relationships between long-
range drug therapy and subsequent development of cancers, and between drug
therapy during pregnancy and subsequent congenital abnormalities of children.
Barnett and associates at the Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) reported in
1966 that their computer-based programs at the hospital included recording of med-
ication orders, automatic printing of up-to-date lists of prescribed drugs to be
administered to patients, charting of medications given, and preparation of summa-
ries of prior drug orders and drug administrations [5]. Additional PHARM system
functions allowed the user to examine the medication formulary, and permitted the
pharmacist to add new drug entities to the formulary file. When a drug was ordered
for a patient, the system’s drug ordering program automatically checked the patient’s
identification data and the spelling and dosage limits for the drug ordered; it listed
all active medication orders for the patient, and provided important drug informa-
tion that had been entered by the pharmacist into the hospital formulary. The online
interactive system could check an order against the data in the patient’s computer
record for any likely drug-drug interactions, or for drug-laboratory test-value inter-
actions, or for known allergic reactions to drugs. Barnett advocated that this infor-
mation be given immediately to the physician at the time of the initial creation of the
order, since after the responsible physician left the patient care unit a needed change
in the medication order would be more time consuming [6]. At each patient care
unit the MGH computer generated a list of medications to be administered every
hour. It also listed laboratory test results, with weekly summaries organized in a
format designed by the users to display tests in associated groups, such as serum
electrolytes, hematology tests, and others.
The earliest computer used in their medication cycle was a Digital Equipment
Corporation (DEC) PDP-1-d, with a UNIVAC drum memory, serving 64 input-
output teletypewriter terminals [68, 69]. In 1974, Barnett’s MUMPS-based PHARM
system was implemented on a patient care unit of the MGH, using cathode-ray
display entry terminals. Souder [203] reported the results of a 13-month evaluation
comparing two patient care units, with similar patients as to their ages, length of
hospital stay, and number of medications ordered. One used the new PHARM sys-
tem; the other did not. The completeness, legibility, and clarity of the computer-
based orders were judged significantly better, and provided better records than the
616 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
manual orders of the control care unit. However, due to the slow response time,
inadequate number of entry terminals, and other causes for the dissatisfaction of
physician users, this medication system was terminated after 1 year of operation.
Since 1969 the Harvard Community Health Plan had used the Computer Stored
Ambulatory Record (COSTAR) developed by Barnett [5]. Approximately 90 % of
its patients received prescription drugs from their pharmacy. Since 1988 the phar-
macy records were linked to the patients’ COSTAR records. The Health Plan’s
PHARM system maintained the patients’ medication records; from 1988 to 1992
their automated pharmacies dispensed 6.0 million prescriptions to 391,000 people.
Members over 65 years of age were prescribed a median of seven different drugs per
person. Physicians used two-part prescription forms; the top copy was given to the
patient or sent directly to the pharmacy; the other copy was attached to the patient’s
visit encounter form, coded by the medical record department, and entered in the
patient’s computer-based record [162].
In 1994 Harvard Community Health Plan merged with Pilgrim Health Care and
in 1998 joined with the Harvard Vanguard Medical Group. The largest inpatient
facility for their hospitalized patients was Brigham and Women’s Hospital in
Boston, with 720 beds, where an internally developed HIS, the Brigham Integrated
Computing System, that was built using Datatree MUMPS [199]. It had a patient
database that already contained medical records for more than one million people,
and a PHARM system that contained some pharmacy data since 1981 and some
laboratory data since 1986 [99]. By 1998, as a result of these mergers, ambulatory
patients with Harvard Community Health Plan could have their outpatient phar-
macy data linked with their inpatient pharmacy data from their records with the
Brigham and Women’s Hospital [33].
In 1967 Maronde and associates [132, 134] at the University of Southern
California School of Medicine and the Los Angeles County Hospital initiated a
computer-based, drug dispensing system to process more than 600,000 outpatient
prescriptions per year. The objectives for the system were to limit excess drug quan-
tities specified in individual prescriptions, undesirably frequent prescriptions for the
same drug, and inappropriate concurrent prescriptions for different drugs. Each pre-
scription was entered into the system by a pharmacist who typed in the prescription
using a computer terminal. The prescription labels were then printed by remote
printers in the local pharmacies, with information as to medication refills, a sum-
mary of the patient’s current medication history, and if there was any conflict or
potential drug-drug interactions in medications prescribed by the various clinics.
They reported that of 52,733 consecutive prescriptions for the 78 drug products
most frequently prescribed to outpatients by 870 different physicians representing
more than 80 % of all outpatient prescriptions, 13 % were for excessive quantities
of drugs, with some outpatients receiving as many as 54 prescriptions during a 112-
day period; and there were numerous examples of concurrent prescriptions of two
different drugs that could result in serious drug-drug interactions. They concluded
that an adequate PHARM system with a CPOE/RR program could alert physicians
to risks of possible ADEs and needless drug expenditures.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 617
prescribe lower-cost generic drugs rather than brand-name drugs, thereby signifi-
cantly increasing the use of generic drugs.
In 1970 Spencer and associates at the Texas Institute for Rehabilitation and
Research (TIRRIS) in the Texas Medical Center initiated a medication scheduling
program and a pharmacy inventory program that generated the charges for each
drug and for all pharmacy charges within their HIS, which contained about 2,000
patient records.
In 1970 the Johns Hopkins University Hospital initiated a prototype PHARM
system in a single, 31-bed, acute medical ward. It used an IBM 1620 computer that
had been installed earlier to process physicians’ written orders, to produce work
lists for ward nurses, and to generate daily computer-printed, patient drug profiles
[185]. Physicians wrote medication orders for hospital patients on order sheets cou-
pled with carbon paper for copies that were then collected by pharmacy personnel
and brought to a pharmacy, where the orders were entered into the system using a
computer terminal, along with the identifying data for new patients as well as their
known allergies. The system was used to evaluate their unit-dose medication sys-
tem, and to monitor drug therapy for potential ADEs. They found that the system
increased the nursing time available for direct patient care activities, and decreased
errors in carrying out physicians’ orders.
A detailed analysis of the operation resulted in a new set of requirements for an
enhanced unit-dose system; and in May 1974 a new version of their PHARM sys-
tem went into operation, using IBM 360–370 computers, and 3,278 cathode ray
tube terminals with light-pen selectors for data input by a medical professional or a
clerk located at the nursing stations or in the pharmacy. The system edited orders,
rejected inappropriate drug doses or drug administration routes; and a pharmacist
then reviewed the orders. The system printed unit-dose envelopes that contained the
name and location of the patient, the time of the scheduled drug administration, the
drug description, and any special instructions; after the envelopes were filled and
checked, they were placed in a tray for delivery to the nursing station [197, 198].
In 1975 Simborg reported on version II of the hospital medication system, which
had been upgraded with display terminals using keyboard and light-pen selection
input [197]. Orders were entered by clerks and verified by pharmacists. This
computer-based, unit-dose system was compared to the noncomputer-based, tradi-
tional multidose system on a similar size (30-bed) adult medical nursing unit at
Johns Hopkins Hospital. In the traditional nursing unit, the error rate was 4.6 times
greater (105 errors out of 1,428 doses compared to 20 errors out of 1,234 doses),
and medication-related activities consumed more than twice as much registered
nurses’ time (39.9 % compared to 17.7 %). For 250 beds the total costs were 7 %
higher using the computer unit-dose system; for 450 beds the total costs were 14 %
lower using the computer system. The authors concluded that the computer-based,
unit-dose system was more efficient than was the traditional multidose system;
however, they made no statement about the added benefits to the unit-dose system
alone, without adding the computer system.
Johns [98] repeated a cost evaluation of the unit-dose, drug-distribution system
that was operational in 1978 at the Johns Hopkins Hospital, and found a similar
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 619
decrease in the medication error rate with the unit-dose system. He also reported
that the time spent by registered nurses on medication-related activities was reduced
from 40 to 18 %. Although this 22 % reduction in nursing effort provided a potential
cost savings, the reduction in nursing effort was not actually accompanied by a
reduction in nurse staffing. As a consequence of the lack of a benefits-realization
effort, the automated system cost $1.83 more per bed per day than the conventional
system. Johns’ conclusion was similar to that of many hospital administrators at that
time: the failure to realize the potential savings these systems could provide had led
to considerable skepticism about such claims in hospital management circles.
In 1979 the PHARM system at the Oncology Center, originally one of three sat-
ellites of the central unit-dose PHARM system for the Johns Hopkins Hospital,
became a standalone PHARM system; data from inpatient medication profiles and
from outpatient clinical notes were manually extracted and entered by clinical data
coordinators in the Oncology Center. However, because of the manual work involved
only a limited set of drugs were recorded and data accuracy was difficult to achieve.
In 1984 an independent, standalone, outpatient prescription system was pur-
chased, and the PHARM system was fully integrated with the Oncology Center’s
clinical information system. It provided computerization of medication records,
prescription label generation, formulary updates, billing, and statistical data. In
addition, clinical interfacing with the PHARM system permitted review of the
appropriateness of the drug therapy based on clinical diagnoses that the pharmacist
could independently access from any computer terminal in the clinic or pharmacy
areas [79].
In 1971 the Yale-New Haven Hospital in Connecticut implemented a computer-
based formulary service that contained a listing of all dosage forms of each drug
used in the hospital, with cross-index listings of common synonyms and proprietary
names. Since only formulary drugs were maintained in the hospital, the result was
that approximately one-half of the drugs and dosage forms that previously were
used at the hospital were eliminated. A Formulary Catalog was published periodi-
cally listing newly added drugs. In 1972 a Connecticut Regional Drug Information
Service was established to assist participating hospitals in the development of viable
formulary systems, and two-thirds of the hospitals in the state participated in a
shared formulary service that contained all drugs and dosage forms on the formu-
lary of any participating hospital. One of the hospitals used a computer with punched
card input to prepare and print the distributed formulary [124].
In 1971 the El Camino Hospital in Mountain View, California, initiated installa-
tion of the Technicon Medical Information System (MIS) [61, 62, 186]. The hospi-
tal information system employed an IBM 370/155 time-shared computer located in
Technicon’s Mountain View offices. By 1973 the Technicon MIS had installed ter-
minals throughout the hospital’s clinical services [27]. The terminal’s display screen
was used to present lists of items, including the various orders for prescribed medi-
cations. A specific medication item was selected by pointing the terminal’s light-
pen selector at the desired word or phrase on the display, and then pressing a switch
on the barrel of the pen. The Technicon MIS was one of the first systems designed
to allow the physicians themselves to enter orders and review the results [16]. The
620 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
computer stored the orders and sent appropriate drug requisitions to the pharmacy.
Computer-produced printouts also included medication time-due lists [7]. The phar-
macy received all drug orders as they were entered into the system, printed dispens-
ing labels that included known drug allergies, and provided daily drug profiles of all
medications being taken by each patient.
In 1972 Platiau and associates at the Rhode Island Hospital in Providence [161]
described their PHARM system that used punch cards for servicing more than 30
cost centers in the hospital pharmacy. Each cost center had a data file of all phar-
macy items it received, including its fiscal history, unit cost, unit of issue, dosage
form, and package size; an item file containing a full English description of each
drug; and a master work sheet that contained a list of all items distributed to the
patient care area. The list was generated by selecting the appropriate pre-punched
card that indicated the drug description and drug code, the patient’s identification,
the date, the cost center, and the sequence number of the request [161]. Periodic
reports were produced that included the activity of each item distributed to each
patient care area, compiled by drug-category for each item (unit cost, unit of issue,
dosage form), and the totals for all care areas combined. The final report generated
was the inventory-release form showing the total dollar value charged to each cost
center; a punched card with this information was produced for input to the hospital’s
general ledger system. This system resulted in a 50 % reduction in the accounting
department’s workload for processing pharmacy transactions [161].
In 1972 the VA began developing in its Southern California facilities a PHARM
system for processing information on patients, prescriptions, and management
information, called APPLES (Automated Prescription Processing, Labeling and
Editing System). In 1974 the VA expanded the APPLES PHARM system to process
more prescriptions per day by using visual-display terminals and printers installed
in eight pharmacies and connected by a network to a computer center located 125
miles away [88]. By the early 1990s, the VA had implemented its Decentralized
Hospital Computer Program (DHCP) in each of its 170 medical centers, which
included a PHARM system in addition to LAB and RAD systems [99]. Graber and
associates [70] at the VA Hospital and Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee,
extracted prescription and clinical laboratory data from the VA-DHCP patient data-
base, and established a separate drug use database to monitor patient laboratory data
during drug therapy in addition to drug utilization.
In 1972 the National Institutes of Health (NIH) implemented the PROPHET
System, a time-shared system using a DEC PDP-10 computer, accessible remotely
by graphics-display terminals communicating over dedicated voice-grade telephone
lines, connected to 13 academic centers in the United States. The system supported
research promoting the emergence of a predictive science regarding drugs and drug-
related phenomena. NIH offered biomedical scientists throughout the nation an
opportunity to evaluate computer-based information-handling methods in searching
for chemical-biological relationships [168]. Rubin [174], at Bolt, Beranek and
Newman, described the PROPHET system as a specialized computer resource
developed by NIH to aid scientists who studied the mechanisms of drug actions and
other chemical/biological interrelationships. The system could be used to analyze
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 621
data using its graphing and statistics commands, and by manipulating models of
molecular structures. A users group of pharmacology-related scientists selected sta-
tistical tools and developed algorithms that best fitted their needs.
In 1972 McDonald and associates at the Regenstrief Institute for Health Care and
the Indiana University School of Medicine began to develop the Regenstrief Medical
Record System (RMRS) for the care of ambulatory patients. In 1976 they initiated
a PHARM system when a group of their patient care clinics was moved from the
Wishard Memorial Hospital into a new building; prescription information was cap-
tured from both the hospital and the outpatient pharmacy systems. Their new phar-
macy was staffed by seven pharmacists and processed up to 1,200 prescriptions a
day. A drug distribution system was implemented that used automated aids for the
prescription filling and dispensing processes [139].
The Regenstrief PHARM system was initially serviced by a minicomputer
located in the Regenstrief Health Center Building. It employed a set of table-driven
computer programs written in the BASIC-PLUS language; the database managed
the tables that contained the formulary and prescription information, and the
patients’ medication profiles. The RMRS database files also included their phar-
macy system. The patients’ current prescriptions were listed at the bottom of an
encounter form in a medication profile. The physician refilled or discontinued these
drugs by writing “R” or “D/C” next to them, and wrote new prescriptions under-
neath this list. The patients took a carbon copy of this section of the encounter form
to the pharmacy as their prescriptions. Data, recorded by physicians on the encoun-
ter forms, were entered into the computer by clerks. An ambulatory patient’s pre-
scription was entered using a computer terminal; and the patient’s identification, the
medication’s strength and dosage were checked, the patient’s medication record
was reviewed for possible drug-drug interactions, and the prescription labels were
printed. If the patient had a computer-based medical record, then the prescriptions
were also printed on the paper encounter forms. Their PHARM system also pro-
vided all of the required pharmacy inventory, management, and accounting func-
tions [31]. After implementing the PHARM system in the outpatient pharmacy of
the Regenstrief Health Center, that processed up to 1,500 prescriptions each day and
where physicians entered their prescriptions directly into microcomputer work sta-
tions, it was found that pharmacists spent 12.9 % more time correcting prescription
problems, spent 34 % less time filling prescriptions, 46 % more time in problem-
solving activities involving prescriptions, and 3.4 % less time providing advice [135].
It concluded that computer-based prescribing resulted in major changes in the type
of work done by hospital-based outpatient pharmacists.
McDonald [141] reported that the RMRS still used paper reports rather than
visual displays as its primary mechanism for transmitting information to the physi-
cian; this mode of output was preferred since it was cheap, portable, easier to
browse, and paper reports could be annotated with paper and pencil. However,
Murray [150] described the prior writing of paper prescriptions as a somewhat
painful prescribing medium for pharmacists, patients, and especially for physicians
who needed to recall which medication and dosage for more than 20,000 products,
and then write each legible prescription. McDonald [136] also instituted
622 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
patient; and displayed, when requested, an inpatient’s laboratory test results, medi-
cation data, and dietary orders. In addition, the system provided management func-
tions that included stock inventories, any required reports for controlled substances
(narcotic drugs); it maintained a drug formulary, and supported an appropriate
level of system security and patient data confidentiality [14, 154, 211]. A cost-
benefit analysis of implementing and operating a TRIMIS PHARM system as com-
pared to the traditional manual system operating in a generic Military Treatment
Facility, including personnel, supplies, inventory, automated PHARM system ser-
vices and maintenance, concluded that the automated PHARM system was the
more effective method [130].
In 1974 the Appalachian Regional Hospitals health care system, that included
ten community hospitals and several primary care centers, established at its central
site in Lexington, Kentucky, its Computerized Pharmaceutical Services Support
System (CPSSS) that was written in house in COBOL language. It used a Univac
9480 central processing unit with associated disc and tape drives; and with privately
leased phone lines, it provided online services to its various pharmacies. Specially
trained, non-pharmacist, computer terminal operators entered all required prescrip-
tions and patient related data; prescription labels were automatically printed, with
dosage instructions; and a pharmacist reviewed the patient’s profile for potential
ADEs. The system maintained its various needed files in its computer database. By
the end of 1975, they dispensed about 1,300 prescriptions per day, and the database
maintained records on approximately 40,000 ambulatory patients [220].
In 1976 Lassek and associates [110] at the Johns Hopkins University reported
the establishment of the Public Health Service Ambulatory Care Data System
designed for the use in their national system of 8 hospitals and 26 outpatient clinics.
In addition to coded clinical data, dispensed drugs were coded by pharmacists using
a three-digit number derived from the coding system used in the American
Pharmaceutical Association Directory. The early use of the system reported studies
of medication use by diagnoses and by physicians.
Since 1977 Group Health Cooperative of Puget Sound, a health maintenance
organization, maintained a computer-based record for every prescription drug and
over-the-counter medicine dispensed by its outpatient pharmacies, and since 1989
for its dispensed inpatient prescription drugs. In 1986 it added its patients’ labora-
tory and radiology data to its database. A computer-based record was created for
every medication at the time the prescription was filled; and the record contained
selected information about the patient, the prescriber, and the prescription. The
pharmacy database was frequently used for postmarketing drug surveillance and for
pharmacoepidemiology studies [178].
Since 1977 the Beth Israel Hospital in Boston, with 452 beds, had maintained a
patients’ computer-stored database using a network of Data General computers, and
had a PHARM system since 1979 with six cathode ray tube terminals and two print-
ers in the pharmacy. Pharmacists entered information in response to a series of dis-
played prompts indicating the medication, dosage, disposing form, time and method
of administration, and other needed data. It provided 24-h inpatient services that
included unit-dose medications, and mechanisms for dispensing intravenous
624 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
Siegel reported a study of the Drug Exception Reporting System (DERS), a com-
mercial drug prescription monitoring system used in conjunction with their
computerized drug ordering PHARM system, in 40 New York State mental health
facilities. Every time an order involving a drug was given or discontinued, a pre-
scription was completed and served as the data entry instrument to their PHARM
system. DERS reviewed every drug order against a set of guidelines for prescribing;
and it flagged and produced a listing of all drug orders for which there was an
exception to an established guideline. In a study period of the prescribing habits of
clinicians in six psychiatric centers, for periods from 6 to 18 months, they reported
that their system significantly reduced the number of drug orders written in excep-
tion to the guidelines; and that physicians’ acceptance of the system was high.
Siegel [195, 196] also reported a later study conducted in 11 psychiatric facilities of
the drug ordering practices of 73 clinicians with similar demographics; and they
compared 31 clinicians who used only the drug ordering system with 42 clinicians
who used both the drug ordering system and the DERS monitoring system. They
concluded that the added monitoring system improved prescribing practices of phy-
sicians and increased their knowledge of pharmacotherapy. Although 75 % of phy-
sicians felt the guidelines should be monitored, only 12 % felt the challenge to
physicians’ autonomy to be beneficial; and over half reported that when they
received exception reports that their most common response was to justify an excep-
tion. It was concluded that attention to some human factors’ components might help
to alleviate some negativism among physicians.
Anderson and associates [3] at the University of Nebraska College of Pharmacy
in Omaha, described using an Apple II+ microcomputer to manage their records of
controlled substances and also to manage financial and personnel information for
their University Hospital pharmacy department.
In a series of articles published in 1984 that reported on the use of microcomput-
ers for specialized pharmacy applications, Turner [213] described how a microcom-
puter in the Department of Defense TRIMIS PHARM subsystem was used for
information processing of intravenous solutions that required multiple program-
ming modules for the various involved functions; such as making appropriate calcu-
lations during the formulation and preparation of intravenous solutions, and for
performing pharmacokinetic calculations for tailoring doses of the medications that
varied with the patient’s age, gender, weight and height; combined with the charac-
teristics of the drug such as its half-life, elimination rate, its initial dose, and its
maintenance doses to be given at specified time intervals.
Honigman and associates [84] at the Denver General Hospital used the commer-
cially available MICROMEDEX Clinical Information System, which included the
DRUGDEX system that was developed at the University of Colorado Medical
Center. It provided information concerning drug therapy, dosage, usage, contraindi-
cations, drug interactions, and adverse effects.
Fireworker and associates [53] at the hospital pharmacy in the 350-bed hospital
of St. John’s University in Jamaica, New York, reported a modular installation of
626 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
their PHARM system using a microcomputer with a floppy disk drive for each of
four modules (controlled substances, investigational drugs, intravenous medica-
tions, and inventory control), all connected to a common, hard disk storage device.
The multi-computer system was developed to provide a higher level of reliability,
and to separate the PHARM subsystem from the rest of the hospital information
system.
In 1985 a published review of commercially available pharmacy computer sys-
tems listed 29 vendors, the great majority of which provided either standalone or
integrated systems with drug-drug interaction programs; six of these were listed as
having more than 100 installations [125]. A published review by Raymond [169]
listed a total of 52 commercial computer-based PHARM systems; a few reported
having more than 1,000 systems installed in 1986, and the majority provided drug
interaction functions.
Mackintosh [128] described the microcomputer-based PHARM system they
obtained for correctional facilities in Falls Church, Virginia; and that they had
obtained by mail order directly from the vendor, a commercial EX/2 RX System
from Signature Software Systems for less than $500. The system satisfied their
functional requirements. Outpatient medical care was provided 24-h a day to 8,000
residents. Since most of the residents were young and not taking many medications,
ADEs were not as prevalent as in the average community pharmacy; although clini-
cal factors, such as diabetes and allergies, would be noted in a patient’s profile.
Medications were dispensed repeatedly in small doses to the same patients. The
system did not need any billing and accounting functions at the correctional
facilities.
A review of the diffusion of the major vendors of PHARM systems during the
past few decades reveals interesting details. In the 1970s the major vendors were
Becton Dickenson, IBM, and Shared Medical Systems. By the 1990s the importance
of computerized drug information systems began to be widely recognized, yet phar-
macists still felt more strongly than physicians and nurses that such systems would
readily fit into their daily work routines [194]. Humphrey [87] reported that the St.
Jude Children’s Hospital in Memphis, Tennessee, replaced their system developed
in-house with Cerner’s PharmNet system interfaced to Cerner’s clinical systems,
linking to the laboratory system to monitor for drug-lab interferences in addition to
the usual other PHARM system functions. In a 1995 published review, 23 vendors
were listed as having more than 100 installations of their pharmacy systems; 5 of
these were listed as having more than 1,000 installations [44]. A later study of com-
munity pharmacists, university pharmacists, and pharmacy students found them to
be generally positive about the computer systems, the accuracy of online
information services, and their usefulness for pharmacists [193]. In the 1990s sev-
eral vendors provided decentralized, full-dose medication dispensing systems that
allowed barcode scanning of medications and of patients’ wrist bands, all integrated
with the patient’s drug profile via interfaces to a hospital’s centralized PHARM
system [129, 157].
In a study of the accuracy of medication records stored in electronic patient
records of an outpatient geriatric center of the University of Pittsburgh School of
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 627
Medicine, Wagner and Hogan [217] found that 83 % represented correctly the drug,
dose, and schedule of the current medication. The most frequent cause of errors was
the patient misrepresenting a change in medication. The failure to capture drugs
ordered by outside physicians accounted for 26 % of errors; transcription errors
were relatively uncommon.
By the year 2000 the prescribing functions of a PHARM system could be ful-
filled by using a small, pocket-size, portable handheld device, containing stored-
programs that could display on its screen the relevant drug formulary information
and potential drug-drug interactions; and that communicated wirelessly with a cen-
tral PHARM system that could automate the process of ordering prescribed drugs,
screen for drug-drug interactions, display the patient’s insurance coverage, display
drug charges, and print the prescription at a local pharmacy of the patient’s choice
[219].
Spontaneous Reporting System (SRS) [131]. Kerr [102] estimated that, in the 1 year
of 1988, about 55,000 ADEs were filed with the FDA. DuMouchel [47] at AT&T
Labs used the FDA’s Spontaneous Reporting System (SRS) database, and described
it to be a computerized database of adverse drug reactions that were primarily
reported by health professionals to search for ADEs that were unusually frequent.
By the 1990s the SRS contained more than one million reports, with the earliest
dating back to 1969, all collected after the marketing of the drugs. DuMouchel
emphasized that the full value of this warning system was not realized because of
the difficulty in interpreting its reported frequencies, since the FDA’s SRS did not
allow calculations of incidence rates or dose-response curves for the combination of
a given drug and its ADEs, as such a rate would require an appropriate denominator
with which to report the frequency of the reported drug-ADE combination. He used
a modified Bayesian approach with an internally derived-baseline frequency as the
denominator for calculating rates for drug-event combinations; and then compared
the reported frequency of a drug-event combination to the internally derived base-
line frequency to compute a relative-risk measure for the ADE. He pointed out that
this method of screening for ADEs in the SRS did nothing to minimize reporting
bias; he advocated appropriate epidemiological studies before making any final
decisions on any ADE rate.
In the 1960s Visconti [216] noted that about 5 % of hospital admissions were
reported to be due to ADEs. The 1962 Kefauver-Harris amendments to the Food,
Drug and Cosmetic Act began to require pharmaceutical firms to report to the FDA
all ADEs encountered in premarketing clinical trials of their drugs under investiga-
tions. In 1962 the World Health Organization (WHO) initiated an international pro-
gram for the promotion of the safety and efficacy of drugs that led to the
implementation of the WHO Pilot Research Project for International Drug
Monitoring. In 1968 the WHO International Drug Monitoring Project moved to
Alexandria, Virginia, where its International Drug Surveillance Center evaluated
voluntary reporting systems for ADEs, and developed a drug dictionary and a cross-
reference system between drug names. In 1971 this Center moved to WHO
Headquarters in Geneva [82]. In 1972 the WHO reported that the frequency of
adverse reactions in seven hospitals in the United States and Canada ranged from 10
to 18 % [173]. In 1992 the Prescription Drug User Fee Act (PDUFA) was passed
providing FDA with fees from manufacturers submitting a new drug application
(NDA), and financing additional reviewers to expedite the processing of new drugs.
Cuddihy [42] at Sandoz Pharmaceutical reported using a commercially available
program, General Retrieval System from Information Science, Inc. of New York
that provided the monitoring, search, and retrieval capabilities needed for the man-
agement and reporting of ADEs. Due to the increasing complexity of satisfying
FDA requirements, by 1977 Sandoz had installed an IBM 360/65 system, and was
using a more sophisticated data management system [221]. Windsor [224] of
Norwich Pharmaceutical Company, reported that in the 1 year of 1972, at least
1,968 articles in the medical literature reported ADEs.
Caranasos and associates [30] at the University of Florida reported that in a
series of 7,423 medical inpatients, 12.5 % had at least one ADE; and 16 patients
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 629
trast to post-marketing studies where patients could have multiple diseases, and
could take multiple prescription drugs in addition to over the counter medications.
The strength of randomized clinical trials is that randomization is more likely to
distribute the levels of unanticipated confounding variables more evenly in the con-
trol and intervention groups, making it less likely that confounding rather than
intervention is responsible for the effects found in the analysis of the data. An alter-
native to randomization is to perform a time-series trial in which the drug interven-
tion is turned on and off multiple times, and this has the advantage of controlling
for underlying secular trends [171].
Canfield and associates [29] at the University of Maryland described the com-
plex FDA drug application process that drug developers and manufacturers had to
follow to request approval of a drug product, and how the process required much
inter-organizational data flow. They developed new software for the FDA’s generic
drug application process that produced a more scalable and flexible architecture that
could be generalized to other contexts in inter-organizational, health care informa-
tion systems. They reported that 3 years of experience with the new system showed
an improvement over the prior system. Guess [76] at Merck Research Laboratories
wrote of the difficulties of studying drug safety prior to marketing when relevant
studies were often unpublished; and described some of the criteria used to relate
adverse experiences in premarketing clinical trials, that studied the relative risk of
users of the drug compared to non-users. The consistency of the reports from mul-
tiple clinical trials of the drug, and the time interval between the drug administration
and the occurrence of the ADE were found to be helpful.
The identification and quantification of potentially important risks have gener-
ally been conducted in postmarketing evaluation of intended beneficial effects of
drugs, and also of unintended and undesired effects of the drugs. Post-marketing
strategies for the detection, surveillance, and the online monitoring of known
ADEs, and for the discovery of previously unknown ADEs, are conducted indefi-
nitely at some level after the marketing of a new drug; and a variety of post-mar-
keting strategies have been reported. The identification and quantification of
potentially important risks of ADEs are conducted in the post-marketing evaluation
of the intended beneficial effects of drugs, and of the unintended and undesired
effects of the drugs. In addition, the effects of concomitantly administered drugs
and of patients’ associated diseases are generally not fully explored prior to mar-
keting, and are usually conducted as a part of post-marketing drug surveillance. As
a result ADEs are usually identified by post-marketing clinical observations of a
series of treated patients [207]. Lesko [115] also emphasized the differences
between premarketing drug studies that involve a few thousand individuals; and
post-marketing surveillance cohort studies that involve tens of thousands of
exposed individuals in order to be able to reliably detect rare ADEs. He asserted
that randomized controlled clinical trials were generally accepted as the best meth-
ods to study the safety and efficacy of drugs.
Strom [206, 207] described the requirements of large electronic bases for ADE
surveillance. The requirements were to contain records of a large enough population
to discover rare events for the drugs in question, to include inpatient and outpatient
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 631
care with each patient’s data linked with a unique identifier, to include all laboratory
tests, radiology and other procedures, and to have all prescribed and over-the-
counter medications. Strom periodically published comprehensive monographs on
pharmacoepidemiology and ADEs monitoring systems; and described a pharmaco-
epidemiologic approach as one that generally required studying the association
between drug experience and disease incidence; and determining the sensitivity (the
proportion correctly classified as having the ADE) and the specificity (the propor-
tion correctly classified as not having the ADE) of the approach. A simple measure
used was the proportional reporting ratio that was the ratio of the proportion of an
event reported for the drug being studied to the proportion of the same event for all
other drugs in the same database. Descriptive epidemiology studies included the
relative risk-ratio that compared the incidence and prevalence of an event following
the administration of a drug to its incidence and prevalence before the use of the
drug. Bayesian statistical methods compared the probability of an ADE occurring
after the administration of a drug, to its prior probability of occurring.
Drug surveillance was defined by Finney [52] as a process for the systematic
collection of information associated with the use of drugs, and the analysis of the
information with the objective of obtaining evidence for and about adverse events,
and had the capacity to detect both known and previously unsuspected drug-event
associations. Finney defined an event as an undesirable happening experienced by
the patient in the context of the patient’s disease, irrespective of whether the event
was thought to be wholly or partially caused by the drug, and that occurred in the
time-interval between the drug administration and the appearance of the event.
Finney proposed that the aim of monitoring was to study serious ADEs; although he
stated that opinions would differ about the lower limits of the class of events to be
regarded as serious. He advocated the use of computers for maintaining the records
of the monitored population, and that the population had to be large enough to pro-
vide statistically significant rates of detected ADEs. Finney described, as the sim-
plest statistical procedure to use, comparing totals of events in two successive
periods of equal length, and if there was a significant increase in the rate of the event
in the later period, than a closer study would be desirable. He advocated monitoring
the incidence rates of paired drug-event trends over adequate periods of time, and as
soon as any difference between the two rates exceeded a pre-defined critical value,
the computer would be programmed to provide an alert warning that further scru-
tiny was warranted. Finney cautioned that the method was not ideal; that it was not
likely to detect anything other than gross effects under the usual conditions of
patient care; and that detecting a difference in rates that exceeded the pre-defined
critical value was not necessarily proof of a harmful effect of a drug; but could be a
false-positive alert. He cautioned that some events reported would be due to overdose
or errors of drug administration, rather than an adverse reaction to the drug. He
pointed out that the ascertainment of patients’ records of events would be more
readily obtained in a hospital environment, and event-types would be more clearly
recognizable there.
In 1966 the Boston Collaborative Drug Surveillance Program (BCDSP) was ini-
tiated in the Lemuel Shattuck Hospital in Boston. Nurses were trained to collect the
632 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
information from medical records, and from patients and their physicians. For each
drug ordered by a physician, the nurse filled out a form with the name of the drug,
the dose, the frequency, route of administration, and the specific therapeutic indica-
tion. When the drug was stopped the date was recorded, and the reason for discon-
tinuing the drug, including any ADE. When the patient was discharged, then the
discharge diagnoses were recorded; and all the information was then transferred to
punch cards [200]. In 1966 Jick and associates at Tufts University School of
Medicine joined the BCDSP and implemented an ADE monitoring program for
hospitalized patients [95]. They reported that during their first 9 months, about 300
ADEs were reported for the 900 patients studied, of which 67 % were believed to be
due to the implicated drug, and 25 % of these were believed to be life threatening.
By 1970 the BCDSP involved eight hospitals and reported that in six of them 6,312
patients had 53,071 drug exposures; 4.8 % had ADEs, and in 3.6 % of patients the
drug was discontinued due to the ADE [96].
Jick [93, 97] summarized their experience with monitoring ADEs, and reported
that the BCDSP had collaborated for 10 years in a program of monitoring ADEs in
40 hospitals in seven countries on about 38,000 inpatients and more than 50,000
outpatients. Jick further summarized their experience by defining the relationship
between the risk of the baseline illness and the risk of a drug induced illness. With
the drug risk high and the baseline risk of illness low, the ADE would be detected
readily. If the drug added slightly to a high baseline risk then the effect would not be
detectable. When both risks were low, intermediate, or high, then systematic evalu-
ations such as by case-control studies would be needed. By 1982 their database had
collected data on over 40,000 admissions in general medical patients in 22 partici-
pating hospitals [218].
Shapiro [181] reported that in a series of 6,199 patients in the medical services
of six hospitals who were monitored for ADEs, deaths due to administered drugs in
the hospitals were recorded in 27 patients (0.44 %). Miller [147] described the mon-
itoring of ADEs from commonly used drugs in eight collaborating hospitals, and
reported that ADEs occurred in 6 % of all patients exposed to drugs; about 10 % of
these ADEs were classified as being of major severity, and 4 % of these ADEs had
either caused or strongly influenced hospital admission.
Leape and associates [113] in Boston reviewed more than 30,000 hospital records
and they identified 3.7 % with problems caused by medical treatment and reported
that drug complications were the most common type of adverse events, occurring in
19 % of patients. In another 6-month study of medication errors that were the cause
of 247 ADEs occurring in a second group of hospital patients, they found that most
medication errors occurred in physician orders (39 %) and in nurse administration
(38 %), with the remainder nearly equally divided between transcription and
pharmacy errors. They reported that, overall, nurses intercepted 86 % of medication
errors, and pharmacists 12 %. They concluded that system changes to improve dis-
semination and display of drug and patient information should make less likely any
errors in the use of drugs [112].
Samore [170] reported that by specifying an adverse event and collecting appro-
priate periodic data, one could determine the prevalence of the adverse event in a
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 633
entered, the computer updated the patient’s drug profile, printed a prescription label,
checked for potentially interacting drug combinations, and maintained a record of
all patients’ medications. Information on drugs dispensed directly at nursing sta-
tions was sent to the pharmacy for entry there by pharmacy personnel. Every new
prescription was checked for possible interactions with the components of each
medication. They reported that some hospital patients had received concurrently
more than 40 drugs.
They developed a large computer-stored database of drug-interaction informa-
tion that had been collected from the literature by clinical pharmacologists, and
entered the data interactively into their computer using a computer display terminal
located in a central hospital pharmacy. They maintained a Drug Index that described
the components of each drug and the drug class to which it belonged, and an
Interaction Table that contained for each possible pair of interaction classes whether
there was evidence that drugs in these two classes could interact with each other.
Their Drug Index and Interaction Table constituted the drug-interaction database of
the MEDIPHOR system. By 1973 their database contained more than 4,000 phar-
maceutical preparations; and programs were initiated for the MEDIPHOR system to
provide automatic online monitoring alerts to pharmacists, physicians, and nurses
when potentially interacting drug combinations were prescribed. Query programs
could be used to provide information on drug interactions that were currently on
record for a given drug or a class of drugs, or to produce a data profile for any drug-
drug interaction. The system generated drug-interaction reports for physicians and
nurses that assigned an alert class that ranked the urgency of the report as to its
immediacy and severity: from number (1), the most serious and life threatening, and
immediate action is recommended; to number (5), when the administration of both
drugs could produce organ toxicity [38–40].
In 1974 a version of the MEDIPHOR system was developed for outpatient ser-
vices, where patients could obtain their drugs from different outpatient pharmacies
[38]. Physicians at Stanford University Medical Center were surveyed to evaluate
their responses to the computerized, drug-interaction warning system; of 862
respondents, 25 % had received at least one warning report, and 44 % of physicians
who had received reports indicated that they had changed their behavior in response
to the information [149].
In 1987 the Division of Clinical Pharmacology at Stanford University had
expanded MEDIPHOR into a system called MINERVA (Monitoring and
INtERVention of therapeutic Actions) to apply computer-monitoring techniques to
other than drug interactions. In addition to prescription data and drug profiles from
the pharmacy, an intermediary system called MONITOR was initiated when labora-
tory test results began to be collected by a direct link to the clinical laboratory
computer system that was established in 1976. With the addition of current patient
census data obtained from the hospital’s computerized accounting system, the
MINERVA subsystem became operational and it also provided MINERVA TM
(therapy monitoring) rules as guidelines in order to prospectively monitor and detect
potential therapy problems, and to evaluate the impact of MINERVA on physician
processes and patient outcomes [39].
636 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
In 1975 Warner and associates at the University of Utah initiated their PHARM
system at the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City, as a subsystem of their HELP (Health
Evaluation through Logical Processing) information system. The PHARM system
was designed to monitor all drug orders as they were entered into the computer, and
to present a message to the user if potential problems were detected involving drug-
drug, drug-allergy, drug-lab, drug-disease, drug-diet, drug-dose, or drug-interval
interactions. The drug monitoring system was embedded in the medication ordering
software and was used by nurses and pharmacists as they entered drug orders into
the system [80]. They used a unit-dose dispensing system; drug orders were sent
from the nursing stations to the pharmacy, where a pharmacist used a computer
terminal to enter the orders into the patients’ computer records. Upon entering the
patient’s identification number, the patient’s name was displayed; the pharmacist
then entered the drug (or drug code) number and the dose, route and schedule of
administration. A computer-based medication profile was kept for each patient that
allowed the pharmacist to review, from a computer terminal, all drugs currently
given to the patient, all discontinued drug orders, and any drug allergies of the
patient. Medication profiles could also be provided for the entire nursing division.
In 1976 they had 149 drug-monitoring HELP sectors. They advised that there
was an important need to integrate laboratory data with drug data in order to moni-
tor drug therapy, since they found that 44.8 % of all warning messages were for
drug-laboratory alerts. Using their HELP decision-support program that contained
rules established by physicians and pharmacists, they monitored drug orders online
for ADEs, including adverse drug effects on laboratory tests. When a drug, or his-
tory of a drug allergy, was entered into the computer, it was checked automatically
for any “alert” conditions. ADEs alerts were reported for 5.0 % of patients; 77 % of
the warning messages resulted in changes of therapy. They reported using an algo-
rithm with ten weighted questions to produce a score that estimated the probability
of an ADE; characterized the severity of an ADE as mild, moderate, or severe; and
classified ADEs as type A (dose-dependent, predictable and preventable) that typi-
cally produced 70–80 % of all ADEs; or type B (idiosyncratic or allergic in nature,
or related to the drug’s pharmacological characteristics) and that usually were the
most serious and potentially life threatening of all ADEs. In the first 16 months a
total of 88,505 drug orders for 13,727 patients were monitored; 690 (0.8 %) drug
orders resulted in a warning on 5 % of all patients; and 532 (77.1 %) of the warning
messages resulted in a change in therapy [86].
Evans [49] reported following almost 80,000 LDS patients for a 44 month period
and concluded that alerts to physicians of ADEs detected early was associated with
a significant reduction of ADEs. Classen [36] described a larger group of 91,574
LDS hospital patients that were followed for a 3-year period, during which 2.43 per
100 admissions developed ADEs. The average time from admission to development
of an ADE was 3.7 days; and the average number of different drugs given to patients
before they experienced the ADE was 12.5. They concluded that ADEs were associ-
ated with a prolonged length of hospital stay, and about a twofold increased risk of
death.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 637
In the 1980s, they redefined the HELP programs for their PHARM system using
“frames” as the basic unit of information application in order to enhance the order
entry process, and to apply predictive knowledge frames. Their menu-based, order
entry program then used the complete clinical patient profile for the dynamic cre-
ation of patient-adjusted, order entry screens. Such information relied on their cen-
tralized patient database and a medical knowledge base; and used an inference
machine that combined these two information sources to create data entry screens
that fitted the needs of the patient. When a medication order was entered, the display
suggested drug dosage and administration schedule based on such relevant data as
the patient’s age, weight, and laboratory test results, that were obtained from the
computer-stored patient’s record; it also advised alternative medications that should
be considered [166].
In the 1990s medication orders were still written by physicians, transcribed by
unit clerks, and entered into the HELP system by clinical pharmacists and nurses.
Their PHARM system used logic criteria to review automatically every drug order
and, with other data from the HELP system determined if the new drug order might
result in a drug-drug, drug-laboratory, or other ADEs [80, 106]. They further
enhanced their HELP system with a computerized ADEs monitoring system [49].
Intermountain Health Care, Inc., the parent company of the LDS Hospital, then
installed their PHARM and HELP systems in ten of its larger hospitals in Utah [99].
Lindberg and associates [121, 122] at the University of Missouri School of
Medicine reported developing in the 1960s a computer database system that pro-
vided a quick reference source for drugs, their interactions, and for basic pharmaco-
logical principles that they had abstracted from AMA Drug Evaluations,
manufacturer’s drug inserts such as listed in the Physician’s Desk Reference (PDR),
and also from the medical literature. Their drug database was organized to be read-
ily accessed in accordance with alternate drug names, indications, contraindica-
tions, adverse reactions, drug-drug interactions, laboratory tests, route of
administration, drug dosage, pharmacologic and physiologic actions, and by other
items. Their IBM 360/50 database management system supported up to 20 simulta-
neous users, with terminals located conveniently for physicians to use. They could
access their database using CONSIDER, a general-purpose storage and retrieval
program for formatted text they had developed. At that date they estimated that
15 % of all patients entering a hospital at that time could expect to have an ADE that
would prolong their hospital stay; that one-seventh of all hospital days were devoted
to treating drug toxicity; and that during a typical hospital stay a patient might be
given as many as 20 drugs simultaneously, in which case the patient had a 40 %
chance of having an ADE. By 1977 their system was online, and was also accessible
by computer terminals located in a variety of sites in the state of Missouri [63, 64].
In the 1960s Collen and associates at the Kaiser Permanente Northern California
region initiated a computer-based surveillance system for detecting early warning
signals of known and of unknown potential ADEs in outpatients from a defined
membership of several hundred thousand persons [57, 58]. Prescriptions filled in the
outpatient pharmacies, and diagnoses recorded by physicians in the hospitals and
clinics, were stored in a central computer. The epidemiologic approach to monitor-
638 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
ing ADEs described by Finney [52] was applied. Supported by a contract from the
FDA between 1966 and 1973, they monitored ADEs; in 1973 these computer-stored
records contained more 1.3 million prescriptions for 3,446 drug products dispensed
to 149,000 patients. With data collected between 1969 and 1973, their initial efforts
at data analysis consisted primarily of a search for associations between drugs and
subsequent ADEs, by comparing incidence rates of a known or of a suspected ADE
in users of a drug, or of a group of drugs, to the rates of the ADE in the drug non-
users. Friedman [56, 59] also used case-control methods for identifying possible
associations of specific diseases and the prior use of specific drugs. By identifying
a group of patients with specific cancers and a control group without these cancers,
he compared prior exposure rates to specific drugs in both groups. Friedman advo-
cated monitoring both outpatients and inpatients for ADEs since patients moved in
and out of both settings as needed for their care.
In 1977 Friedman [56, 59] added a study of drug carcinogenesis using the
computer-based hospital and outpatient records to relate outpatient drug use in
1969–1973 to the subsequent incidence rates of cancer. Kodlin [104] and Ury [214],
also at Kaiser Permanente, described a mathematical, response-time model as a pos-
sible method of detecting ADEs. They compared the observed number of event-
occurrences before and after a drug was administered, and used base frequency
rates of events that were derived from medical records of patients who did not report
having these events.
Melmon [144] at the University of California in San Francisco wrote that
although prescribed drugs usually contributed to the physician’s ability to influence
favorably the course of many diseases, their use created a formidable health prob-
lem since, at that time, 3–5 % of all hospital admissions were primarily for ADEs;
18–30 % of all hospitalized patients had an ADE while in the hospital, and the dura-
tion of hospitalization for those patients was almost doubled as a result; about one-
seventh of all hospital days were devoted to the care of drug toxicity at an estimated
annual cost of $3 trillion.
Maronde [133] advised that an assessment of chemical mutagenesis should also
be included when available such as objective data of chromosomal breaks, dele-
tions, or additions, since they felt that the possible role of drugs in producing muta-
tions had not been given sufficient attention. They advised that monitoring for
chemical mutagenesis would entail chromosomal staining and study of chromo-
some morphology, and assessment of the incidence of discernible autosomal domi-
nant and sex-linked recessive mutations.
In 1972 a Pharmacy Automated Drug interaction Screening (PADIS) System
was initiated at the Holy Cross Hospital in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, with a database
to operate its unit-dose drug system, and integrate its existing computer system to
detect and prevent potential drug-drug interactions. It was designed to function as a
batch-process system that was run once daily to screen and print all patient-
medication profiles for drug interactions for that day. In a study conducted in 1974,
a manual review of 13,892 daily patient-medication profiles found a 6.5 % inci-
dence rate of possible drug interactions per patient-day, lower than the 9 % inci-
dence rate per patient-day detected by their computer-based system [74].
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 639
Reporting on the assessment of ADEs from commonly used drugs in eight col-
laborating hospitals, Miller [147] found that ADEs occurred in 6 % of all drug
exposures and in 28 % of all patients. About 10 % of the ADEs were classified as
being of major severity; and in about 4 % an ADE had either caused or strongly
influenced hospital admission. Although some ADEs might be unavoidable, Morrell
[149] estimated that 70–80 % were potentially preventable. In 1973 pharmacists at
Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, developed a database incorporating a
list of 10,000 drug-drug interactions and 7,000 individual drug-laboratory test inter-
ferences from ADEs reported in the literature.
Pharmacists dictated patients’ drugs and laboratory tests into a recording device;
at the end of a day the recording was re-played and pre-punched cards for each drug
and for each lab test were assembled with the patients’ identification cards. A phar-
macist reviewed the printout in conjunction with the patients’ charts, and reported
any significant potential interactions to the physicians. Daily reviews of patients’
charts resulted in entry of all drugs used and laboratory test data reported; and a list
was printed of potential drug-drug interactions and drug-lab interferences. COBOL
programs were written to update, search, list, and revise data [20].
Naranjo and associates [151] from the University of Toronto considered a major
problem in drug evaluation studies was the lack of a reliable method of assessing the
causal relation between drugs and ADEs. They developed an ADEs probability
scale and studied the degree of agreement between raters of ADEs using definitions
of definite, probable, possible, and doubtful ADEs. The between-raters agreement
for two physicians and four pharmacists who independently assessed 63 randomly
selected alleged ADEs was 38–63 %; these scores were maintained on re-testing.
The between-raters agreement of three attending physicians who independently
assessed 28 other cases of alleged ADEs was 80 %, and this was considered to be
very high. Michel and Knodel [145] at the University of South Carolina, Columbia,
used Naranjo’s method of probability-scale algorithms to evaluate and score 28
ADEs in 5 months in 1984 to check on the consistency in evaluating ADEs and
concluded that it compared favorably with other scoring methods.
Speedie and associates [204, 205] at the University of Maryland developed a
CPOE/RR drug-prescribing review program that used a set of rules to provide feed-
back to physicians when prescribing drugs, in an attempt to identify drug orders that
were potentially inappropriate. Their system was expanded in 1987; and their
MENTOR (Medical Evaluation of Therapeutic Orders) system was designed to
monitor inpatient drug orders for possible ADEs and for suboptimal therapy. They
developed a set of rules that judged if the drug, dosage, and regimen were appropri-
ate given the patient’s condition and laboratory results; if the drug was appropriate
and timely laboratory results were obtained; and if appropriate periodic monitoring
of laboratory results were being performed. The failure to follow any of these rules
within a specified time triggered an alert signal and printed a patient-specific
advisory.
Blum [17] studied methods for the computer modeling of clinical causal rela-
tionships, such as occurred with ADEs. He considered medical systems to be inher-
ently probabilistic in nature and emphasized that the task of demonstrating a casual
640 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
relationship was non-spurious (that is, not a false positive or false negative) was the
most difficult task in deriving causal relationships from large clinical databases, due
to confounding variables, lack of size and intensity of the finding, and its validity.
Blum further advised that a true causal relationship was best established by con-
trolled clinical trials.
With the developing interest in using lower-cost microcomputers for medical
computing applications, Harrison and Ludwig [78], at the University of California,
San Francisco, developed a drug-drug interaction system designed to run on an
Apple II microcomputer with 48K RAM and one Apple floppy disc. Using pub-
lished lists of drug interactions for individual drugs or drug classes, the physician
could enter the list of drugs prescribed for the patient; their program then searched
the indexed lists for all classes of drugs that each drug referenced and reported all
drug interactions it found.
Ludwig and Heilbronn [126] described an algorithm that combined Bayesian
and heuristic approaches to non-independent observations of multiple conditions.
With a database containing many attributes (that could be drugs) and diagnoses (that
could be ADEs), they evaluated a variety of statistical approaches; they reported
that a causal network model was inferior to a logistic regression model but was
comparable to that of a linear discriminant function, and could provide inferences
not possible with other simpler statistical methods.
Roach and associates [172] at Virginia Polytechnic Institute developed an expert
system for evaluating ADEs from taking drug combinations. To facilitate clinician
users, they allowed natural language communication with the system. They pro-
vided a database of eight commonly used drugs, containing information on poten-
tial interactions, with explanations on the mechanisms on why these interactions
occurred, as to whether these were chemicophysical, pharmacodynamic, pharmaco-
kinetic, or physiologic; and what corrective action could be taken to minimize inter-
actions. They used PROLOG, a logic programming language that provided a means
for representing facts about the drugs, and rules that could manipulate those facts.
They developed an expert system for pharmacological information to assist in deci-
sions involving combination drug therapy. They organized and encoded pharmaco-
logical information in rules and frames for systemic retrieval of mechanisms
responsible for drug interactions, including interactions between drug classes.
In 1986 the Joint Commission on Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations
(JCAHO) mandated a program of criteria-based, drug use evaluation (DUE) for
patients receiving medications in hospitals, with the goal of monitoring the appropri-
ateness and effectiveness of drug use; and it included the pharmacists intervention in
medication dosage recommendations, medication order clarification, identification
of drug-drug interactions, and of other ADEs [127]. In 1987 the Drug Surveillance
Network, a nation-wide network of hospital-based clinical pharmacists was estab-
lished to serve as a rapid response mechanism for identifying and clarifying early
warning signals of possible problems reported to the pharmaceutical industry or to
the FDA, and to determine the incidence of specific adverse events associated with
certain drugs in hospitalized patients. In 1994 approximately 400 hospitals partici-
pated in this Network, and had collected data on more than 10,000 patients [72].
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 641
Lesar [114] found in a study conducted at the Albany Medical Center Hospital, a
large tertiary teaching hospital in Albany, New York, that from a total of more than
289,000 medication orders written in a 1-year study at that time, the overall detected
error rate was 1.81 significant errors per 1,000 written orders. Brennan [23] reported
that the Harvard Practice Group found that an examination of the medical records of
a representative sample of more than 2.6 million patients in hospitals in New York
State revealed that the statewide incidence of adverse events was 3.7 %; of these
19 % were drug-related. In 1991 a survey conducted of 1,100 clinical pharmacists
in 500 hospitals in the United States and Canada that were enrolled in the Drug
Surveillance Network to perform post-marketing surveillance of drugs found that
more than 85 % had PHARM systems and had implemented spontaneous reporting
systems for the identification of ADEs. Since the drug information was volunteered,
it generally failed to identify many ADEs; and it did not provide adequate data to
quantify the relationships between drug therapy and drug toxicity, or of the inci-
dence rates of ADEs [73].
Dolin [46], at Kaiser Permanente’s Southern California region, began developing
in 1989 an automated medical record on an IBM-PC in the Internal Medicine Clinic
at the Harbor-UCLA Medical Center. In 1990 the clinic added a Pascal interface to
a commercially available drug-interaction program that listed 808 drug interactions,
including some for over-the-counter medications. It was programmed so that, with-
out the user’s having to exit the patient automated record, pressing on the F3 key
would flag any prescribed drug in the patient’s record that had been found to interact
with another prescribed drug, and next pressing on the F4 key would provide com-
ments and recommendations.
Carson [32] reviewed the use of cohort studies that followed a group of patients
exposed to a new drug and compared their experience with that of an unexposed
group or exposed to another drug of the same class.
In 1994 Miller and associates at the Washington University Medical School and
the Barnes-Jewish Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri, began operating their computer-
based pharmacy system for seven pharmacies that annually filled 1.6 million medi-
cation orders and dispensed six million doses of drugs. They used two commercial
pharmacy expert systems that provided alerts for possible ADEs in real time to
pharmacists. The first system, DoseChecker, examined medication orders for poten-
tial under-dosing or over-dosing of drugs that were eliminated in the body primarily
by the kidneys; and gave a recommended new dose for the drug that had caused the
alert. The second, PharmADE, provided alerts for orders of contraindicated drug
combinations, and listed the drugs involved and described the contraindications.
When a potentially dangerous combination was identified, an alert report was sent
via facsimile to the pharmacy responsible for providing the patient’s drugs; and a
daily list of alert reports for patients was prepared and batch processed [146].
Grams [71], at the University of Florida, reviewed the medical-legal experience
with ADEs in the United States and recommended that it should be standard prac-
tice to implement a sophisticated, computer-based pharmacy system for every out-
patient service and deliver the most acceptable drug in a safe and efficacious
manner. The value of automated surveillance of ADEs soon became widely recog-
642 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
information given by each for 20 frequently prescribed drugs. The databases were
then ranked for accuracy and completeness of their prescription information when
compared to the 1998 edition of USP Advice for Patients. The Mayo Clinic Family
Pharmacist had the highest score, followed in descending order by Medical Drug
Reference, Pharm-Assist, Home Medical Advisor, The Corner Drug Store, and
Mosby’s Medical Encyclopedia.
Hennessy [83] wrote that drug utilization review programs were an important
approach to improving quality and decreasing costs of patient care, and could be
used also for identifying adverse drug events (ADEs). Strom [207] noted that drug
utilization data was an important source of insight into disease and treatment pat-
terns of clinicians; and that the National Disease and Therapeutic Index was gener-
ally the most useful in its reporting four times a year on more than 400,000
office-based physicians for all contacts with patients during a 48-h period.
Payne [159] described two medical care centers in the VA Puget Sound Health
Care System that used a clinical event monitor developed by the Veterans Affairs
Northwest Network (VISN20) to prevent and detect medication errors. They
reported that during a typical day their event monitor received 4,802 messages,
4,719 (98 %) of which pertained to medication orders, and concluded the monitor
served an important role in enhancing the safety of medication use.
In the year 2000 the Institute of Medicine estimated that annually about 80,000
people in the United States were hospitalized and died from ADEs; and the report,
To Err is Human: Building a Safer Health System (Institute of Medicine 2000),
increased the attention of the nation to the important need for improving the safety
of drug therapy and for better drug monitoring [105].
As systems for identifying potential ADEs and drug interactions grew, a new
phenomenon, known as alert fatigue, began to be recognized. Brown and associates
[25] described RADARx, a Veterans Administration (VA) VistA-compatible soft-
ware that integrated computerized ADE screening and probability assessment; and
they reported that overall, only 11 % of RADARx alerts were true positives. A lit-
erature review by van der Sijs [215] found rates of override of drug alerts varied
from 49 % to 96 %. Isaac [89] suggested that the current alert systems may be
inadequate to protect patient safety. Phansalkar [160] described an expert panel con-
sensus development on improving alert procedures and reducing alert fatigue.
14.4 Polypharmacy
for unknown possible ADEs. However, many hospital patients and most elderly
patients take multiple prescription drugs (polypharmacy), and are thereby more
often exposed to potential ADEs. Ouslander [158] pointed out that the elderly are
more susceptible to ADEs, they take multiple combinations of drugs, and recom-
mended more research to help make drug therapy in the elderly safer and more
effective. An effective ADE surveillance system for a group of patients, such as the
elderly, who take multiple drugs requires both a very large, longitudinal database of
the total care, inpatient and outpatient, of a very large defined population, in order
to be able to include rare ADEs, and to provide denominators for ADE rates, and a
very powerful computer capable of data mining very large numbers of data items.
Cluff and associates [37] at the Johns Hopkins Hospital developed an early sur-
veillance system for ADEs. From a medication order form, patient and prescription
data for hospital patients were recorded on punched cards; and the data were then
stored on magnetic tape for computer entry. During the initial 1-year of 1965, from
the surveillance of 900 patients they reported that 3.9 % were admitted with ADEs,
and 10.8 % acquired ADEs after admission to the hospital. Those who received
multiple drugs had more ADEs, occurring in 4.2 % of patients who received five or
less drugs, and in 24.2 % of patients who received 11–15 drugs [201, 202].
Fassett [51] noted that in any recent year, drugs have been prescribed for nearly
60 % of the United States population, with the highest exposure rate being in the
very young and in the very old. After age 60 years the average American receives
nearly 11 prescriptions per year. With the access to very large patient databases and
very effective data mining and computer analytics, the likelihood increases of dis-
covering previously unknown ADEs between multiple prescribed drugs.
Monane and associates [148] at Merck-Medco Managed Care program provided
prescription drug benefits through retail and mail pharmacy services for approxi-
mately 51 million Americans. They estimated that individuals aged 65 years and
older constituted 12 % of the United States population, and consumed approxi-
mately 30 % of prescribed medications. They reported a study from April 1, 1996,
through March 31, 1997, when 2.3 million patients aged 65 years and older filled at
least one prescription through their mail-service pharmacy. They developed a drug
database and surveillance system with an ADE alerting program programmed to
identify the most dangerous drugs for the elderly. Of more than 23,000 patients aged
65 years and older who received prescription drugs during this 12 month period, a
total of 43,000 prescriptions generated alerts to pharmacists and triggered phone
calls to physicians, resulting in a significant change in the medication orders. A
meta-analysis of deaths resulting from ADEs indicated that it was between the
fourth and sixth leading cause of death in the United States [111].
The ability to use computer programs to assist in the decision making process that
involved complex drug therapies began to be recognized in the 1960s. Pratt and
associates [165] at the National Cancer Institute reported studying the
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 645
interrelationships of drug dose schedule, drug toxicity, tumor growth, and mortality
rates of mice with an experimental strain of leukemia that were given different
doses of an experimental drug. They developed a mathematical model, and used
their computer to predict survival time and determine optimum dose schedule.
Bonato [18] at the George Washington University Biometric Laboratory reviewed
some of their collaborative studies, conducted with the VA’s Cooperative Studies of
Chemotherapy in Psychiatry and with the Psychopharmacology Service Center of
the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH). These studies were of psychoac-
tive drugs and their effects on behavior. Bonato described how the computer made
possible complex studies that were not previously feasible by allowing statistical
analyses of large collections of data stored on magnetic tape, collected from 37 col-
laborating VA hospitals over multiple months for several drugs; including data from
instruments such as those converting analog to digital electroencephalograms; and
also included 2-year follow-up studies conducted by the NIMH of drugs given to a
group of schizophrenic patients.
Lindberg [120, 123] at the University of Missouri in Columbia described a com-
puter program to assist in the selection of antibacterial drugs therapy. In assays of
the sensitivity of bacteria to drugs, it was necessary to identify the bacteria, and then
consider the effects of an antibacterial drug, including its bactericidal power, its rate
of action, the susceptibility of the organism, and its pharmacological efficiency.
Lindberg advocated computer-based approaches to analyze rapidly the multiple fac-
tors involved; and he reported studies of the effects of different doses of a variety of
antibiotics on different periods of bacterial growth in cultures, as related to mea-
surements of blood and tissue concentrations of the drugs, to help to determine
optimal intervals between doses of the drugs for patients.
Sheiner and Rosenberg [184] at the University of California at San Francisco
developed a pharmacokinetic model to try to better determine the optimal dosage of
a toxic drug for an individual patient in order to improve its desired beneficial effect
and decrease its rate of adverse drug events. For drugs where blood levels were
regularly related to the desired drug effects, such as digitalis preparations, antiar-
rhythmic drugs, and antimicrobial drugs, they developed a computer-based system
that allowed the physician to better produce desired targeted blood levels for these
drugs They used prediction rules derived from studies of the general population for
estimating the volume of distribution of the drug from calculations of the body sur-
face area of the patient being treated based on the patient’s height and weight; and
by estimating pharmacokinetic parameters such as rate of drug elimination from the
body and the resultant drug blood level. Using programs written in Fortran IV and
run on a CDC 6400 computer, tests of the system were conducted on patients treated
with digoxin; and subsequent improved models of the system produced a significant
decrease in the toxicity rate of this drug [183].
Lincoln and associates [116] at the Rand Corporation in Santa Monica, California
began to develop computer-based mathematical models of the treatment of leuke-
mia. With associates at the University of Southern California, Baylor College of
Medicine, University of Oklahoma, and University of Washington, they developed
CLINFO, a prototype computer system to help analyze laboratory and clinical data
on patients treated for leukemia by using graphical displays of data and statistical
646 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
The increasing use of prescribed drugs in patient care has resulted in an increasing
number of adverse drug events (ADEs). One of the most important contributions
computers have made to the quality and safety of medical care was in pharmaco-
therapy and in adverse drug event monitoring. Whereas prior to the 1960s, hospitals
stocked full lines of medications at patient care units in cabinets managed by nurses,
with the advent in the 1970s of automated medication dispensing from unit-dose
machines, this led in the 1980s to automated, ward-based medication cabinets. Prior
to the introduction of hospital unit-dose systems, drugs were sometimes obtained
out of general sources in nursing stations; their administration to patients could be
given at different hospital locations, and were often recorded in different paper-
based records.
Whereas the earliest PHARM systems were primarily used to support drug
administration and pharmacy management functions, it soon became apparent that
the prevention and detection of ADEs needed to be a very important function of a
PHARM system and of a computer provider order entry/results reporting (CPOE/
RR) system. The advent of larger computer-stored databases allowed PHARM
systems to better meet the information needs for discovering and monitoring ADEs
in inpatient and outpatient care for prescription drugs and over-the-counter medica-
tions; and also to provide linkage to all of a patient’s data by a unique patient identi-
648 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
References
1. Abate MA, Shumway JM, Jacknowitz AI. Use of two online services as drug information
sources for health professionals. Methods Inf Med. 1992;31:153–8.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 649
2. Anderson JG, Jay SJ, Anderson M, Hunt TJ. Evaluating the potential effectiveness of using
computerized information systems to prevent adverse drug events. Proc AMIA. 1997;
228–32.
3. Anderson RJ, Young WW. Microcomputers as a management tool for hospital pharmacy
directors. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 231–3.
4. Barnett GO, Justice NS, Somand ME. A computer-based medical information system for
ambulatory care. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 486–7.
5. Barnett GO, Castleman PA. A time-sharing computer system for patient-care activities.
Comput Biomed Res. 1967;1:41–51.
6. Barnett GO. Massachusetts General Hospital computer system. In: Collen MF, editor.
Hospital computer systems. New York: Wiley; 1974.
7. Barret JP, Hersch PL, Cashwell RJ. Evaluation of the impact of the Technicon medical infor-
mation system at El Camino Hospital. Part II. Columbus: Battelle Columbus Labs; 1979.
8. Bates DW, Leape LL, Petrycki S. Incidence and preventability of adverse drug events in
hospitalized adults. J Gen Intern Med. 1993;8:289–94.
9. Bates DW, O’Neil A, Boyle D, Teich J, Chertow GM, Komaroff AL, et al. Potential identifi-
ability and preventability of adverse events using information systems. JAMIA.
1994;1:404–11.
10. Bates DW, Teich JM, Lee J, Seger D, Kuperman GJ, Ma’Luf N, et al. The impact of comput-
erized physician order entry on medication error prevention. JAMIA. 1999;6:313–21.
11. Bates DW, Leape LL, Cullen DJ, Laird N, Petersen LA, Teich JM, et al. Effect of computer-
ized physician order entry and a team intervention on prevention of serious medication errors.
JAMA. 1998;280:1311–6.
12. Bates DW, Cullen DJ, Laird N, Petersen LA, Small SD, Servi D, et al. Incidence of adverse
drug events and potential adverse drug events: implications for prevention. JAMA.
1995;274:29–34.
13. Berndt DJ, Hevner AR, Studnicki J. CATCH/IT: a data warehouse to support comprehensive
assessment for tracking community health. Proc AMIA. 1998; 250–4.
14. Bickel RG. The TRIMIS planning process: decisions, decisions, decisions. In: Emlet HE,
editor. Challenges and prospects for advanced medical systems. Miami: Symposia Specialists;
1978. p. 175–81.
15. Blois MS, Wasserman AI. The integration of hospital information subsystems. San Francisco:
Office of Medical Information Systems, University of California, San Francisco Medical
Center; 1974.
16. Blum BI. A history of computers. In: Blum B, editor. Clinical information systems. New York:
Springer; 1986. p. 1–32.
17. Blum RL. Machine representation of clinical causal relationships. Proc MEDINFO. 1983;
652–6.
18. Bonato RR. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors. Computer analysis of psychopharmacologi-
cal data. New York: Academic; 1965. p. 315–30.
19. Bootman JL. Community pharmacy. In: Levinson D, editor. Computer applications in clini-
cal practice. New York: Macmillan; 1985. p. 167–72.
20. Bouchard RE, Tufo HM, Van Buren H, et al. Everything you always wanted to know about
the POMR. In: Walker HK, Hurst JW, Woody MF, editors. Applying the problem-oriented
system. New York: Medcom Press; 1973. p. 47–61.
21. Braunstein ML. Applications of computers in pharmacy: an overview. Proc AMIA.
1982;7–9.
22. Braunstein ML. Applications of computers in pharmacy. Mobius: J Contin Educ Prof Health
Sci. 1983;3:37–9.
23. Brennan TA, Leape LL, Laird NM, Hebert L, Localio AR, Lawthers AG, et al. Incidence of
adverse events and negligence in hospitalized patients: results of the Harvard Medical
Practice Study I. N Engl J Med. 1991;324:370–6.
650 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
24. Brown GA. Patient care information system: a description of its utilization in Alaska. Proc
SCAMC. 1980;2:873–81.
25. Brown S, Black K, Mrochek S, Wood A, Bess T, Cobb J, et al. RADARx: recognizing,
assessing, and documenting adverse Rx events. Proc AMIA. 2000; 101–5.
26. Brunjes S. Pharmacy information systems. So Med Bull. 1969;57:29–32.
27. Buchanan NS. Evolution of a hospital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:34–6.
28. Burleson KW. Review of computer applications in institutional pharmacy: 1975–1981. Am J
Health Syst Pharm. 1982;39:53–70.
29. Canfield K, Ritondo M, Sponaugle R. A case study of the evolving software architecture for
the FDA generic drug application process. JAMIA. 1998;5:432–40.
30. Caranasos GJ, May FE, Stewart RB, Cluff LE. Drug-associated deaths of medical inpatients.
Arch Intern Med. 1976;136:872–5.
31. Carlstedt B, Jeris DW, Kramer W, Griefenhage R, McDonald CJ. A computer-based phar-
macy system for ambulatory patient care. Indiana Pharm. 1977;58:92–8.
32. Carson JL, Strom BL, Maislin G. Screening for unknown effects of newly marketed drugs.
In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. 2nd ed. New York: Wiley; 1994. p. 431–47.
33. Chan KA, Platt R. Harvard Pilgrim Health Care/Harvard Vanguard Medical Associates. In:
Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. 3rd ed. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 285–93.
34. Choi J, Sullivan J, Pankaskie M, Brufsky J. Evaluation of consumer drug information data-
bases. JAPHA-Wash. 1999;39:683–7.
35. Cimino JJ, McNamara TJ, Meredith T, Broverman CA, Eckert KC, Moore M et al. Evaluation
of a proposed method for representing drug terminology. Proc AMIA. 1999; 47–51.
36. Classen DC, Pestotnik SL, Evans RS, Lloyd JF, Burke JP. Adverse drug events in hospital-
ized patients. Excess length of stay, extra costs, and attributable mortality. JAMA.
1997;277:301–6.
37. Cluff LE, Thornton GF, Seidl LG. Studies on the epidemiology of adverse drug reactions.
I. Methods of Surveillance. JAMA. 1964;188:976–83.
38. Cohen SN, Armstrong MF, Briggs RL, Chavez-Pardo R, Feinberg LS, Hannigan JF, et al.
Computer-based monitoring and reporting of drug interactions. Proc MEDINFO.
1974;74:889–94.
39. Cohen S, Kondo L, Mangini RJ et al. MINERVA: a computer-based system for monitoring
drug therapy. NCHSR research series. DHHS Pub No (PHS) 87-3376. National Center for
Health Services Research and Health Care Technology Assessment; 1987.
40. Cohen SN, Armstrong MF, Crouse L, Hunn GS. A computer-based system for prospective
detection and prevention of drug interactions. Drug Inf J. 1972;6:81–6.
41. Collen MF. The Permanente Medical Group and the Kaiser Foundation Research Institute.
In: McLean ER, Soden JV, editors. Strategic planning for MIS. New York: Wiley; 1977.
p. 257–71.
42. Cuddihy RV, Ring WS, Augustine NF. Modification of a management information system
software package to process drug reaction data. Methods Inf Med. 1971;10:9.
43. Del Fiol G, Rocha BH, Kuperman GJ, Bates DW, Nohama P. Comparison of two knowledge
bases on the detection of drug-drug interactions. Proc AMIA. 2000; 171–5.
44. DePietro S, Tocco M, Tramontozzi A. 1995 pharmacy review. Pharmacy systems: keeping
pace. Healthc Inform. 1995;12:29–30. 2, 34 passim.
45. Diehn M, Alizadeh AA, Brown PO. Examining the living genome in health and disease with
DNA microarrays. JAMA. 2000;283:2298–9.
46. Dolin RH. Interfacing a commercial drug-interaction program with an automated medical
record. MD Comput. 1992;9:115–8.
47. DuMouchel W. Bayesian data mining in large frequency tables, with an application to the
FDA spontaneous reporting system. Am Stat. 1999;53:177–90.
48. Estherhay RJ, Walton PL. Clinical research and PROMIS. Proc SCAMC. 1979; 241–54.
49. Evans RS, Pestotnik SL, Classen DC, Horn SD, Bass SB, Burke JP. Preventing adverse drug
events in hospitalized patients. Ann Pharmacother. 1994;28:523–7.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 651
50. Evans WE, Relling MV. Pharmacogenomics: translating functional genomics into rational
therapeutics. Science. 1999;286:487–91.
51. Fassett WE, MBA RP. Drug related informatics standards. Proc AAMSI. 1989; 358–62.
52. Finney DJ. The design and logic of a monitor of drug use. J Chronic Dis. 1965;18:77–98.
53. Fireworker RB, Esposito V. Computerization of a hospital pharmacy. Proc SCAMC. 1984;
246–50.
54. Friedman GD. Kaiser Permanente Medical Care Program: northern California and other
regions. In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 1994. p. 187–97.
55. Friedman GD, Habel LA, Boles M, McFarland BH. Kaiser Permanente Medical Care
Program. In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 263–83.
56. Friedman GD. Computer data bases in epidemiological research. Proc AAMSI Symp. 1984;
389–92.
57. Friedman GD. Screening criteria for drug monitoring: the Kaiser-Permanente drug reaction
monitoring system. J Chronic Dis. 1972;25:11–20.
58. Friedman GD, Collen MF, Harris LE, Van Brunt EE, Davis LS. Experience in monitoring
drug reactions in outpatients: the Kaiser-Permanente drug monitoring system. JAMA.
1971;217:567–72.
59. Friedman RB, Huhta J, Cheung S. An automated verbal medical history system. Arch Intern
Med. 1978;138:1359–61.
60. Fritz WL. Hospital pharmacy. In: Levinson D, editor. Computer applications in clinical prac-
tice. New York: Macmillan; 1985. p. 173–9.
61. Gall J. Computerized hospital information system cost-effectiveness: a case study. In: van
Egmond J, de Vries Robbe PF, Levy AH, editors. Information systems for patient care.
Amsterdam: North Holland; 1976. p. 281–93.
62. Gall J. Cost-benefit analysis: total hospital informatics. In: Koza RC, editor. Health informa-
tion system evaluation. Boulder: Colorado Associated University Press; 1974. p. 299–327.
63. Garten S, Falkner RV, Mengel CE, Lindberg D. A computer based drug information system.
Med Electron Dig. 1977;2:4–5.
64. Garten S, Mengel CE, Stewart WE, Lindberg DA. A computer-based drug information sys-
tem. Mo Med. 1974;71:183–6.
65. Gehlbach SH, Wilkinson WE, Hammond WE, Clapp NE, Finn AL, Taylor WJ, et al.
Improving drug prescribing in a primary care practice. Med Care. 1984;22:193–201.
66. Goicoechea FJ, Jelliffe RW. Computerized dosage regimens for highly toxic drugs. Am J
Health Syst Pharm. 1974;31:67–71.
67. Gorry GA, Silverman H, Pauker SG. Capturing clinical expertise: a computer program that
considers clinical responses to digitalis. Am J Med. 1978;64:452–60.
68. Gouveia WA. Computer applications in the hospital pharmacy. Hosp JAHA. 1971;45:80–3.
69. Gouveia WA, Diamantis C, Barnett GO. Computer applications in the hospital medication
system. Am J Hosp Pharm. 1969;26:141–50.
70. Graber SE, Seneker JA, Stahl AA, Franklin KO, Neel TE, Miller RA. Development of a
replicated database of DHCP data for evaluation of drug use. JAMIA. 1996;3:149–56.
71. Grams RR, Zhang D, Yue B. A primary care application of an integrated computer-based
pharmacy system. J Med Syst. 1996;20:413–22.
72. Grasela TH. Clinical pharmacy drug surveillance network. In: Strom BL, editor.
Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 1994. p. 289–300.
73. Grasela TH, Walawander CA, Kennedy DL, Jolson HM. Capability of hospital computer
systems in performing drug-use evaluations and adverse drug event monitoring. Am J Health
Syst Pharm. 1993;50:1889–95.
74. Greenlaw CW, Zellers DD. Computerized drug-drug interaction screening system. Am J
Health Syst Pharm. 1978;35:567–70.
75. Grohman G. Evaluating a hospital pharmacy computer system. Comput Healthc.
1983;4:42–3.
652 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
76. Guess HA. Premarketing applications of pharmacoepidemiology. In: Strom BL, editor.
Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 450–62.
77. Hammond WE. GEMISCH. A minicomputer information support system. Proc IEEE.
1973;61:1575–83.
78. Harrison PB, Ludwig D. Drug interactions on a microcomputer. Proc AAMSI Symp. 1983;
479–83.
79. Harwood PM, Causey JP, Goldberger S. Pharmacy system. In: Enterline JP, Lenhard RE,
Blum BI, editors. A clinical information system for oncology. New York: Springer; 1989.
p. 139–60.
80. Haug PJ, Gardner RM, Tate KE, Evans RS, East TD, Kuperman G, et al. Decision support in
medicine: examples from the HELP system. Comput Biomed Res. 1994;27:396–418.
81. Heller WM. Drug distribution in hospitals. Data processing in drug distribution systems.
Hospitals. 1968;42:73.
82. Helling M, Venulet J. Drug recording and classification by the WHO research centre for
international monitoring of adverse reactions to drugs. Methods Inf Med. 1974;13:169–78.
83. Hennessy S, Strom BL, Soumerai SB. Drug utilization review. In: Strom BL, editor.
Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 505–23.
84. Honigman B, Rumack BH, Pons PT, Conner CS, Prince J, Rann L et al. A computerized clini-
cal information system for physicians, pharmacists and nurses. Proc SCAMC. 1984;
308–13.
85. Hripcsak G, Allen B, Cimino JJ, Lee R. Access to data: comparing AccessMed with query by
review. JAMIA. 1996;3:288–99.
86. Hulse RK, Clark SJ, Jackson JC, Warner HR, Gardner RM. Computerized medication moni-
toring system. Am J Health Syst Pharm. 1976;33:1061–4.
87. Humphrey W. Pharmacy computing reaches maturity. Healthc Inform. 1992;9:38–41.
88. Huntington ED. A multi-user, single data base pharmacy system. Proc SCAMC. 1979;
892–6.
89. Isaac T, Weissman JS, Davis RB, Massagli M, Cyrulik A, Sands DZ, et al. Overrides of medi-
cation alerts in ambulatory care. Arch Intern Med. 2009;169:305–11.
90. Jelliffe RW, Bayard D, Schumitzky A, Milman M, Van Guilder M. Pharmaco-informatics:
more precise drug therapy from ‘multiple model’ (MM) adaptive control regimens: evalua-
tion with simulated vancomycin therapy. Proc MEDINFO. 1994;8:1106–10.
91. Jelliffe RW. Computers in cardiotherapeutics. In: Cady LD, editor. Computer techniques in
cardiology. New York: Marcel Dekker; 1979. p. 261–322.
92. Jelliffe RW, Schumitzky A, Rodman J, Crone J. A package of time-shared computer programs
for patient care. Proc SCAMC. 1977; 154–61.
93. Jick H. In-hospital monitoring of drug effects: past accomplishments and future needs. In:
Ducrot H, editor. Computer aid to drug therapy and to drug monitoring. New York: North-
Holland; 1978. p. 3–7.
94. Jha AK, Kuperman GJ, Teich JM, et al. Identifying adverse drug events. JAMIA.
1998;5:305–14.
95. Jick H. Drug surveillance program. Med Sci. 1968;18:41–6.
96. Jick H, Miettinen OS, Sharpiro S, et al. Comprehensive drug surveillance. JAMA.
1970;213:1455–60.
97. Jick H. The discovery of drug-induced illness. N Engl J Med. 1977;296:481–5.
98. Johns RJ, Blum BI. The use of clinical information systems to control cost as well as to
improve care. Trans Am Clin Climatol Assoc. 1979;90:140–52.
99. Jones JK. Inpatient databases. In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. New York:
Wiley; 1994. p. 257–76.
100. Karch FE, Lasagna L. Adverse drug reactions: a critical review. JAMA. 1975;234:1236–41.
101. Kennedy DL, Goldman SA, Little RB. Spontaneous reporting in the United States. In: Strom
BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 151–74.
102. Kerr S. IS-the best medicine for drug-monitoring. Datamation. 1988;34:41.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 653
103. Knight JR, Conrad WF. Review of computer applications in hospital pharmacy practice. Am
J Hosp Pharm. 1975;32:165–73.
104. Kodlin D, Standish J. A response time model for drug surveillance. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:620–36.
105. Kohn LT, Corrigan JM, Donaldson MS. To Err is human: building a safer health system.
Washington, DC: National Academies Press; 2000.
106. Kuperman GJ, Gardner RM, Pryor TA. The pharmacy application of the HELP system. In:
Kuperman GJ, Gardner RM, Pryor TA, editors. HELP: a dynamic hospital information sys-
tem. New York: Springer; 1991. p. 168–72.
107. Kuperman GJ, Bates DW, Teich JM, Schneider JR, Cheiman D. A new knowledge structure
for drug-drug interactions. Proc AMIA. 1994; 836–40.
108. Kurata JH, Overhage M, Gabrieli E, Jones JK. International data standards for hospital-based
drug surveillance. MD Comput. 1994;12:50–7.
109. Kurland L, Annegers JF, O’Fallon W. Utilization of Mayo Clinic records for population-
based long-term evaluations of drug exposure. In: Ducrot H, editor. Computer aid to drug
therapy and to drug monitoring. New York: North-Holland; 1978. p. 69–76.
110. Lassek W, Rendell M, Ross D, Smith C, Kernek S, Williams J et al. Epidemiologic and clini-
cal use of pharmaceutical profiles in an ambulatory care data system. Proc SCAMC. 1982;
346–50.
111. Lazarou J, Pomeranz BH, Corey PN. Incidence of adverse drug reactions in hospitalized
patients: a meta-analysis of prospective studies. JAMA. 1998;279:1200–5.
112. Leape LL, Bates DW, Cullen DJ, Cooper J, Demonaco HJ, Gallivan T, et al. Systems analysis
of adverse drug events. JAMA. 1995;274:35–43.
113. Leape LL, Brennan TA, Laird N, Lawthers AG, Localio AR, Barnes BA, et al. The nature of
adverse events in hospitalized patients: results of the Harvard Medical Practice Study II. N
Engl J Med. 1991;324:377–84.
114. Lesar TS, Briceland LL, Delcoure K, Parmalee JC, Masta-Gornic V, Pohl H. Medication
prescribing errors in a teaching hospital. JAMA. 1990;263:2329–34.
115. Lesko SM, Mitchell AA. The use of randomized controlled trials for pharmaco-epidemiology
studies. In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 539–52.
116. Lincoln T, Aroesty J, Sharpiro NZ. Cancer chemotherapy – an example of physician deci-
sionmaking. Proc San Diego Biomed Symp. 1972;11:177–81.
117. Lincoln TL, Groner GF, Quinn JJ, Lukes RJ. The analysis of functional studies in acute lym-
phocytic leukaemia using CLINFO: a small computer information and analysis system for
clinical investigators. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:95–103.
118. Lincoln TL, Aroesty J, Groner GF, Willis KL, Morrison PF, Isacoff WH. Decision-making in
high-dose methotrexate cancer chemotherapy. Inform Health Soc Care. 1977;2:163–72.
119. Lincoln TL, Korpman RA. Computers, health care, and medical information science. Science.
1980;210:257–63.
120. Lindberg D. Medical informatics/computers in medicine. JAMA. 1986;256:2120–2.
121. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
122. Lindberg DAB, Rowland LR, Buch WF et al. CONSIDER: a computer program for medical
instruction. In: 9th IBM med symposium 1968:59–61.
123. Lindberg D, Reese GR. Automatic measurement and computer processing of bacterial growth
data. Biomedical Sciences Instrumentation, vol 1. Proc 1st National Biomedical Sciences
Instrumentation Symp. 1963; 11–20.
124. Lipman AG, Madeux B. Computer-based formulary service reduces costs, eliminates confu-
sion. Hospitals. 1977;51:109.
125. Lloyd SS, Rissing JP. Physician and coding errors in patient records. JAMA.
1985;254:1330–6.
126. Ludwig D, Heilbronn D. The design and testing of a new approach to computer-aided dif-
ferential diagnosis. Methods Inf Med. 1983;22:156–66.
127. MacKinnon G, Wuller W. Using databases in pharmacies. Healthc Inform. 1993;10:34–6.
38, 40.
654 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
128. Mackintosh DR. A microcomputer pharmacy system for correctional facilities. Proc AAMSI
Cong. 1989; 200–3.
129. Marietti C. Robots hooked on drugs: robotic automation expands pharmacy services. Healthc
Inform. 1997;14:37–8. 40, 42.
130. Marino CA. Cost-benefit analysis of an automated pharmacy system. Proc SCAMC. 1979;
873–7.
131. Marlin RL. Reliability factors in adverse drug reaction reporting. Methods Inf Med.
1981;20:157.
132. Maronde RF, Siebert S. Electronic data processing of prescriptions. In: Bekey GA, Schwartz
MD, editors. Hospital information systems. New York: Marcel Dekker; 1972. p. 73–110.
133. Maronde RF, Rho J, Rucker TD. Monitoring for drug reactions including mutations, in out-
patients. In: Ducrot H, editor. Computer aid to drug therapy and to drug monitoring.
New York: North-Holland; 1978. p. 63–8.
134. Maronde RF, Lee PV, McCarron MM, Seibert S. A study of prescribing patterns. Med Care.
1971;9: 383–95.
135. McDonald CJ. The medical gopher: a microcomputer based physician work station. Proc
SCAMC. 1984; 453–9.
136. McDonald CJ. Protocol-based computer reminders, the quality of care and the non-
perfectability of man. N Engl J Med. 1976;295:1351–5.
137. McDonald CJ, Hammond WE. Standard formats for electronic transfer of clinical data. Ann
Intern Med. 1989;110:333–5.
138. McDonald CJ, Blevins L, Tierney WM, Martin DK. The Regenstrief medical records. MD
Comput. 1987;5:34–47.
139. McDonald CJ, Murray R, Jeris D, Bhargava B, Seeger J, Blevins L. A computer-based record
and clinical monitoring system for ambulatory care. Am J Public Health. 1977;67:240–5.
140. McDonald CJ, Hui SL, Smith DM, Tierney WM, Cohen SJ, Weinberger M, et al. Reminders
to physicians from an introspective computer medical record: a two-year randomized trial.
Ann Intern Med. 1984;100:130–8.
141. McDonald CJ, Wilson G, Blevins L, Seeger J, Chamness D, Smith D et al. The Regenstrief
medical record system. Proc SCAMC. 1977b; 168–9.
142. McMullin ST, Reichley RM, Kahn MG, Dunagan WC, Bailey TC. Automated system for
identifying potential dosage problems at a large university hospital. Am J Health Syst Pharm.
1997;54:545–9.
143. McMullin ST, Reichley RM, Watson LA, Steib SA, Frisse ME, Bailey TC. Impact of a Web-
based clinical information system on cisapride drug interactions and patient safety. Arch
Intern Med. 1999;159:2077–82.
144. Melmon KL. Preventable drug reactions – causes and cures. N Engl J Med. 1971;284:1361.
145. Michel DJ, Knodel LC. Comparison of three algorithms used to evaluate adverse drug reac-
tions. Am J Health Syst Pharm. 1986;43:1709–14.
146. Miller JE, Reichley RM, McNamee LA, Steib SA, Bailey TC. Notification of real-time clini-
cal alerts generated by pharmacy expert systems. Proc AMIA. 1999; 325–9.
147. Miller RR. Drug surveillance utilizing epidemiologic methods. A report from the Boston
Collaborative Drug Surveillance Program. Am J Health Syst Pharm. 1973;30:584–92.
148. Monane M, Matthias DM, Nagle BA, Kelly MA. Improving prescribing patterns for the
elderly through an online drug utilization review intervention: a system linking the physician,
pharmacist, and computer. JAMA. 1998;280:1249–52.
149. Morrell J, Podlone M, Cohen SN. Receptivity of physicians in a teaching hospital to a com-
puterized drug interaction monitoring and reporting system. Med Care. 1977;15:68–78.
150. Murray MD, Loos B, Tu W, Eckert GJ, Zhou X, Tierney WM. Effects of computer-based
prescribing on pharmacist work patterns. JAMIA. 1998;5:546–53.
151. Naranjo CA, Busto U, Sellers EM, Sandor P, Ruiz I, Roberts EA, et al. A method for estimat-
ing the probability of adverse drug reactions. Clin Pharmacol Ther. 1981;30:239–45.
152. Nazarro JT. Looking at a computerized pharmacy in the military sector. Comput Hosp.
1980;1:29–32.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 655
153. Nazarro JT, Barnett WA. Pharmacy Information System, the Charleston Experience. Proc
SCAMC. 1979; 878–9.
154. NDC. National Drug Code. Functional description for pharmacy (Rev. 1.0). Rockville,
MD: NDC Federal Systems, Inc;1983; 1.0–4.4.
155. Nelson SJ, Zeng K, Kilbourne J, Powell T, Moore R. Normalized names for clinical drugs:
RxNorm at 6 years. Rockville, MD: JAMIA. 2011;18:441–8.
156. Nelson SJ, Brown SH, Erlbaum MS, Olson N, Powell T, Carlsen B et al. A semantic normal
form for clinical drugs in the UMLS: early experiences with the VANDF. Proc AMIA. 2002;
557–61.
157. Neuenschwander M. New technology. Healthc Inform. 1994;11:48–54.
158. Ouslander JG. Drug therapy in the elderly. Ann Intern Med. 1981;95:711–22.
159. Payne TH, Savarino J, Marshall R, Hoey CT. Use of a clinical event monitor to prevent and
detect medication errors. Proc AMIA. 2000; 640–4
160. Phansalkar S, van der Sijs H, Tucker AD, Desai AA, Bell DS, Teich JM, et al. Drug-drug
interactions that should be non-interruptive in order to reduce alert fatigue in electronic health
records. JAMIA. 2013;20:489–93.
161. Platiau PE, Gallina JN, Jeffrey LP. Computer improves record keeping. 1. Hospitals.
1972;46:90–5.
162. Platt R. Harvard community health plan. In: Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology.
New York: Wiley; 1994. p. 277–87.
163. Porter J, Jick H. Drug-related deaths among medical inpatients. JAMA. 1977;237:879–81.
164. Pope RA, Slack WV, Janousek, Mattson CJ. A computer-based IV admixture. Methods
Inform Med. 1982;21:65–9.
165. Pratt AW, White WC, Wall DD. A study in experiment cancer chemotherapy. Proc 4th IBM
Med Symp. 1962; 319–25.
166. Prokosch HU, Pryor TA. Intelligent data acquisition in order entry programs. Proc SCAMC.
1988; 454–8.
167. Raschke RA, Gollihare B, Wunderlich TA, Guidry JR, Leibowitz AI, Peirce JC, et al. A com-
puter alert system to prevent injury from adverse drug events: development and evaluation in
a community teaching hospital. JAMA. 1998;280:1317–20.
168. Raub WF. The PROPHET system and resource sharing. In: Computers in life science
Research. FASEB Monographs vol 2. New York: Springer; 1974. p. 189–94.
169. Raymond T. Pharmacy systems review. Healthc Comput Commun. 1987;4:28–38. 54.
170. Ricks TD. A community hospital unit dose medication system for pharmacy and nursing sta-
tions. Proc SCAMC. 1981; 624–9.
171. Rind DM, Davis R, Safran C. Designing studies of computer-based alerts and reminders. MD
Comput. 1995;12:122–6.
172. Roach J, Lee S, Wilcke J, Ehrich M. An expert system for information on pharmacology and
drug interactions. Comput Biol Med. 1985;15:11–23.
173. Royal BW, Venulet J. Methodology for international drug monitoring. Methods Inf Med.
1972;11:75–86.
174. Rubin AD, Risley JF. The PROPHET system: an experiment in providing a computer
resource to scientists. Proc MEDINFO. 1977; 77–81.
175. Runck HM. Computer planning for hospitals-large-scale education and involvement of
employees. Comput Autom. 1969;18:33.
176. Ruskin A. Storage and retrieval of adverse reaction data (and the international monitoring
program). Proc 8th IBM Medical Symp. 1967; 67–8.
177. Samore M, Lichtenberg D, Saubermann L et al. A clinical data repository enhances hospital
infection control. Proc AMIA. 1997; 56–60.
178. Saunders KW, Stergachis A, Von Korff M. Group health cooperative of Puget Sound. In:
Strom BL, editor. Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 1994. p. 171–85.
179. Seed JC. Restricted data formats. Ann NY Acad Sci. 1969;161:484–526.
656 M.F. Collen and S.J. Nelson
180. Seibert S, Brunges S, Soutter JC, Maronde RF. Utilization of computer equipment and tech-
niques in prescription processing. Drug Intell. 1967;1:342–50.
181. Shaprio PA, Stermole DF. ACORN: (automatic coden report narrative). An automated natural
language question answering system for surgical reports. Comput Autom. 1971;20:13–8.
182. Shatin D, Drinkard C, Stergachis A. United Health Group. In: Strom BL, editor.
Pharmacoepidemiology. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 295–305.
183. Sheiner LB, Rosenberg B. Individualizing drug therapy with a feedback-responsive com-
puter system. Proc MEDINFO. 1974; 901–7.
184. Sheiner LB, Rosenberg B. Pharmacokinetic modeling for individual patients: a practical
basis for computer-aided therapies. Proc San Diego Biomed Symp. 1972; 183–7.
185. Shephard RH. Plans for developing a computational facility at the Johns Hopkins Medical
Institutions. Proc 3rd IBM Med Symp. 1961; 191–6.
186. Shieman BM. Medical information system, El Camino Hospital. IMS Ind Med Surg.
1971;40:25–6.
187. Shortliffe EH, Axline SG, Buchanan BG, et al. An artificial intelligence program to advise
physicians regarding antimicrobial therapy. Comp Biomed Res. 1973;6:544–60.
188. Shortliffe EH, Axline SG, Buchanan BG, Cohen SN. Design considerations for a program to
provide consultations in clinical therapeutics. Proc San Diego Biomed Symp.
1974;3:313–9.
189. Shortliffe EH, Davis R, Stanton G, et al. Computer-based consultations in clinical therapeu-
tics: explanation and rule acquisition capabilities of the MYCIN system. Comput Biomed
Res. 1975;8:303–20.
190. Shortliffe EH. A rule-based approach to the generation of advice and explanations in clinical
medicine. In: Schneider/Sagvall Hein, editors. Computational linguistics in medicine. New
York: North-Holland; 1977. pp 101–8.
191. Shortliffe EH, Scott AC, Bischoff MB, Campbell AB, Van Melle W, Jacobs CD. An expert
system for oncology protocol management. In: Buchanan BG, Shortliffe, editors. Rule based
expert systems: the Mycin experiments of the Stanford Heuristic programming project.
Reading: Addison-Wesley; 1984. p. 653–65.
192. Shortliffe EH, Scott AC, Bischoff MB. ONCOCIN: an expert system for oncology protocol
management. 1991; 876–81.
193. Shumway JM, Jacknowitz AI, Abate MA. Attitudes of community pharmacists, university-
based pharmacists, and students toward on-line information resources. Methods Inf Med.
1996;35:142–7.
194. Shumway JM, Jacknowitz AI, Abate MA. Analysis of physicians’, pharmacists’, and nurses’
attitudes toward the use of computers to access drug information. Methods Inf Med.
1990;29:99–103.
195. Siegel C, Alexander MJ, Dlugacz D, Fischer S. Evaluation of a computerized drug review
system: impact, attitudes, and interactions. Comput Biomed Res. 1984;17:149–35.
196. Siegel C, Alexander MJ, Dlugacz YD, Fischer S. Evaluation of a computerized drug review
system: impact, attitudes, and interactions. In: Anderson JG, Jay SJ, editors. Use and impact
of computers in clinical medicine. New York: Springer; 1987. p. 238–56.
197. Simborg DW. Medication prescribing on a university medical service-the incidence of drug
combinations with potential adverse interactions. Johns Hopkins Med J. 1976;139:23–6.
198. Simborg DW, Derewicz HJ. A highly automated hospital medication system: five years’
experience and evaluation. Ann Intern Med. 1975;83:342–6.
199. Sittig DF, Franklin M, Turetsky M, Sussman AJ, Bates DW, Komaroff AL, et al. Design and
development of a computer-based clinical referral system for use within a physician hospital
organization. Stud Health Technol Inform. 1998;52(Pt 1):98–102.
200. Slone D, Jick H, Borda I, Chalmers T, Feinleib M, Muench H, et al. Drug surveillance utilis-
ing nurse monitors: an epidemiological approach. Lancet. 1966;288:901–3.
201. Smith JW. A hospital adverse drug reaction reporting program. Hospitals. 1966;40:90.
202. Smith RM. How to automate a hospital. Mana Serv 1966; 48–53.
14 Pharmacy Information (PHARM) Systems 657
203. Souder DE, Zielstorff RD, Barnett GO. Experience with an automated medication system. In:
Ducrot H et al., editors. Computer aid to drug therapy and to drug monitoring. New York:
North-Holland; 1978. p. 291–301.
204. Speedie SM, Palumbo FB, Knapp DA, Beardsley R. Evaluating physician decision making:
a rule-based system for drug prescribing review. Proc MEDCOMP. 1982; 404–8.
205. Speedie SM, Skarupa S, Blaschke TF, Kondo J, Leatherman E, Perreault L. MENTOR:
Integration of an expert system with a hospital information system. Proc SCAMC. 1987; 220.
206. Strom BL. Pharmacoepidemiology. 2nd ed. New York: Wiley; 1984.
207. Strom BL. Other approaches to pharmacoepidemiology studies. In: Strom BL, editor.
Pharmacoepidemiology, 3rd edition. New York: Wiley; 2000. p. 387–99.
208. Stolar MH. National survey of hospital pharmaceutical services – 1982. Am J Hosp Pharm.
1983;40:963–9.
209. Swanson DS, Broekemeier RL, Anderson MW. Hospital pharmacy computer systems: 1982.
Am J Health Syst Pharm. 1982;39:2109–17.
210. Tayloe DR. The pharmacy computer and the physician. Proc AMIA Congress 1982; 25–6.
211. Trusty RD. TRIMIS approach to automation (pharmacy information). Proc SCAMC. 1979;
869–72.
212. Trusty RD, Nazzaro JT. A Tri-Service regionalized pharmacy information system test and
experience. Proc MEDINFO. 1980; 921–3.
213. Turner GH. Microcomputers in pharmacy: current applications. Proc SCAMC. 1984;
205–7.
214. Ury HK. A new test statistic for the Kodlin-Standish drug surveillance model. Comput
Biomed Res. 1972;5:561–75.
215. van der Sijs H, Aarts J, Vulto A, Berg M. Overriding of drug safety alerts in computerized
physician order entry. JAMIA. 2006;13:138–47.
216. Visconti JA, Smith MC. The role of hospital personnel in reporting adverse drug reactions.
Am J Hosp Pharm. 1967;24:273–5.
217. Wagner MM, Hogan WR. The accuracy of medication data in an outpatient electronic medi-
cal record. JAMIA. 1996;3:234–44.
218. Walker AM, Cody RJ, Greenblatt DJ, Jick H. Drug toxicity in patients receiving digoxin and
quinidine. Am Heart J. 1983;105:1025–8.
219. Walsh PJ. E-pharmacy systems. Prescription and medication fulfillment come of age. MD
Comput. 1999;17:45–8.
220. Weissman AM, Solomon DK, Baumgartner RP, Brady JA, Peterson JH, Knight JL. Computer
support of pharmaceutical services for ambulatory patients. Am J Health Syst Pharm.
1976;33:1171–5.
221. Westin AF. A policy analysis of citizen rights: issues in health data systems. US Dept. of
Commerce, National Bureau of Standards: for sale by the Supt. of Docs., United States
Government Printing Office; 1977.
222. Wiederhold G. Summary of the findings of the visiting study team automated medical record
systems for ambulatory care. Visit to Duke University Medical Center, CDD-5 HRA Contract,
June 29. 1975.
223. Williams FL, Nold EG. Selecting a pharmacy information system. Proc SCAMC. 1983;
200–2.
224. Windsor DA. Adverse-reactions literature: a bibliometric analysis. Methods Inf Med.
1977;16:52–4.
225. Zuckerman AE, Johnson KW. Converting a reference textbook into a computer searchable
database: the experience with the USP DI. Proc SCAMC. 1984; 341.
Chapter 15
Imaging Information Systems
Abstract The earliest radiology information systems (RISs) were developed in the
late 1960s to support administrative tasks such as scheduling and workflow; in
1978, leading developers joined together to form what became the dominant
RIS. Widely deployed today, the RIS is being integrated into the electronic health
record; reporting functions are supported by speech recognition or by structured
reporting. The 1980s saw the development of picture archival and communication
systems (PACS) to store the multiplicity of images generated by new technologies,
notably computerized tomography (CT) and magnetic resonance imaging (MRI),
and make them available for interactive viewing on special display terminals. In the
early 1990s, PACSs were installed in Department of Defense and Veterans
Administration facilities. Today, PACS are blending with teleradiology to support
subspecialists in interpreting examinations 24 h a day. Workflow systems that man-
age RIS and PACS information across multiple hospitals require routing much like
the PACS of the early days. Vendor neutral archives can offer centralized storage
and respond to queries from any PACS/RIS. In radiology, the image component is
governed by the standard known as Digital Communications in Medicine (DICOM);
activities such as orders, reports, and billing are communicated by Health Level 7.
As imaging information systems continue to evolve, preferred implementations for
specific tasks are being defined under the Integrating the Healthcare Enterprise
(IHE); computer algorithms are being developed to aid in the adoption of Computer
Aided Diagnosis (CAD); and visualization and measurements based on 3D imaging
hold promise for some diagnostic and therapeutic tasks.
The practice of radiology (RAD) and diagnostic imaging includes selection of the
best imaging method to determine the cause of symptoms or to assess therapy in a
patient; selection of the optimal acquisition technique for the selected imaging
modality; the interpretation of the images; and the other management needs includ-
ing scheduling, billing, staffing, etc. For the first decades, beginning in the 1960s,
these functions dealt with images captured on film and video, and were managed
manually and with paper-based methods such as card files and film folders. Using
computers to acquire, store, and transmit images seems mundane today, but even
now this can be a challenge. Furthermore, while the explorations of use of comput-
ers in imaging were focused on applications to assist in the interpretation of images,
the greatest early successes were in the reporting and management arenas.
The Radiology Information System (RIS) manages much of the administrative and
textual information that is used in a radiology department, including the referring
physician’s order for the examination, scheduling of the examination, workflow
management and tracking (for the processes of bringing patient and imaging device
together, conducting the examination, producing the images, and transporting the
images and associated information to the radiologist who will do the interpretation),
producing the interpretive report, distributing the report to the referring physician,
and capturing charges and billing for the procedure. Ordering and scheduling may
also be handled by the electronic health record (EHR) system. Although radiology
reports originally were transcribed by transcriptionists, nearly all radiology reports
today are created using speech recognition systems (SRSs). In the days before RIS
and Picture Archival and Communications Systems (PACS), patients would arrive
at the imaging department, sometimes with a hand-written note from the ordering
physician indicating what the issue was, and the type of examination the physician
desired. The radiologist would review the order and determine the precise testing
method and often perform it himself (most radiologists at this time were male).
Once the examination was completed, the radiologist would hand-write his impres-
sion, to be taken back to the ordering physician. By the mid 1940s, it was becoming
more common for the report to be typed, but often it was days after the examination
was performed that the transcribed report was available to the ordering physician.
Radiology information systems were first designed in the early 1960s, when
radiology was largely performed by capturing x-ray images on transparent film
15 Imaging Information Systems 661
stock, so that they would be most optimally visualized when placed on a board or
panel that could be illuminated from behind. Nuclear medicine studies were also
film-based, and cine film was used for fluoroscopic examinations. Performing the
examination involved preparing work lists for the different areas of a department,
preparing folders to hold the films of an examination, collating the images and fold-
ers into a master folder for each patient, and tracking the folders as they made their
way from the area where the examination was performed, to the area where the
interpretation was done by the radiologist. Images were interpreted by hanging the
films on a lighted panel. If previous examinations had been performed for the
patient, especially of the same body region, it was usually necessary to retrieve the
master folder or the subfolder with the relevant examinations of that body region
from the film library, bring it to the interpretation area, and hang the prior films on
the lighted panel alongside the newer images. Once the interpretation was com-
pleted, a film library support person would need to refile the new and older images
in the subfolder, place the subfolder back into the patient’s master folder, and trans-
port it back to the film library for storage.
The earliest systems for managing the internal work of the Radiology Department,
such as examination scheduling, folder management, work list preparation, and
workflow tracking were developed at Massachusetts General Hospital (MGH) and
Johns Hopkins Hospital (JHH) in the late 1960s [1, 12]. In l970, JHH initiated a
prototype information system to process physicians’ written orders, produce work
lists for the nurses, and generate daily computer-printed, patient drug profiles for the
patients’ records. The JHH continued to develop this system, eventually producing
a product that would run on an IBM 2760, which included the capability for radiolo-
gists to use a touch screen to select terms from a lexicon displayed on the screen to
create, edit, and sign off on a report [13]. The reporting application became a com-
mercial product called SIREP by the Siemens Corporation and by 1975 was installed
in over 100 radiology departments in the United States and Europe. In 1975, a
Minirecord (minimal essential record) system was added, which included encounter
forms that were filled out at each patient visit and they also contained an area for
medications and procedures [23]. In 1976, a radiology reporting system was imple-
mented using a terminal that permitted the radiologist to select phrases with which
to compose descriptions and interpretations of x-ray studies. Its output was a com-
puter-printed report that was available as soon as the radiologist completed his inter-
pretation [31].
Bauman, who had worked on the early systems at JHH with Gitlin, moved to
Boston in 1969, where he joined the faculty at MGH while working for the Public
Health Service (PHS). A resident at MGH, Arenson had been a systems engineer for
IBM during his years as an undergraduate and through medical school and internship,
and was working on management systems at that time as well. The two teamed up
with several systems developers from the Laboratory of Computer Science at MGH
directed by Barnett. Arenson became the principal investigator (PI) of a large grant
from the Bureau of Radiological Health (Bauman’s employment by the PHS made
him ineligible to be the PI). Together, they created a system that included such novel
662 B.J. Erickson et al.
concepts as bar code tracking for film folders and a sophisticated scheduling sys-
tem. The actual radiology report was added to the system in 1978.
After Arenson completed his residency, he joined the faculty at the Hospital of
the University of Pennsylvania (HUP), where he immediately began to replicate the
MGH system with a number of enhancements including patient tracking with bar
codes and some management reports along the lines of modern dashboards. At that
time, Jost at Washington University (WU) in St. Louis was independently develop-
ing RIS modules including a number of sophisticated management reports.
Jost and Arenson felt that although they could continue to develop RIS software
to be used at their respective institutions, a commercial company would be impor-
tant to the development of the next generation RIS. This joint effort led to the cre-
ation of the Radiology Information Systems Consortium (RISC). The concept was
to capture the best of breed from systems that were being developed at MGH, HUP,
JHH, and WU. The plan was for experienced users and developers from leading
institutions to drive the functionality, priorities, and future enhancements. A vendor
would be selected that would be responsible for the actual programming, marketing,
sales and support. The vendor would be assured of success and hopefully would
also shorten the development time for new functions.
A conference of RISC was held in Philadelphia in 1978, by that time including a
total of 12 academic sites plus the U.S. Center for Devices and Radiologic Health
(CDRH). A request for proposal (RFP) was developed by the 12 institutions, pri-
marily based on input from MGH, HUP and WU, detailing the functional require-
ments for the RIS. This was followed by a meeting of interested vendors in
Philadelphia; after a review of the responses to the RFP, Digital Equipment
Corporation (DEC) was selected. Arenson became the Chairman of the board of
RISC, and Bauman became the chair of the development task force. That task force
met with DEC developers many times over the next few years, and DECrad was
born. DECrad was very successful and rapidly became the dominant RIS. It was the
RIS used for demonstrating the value of RIS in several reports [15, 16]. DECrad was
sold by DEC to IDX Corporation in 1991 and renamed IDXrad, which continued to
be the leading RIS up until it was sold to GE in 2005, when it was renamed
Imagecast. Throughout these transitions, RISC remained the driving force for this
RIS until GE decided to completely rewrite the application using a different data-
base and an entirely new platform, and it was released in 2004 as version 10.
RISs are now widely deployed in nearly every radiology department in the
United States and much of the world. They are increasingly being integrated into the
EHR as a module because this allows easier extraction of key information for proper
examination execution (e.g. an accurate problem list and medication/allergy list),
for efficient Computerized Physician Order Entry (CPOE), and efficient reporting
and billing.
Beginning in the 1960s, there was considerable activity aimed at capturing radi-
ology reports. Some of the earliest work occurred at the University of Missouri. The
team consisted of Lodwick, Lehr, Dwyer, and Templeton. While they would go on
to be better known for their PACS efforts, they did work on the reporting systems as
well [30]. In addition to the efforts JHH, MGH, HUP, and WU, other work was
15 Imaging Information Systems 663
being done at the Beth Israel Hospital in Boston, the University of Arkansas, and a
few other places. While some efforts were simply to have transcriptionists enter the
text into computers, there was also recognition of the value of using controlled
vocabularies and structure within a report [5–7, 17, 25, 29]. Despite those early
efforts, the convenience of dictation was hard to surpass, and most structured
approaches did not get much traction. While most entry of the report text was per-
formed by transcriptionists in the early days of radiology, most departments now
use SRSs to directly convert the radiologist speech into text. In some cases, there are
transcriptionists that listen to the speech while viewing the output of the SRS to cor-
rect errors, but accuracy is now high enough that this is becoming rare. While good,
SRS is not perfect, and for some speakers and environments, accuracy can suffer.
The result can be nonsense phrases, or worse, phrases that make sense but which are
wrong. For example, the dictation might have been “There is no evidence of tumor
recurrence.” while the SRS might transcribe “There is now evidence of tumor recur-
rence.” Work on algorithms to ‘understand’ the text and highlight potentially
ambiguous words, or phrases that are in conflict with other phrases in the report may
help to address these problems. However, for the example above, both sentences
make ‘sense’ and so another approach is to highlight key words (e.g. ‘left’ and
‘right’) as well as words that have low scores, and thus are more likely to be
incorrect.
Structured reporting (SR) is another approach to improving report accuracy and
readability and to make computer mining of reports more feasible. Rather than
allowing free text dictation, SR recognizes the type of examination done, and pro-
vides a template for the radiologists to fill out. In this way, standardized terms (for
example, RadLex, the lexicon published by the Radiological Society of North
America) can be used which helps reduce ambiguity for humans and computers.
Such templates can be expected of all members of a department in order to increase
consistency of style. It is also possible to require certain fields to increase compli-
ance with mandates such as the Joint Commission’s. An example of this is specific
information that must be included in the reports of head CTs performed on patients
with suspected acute stroke.
Another potential benefit of SR is templates that promote the use of specific
measurements, encouraging quantitative techniques rather than just qualitative
assessments. This is becoming more important as better quantitative imaging meth-
ods are being developed and validated for certain diseases. SR also appears to
improve the completeness of reports by prompting the radiologist to complete each
component of the template. One of the most successful applications has been in
breast imaging, where a standardized vocabulary for reporting called Breast Imaging
Reporting and Data System® (BI-RADS®) developed under the auspices of the
American College of Radiology (ACR) has gone through several updates since its
introduction in the early 1990s [2]. By its use being required as part of the accredita-
tion process for mammography imaging facilities since the late 1990s, BI-RADS®
has enabled many research studies to be conducted that tracked imaging morphol-
ogy to pathologic findings, imaging performance/quality monitoring, and
outcomes.
664 B.J. Erickson et al.
imaging, and many more. Today, typical MRI examinations typically have 100s to
1,000s of images.
Both CT and MRI images were rendered onto film for interpretation in the early
days, and transported to reading rooms in that form. Other traditional modalities
transitioned to direct digital capture, including plain films, fluoroscopy, nuclear
medicine, and ultrasound, but for a while, the exam folders and master folders con-
tinued to be the main way of storing and moving the images around the radiology
department and hospital. This became increasingly burdensome with the multiplic-
ity of images introduced by the newer modalities such as CT and MRI, and the need
for viewing them interactively in order to view the entire dynamic range (gray scale)
and contrast (window and level) settings, zoom, view time series and comparisons,
do measurements, and as noted above, 3D rendering and feature extraction.
As a result, a separate system called a PACS was developed that had special
computing hardware to deal with the images. In particular, the system had special
storage to deal with the ‘large’ size of the images (each radiographic image is typi-
cally 10 MB), when the typical hard disk drive at the time could store only
5 MB. Ethernet was invented in 1983 but was not widely available, so special trans-
mission systems were often required (the speed was 10 megabits per second, but the
bandwidth was shared among all computers on the network, compared to today’s
switched networks where each computer often has its own dedicated circuit).
Computer displays at the time were usually text terminals, so special graphical dis-
plays were required, but again, the images were higher resolution than most graph-
ics terminals could display.
A number of early pioneers created systems that one could call precursors of
PACS. Among these were Dwyer, Lodwick, and Kruger, who worked on computer
diagnoses on workstations [11, 18, 22]. They faced the challenges of needing to
store a sufficient number of images to be clinically relevant. The images could be
stored locally, so network performance was not an issue, but local storage devices
had small capacity compared to the images. In important issue was the display sys-
tem. Cathode ray tubes (CRTs) were the dominant display system, using either a
raster-scanning system (such as for commercial television) or vector-based graphics
(where each ‘stroke’ of a line had to be drawn individually). One important chal-
lenge of using commercial television-class displays was that they had only about
270 unique lines of resolution, far below the resolution of film. Even though display
cards could provide higher resolution, the displays also had poor performance over
time – the phosphors used decayed, particularly those phosphors that had high
brightness, such as were required in most interpretation environments [24]. Despite
these limitations, many in the field could see that computer displays were the future.
Other notable steps in the advancement of digital radiology were led by Capp,
who was an early investigator of teleradiology in the early 1970s. In 1977, Mistretta
created Digital Subtraction Angiography (DSA) that really generated interest in
digital imaging. Huang was performing image processing on CT images in 1977,
and Kundel worked on image perception in 1979, also with digital images. In the
early 1980s Prewitt and Duerinckx were beginning to talk about storing and retriev-
ing digital images and may have been the first to use the term PACS [9]. In 1982,
666 B.J. Erickson et al.
Arenson at HUP created remote archiving and display for portable chest x-rays in
the ICU under a grant from the NIH. With his colleagues, Arenson developed fiber
optic transmission to a remote VAX for image processing and storage. The ability
to store and transmit images on a network resource seems very mundane today, but
it was an important advance for the field.
The first conference on PACS was in Newport Beach, California, in 1982, spon-
sored by the Society of Photo-optical Imaging Engineers (SPIE). Slightly before
this, Dwyer had described what might be the first functional PACS. Because the
standard network technology was not able to rapidly transmit the ‘large’ images,
there were two main options that PACS vendors used to address the challenge.
These two options were referred to as ‘centralized’ versus ‘distributed’ PACS. As
the terms imply, a centralized PACS stored all images in a central server, and relied
on special high-performance hardware to transmit the images to the display station.
In these early days of PACS, there was active debate about the proper architecture
for PACS. The LORAL Aerospace PACS installed at some of the military facilities
was designed with all images stored on a single high performance server with all
workstations connected to it via a dedicated unidirectional fiber optic cable that
transmitted the image data to the workstations, plus an Ethernet connection for all
other communications. The alternative was a distributed system where images were
routed from the imaging device to the appropriate workstation(s) for interpretation,
and then routed on to the PACS for storage and retrieval. In cases where the work
was predictable, the latter worked well and did not require the dedicated and propri-
etary data cable. The PACS architecture debate is no longer an issue because stan-
dard technology (large central servers and gigabit Ethernet) can store and transmit
images to workstations in a timely fashion. LORAL leveraged its expertise in satel-
lite imaging to develop such a system. The system was selected for a large Army
hospital contract because of its ability to ‘display any image, anywhere in 2 sec-
onds.’ The alternative was to build rules about where images are likely to be viewed,
and route them prior to the physician request. While this sounds reasonable, in
practice, medicine was too unpredictable for this to be successful. Today, the high
performance of standard hardware combined with streaming protocols has made
centralized systems the standard.
A watershed event for PACS was the Digital Imaging Network/Picture Archiving
and Communications System (DIN/PACS) contract, where the Department of
Defense released a RFP for a PACS for some of its hospitals. This was an important
step in legitimizing PACS as a viable way to practice radiology. The first installation
of a PACS that utilized a standard data representation for images known as ACR/
NEMA was at Fort Detrick in 1992. (The standard known as American College of
Radiology/National Electrical Manufacturers Association or ACR/NEMA is
described in greater detail below). Shortly thereafter, a fully filmless installation
was successful at Madigan Army Medical Center at Fort Lewis, Washington. The
Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, DC, cooperated with Johns
Hopkins in conducting a baseline study of the image storage and retrieval equip-
ment for the radiology department. In addition, the National Naval Medical Center
at Bethesda had two major interests in utilizing DIN/PACS. The Center in Bethesda
15 Imaging Information Systems 667
was responsible for providing medical care and consults with a number of Navy
bases within 100 miles, of which Patuxent Naval Air Station was one of the more
important. There were high costs associated with patients traveling between the
Naval Air Station and Bethesda Naval Hospital. Having a teleradiology connection
and other links available improved the promptness of diagnosis and treatment and
reduced the costs of transferring patients to Bethesda.
The first completely filmless hospital in the United States was the Baltimore
Veterans Administration hospital, which opened its doors as a filmless facility in
1993. Siegel was selected to be the chair of the department and was instrumental of
the design of the department and also played a critical role in implementation, and
early studies on the value and best practices for a filmless department [28].
As noted above, PACS implementations used special network technology to
transmit images in an acceptable time frame within a hospital. Today, standard net-
work technology is fast enough for PACS. The bigger challenge today is image
transmission between hospitals that have merged and which are many miles apart.
Such mergers are resulting in the development of workflow systems that are respon-
sible for managing RIS and PACS information across multiple hospitals, and per-
form routing much like the PACS of the early days. These workflow systems assure
that different identifiers for a given patient are properly handled, and assure that
prior examinations are available anywhere in the system. They help to assure timely
reporting of examinations even when the images are acquired in a location far away
from the radiologist.
Another important trend that is changing the original architecture of radiology
information systems is the vendor neutral archive (VNA). The key concept of a
VNA is that it can store any image and optionally the report, and can respond to a
query from any PACS/RIS to provide the images and report. This system relies on
the successor of the ACR/NEMA standard known as DICOM, described further
below. Some VNAs can also manage the mapping of patient identifiers for different
health systems. By centralizing the storage, it is a single location that must be que-
ried when EHRs attempt to display images. By decoupling from the production
servers of the PACS, it means that the task of migrating data is not required when a
new PACS or RIS is installed.
15.3 Teleradiology
measures (e.g., Peak Signal to Noise Ratio and Root Mean Squared Error) of the
information present in an image before and after compression. However, there was
disappointingly poor correlation between such measures and diagnostic perfor-
mance. Ultimately, it was found that observer performance tests needed to be per-
formed for each imaging modality to establish the acceptable compression level,
and even then, it was clear that a particular ratio was not appropriate for every image
of one type. In some cases, lossy compression was found to actually improve per-
formance, likely because it removes noise [27]. Another surprise was that the use of
3D compression methods did not perform substantially better than 2D methods even
for thin-slice CT where there is great similarity in image content from slice to slice
[11].
There is now a blending of teleradiology and PACS. While interpretation from
home was a large driver for teleradiology in the past, ‘nighthawk services’ were
developed that contracted with radiology groups to interpret examinations during
the night. These services (and, increasingly, merged hospitals) have subspecialists
interpreting examinations 24 h per day, as a part of a routine shift.
A significant advance in the practice of digital radiology was the development of the
ACR/NEMA standard, later renamed Digital Communications in Medicine or
DICOM. Challenges in digital imaging and PACS were noted as early as the first
SPIE meetings on the topic in the early 1980s. CT and MR scanners were becoming
more common, but each vendor and model stored the image data in a proprietary
format. One had to view images from a given system on the electronic console that
came with that scanner. Researchers that wished to do more than just look at the
images had to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements in order to access the digital image
data. The desire for multi-function, multi-modality interpretation workstations was
also severely hampered by these incompatibilities. It was clear to some leaders in
the radiology field that this was hindering progress, and so the American College of
Radiology (ACR) worked with the National Electrical Manufacturers Association
(NEMA) to develop a standard for image data. The official effort began in 1983,
when members of the ACR combined with the NEMA with the expressed purpose
of developing a standard for exchanging medical images.
There were many key players from academia involved in the development of the
ACR/NEMA standard. Among them were Dwyer, Horii, and Clunie. The role of
industry in the standard was critical, and included people from each of the major
vendors, including Hindle from Philips and Parisot from GE. The first version of
ACR/NEMA was released in 1985, and included not only the information content,
but also a hardware mechanism for exchanging images, including a 100-pin connec-
tor. This first version was a good start in setting the right direction but was not
widely adopted – very few CT or MR scanners ever had the 100-pin connector, for
example.
15 Imaging Information Systems 669
Version 2 was released in 1988, and allowed for transmission over EIA-485,
which meant existing computer transmission hardware could be used. Several ven-
dors demonstrated the transmission of images via V2.0 in 1990, with commercial
availability of equipment at the 1990 RSNA convention. The first large deployment
of V2.0 was at Fort Detrick, Maryland, in 1992. Because few existing image-
creating devices existed, the system utilized ‘gateways’ from DeJarnette Systems to
convert the proprietary format images to V2.0 and then transmitted them to the
PACS, which had been jointly developed by Siemens and Loral Aerospace Systems.
In 1993, the third version of the ACR/NEMA standard was released under the
name DICOM in order to increase the acceptance outside the United States and
outside of radiology. It also provided a much more flexibly and object-oriented style
information model. The standard described ‘tags’ for various pieces of information
about the image, including required elements like the dimensions of the image,
patient name, and examination date. There were also optional fields defined and
optional ‘private’ tags that vendors could use for their own purposes. DICOM con-
tinues to be updated (large changes are referred to as ‘supplements’) as new imaging
methods and requirements develop, and is a good example of academic and industry
partnership.
Because DICOM is focused on the image component of radiology department
activities, items like orders, reports, and billing information are communicated by
Health Level 7 (HL7). Compared to the highly specified information model of
DICOM (some might say ‘rigid’), HL7 is much more flexible in the way that infor-
mation can be communicated. The problem with such flexibility is that two systems
that communicate using HL7 may not be able to work well together. An organiza-
tion called ‘Integrating the Healthcare Enterprise’ (IHE) was formed by the
Radiological Society of North America (RSNA) and the Healthcare Information
Management Systems Society (HIMSS) to define preferred implementations
(referred to as ‘profiles’) for accomplishing specific tasks. As with DICOM, this
effort began with a focus on radiology departments, but now has profiles for most of
medicine.
One recent focus of effort is on sharing medical information between medical
enterprises. IHE profiles describe ways to exchange patient identifiers, and subse-
quently, medical information, between health care enterprises. One recent effort
funded by the National Institute of Biomedical Imaging and Engineering (NIBIB)
is focused on using IHE standard mechanisms to provide patients with images in
digital form, replacing the widespread use of compact discs for image exchange.
In the 1960s, Warner’s medical information system’s computer order entry and
results reporting (CPOE/RR) application was linked to its HELP decision-support
capabilities. When an x-ray order was entered, the computer automatically pre-
sented the reason for the order, and retrieved any previous x-ray reports and relevant
670 B.J. Erickson et al.
laboratory data; and a Bayesian analysis was applied to this order to provide the five
most probable findings [14]. While this constitutes an important form of decision
support for radiology, it is focused on helping the ordering physician.
Computer Aided Diagnosis (CAD) as applied to radiology generally focuses on
assisting the radiologist in detecting a lesion (Computer Aided Detection or CADe),
determining the most likely diagnoses for a lesion (Computer Aided Differential
Diagnosis or CADx), or determining if there is a change in a lesion compared to a
prior examination, such as for assessing a cancer therapy (Computer Aided Change
Detection or CACD). The adoption of CAD in radiology has been slower than some
might have expected. One of the earliest attempts to leverage computation for image
interpretation was by Lindberg and Lodwick [19–21].
Current algorithms seem to mostly improve reliability (“Computer Aided
Diligence”) particularly for less experienced radiologists, or for cases where fatigue
might be a factor. One of the earliest successes (and the first CAD algorithm to be
reimbursed by CMS) was a CAD system for mammography [7]. This system was
widely employed in the ‘second look’ mode, where a radiologist would first review
the images and attempt to identify masses. Then the CAD results would be shown,
to help assure masses were not missed. Such algorithms would often show ‘false
positives’ but are generally designed to be more sensitive and let the radiologist
decide that possible lesions are not true masses.
CAD algorithms are available for other imaging types. CT colonography (CTC)
or virtual colonoscopy involves the laborious task of trying to find polyps in 2D and
3D images made by CT scanners when the colon is insufflated with CO2 gas. Much
like mammography, this is a task that can cause fatigue. Stool can also appear much
like polyps, making the task more challenging. The value of CAD for CTC has been
debated but now is generally accepted and reimbursed. Detection of small lung
metastases and small pulmonary emboli is also a daunting search task where com-
puter algorithms are rather regularly applied.
Another related focus is visualization, which includes a number of approaches
such as 3D rendering, rotation, registration of multiple modalities, and changes in
images over time or as a result of an intervention. If the surface of a structure of
interest can be defined from multiple 2D slices, it is possible to create a 3D render-
ing of the surface using knowledge of optics. These surface renderings utilize the
same ideas and technology as much of the early computer-generated movie industry
like PIXAR. One of the popular early 3D rendering systems was Analyze [26],
which had tools for reading the proprietary image formats and creating 3D images
for the 2D slices, as well as making measurements. Such renderings are now com-
monplace and expected, particularly for vascular imaging where the shape of ves-
sels is critical.
For some diagnostic and therapeutic tasks, 3D measurements are more important
than images. One such example is in surgical planning for liver resections and dona-
tions. In such cases where resection of a portion of the liver is contemplated, com-
puter measurement of the volume that would remain with the patient/donor (and
contributed to a recipient in case of transplant) must be computed, but reception
lines can only occur along anatomic segments. There is a required volume of liver
15 Imaging Information Systems 671
tissue per kilogram of lean body mass to keep a human alive, and only careful 3D
measurements allow such treatment options. Another application is in mesial tem-
poral sclerosis, where precise measurement of the hippocampus can enable success-
ful surgery. Precise measurement of a patient’s aorta and major branches allows
creation of a custom endograft for treatment of aortic aneurysm. In the future, it is
likely that more such applications of precise measurement based on 3D imaging.
15.6 Conclusion
References
1. Alcox RW, Gitlin JN, Miller JW. Preliminary study of automatic data processing applications
to diagnostic radiology at the Johns Hopkins Hospital. The Johns Hopkins University, School
of Hygiene and Public Health, Baltimore, MD; 1967.
2. American College of Radiology. Breast imaging reporting and data systems (BI-RADS®).
Reston: American College of Radiology; 1992.
3. Baker Jr HL, Campbell JK, Houser OW, Reese DF, Sheedy PF, Holman CB. Computer assisted
tomography of the head. An early evaluation. Mayo Clin Proc. 1974;49:17–27.
4. Barnhard H, Long J. Automatic coding and manipulating of radiology diagnostic reports. Proc
conf on the use of computers in radiology. 20–23 Oct 1996. University of Missouri; 1968.
5. Bauman R, Pendergrass H, Greenes R, Kalayan B. Further development of an on-line com-
puter system for radiology reporting. Proc conf on computer applications in radiology. DHEW
Pub No (FDA) 73-8018. 1972: 409–22.
6. Brolin I. Automatic typing and transmitting of radiological reports. Proc conf on the use of
computers in radiology. 20–23 Oct 1996. University of Missouri; 1968.
7. Chan H, Doi K, Lam K, Vyborny CJ, Schmidt RA, Metz CE. Digital characterization of clini-
cal mammographic microcalcifications: applications in computer-aided detection. Proc society
photo-optical instrumentation engineers. Med Imaging II. 1988;914-A:591–3.
8. Chang R, Huang S, Moon WK, Lee Y, Chen D. Solid breast masses: neural network analysis
of vascular features at three-dimensional power doppler US for benign or malignant classifica-
tion 1. Radiology. 2007;243:56–62.
9. Duerinckx AJ, Pisa E. Filmless picture archiving and communication in diagnostic radiology.
Proc SPIE. 1982;318:9–18. Reprinted in IEEE Computer Society Proc PACS.
10. Dwyer III SJ, Harlow CA, Ausherman D, Lodwick G, et al. Computer diagnosis of radio-
graphic images. Proc Soc Photo-Opt Instrum Eng, Appl Opt Instrum Med. 1972;35:106–30.
672 B.J. Erickson et al.
11. Erickson BJ, Krupinski E, Andriole KP. A multicenter observer performance study of 3D
JPEG2000 compression of thin-slice CT. J Digit Imaging. 2010;23:639–43.
12. Gitlin JN, Margulies S. Application of computer techniques to selected diagnostic radiology
operations. Proc Am Pub Health Assn. Detroit, MI; 1968:na.
13. Gitlin JN. Application of automatic data processing techniques to selected diagnostic radiol-
ogy operations. Rockville: US Department of Health, Education and Welfare; 1974.
14. Johnson D, Ranzenberger J, Pryor TA. Nursing applications of the HELP system. Proc
SCAMC. 1984;703–8.
15. Jost RG, Rodewald SS, Hill RL, Evens RG. A computer system to monitor radiology depart-
ment activity: a management tool to improve patient care. Radiology. 1982;145:347–50.
16. Jost RG, Trachtman J, Hill RL, Smith BA, Evens RG. A computer system for transcribing
radiology reports. Radiology. 1980;136:63–6.
17. Kricheff II, Korein J. Computer processing of narrative data: progress and problems. Proc
1966 conf on the use of computers in radiology. 20–23 Oct 1966. University of Missouri;
1968.
18. Lehr J, Lodwick G, Garrotto L, Manson D, Nicholson B. MARS: Missouri Automated
Radiology System. Proc Joint Conf Amer Fed Info Proc Societies. ACM. 1972: 999–1003.
19. Lindberg D. Computer failures and successes. South Med Bull. 1969;57:18–21.
20. Lindberg D. Electronic retrieval of clinical data. J Med Educ. 1965;40:753–9.
21. Lindberg DAB. A statewide medical information system. Comput Biomed Res.
1970;3:453–63.
22. Lodwick GS. The history of the use of computers in the interpretation of radiological images.
Proc ACM con on history of medical informatics. ACM. 1987: 85–94.
23. McColligan E, Blum B, Brunn C. An automated care medical record system for ambulatory
care. In: Kaplan B, Jelovsek RF, editors. Proc SCM/SAMS joint conf on ambulatory med.
1981. p. 72–6.
24. Mizusawa K. The perceptual image formation processes of brightness contrast. Proc society of
photo-optical instrumentation engineers. Appl Opt Instrum Med II. 1974;43:59–62.
25. Pendergrass HP, Greenes RA, Barnett GO, Poitras JW, Pappalardo AN, Marble CW. An on-
line computer facility for systematized input of radiology reports 1. Radiology.
1969;92:709–13.
26. Robb R, Hanson D, Karwoski R, Larson A, Workman E, Stacy M. Analyze: a comprehensive,
operator-interactive software package for multidimensional medical image display and analy-
sis. Comput Med Imaging Graph. 1989;13:433–54.
27. Savcenko V, Erickson BJ, Palisson PM, Persons KR, Manduca A, Hartman TE, et al. Detection
of subtle abnormalities on chest radiographs after irreversible compression. Radiology.
1998;206:609–16.
28. Siegel EL, Kolodner RM. Filmless radiology. New York: Springer; 2001.
29. Simon M, Leeming BW, Bleich HL, Reiffen B, Byrd J, Blair D, et al. Computerized radiology
reporting using coded language 1. Radiology. 1974;113:343–9.
30. Templeton AW, Lodwick G, Sides S. RADIATE: a radiology and hospital computer oriented
communicating system. Proc conf on the use of computers in radiology. 20–23 Oct 1966.
University of Missouri; 1968.
31. Wheeler PS, Simborg DW, Gitlin JN. The Johns Hopkins radiology reporting system.
Radiology. 1976;119:315–9.
Chapter 16
Public and Personal Health Testing Systems
Abstract The explicit relationship between the clinical environment and public
health dates from the 1878 Act of Congress, which authorized the U.S. Public
Health Service to collect morbidity reports for quarantinable diseases. In the 1970s,
hospital infection surveillance programs began to employ computer databases; in
the 1980s, state health departments developed computer-based systems to monitor
communicable diseases. Subsequent developments of databases and techniques
such as data mining improved detection and facilitated alerts; compliance with
reporting accelerated once direct connections were instituted between clinical labo-
ratories and public health agencies. Personal health testing systems (HTS) also
evolved, with the use of multiple tests in what became known as multiphasic screen-
ing. By 1965, Kaiser Permanente was using automated multiphasic health testing
(AMHT) systems in two clinics in Northern California to provide systemized per-
sonal health checkups, including features described later as clinical decision sup-
port. By the early 1970s, AMHT systems had spread into many health care facilities,
for a range of uses that included pre-admission screening of hospital patients and
online records of outpatient encounters, both nationally and internationally. In the
1980s funding and reimbursement issues led to the termination of most AMHT
programs; at Kaiser Permanente, AMHT was integrated into its larger systems.
Since 2001, the CDC has funded the development of real time surveillance systems
that take daily Health Level 7 feeds directly from clinical information systems as
part of syndromic surveillance, a criterion in CDC’s meaningful use program.
The explicit relationship between the clinical environment and public health dates
from the 1878 Act of Congress, which authorized the US Public Health Service to
collect morbidity reports for quarantinable diseases. The Centers for Disease
Control (CDC) in Atlanta established a surveillance system to monitor infectious
diseases in the United States. Data collected at the state and local levels were cen-
tralized in federal level databases to provide national morbidity reporting and
disease-specific surveillance data: Notifiable disease reporting (46 conditions, at
that time); laboratory-based surveillance (with links to the Notifiable-disease report-
ing system); the National Nosocomial Infection Study; the National Electronic
Injury Surveillance System; and other disease-specific systems [40].
Since then, the notion of “surveillance” has taken on several meanings: (1)
Screen for, locate, and track cases of “notifiable” and other diseases, whether at
birth, upon immigration, or intercurrently; (2) Identify outbreaks of disease; and (3)
Assess disease burden in the community or even in a hospital or health system.
Prior to the 1800s health screening tests were provided to immigrants as a public
health measure by the Marine Hospital Service in order to identify those with a
contagious disease such as tuberculosis and syphilis, or with a significant chronic
disease, such as diabetes, who might become a healthcare burden to the country. In
1930 mass screening techniques were applied by the US Public Service for the
detection of syphilis and tuberculosis [4]. Petrie and associates [32] reported
employing mass screening techniques in Atlanta, when between 1945 and 1950
more than one million residents voluntarily took multiple health screening tests; and
they introduced the term multiphasic screening as an extension of mass screening.
Breslow [4] and public health associates in San Jose, California, popularized
multiphasic screening as an efficient way of providing a group of routine health
tests; and Garfield [18] advocated multiphasic testing as an efficient entry mode to
patient care, and an effective way to establish databases for multiple diseases.
Thomas [41], a consultant to the international Organization of Economic
Cooperation and Development (OECD) in which the United States was a member-
country, described the functions of databases in public agencies. He emphasized
that their databases were usually very large, and the way their databases were orga-
nized had a marked influence on all of their activities. He also advised that since
access to public information could mean political power, and since automation often
involved great changes in access to information, a balance between the increased
efficiency of large database management systems for public administration needed
to be balanced with adequate participatory decision making. In the United States
centralized procurement for federal agencies was established by the Brooks Act in
1965; however, the control and use of automated data processing were not to be
controlled or interfered with in any way. Most of the data in public health databases
were composed of appropriate data collected in standardized formats from individ-
ual healthcare providers and medical centers, and from city, county, state, and/or
national public health agencies. Some of the data in public administration databases
16 Public and Personal Health Testing Systems 675
were needed to assure accurate personal identification, but most data were used for
operative and planning purposes.
In the 1970s hospital infection surveillance programs began to employ computer
databases to augment prior manual monitoring methods. In 1980 Hierholzer [23]
and Streed at the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics initiated and installed an
online infection control surveillance database on an IBM 370/3033 system in order
to supplant existing manual collation methods as well as to provide a number of
summary reports [34]. A team with special training in epidemiology and infection
control methods, using criteria established by the CDC, collected, collated, and
entered the data. A study comparing the automated methods to the prior manual
methods showed the new system saved time for both data collection and report gen-
eration. The system provided several new reports, including antibiotic sensitivity
reports, surgical infection rate reports, and notification of potential epidemics
reports; it also supported related research and education programs [34].
Going beyond the hospital, in 1980 LaVenture and associates [25] at the
Wisconsin State Department of Health, initiated a Computer Assisted Disease
Surveillance System (CASS) that consisted of a database written in a version of the
MUMPS program [2] for individual patient’s case records, and provided summary
monthly and yearly disease trends. CASS was used to support the needs of their
epidemiologists to monitor, prevent, and control communicable diseases. Their
objectives were to systematically collect reports of infectious diseases for the popu-
lation in their specified region; consolidate the data into reports with meaningful
summary tables, graphs and charts; interpret the data to detect outbreaks and
describe trends of disease or of factors determining disease; and regularly dissemi-
nate summary data with interpretation to physicians, hospitals, and to other public
health agencies. Wise [44] reported using a Radio Shack TRS-80 Model III micro-
computer with floppy disc drives and a set of programs written in Basic language to
capture patients’ demographic and infection data and to assist with infection control
monitoring and reporting at Mt. Sinai Hospital. The database included files that
permitted the system to generate appropriate periodic infection surveillance reports,
including hospital locations of infected patients, frequencies of the sites of infec-
tions of the body, and sensitivities of the infecting organisms to antibiotics.
In 1987 the CDC established a surveillance database in the state of Washington
for the reporting of patients infected with Escherichia coli serotype O157:H7. This
organism was first discovered in 1982, as a human pathogen that caused bloody
diarrhea that was sometimes associated with serious complications (hemolytic ure-
mia syndrome) [36]. In 1987 this CDC database reported 93 patients, yielding an
annual incidence of 2.1 cases per 100,000 population. Ostroff [31] noted that moni-
toring the occurrence of such infections improved the detection of outbreaks and
provided information leading to better therapy.
In 1988 the Healthcare Cost and Utilization Project (HCUP), a group of health-
care databases was developed through a Federal-State-Industry partnership spon-
sored by the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality (AHRQ) [21]. HCUP
databases brought together the data collection efforts of state organizations, hospital
associations, private data organizations, and the Federal government to create a
676 M.F. Collen and H.P. Lehmann
large national database of patient level healthcare data. Starting in 1988 HCUP data-
bases included: (1) the Nationwide Inpatient Sample (NIS) with inpatient data from
a sample of more than 1,000 hospitals; (2) the Kids’ Inpatient Databases (KID)
starting in 1997 with a nationwide sample of pediatric inpatient discharges; (3) the
State Inpatient Databases (SID) starting in 1995 with inpatient discharge abstracts
from participating states; (4) the State Ambulatory Surgery Databases (SASD)
starting in 1997 with data from hospital and freestanding ambulatory surgery
encounters, and (5) the State Emergency Department Databases (SEDD) starting in
1999 with data from hospital-affiliated emergency departments for visits not result-
ing in hospitalization [21].
Brossette and associates [5], at the University of Alabama at Birmingham,
applied data mining techniques based on association rules to attempt to discover
early and unsuspected, useful patterns of hospital-based infections and antimicro-
bial resistance from the analysis of their hospital’s clinical laboratory data. Clinical
experts in this field of knowledge developed rule templates for identifying data sets
likely to be associated with specified adverse events and a historical database was
mined to create specific association rules that fit those templates. During use, when
statistical high levels of these rule based datasets occurred within a specified time
period, the system would provide an alert signal for the possible occurrence of an
adverse event. They reported the results of a version of their Data Mining
Surveillance System (DMSS) that analyzed inpatient microbiology culture data col-
lected over 15 months in their University Hospital. They found their DMSS was
able to provide alerts for a possible increase in numbers of resistant bacterial infec-
tions that might have been undetected by traditional epidemiological methods.
The National Center for Biotechnology Information (NCBI) of the NLM devel-
oped a pathogen detection pipeline in conjunction with an FDA project which aimed
to rapidly identify pathogenic isolates in order to combat outbreaks of foodborne
illness and antibiotic resistant hospital infections [29].
Computer applications for the public health essential service of surveillance [33]
developed independently of clinical systems [27]. Compliance with reporting accel-
erated once direct connections were instituted between clinical laboratories and
public health agencies. The 9/11 and the anthrax attacks of 2001 spurred the US
government and CDC to fund development of surveillance systems more tied to
clinical practice. The focus was on realtime systems that could take daily Health
Level 7 feeds (i.e., directly from clinical information systems) of free text patient
chief complaints from emergency departments, in a process called syndromic sur-
veillance [22]. These systems, established as CDC-funded Public Health Informatics
Centers of Excellence, were the Electronic Surveillance System for the Early
Notification of Community-based Epidemics, or ESSENCE [26], Real-Time
Outbreak and Disease Surveillance, or RODS [42], and Automated Epidemiological
Geotemporal Integrated Surveillance, or AEGIS [35]. The success of these systems
in multiple localities stimulated the CDC’s meaningful use (MU) program to include
syndromic surveillance as one of its optional criteria in Stage 1 and a required cri-
terion for Stage 2 for eligible professionals, eligible hospitals, and critical access
16 Public and Personal Health Testing Systems 677
hospitals in order to participate in incentive programs for the Medicare and Medicaid
Electronic Health Record (EHR).
In the second edition of Public Health Informatics and Information Systems,
Magnuson and Fu [28] provide a comprehensive look at public health informatics in
areas beyond surveillance.
The early 2000s saw the rise of novel sources of data for surveillance, both
Internet search engines [19] and social media [6]. The potential in public health for
social media is much broader than surveillance [17]. Hospitals began using these
source as signals for patient (customer) “sentiment” and other indicators of quality
care [20]. These applications of informatics move beyond patient-based screening,
to personal health testing systems, as essential public health services.
Before 1900 public health screening was applied to immigrants to identify those
with significant disease who might become a burden to the country. In 1930 mass
screening techniques were applied by the US Public Service for the detection of
syphilis and tuberculosis [4]. Petrie and associates [32] exploited the capabilities of
mass screening techniques in Atlanta, where between 1945 and 1950 more than one
million residents voluntarily took multiple health screening tests, and applied the
term multiphasic screening to the extension of mass screening. Breslow and associ-
ates in San Jose, California, popularized multiphasic screening as a more efficient
way of providing combinations of tests, and advocated follow-up healthcare ser-
vices in conjunction with screening programs [3]. In 1948 an editorial in the Journal
of the American Medical Association [24] proposed that in contrast to the periodic
health examinations traditionally provided by physicians, and commonly called
“health checkups”, health screening procedures could be widely applied, were rela-
tively inexpensive, and required relatively little time of physicians.
In 1963 a health risk appraisal (HRA) program was initiated by Robbins, chief of
the Cancer Control Branch, Division of Chronic Diseases of the US Public Health
Service, and Sadusk at George Washington University School of Medicine. The
program related the results of procedures performed in personal health examina-
tions to relative health hazards of an individual, using tables that provided the prob-
ability of death on an age and sex basis, based on data that showed 60 % of all deaths
in any age group were due to approximately 15 causes. They proposed this approach
to appraising probable personal health hazards provided a feasible personal preven-
tive medicine program. Based on the premise that each person had an individual set
of health hazards for each age-sex-race group, and supplemented with the person’s
family and past history findings and the results of a personal health examination, the
HRA provided an appraisal of the probable risk of death for a person and advised
that person how an individualized preventive medicine plan could decrease the
identified health risks [37]. In the 1980s health risk appraisals were used by a variety
678 M.F. Collen and H.P. Lehmann
In 1963 Collen and associates [7] at Kaiser Permanente (KP) in Northern California
developed and began operating multiphasic health testing (MHT) systems in their
San Francisco and Oakland medical centers to provide systemized personal health
checkups. In 1965 they added the data processing power of an IBM 1440 computer
to develop automated multiphasic health testing (AMHT) systems. The extension of
the use of the computer from the clinical laboratory directly into its use for routine
periodic health examinations exploited its potential for supporting direct patient
care. As online procedures, while the patient was still present, the computer pro-
cessed the information from: (1) the punched cards for anthropometry and blood
chemistry; (2) all data collected from the examinee including a self-reported health
questionnaire that was acquired by the examinee sorting a deck of punched cards
into separate sets of “Yes” or “No” responses (with comparisons to responses from
any prior questionnaires); (3) a group of physiological measurements (blood pres-
sure, spirometry, visual and hearing acuity, height and weight); (4) physicians’
interpretations of an electrocardiogram, chest x-ray, and breast x-rays in women
over age 50; and (5) urine tests, blood hemoglobin test and a white cell count. The
punched cards were read by a card reader into the data communication system; and
the data were stored in the central computer in Oakland. An online summary report
for the physician contained all test results, any alert flags, and suggested likely diag-
noses to consider [7–9, 12].
In the first 3 years, 12,500 examination records were stored on magnetic tape
using a fixed field, fixed format design that was economical to program, and also
permitted rapid storage and retrieval of any specific data collected for any single
examination. The data collected included patient’s identification, appointment
schedules, registration and referral data, patient’s medical histories, physician’s
physical examinations, diagnoses, follow-up referrals, clinical laboratory tests,
x-rays, electrocardiograms, physiological measurements (blood pressure, spirome-
try, height and weight), specialty procedures (tonometry, visual and hearing acuity),
immunization records, and others. As what would be described later as clinical deci-
sion support, the system included “alert” signals for test results outside of predeter-
mined normal limits, “advice” rules for secondary sequential testing, “consider”
rules for likely diagnoses, comparisons of current history question responses with
previous responses, and signals of “new symptoms” when reported by the patient
for the first time. The continuing long-term computer patient record (CPR) permit-
ted comparisons of current patient data to prior data for identifying clinically sig-
nificant changes. Demonstrated reliable and secure, the system provided a large
16 Public and Personal Health Testing Systems 679
Shambaugh [38, 39] at the Pacific Health Research Institute in Honolulu, noted that
in the late 1960s the US Public Health Service (USPHS), supported by the findings
of the KP AMHTS, established four large multiphasic testing centers in Milwaukee,
Brooklyn, Baton Rouge, and Providence for the purpose of demonstrating the new
technique and developing long term statistics on its medical and cost effectiveness.
In 1969 the US Congress was developing legislation to make multiphasic health
testing (MHT) an integral part of Medicare, and the USPHS sent out a request for
bids for a large, highly automated center to be located on Staten Island, and a new
medical industry was born. A prototype online, real time system for multiphasic
health testing for the Massachusetts General Hospital was developed by GD Searle
and Co.; the firm added Science and Engineering Inc. as a subsidiary and Medidata
was formed. In the US, Medidata’s customers were hospitals, group practices, and
pathologists who saw automated multiphasic health testing centers to be extensions
of their automated clinical laboratories.
In the early 1970s AMHT systems had spread into many industrial and private In
the 1980s most AMHT programs in the United States were terminated due to: (1)
lack of support from Medicare and public health institutions that questioned the
cost-effectiveness of annual health evaluations; (2) lack of reimbursement from
health care insurers that paid its members only for their care when sick; and (3)
opposition from fee-for-service physicians who considered AMHT programs to be
financially competitive [30] with health care facilities in the United States. Although
the cost effective process of delivering health care as set forth by Garfield [18] had
its challenges, some studies supported their effectiveness for early detection [10]. In
the 1960s and the 1970s AMHT systems in KP medical centers were actively opera-
tional on the principle that periodic health evaluations had an essential role in main-
taining personal health; and Garfield [18] proposed that AMHT systems should be
the efficient entry to personal total health care.
An economic recession in 1973 led Congress to reduce support for preventive
medicine programs. By the 1980s most AMHT programs in the United States had
been or were being terminated due to (1) lack of support from Medicare and public
health institutions that questioned the cost-effectiveness of annual health evalua-
tions; (2) lack of reimbursement from health care insurers that paid its members
only for their care when sick; and (3) opposition from fee-for-service physicians
who considered AMHT programs to be financially competitive [30]. University
based programs supporting the development of AMHT demonstrations were phased
out. The Staten Island Center funding was withdrawn. Grant funding for the
Massachusetts General Hospital Center was eliminated. The USPHS demonstration
and research centers were phased out entirely. Legislation for Medicare reimburse-
ment was withdrawn. Within Kaiser Permanente, standalone AMHT programs were
gradually absorbed by the organization’s large centralized medical information
16 Public and Personal Health Testing Systems 681
system and standalone computer-based clinical subsystems, and capital costs for
building space began to soar.
The extension of the use of the computer from the laboratory directly into routine
periodic health examinations exploited its full potential for supporting direct patient
care, when the patients’ blood and urine tests were collected in an automated multi-
phasic health testing center, along with a group of other physiological measure-
ments, all stored in a computer, and provided to the physician with a summary
report that contained all test results, reference values, alert flags, and likely diagno-
ses for the physician to consider [12, 14]. Other and broader public health uses of
computing grew dramatically after the turn of the century.
Since 2000, we have seen the emergence of the subdiscipline known as infec-
tious disease informatics. As extensively covered in Infectious Disease Informatics
and Biosurveillance [45], this new field uses surveillance data sources and surveil-
lance analytics (e.g., text mining, spatial and temporal analyses, simulation, etc.) to
detect and respond to infectious disease outbreaks and protect the health of the
public.
References
13. Collen MF, Davis LS, Van Brunt EE, Terdiman JF. Functional goals and problems in large-
scale patient record management and automated screening. FASEB Fed Proc.
1974;33:2376–9.
14. Collen MF, Rubin L, Neyman J, Dantzig GB, Baer RM, Siegelaub AB. Automated multiphasic
screening and diagnosis. Am J Publ Health Nation Health. 1964;54:741–50.
15. Cordle F. The automation of clinic records: an overview with special emphasis on the automa-
tion of office records in the primary medical care setting. Med Care. 1972;10(6):470–80.
16. Dion M. Risk assessment and health improvement. In: Squires WD, editor. Patient education
and health promotion in medical care. Palo Alto: Mayfield Pub. Co; 1985. p. 201–9.
17. Eysenbach G. Infodemiology and infoveillance tracking online health information and cyber-
behavior for public health. Am J Prev Med. 2011;40:S154–8.
18. Garfield SR. The delivery of medical care. Sci Am. 1970;222:15–23.
19. Ginsberg J, Mohebbi MH, Patel RS, Brammer L, Smolinski MS, Brilliant L. Detecting influ-
enza epidemics using search engine query data. Nature. 2009;457:1012–4.
20. Greaves F, Ramirez-Cano D, Millett C, Darzi A, Donaldson L. Harnessing the cloud of patient
experience: using social media to detect poor quality healthcare. BMJ Qual Saf.
2013;22:251–5.
21. HCUP. US overview. Healthcare Cost and Utilization Project (HCUP). June 2014.
22. Henning KJ. What is syndromic surveillance? MMWR Morb Mortal Wkly Rep.
2004;53(Suppl):5–11.
23. Hierholzer Jr WJ. The practice of hospital epidemiology. Yale J Biol Med. 1982;55:225–30.
24. JAMA. Editorial: streamlining health examinations. JAMA. 1948;137:244.
25. LaVenture M, Davis JP, Faulkner J, Gorodezky M, Chen L. Wisconsin epidemiology disease
surveillance system: user control of database management technology. 1982:156.
26. Lombardo JS. The ESSENCE II disease surveillance test bed for the national capital area.
Johns Hopkins Apl Tech Dig. 2003;24:327–34.
27. Lombardo J, Buckeridge D. Disease surveillance: a public health informatics approach.
Hoboken: Wiley-Interscience; 2007.
28. Magnuson JA, Fu PC. Public health informatics and information systems. 2nd ed. New York:
Springer; 2014.
29. NLM. National Library of Medicine. Programs and services annual report FY2012. nlm.nih.
gov/ocpl/anreports/fy2012.pdf. Accessed 2015.
30. Oldfield H. Automated multiphasic health testing: a diagnosis in three parts. J Clin Eng.
1978;3:292–301.
31. Ostroff SM, Hopkins DP, Tauxe RV, Sowers EG, Strockbine NK. Surveillance of Escherichia
coli O157 isolation and confirmation, United States, 1988. MMWR CDC Surveill Summ.
1991;40:1–6.
32. Petrie LM, Bowdoin CD, McLoughlin CJ. Voluntary multiple health tests. J Am Med Assoc.
1952;148:1022–4.
33. PHFSC. Public health in America. Public Health Functions Steering Committee, Centers for
Disease Control and Prevention. 2008.
34. Rasley D, Wenzel RP, Massanari RM, Streed S, Hierholzer Jr WJ. Organization and operation
of the hospital-infection-control program of the University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics.
Infection. 1988;16:373–8.
35. Reis BY, Kirby C, Hadden LE, Olson K, McMurry AJ, Daniel JB, et al. AEGIS: a robust and
scalable real-time public health surveillance system. JAMIA. 2007;14:581–8.
36. Riley LW, Remis RS, Helgerson SD, McGee HB, Wells JG, Davis BR, et al. Hemorrhagic
colitis associated with a rare Escherichia coli serotype. N Engl J Med. 1983;308:681–5.
37. Sadusk JF, Robbins LC. Proposal for health-hazard appraisal in comprehensive health care.
JAMA. 1968;203:1108–12.
38. Shambaugh V. MJ Clinics in Asia. Personal communication with M. Collen. 2012.
39. Shambaugh V. The origin of the International Health Evaluation and Promotion Association
(IHEPA). Personal communication with M Collen. 2010.
16 Public and Personal Health Testing Systems 683
40. Thacker SB, Choi K, Brachman PS. The surveillance of infectious diseases. JAMA.
1983;249:1181–5.
41. Thomas U. OECD informatics studies. Computerized data banks in public administration.
1971.
42. Tsui FC, Espino JU, Dato VM, Gesteland PH, Hutman J, Wagner MM. Technical description
of RODS: a real-time public health surveillance system. JAMIA. 2003;10:399–408.
43. Warner HR. Computer-based patient monitoring. In: Stacy RW, Waxman B, editors. Computers
in biomedical research, vol. III. New York: Academic; 1972.
44. Wise WS. Microcomputer infection surveillance system. Proc SCAMC. 1984:215–9.
45. Zeng Q, Gainer V, Goryachev S. Using derived concepts from electronic medical records for
discovery research in informatics for integrating biology and bedside. Proc AMIA Annu
Symp. 2010.
Chapter 17
Decision Support Systems (DSS)
Abstract In the 1970s, to control costs and comply with Medicare rules, hospitals
began to use computer-based systems for utilization review. In the early 1980s, a
diagnostic related group (DRG) approach was applied to hospital payments, and
increasingly complex data reporting requirements led hospitals to establish quality
assurance programs. Medical information, or medical knowledge, databases for
clinical decision support (CDS) were developed in the 1980s. The capabilities pro-
vided by online real time monitoring, vastly increased data storage, and physician
order entry and results reporting (OE/RR) came together in CDS programs in the
2000s; by 2010 most physicians were using systems that provided online practice
guidelines as well as clinical reminders and alerts about potential adverse clinical
events. These advances build upon techniques from other fields, including artificial
intelligence; the emergence of huge clinical databases in the 1990s led to the use of
data mining to uncover previously unknown important relationships between clini-
cal data elements, and the use of efficient knowledge discovery algorithms to extract
knowledge from data by identifying and describing patterns in a meaningful man-
ner. To support knowledge creation in biomedicine, the National Library of Medicine
produces and maintains hundreds of up-to-date scientific databases, including
MEDLINE (over 23 million citations with 700,000 posted in 2013 alone), human
genome resources, toxicology and environmental databases (searched billions of
times a year by millions around the globe).
Sections of this chapter are reproduced from author Collen’s earlier work Computer Medical
Databases, Springer (2012).
Author Collen was deceased at the time of publication. McCray edited the chapter on his behalf
after his death.
M.F. Collen (deceased)
A.T. McCray (*)
Center for Biomedical Informatics, Harvard Medical School, Boston, MA, USA
e-mail: [email protected]
Some of the earliest computer applications to patient care were to support the deci-
sion making processes of health care providers, including administrators, physi-
cians, nurses, technicians, and others. Computer programs were developed to help
administrators monitor the utilization of care services and to help assure a high
quality of patient care. Soon a great variety of automated online clinical decision
support systems (CDSS) and computer-based order entry and results reporting
(CPOE/RR) were developed for real time ordering of tests and procedures and to
provide alerts, alarms, advice, and help to health care providers when unexpected
events or variations from the expected occurred. Large scale clinical knowledge
bases allowed sophisticated algorithms to make novel associations and discover
new clinically relevant knowledge.
reviewer to interact with a display terminal, and review all data in patients’ records
to assure that the criteria for good quality patient care were met. The output of the
review was a report structured to furnish a detailed patient profile prior to, during,
and after psychiatric care.
To ensure that services and payments to Medicare beneficiaries were medically
necessary and in accordance with accepted standards of care, in 1972 Congress
enacted legislation that directed the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare
to establish an Office of Professional Standards Review. An Experimental Medical
Care Review Organization was established by Sanazaro et al. [105], then the
Director of the National Center for Health Services Research and Development, to
develop working models to test the feasibility of conducting systematic and ongoing
review of medical care. Trained hospital personnel completed abstracts of the
patients’ records, from which computer printouts were generated that matched pre-
defined criteria for a diagnosis with data abstracted from each patient’s hospital
discharge. In 1974 the Office of Professional Standards Review Organization issued
a PSRO Program Manual. After a review of the increased regulations imposed by
Congress requiring regular reviews of health care costs and quality, the American
Hospital Association wrote that much of the data required by the PSRO lent itself to
automation for ease of handling, review, and reporting [97]. The PSRO require-
ments for uniform reporting of data included a hospital discharge data set and other
data concerning the number of days certified at admission, and admission review
procedures and their outcomes. Soon the American Nurses Association published
standards of practice for nursing care.
Forrest [53] summarized studies at Stanford University analyzing data from the
Professional Activity Study, and reported that abstracts of patient charts could be
used to measure the quality and cost of care in hospitals. However, individual hos-
pitals began to install their own systems, since as Ball [10] had concluded, comput-
ers in medical care were no longer a choice but a requirement not just to meet the
needs for better patient care but also to comply with the government regulations
imposed by the PSRO and the National Health Insurance legislation.
As an example of the influence of all these regulations on hospitals, Smith [112]
noted that the impetus for the development of the electronic medical record system
at Druid City Hospital came primarily from the so called PSRO Amendments to the
Social Security Act. Using an IBM System/3 computer for the patient record data-
base, the hospital instituted a hospital information system providing an order entry
module for the clinical laboratory, pharmacy, and radiology and a module for admis-
sion and bed census; all were linked to the business office billing system and were
capable of providing a concurrent review of all inpatients.
In 1976 Budkin and associates [35] at the Miami Heart Institute initiated their
PSRO computer subsystem. Their 258-bed private hospital had admitted 7,500
patients in 1979; of these 73 % were Medicare patients. Their PSRO computer-
based system used a dual-processor Xerox Sigma computer with 128 terminals sta-
tioned throughout the hospital. They developed one online and three batch-processed
report programs. The online program allowed the patient review coordinator to
enter all information generated from reviews of patients’ records. Reports were
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 689
printed each night for each physician, describing each patient’s status and alerting
the physician to the number of days elapsed since the patient’s admission. A monthly
report analyzed the number of admissions and the associated lengths of stay and
gave comparisons with prior months. A year-end report summarized monthly aver-
ages and compared the data for Medicare patients with non-Medicare patients. The
researchers noted that although frequent revisions of their subsystem were required
by the PSRO agency, overall the system helped to reduce the time that physicians
spent in utilization review activities. It also eased the clerical workload required to
comply with the PSRO rules and guidelines.
In the 1980s the implementation of the diagnostic related groups (DRG) classifi-
cation for hospital patients extended the process of utilization review to include
length-of-stay criteria. The Utah Professional Review Organization used a centrally
managed system of nurse reviewers in Utah’s 42 acute care hospitals. As patient
records were received, an abstract was completed containing the Uniform Hospital
Discharge Data Set together with a record of adverse clinical events that occurred
during hospitalization. The abstracts were keypunched into the computer database,
from which the organization conducted a variety of studies in utilization and quality
of care [76]. In 1982 because the DRG method of payment was considered by some
to place so much emphasis on cost containment that it could endanger the quality of
care, the PSRO program was replaced by Congress with the Peer Review
Organization (PRO). Assigned the major responsibilities for monitoring the imple-
mentation of the Medicare Prospective Payment Program that was initiated in 1983,
the PRO was to emphasize outcome measures of care rather than process measures
[75].
Mullin [92] at the Yale-New Haven Hospital reported a computer-based, concur-
rent utilization review program that provided standards for length of stay by DRG
rather than by diagnosis. Furthermore, for the hospital’s individual medical practi-
tioners, Mullin developed profiles that showed the actual versus the expected per-
centage of a medical practitioner’s patients discharged at the 50th, 75th, and 90th
length-of-stay percentiles of the comparison norms. Fetter [51] advocated applying
the DRG approach to hospital payments as improving utilization review and evalu-
ating hospital performance, since the patients fitting into a DRG required generally
similar services.
These complex data reporting requirements resulted in hospitals establishing
quality assurance programs that developed criteria for selecting medical records for
review and detection of adverse events and of negligent care. These programs func-
tioned as action plans within an institution to establish minimum acceptable stan-
dards for patient care, and to monitor the delivery of patient care to assure that these
standards were met or surpassed [12]. Quality assurance monitoring required the
establishment of uniform criteria for diagnoses and treatment of specific diseases
for hospital patients. Previously these review processes had been performed by the
manual audit of patients’ charts by physicians and nurses. As the costs of medical
care increased and computer-based medical information systems became common,
quality assurance programs for evaluating and monitoring the quality of care became
increasingly important to health care administrators and policy makers.
690 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
Time-consuming offline manual audits of paper-based medical records had been the
usual basis for quality assurance programs, since the patient care process recorded
online in the medical record could be easily compared to predefined standards of
care and to published results of evidence-based patient therapy. By the 1970s the
capability of computers to support these processes began to be used. Whereas the
medical audit of paper-based records had always involved a retrospective review of
care, online monitoring of patient care was more effective in detecting any varia-
tions from desired practices at the time the care was actually being provided.
Christofferson and Moynihan [37] described process-based methods that evalu-
ated the care provided to individual patients; these methods usually required exam-
ining the medical record and comparing the care provided to clinical norms.
Outcome oriented methods were typically statistically driven and allowed for the
measurement of quality through the comparison of patients’ health outcomes with
empirically derived norms. Statistical assessments did not evaluate the care ren-
dered to individual patients; rather they combined data for many patients to com-
pare the quality of care across institutions. Outcome methods assumed the
availability of computer-based data collection and analysis. Generic screening com-
bined process oriented case review with the outcome oriented statistical method. It
relied on the clinical review of the patient record and used a single set of criteria
applied uniformly across all diagnostic categories; adverse events that should not
occur were defined as those having a high probability of being associated with sub-
standard care. Generic screening had a high potential in automated screening sys-
tems; as hospital information systems advanced, the various adverse events
monitored as a part of generic screening systems could be integrated into a system
that automatically alerted for cases that needed further clinical review. Gabrieli [56]
asserted that computers had the potential to mechanize a major portion of the qual-
ity assurance work, and the challenge was to codify the medical intelligence neces-
sary to monitor the quality of care provided for a price that was affordable. Gabrieli
had developed computer-based patient records and automated analysis techniques
for discharge summaries, and had concluded that for audit purposes the discharge
summary was well suited as a source document.
In the late 1980s Drazen [47] at A. D. Little reported out that, in addition to man-
aging patients’ lengths of stay, some hospital utilization review programs also
checked patients’ records for unnecessary utilization of resources and omitted ser-
vices, and provided reminders about services that should be considered. In 1989 the
Joint Accreditation Commission for Healthcare Organizations (JACHO), formerly
the Joint Commission on Accreditation of Hospitals (JCAH), reported on its prog-
ress with developing clinical indicators for obstetrics, anesthesia, and hospital-wide
care to pilot test this generic screening approach in 17 hospitals. The commission
explained that an indicator was not a direct measure of quality, but rather was a
screen or flag that identified or directed attention to specific performance issues
within a health care organization that should be the subject of more intensive review
[62]. At the end of the 1980s an Institute of Medicine committee recommended that
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 691
Congress restructure the PSRO program into Medicare Quality Review Organizations
to emphasize more systematic data collection, analysis, and feedback to providers
and practitioners, and to be explicitly oriented to quality of care and not to utiliza-
tion or cost control [75]. By that time computer software programs were available
to provide hospital information systems with a comprehensive quality assurance
program that generally included support for both review and remedy. These included
the review of patients’ records for over- or under-utilization of care services; for the
appropriateness of the care services provided to patients; for identification and anal-
ysis of adverse events or injuries to patients caused by the care process as distin-
guished from those caused by the disease process; and for provision of incident or
occurrence reports (such as a patient falling out of bed). Also included were risk
management (such as maintaining the condition of corridor floors to avoid slip-and-
fall accidents); infection control (protection from hospital-acquired infections); the
monitoring of medical injuries or iatrogenic diseases (conditions resulting from
medical interventions, such as a medication overdose); and the institution of appro-
priate corrective actions in each case.
Although computer-aided systems for utilization review and for quality assur-
ance held great promise, by the end of the 1980s few such systems were in opera-
tion. One problem was that few such programs were operational in large, integrated
health information systems with computer-based patient records. Another problem
was the inability of national agencies to agree on clinically validated criteria for
defining the processes and procedures for arriving at diagnoses and for providing
treatments for what would be considered appropriate and high quality care. The
JACHO concluded that computerization of clinical data collecting activities in hos-
pitals was progressing slowly and that there was as yet no user-friendly national
reference database to support hospitals in their efforts to use performance measures
to monitor the quality and appropriateness of patient care [96].
In the 2000s evolving clinical decision support programs provided more effec-
tive methods to improve the quality of patient care in hospitals, both by decreasing
errors through online monitoring and verification of data in real time as they were
entered into the computer, and by furnishing information on alternative therapies as
orders were entered.
Whenever there was a controversy about the quality of care provided to a patient,
the patient’s medical record was the primary document used for review, which had
to be available at any later review exactly as it existed at the time when the disputed
clinical decision was made. For a computer-based medical record, this requirement
imposed a high degree of data integrity on the hospital information system, since the
patient’s medical record stored in the system’s databases had to be restored and
reconstructed in exactly the same format and content as they appeared to the physi-
cian at the time and date in question.
692 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
patient care process. Barnett (1978) concluded that an online CDSS offered a unique
technique to promote positive changes in medical care practice.
In 1963 Lindberg and associates [72] at the University of Missouri in Columbia
installed an IBM 1410 computer in their medical center, which had 441 hospital
beds and admitted 60,000 patients in the year of 1964. Their overall objective was
to support the practice and teaching of medicine. A major initial project was the
development of a system for reporting all clinical laboratory determinations through
the computer [71]. At that time their laboratory data were keypunched into cards,
and the test data on approximately 500,000 tests per year were then entered into the
computer. Other files of patient material being computer processed included a tumor
registry, hospital discharge diagnoses, operations file, and surgical pathology file.
The system soon supported the hospital’s admission, discharge, and patient census
programs, patient billing and accounting, nightly nursing report sheets, dietary
department inventory; periodic hospital statistics, and personnel records.
Their system also supported 34 research projects and was used in the teaching of
medical students [69]. They used the Standard Nomenclature of Diseases and
Operations (SNDO) for the coding of patients’ discharge diagnoses and surgical
operative procedures [73] and stored these on magnetic tape for all patients admit-
ted to the hospital from 1955 to 1965. Other categories of patient data in the system
included a patient master reference file with identification data stored on a random-
access disk file. All SNDO-coded diagnoses for autopsy and surgical-pathology
specimens and all coded radiology and electrocardiogram interpretations were
stored on magnetic tape in fixed-field format. Computer routines were available for
recovery of all categories of data stored. All were aimed at medical student and
physician inquiries [70].
To query the system, the user keypunched a control card with the code number
of each diagnosis about which the user was inquiring. The computer system read the
punched cards and searched the magnetic tape records containing all diagnoses.
When a record with the specified code was found, the system identified the unit
numbers of the patients associated with the diagnosis, and assigned a “flag” in the
random access working storage corresponding with each patient who had the diag-
nosis [34]. In 1965 they replaced the punched card system in their clinical labora-
tory with IBM 1092/1093 matrix-keyboard terminals to permit entering test results
into the computer. The test results were submitted to a “limits” program, which
categorized them as reasonable, abnormal, or as unreasonable. The system was pro-
grammed to recognize patterns of laboratory test results with other findings recorded
in the patient’s record, and to advise the physician of patient care actions to
consider.
After studying the patterns found in almost 6,000 electrolyte determinations for
serum sodium, potassium, chlorides, and carbonate, Lindberg [69] was able not
only to identify important combinations of abnormal test values, but also to recog-
nize new patterns and predict the state of kidney function. Their laboratory system,
which they had begun to develop in 1963, continued to be a main focus of their
hospital information system. By 1968 the team had added an information system for
their department of surgery to provide patient identification, admission, and
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 695
discharge functions; listing of all surgical complications while in the hospital; oper-
ating room entries made by the surgeon, anesthesiologist, and circulation nurse;
laboratory, surgical-pathology, and autopsy reports; a daily operating room log; and
individual patient summary reports.
Lindberg [68] also developed his CONSIDER program, which used the American
Medical Association (AMA) publication, Current MedicalTerminology, to provide
the signs, symptoms, and findings for common diagnoses. If the user submitted a set
of signs and symptoms, the computer would then list the diseases the physician
should consider. With Kingsland, Lindberg initiated a fact bank of biomedical infor-
mation for use by practicing physicians and also by scholars and students that con-
tained information from diverse origins, such as textbooks, monographs, and
articles.
Collen and colleagues [42, 104] used a symptom frequency approach to differen-
tiate between gastrointestinal diagnoses such as hiatus hernia and duodenal ulcer. In
the 1970s Collen [41] provided some clinical decision support rules in a multi-
health testing system that included alert and warning signals for patients with clini-
cal laboratory test results outside of predetermined normal limits, and provided
advice rules for secondary sequential testing and consider rules for likely diagnoses.
All patient data were stored in electronic patient records (EPRs), and also in a
research database.
In the early 1970s Warner and associates at the Latter Day Saints (LDS) Hospital
in Salt Lake City developed their Health Evaluation through Logical Processing
(HELP) program that provided a CDS system with the capability of online monitor-
ing of patient care services, in an effort to detect inappropriate orders by physicians
and incorrect administration of medications by nurses. The system at the LDS
Hospital had display terminals located at its nursing units that allowed the nurses to
select orders from displayed menus, and to review the orders entered and the results
reported for their patients. The system also provided discharge and transfer func-
tions. Warner [123] had already published the use of Bayes Rule applied with a very
high accuracy to the computer-aided diagnosis of congenital heart disease. In 1972
Warner approached the problem of quality assurance and clinical decision support
for ambulatory care patients by using the HELP system. The group provided com-
puter protocols to nurse practitioners who functioned as physician assistants and
monitored the patients’ care. After patients completed a computer-based self-
administered questionnaire, an assistant entered the findings into the system. Based
on the patient’s history and physical examination data, the interactive protocol sys-
tem would decide what diagnostic, procedural, and therapeutic decisions should be
considered for the patient. These decisions would then be audited by the system
according to protocol logic. If any patient data necessary for these decisions were
found lacking, the assistant would then be prompted for the collection of those data.
Protocols were implemented for upper respiratory infections, urinary tract infec-
tions, hypertension, and diabetes. After an initial learning period, data entry error
rates of 1 % were reported, significantly less than those of paper protocols, and there
were no cases where the assistants failed to collect or enter data prompted by the
computer [36].
696 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
In the 1980s, Warner’s computer-based provider order entry and results reporting
program was linked to his HELP decision support program. When an order for an
x-ray or laboratory test was entered, the computer automatically retrieved any previ-
ous x-ray or laboratory reports; with the physicians’ reasons for requesting the
order, a Bayesian analysis was applied to provide the radiologist with the five most
probable diagnoses [63]. When a medication order was entered, the display sug-
gested an appropriate dosage and dispensing schedule based on data such as the
patient’s age, weight, other prescribed medications, and laboratory tests results
obtained from the electronic patient record; it also suggested alternative medica-
tions that should be considered. Warner’s group further enhanced its menu-based
order entry programs with relevant data added from the complete clinical patient
profile in the electronic health record for the dynamic creation of patient adjusted
order entry screens that relied on the centralized patient database, a medical knowl-
edge base, and an inference machine that combined these two information sources
to create data entry screens fitting the needs of the specific patient. Warner also
developed a program that combined a centralized patient care database and a medi-
cal knowledge base, and used these two databases to create data entry screens that
fit the individual needs of the specific patient. The system also suggested procedures
and treatments for the patient’s problems [99]. Haug [58] reviewed their extensive
experiences in decision support using the HELP system. As their experience
increased, Warner’s group developed ILIAD, one of the earliest computer-based
“intelligent” CDS programs.
In the 1970s McDonald [80] at Indiana University was one of the earliest to
develop and use an outpatient information system, known as the Regenstrief Medical
Record (RMR). The system included a clinical decision support system to assist in
the process of providing clinical reminders, suggestions, recommendations, advice,
alerts, or alarms to help ensure that the quality of office care conformed to pre-
defined medical practice guidelines. Patient data were captured automatically by the
computer-based laboratory and outpatient pharmacy systems; or were recorded by
hand as marks or numbers on computer-printed encounter forms and were then opti-
cally scanned. A two-part patient encounter form was generated for each patient’s
return visit. The physician was able to identify the patient readily, to note the active
problems from the last visit, and to see the active treatment profile. The physician
recorded numeric clinical data, such as weight and blood pressure, for later optical
machine reading into the computer. The problem list was updated by drawing a line
through problems that had been resolved and by writing in new problems that had
arisen. Progress notes were entered in the space beside the problem list. Space was
also provided for writing orders for tests and for return appointments; and within the
space for orders, the computer suggested certain tests that might be needed. The
patient’s current prescriptions were listed at the bottom of the encounter form in a
medication profile; the physician refilled or discontinued these drugs by writing “R”
or “D/C” next to them and wrote new prescriptions underneath this list. The patient
took a carbon copy of this section of the encounter form to the pharmacy as his
prescription.
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 697
Thus, the encounter form performed many of the recording and retrieving tasks
for the physician. Data recorded by physicians on the encounter forms were entered
by clerks into the computer. Laboratory information was captured directly from the
laboratory system. Pharmacy prescription information was collected from both the
hospital and outpatient pharmacy systems. Essential information from hospital
stays, such as diagnoses, was transferred from hospital case abstract tapes. The
patient summary report was the second report generated for each patient’s return
visit. This report included laboratory data, historical information, treatment, radiol-
ogy, EKG, nuclear medicine, and other data in a modified flow sheet format [84]. It
also listed the patient’s clinic, hospital, and emergency room visits and the results of
x-ray and laboratory tests, with test results presented in reverse chronological order.
With this time-oriented view of the data, the physician could quickly find the most
recent data (for example, blood pressure or blood sugar) and compare them to the
previous levels. An asterisk was placed beside each abnormal value for emphasis.
The objective of the patient’s summary report was to facilitate data retrieval and to
perform some data organization tasks for the physician. McDonald [84] reported
that the RMR used paper-based reports, rather than displayed reports, as its primary
mechanism for transmitting information to the physician since it was cheap, porta-
ble, and easier to browse, and paper reports could be annotated with paper and
pencil.
By the mid-1970s McDonald’s RMR system provided a cumulative summary
report that presented the information stored in the computer-based patient record
and also printed an encounter summary form to be used for the coming visit. In
addition, the RMR system furnished a surveillance report by which the computer
transmitted its protocol-generated suggestions as clinical decision support to the
physician. Specific clinical situations and their associated advised actions were
defined in terms of protocols that the computer could interpret directly. McDonald
developed an early computer-based provider order entry/results reporting program
that used protocols with specific rules for defined adverse clinical events, including
adverse drug events, and provided alerts and advice with recommended courses of
actions necessary to correct the adverse events. The computer screened each
patient’s medical record for specified events prior to the patient’s next clinic visit. If
any of the adverse clinical situations were present, they were reported on the sur-
veillance report, along with the recommended actions. The earliest protocols were
primarily related to the ordering of some commonly used drugs and were intended
to ensure that specified indicated procedures were done at proper intervals. As an
example, the program would recommend that a laboratory test be ordered following
the prescription of a certain potent drug, or it warned the physician of the possibility
of adverse interactions between two prescribed drugs. After conducting a controlled
study, McDonald concluded that the computer could change clinician behavior by
providing prospective recommendations, and reported that clinicians noticed and
responded to more drug-related clinical events with such recommendations than
without. The patient’s surveillance report was generated for each patient’s return
visit; this report represented sophisticated data processing involving the selection
and interpretation of patient data to assist the physician in clinical decision making.
698 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
In 1988 the RMR system was linked to the local Veterans and University hospi-
tals’ laboratory, radiology, and pharmacy systems, and contained more than 24 mil-
lion observations on 250,000 patients. In 1 year patient information was captured
for more than 300,000 outpatient visits and for 20,000 hospital admissions. Thus,
Indiana University physicians who rotated their work in those hospitals could use
the same RMR programs to find and analyze clinical data for patient care. RMR’s
query programs permitted users, through the CARE program, to generate clinical
care reminders and queries across sets of patients in the RMR medical record data-
base; it also provided a program for statistical analyses of groups of patients.
By the end of the 1990s the RMR system served a large network of hospitals and
clinics [87] and had become a leading model in the United States. McDonald’s out-
standing contribution was to focus on the computer’s capabilities for providing real
time reminders to physicians about problems reflected in the outpatient care data. In
addition, the group scientifically evaluated, by controlled clinical trials, the effects
of these computer reminders on the quality of care in an online, practice linked,
quality assurance program.
In 1969 the Division of Cardiology at Duke University Medical Center in
Durham, North Carolina, began to collect data on their patients hospitalized with
coronary artery disease. The information collected included each patient’s history,
physical examination data, and the results of laboratory and diagnostic tests and of
cardiac catheterization. Users entered data from cardiac catheterization by using a
coding algorithm that displayed a series of questions; the user entered the responses.
A total of ten keystrokes was used to describe the coronary anatomy of a patient.
The database was used in their clinical practice to provide automated reports of the
testing procedures and results and to provide diagnostic and prognostic profiles of
new patients based on their previous experience [100]. These data on cardiac cath-
eterization results and patients’ outcomes were aggregated in the Duke Databank
for Cardiovascular Disease and used to support clinical research in this field [101].
In 1974 Stead and Hammond at Duke University Medical Center began to use a
clinical decision support symptom-oriented protocol used by physicians and para-
medical personnel in their Health Services Clinic for managing patients with upper
respiratory infections. A list of medical records that contained the diagnostic code
for this condition was compiled in the computer, and the manual records for these
patients were then audited for data completeness and protocol compliance [4]. By
1980 they used their GEMISCH language CDS program to provide computer-
generated reminders to improve physicians’ drug prescribing practices in their
Community and Family Medicine Clinic. Information that identified each prescrip-
tion and the prescribing physician was entered into the computer system. Lists of
commonly prescribed drugs and their generic equivalents were stored in a computer-
based dictionary, with messages detailing the cost savings and therapeutic advan-
tages for each of these generic equivalents or therapeutic alternatives. An
individualized feedback profile reported each time a prescriber wrote one of the
selected brand name drugs or less desirable therapeutic alternatives. They reported
that whereas a control group of physicians prescribed 29 % of drugs generically, the
700 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
They also suggested that the system enabled identification of individual medical
practitioners whose performance might need to be modified.
In 1982 Brewster [30] at Little Company of Mary Hospital, a 500-bed facility in
Evergreen Park, Illinois, described a hospital information system with a quality
assurance program in which continuous concurrent monitoring occurred by having
the system check for an appropriate response each time a process was initiated for
which criteria had been developed. Automatic reminders were printed to prompt
desired responses in the patient care process; inappropriate responses were stopped
if the sequence of actions was initiated through the online computer system and did
not coincide with previously programmed instructions. The quality assurance pro-
gram was applied to radiology patient preparation, clinical laboratory specimen req-
uisition and collection, pharmacy medication system, drug-drug interaction and
drug-allergy systems, dietary system, and central service order system.
By the end of the 1980s, it was expected that a CDSS with clinical practice
guidelines would become an integral part of a computer-based quality assurance
program. In 1988 physicians had generally agreed to accept practice guidelines to
support effective medical care, in the belief that such rules could preserve quality of
care in the face of continued cost-cutting [5].
Research on artificial intelligence (AI), the branch of computer science associ-
ated with machines that perform tasks normally thought to require human intelli-
gence, was initiated in the 1950s with a major goal of understanding the processes
of intelligent thought [74]. The Dendral Project was one of the first large-scale
programs to embody the strategy of using detailed, task-specific knowledge about a
problem domain as a source of heuristics; that is, promoting investigations condu-
cive to discovery, seeking generality through automating the acquisition of such
knowledge, and attempting to distill from this research lessons of importance to AI
research [74]. The heuristics employed were based on specific knowledge of chem-
istry and knowledge of the atoms and bonds of molecules. The first large implemen-
tation of Dendral was done over long-distance telephone lines. When the DEC
PDP-6 computer arrived at the Stanford AI Lab, the program was transferred there
[32, 33].
Using techniques from the AI field, the MYCIN program was developed by
Shortliffe’s group at Stanford University School of Medicine in the 1970s [106,
108]. Written in the LISP programming language, MYCIN used medical knowl-
edge acquired from experts in the field of infectious diseases to help assess each
patient’s needs, and to then give advice and provide explanations for its judgments
[44]. MYCIN was composed of three programs. First, a “consultation program”
arrived at therapeutic decisions using a built-in knowledge base for micro-biology,
as well as the patient’s data that had been entered by the physician. After acquiring
facts about the infection of interest, such as the specific micro-organism involved, a
series of “if-then” production rules based on the stored expert knowledge would
provide the appropriate advice. For example, if the causative organism was found to
be bacteria “X”, then it was advised to prescribe “Y” as the appropriate treatment.
If the patient’s physician questioned the advice, the program could be interrupted;
and it then allowed the entry of questions, such as “Why?” Common questions had
702 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
pre-programmed answers; and MYCIN then allowed for further questions that pro-
duced higher-level explanations. MYCIN allowed physicians who were inexperi-
enced in computing to enter their questions and receive answers in natural language.
Second, the “explanation program” allowed MYCIN to justify its recommendations
and to answer a physician’s questions about its reasoning process. It simultaneously
kept a record of what had happened if this information were needed for subsequent
reviews. Third, the “knowledge acquisition program” allowed infectious disease
experts to update or correct the system’s knowledge base. In 1976 MYCIN had
more than 400 rules representing the transformation of knowledge from a number
of infectious disease experts into decision-making criteria and rules [127].
In 1979, the success of the MYCIN project led the Stanford group to develop
ONCOCIN, an oncology protocol management consultant program designed to
assist physicians in the treatment of cancer patients. They used OPAL, an icon-
based graphical programming language that allowed physician cancer specialists to
enter complex cancer treatment protocols that could include groups of drugs for
cycles of chemotherapy combined with radiotherapy [93]. A set of programs,
ONCOCIN included an “Interviewer” that reviewed data entered from the patient’s
outpatient visits and passed the data to a second rule-based program, a “Reasoner”
that used artificial intelligence techniques to recommend the optimal therapy for the
patient based upon its logic of the management protocol and the patient data and
allowed the physician to examine and approve or modify the ONCOCIN advice.
Any changes were kept available for future review. The “Reasoner” program used
parameters and rules (260 rules initially) presented in a natural language stylized
format similar to those used in the MYCIN system [107, 109]. The “Interpretation”
program helped analyze the data, and an ONYX decision support program recom-
mended cancer chemotherapy for patients whose clinical course was atypical, such
as when patients received multiple cycles of modified treatments under different
clinical settings over different periods of time [65]. An evaluation of ONCOCIN
found a slight divergence from ONCOCIN’s advice and the actual clinical treatment
given, but both were judged by clinical experts to be acceptable in most cases;
recording of relevant data was found to increase when the ONCOCIN system was
used [91].
Spencer and colleagues [18, 113] proposed that the apex of the pyramid of the
patient care process was the physician’s order set and that virtually all activities in a
hospital were planned to support and implement these patient care orders. Prior to
the advent of computer-based medical information systems, the ordering of tests
and procedures (such as clinical laboratory tests, x-ray examinations, surgical pro-
cedures, and others) by health care providers (physicians, nurses, and other licensed
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 703
The earliest results reporting (RR) systems in the 1960s were usually batch-
processed; results reports of all routine non-urgent tests and procedures were usu-
ally printed centrally. The paper printouts were then dispatched to the appropriate
nursing stations to be filed in the patients’ paper-based charts. Upon the completion
of a “stat” (urgent) procedure, the results were individually printed out, or reported
by telephone to the nursing station. In the 1970s with the advent of visual display
terminals, urgent test results became retrievable on demand from the electronic
patient record system.
In 1980 Black [22] at the Ohio Department of Mental Health published a detailed
guide for planning, implementing, and evaluating an Automated Peer Review
System. The great advantage of concurrent review made possible by an online elec-
tronic patient record was the ability to provide immediate CPOE feedback for dis-
closed errors and to permit faster corrective action than was possible by retrospective
manual review methods.
In 1982 the 540 bed St. Mary Medical Center in Long Beach, California, used its
IBM PCS) system to initiate a CPOE/RR system. This eliminated the need to send
paper requisitions to the various clinical support departments and permitted a user
to view results from these departments by using a computer terminal located in the
nursing unit [89]. Finseth [52] and Brunjes studied the consistency in the recording
of blood pressure measurements, the diagnosis of hypertension, and the associated
prescribed medications as measures of appropriate quality of care for this condition.
They reported that the outpatient information system’s patient records readily pro-
vided the capacity for identification of individual patients who should have their
blood pressures checked, such as those for whom a diagnosis of hypertension was
indicated and those who needed treatment. They also suggested that the system
enabled identification of individual practitioners whose performance might need to
be modified.
Anderson [6] reported that the use of personal order sets by physicians at the
Methodist Hospital of Indiana, which had installed the Technicon HIS in 1987,
resulted in faster order entry and results reporting, a significant decrease in the error
rate for entering orders, decreased nursing paperwork, and greater use of the direct
order entry mode by physicians. By the end of the 1980s it was expected that clini-
cal practice guidelines and alerts for adverse events evaluated as clinical decision
support would become an integral part of the information system computer-based
quality assurance programs and of CPOE/RR systems [5].
In the 1990s Hripcsak and associates [61] at the Columbia-Presbyterian Medical
Center in New York developed a generalized clinical event monitor that would trig-
ger a warning about a possible adverse event in clinical care, including possible
medication errors, drug allergies, or drug side effects, and then generate a message
to the responsible health care provider. Their objective was to generate alerts in real
time in order to improve the likelihood of preventing adverse drug events.
By the 2000s most hospital information systems contained online, interactive
CPOE modules that facilitated the direct entry of orders by physicians, thereby
eliminating clerical intermediaries and any need to send paper requisitions to the
various clinical support departments. By using interactive visual-display terminals
706 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
and clinical workstations located in the nursing units and in the physicians’ offices,
physicians and nurses were able to view the results of tests and procedures they had
ordered that were transmitted from the various clinical support departments; and
urgent test results became retrievable on demand from the central computer-stored
database of patient records.
In the 2000s clinical workstations began to be used for order entry since they
permitted online guidelines for clinical decision support. The results reporting func-
tion communicated the results of procedures and tests from the clinical support
systems back to the terminals located in the hospital, in the clinic, and in physicians’
offices. By 2010 the diffusion of electronic health records and clinical workstations
had resulted in most physicians’ accepting computer-based CDSS with CPOE/RR
programs that provided online practice guidelines, in addition to clinical reminders
and alerts, to help define and monitor effective, quality patient care.
adverse clinical events began also to provide clinical decision support with alerts,
advice, and clinical practice guidelines. Rind and associates [102] at the Beth Israel
Hospital in Boston also described the importance of computer-generated alerts and
reminders in monitoring ACEs. They defined a reminder as a communication that
was sent to a clinician at the time of seeing a patient and defined an alert as a com-
munication sent as soon as it became evident that an adverse condition had occurred
that warranted an alert. A common example was when the pharmacy system
employed the results reporting application of the CPOE/RR program to promptly
send an alert on the discovery of an adverse drug event; or the clinical laboratory
system sent an alert of a possible adverse effect of a drug on a test result.
In the 1960s Sterling and associates [115] at the University of Cincinnati proposed
that a high-speed digital computer could be an ideal instrument with which to review
and query a large number of patients’ clinical records with the objective of finding
within the huge masses of clinical information some important associations between
the recorded patient care events. They developed an approach they called “robot
data screening.” Since the multitude of possible relations among the many variables
to be analyzed was much too large for traditional statistical or epidemiological
approaches, they studied models for analyzing combinations of two variables, then
combinations of three variables, then of four variables; and they soon realized that
the numbers of combinations of variables would become impractical even for their
current computer when working fulltime. Accordingly, an inspection of the first pair
of variables could show those that were not of interest and could be discarded. This
process could be repeated and variables that were of interest would be retained and
further coupled with other variables of interest, until only associations of interest
would remain for the user to study. Sterling reported developing a computer pro-
gram that applied criteria, or rules, to check each set of combinations of variables,
and to eliminate those not to be retained. Depending on the outcome of each check,
the machine then repeated the selection process with revised rules, until all uninter-
esting variables were eliminated. However, even by this elimination process, too
many results were still provided for human study. They refined their robot data
screening program to more closely simulate an investigator pursuing a number of
hypotheses by examining the screened data, and rejecting some variables and
accepting others. For a specific field of clinical knowledge, for example cardiology,
they developed an algorithm that, when given a set of antecedent conditions, they
could expect a certain set of probable consequences to follow; associations located
by this screening program could then be scrutinized for the most useful
information.
In the 1960s some commercial search and query programs for large databases
became available, led by Online Analytic Processing. These systems used relational
databases and provided answers to analytic queries that were multi-dimensional
708 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
devices meant that it was possible to store very large datasets. However, since tradi-
tional methods for querying databases to search for desired information were still
slow and expensive, a need developed for a new generation of techniques to more
efficiently search through voluminous collections of data. The concept of robot data
screening was then expanded to automated data mining.
Data mining was a concept introduced in the 1990s for finding data correlations
or patterns in very large databases (today sometimes called “big data”) or in collec-
tions of multiple large databases called data warehouses. Algorithms for data min-
ing were developed initially for management applications, such as for planning
stock keeping units for large grocery retailers where huge numbers of food items
would move through scanners each day. Algorithms used rules to guide decisions
and actions for a final solution, or for an intermediate action, or for the next observa-
tion to make. Algorithms could be deterministic or probabilistic in nature.
Most early data mining algorithms were based on Bayes’ essay [17] on probabil-
ity theory published in 1763, in which he proposed that the probability of the occur-
rence of an event could be expressed as the ratio between the current actual rate of
occurrence of the specific event of interest and the total rate of all possible events of
interest occurring within a specified time interval. Ledley and Lusted [66] expli-
cated the application of Bayes’ formula for estimating the probability of a diagnosis
when given a set of symptoms or for estimating the likelihood of an adverse drug
event when a patient had received a specific drug. Data mining required highly effi-
cient and scalable algorithms with which to process (‘mine’) the ever-increasing
sizes of clinical databases. These large databases typically held millions of data
items, as opposed to the thousands of data items usually studied by classical statisti-
cal data analysis techniques. This necessitated the creation of extremely fast algo-
rithms that usually incorporated simple pruning strategies for deciding when whole
sections of the analysis data could be skipped as not likely to contain data that
would produce new useful results. A consequence of this approach was that it was
possible (given sufficient computing resources) to find all patterns in the data for
which the support exceeded a specified support threshold level. There were many
techniques used for data mining, including record linkage, outlier detection,
Bayesian approaches, decision tree classification, nearest neighbor methods, rule
induction, and data visualization. However, since traditional statistical methods
were generally not well suited to evaluating the probability of ‘true’ and ‘false’
relationships identified in huge volumes of clinical data, methods began to be devel-
oped to try to better establish the sensitivity (for detecting ‘true’ positive associa-
tions) and the specificity (for detecting ‘false’ positive or ‘true’ negative) of the
identified associations.
Data mining was defined by Prather and associates [98] at Duke University as the
search for relationships and global patterns that were hidden among vast amounts of
data. Prather and colleagues applied data-mining techniques to the database of their
computerized patient record system. They initiated a data mining project using their
Duke Perinatal Database for a knowledge discovery project to identify factors that
could contribute to improving the quality and cost effectiveness of perinatal care.
Multiple queries made in Structured Query Language (SQL) were run on their
710 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
perinatal database to create a 2-year data set sample containing 3,902 births. As
each variable was added to the data set, it was cleansed of erroneous values by iden-
tifying any problems, correcting errors, and eliminating duplicate values. Some
alphanumeric fields were converted to numerical variables in order to permit statis-
tical analysis. Factor analysis was conducted on the extracted dataset and several
variables were identified which could help categorize patients and lead to a better
understanding between clinical observations and patient outcomes.
Connolly and Begg [43] defined data mining as the process of extracting valid,
previously unknown information from large databases to support decision making,
and described four data mining techniques: (1) predictive modeling that involved
building a training data set with historical known characteristics, and then develop-
ing rules that are applied to a new data set to determine their accuracy and physical
performance; (2) database segmentation to develop clusters of records of similar
characteristics; (3) link analysis to discover associations between individual records;
and (4) deviation detection to identify outliers that express deviations from some
previously defined expectation or norm.
Hand [57] described data mining as a new discipline at the interface of statistics,
database technology, pattern recognition, and machine learning that is concerned
with the secondary analysis of large databases in order to find previously unsus-
pected relationships that could be of interest. Hand further described data mining as
the analysis of large observational datasets to find relationships between data ele-
ments, and to summarize the data in novel ways that were understandable and pro-
vided useful information. In a medical context, data mining was often used for the
discovery of new relationships between clinical events; and for the surveillance or
monitoring of adverse events. Often the data had been collected for some primary
purpose other than for data mining analysis. Unlike hypothesis-driven data analyses
in which data are analyzed to prove or disprove a specific hypothesis (for example,
the hypothesis that there was an increased incidence in gastrointestinal bleeding
among users of non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs), data mining made no (or
few) prior assumptions about the data to be analyzed. It therefore has the potential
to discover previously unknown relationships or patterns among the data. It would
not assess causality in relationships between variables, but would only identify
associations in which certain sets of values occurred with greater frequency than
would be expected if they were independent. To prove causality in an association,
further studies (for example, a randomized controlled clinical trial) would be neces-
sary to confirm or refute that hypothesis. The relationships and summaries derived
with data mining have been also referred to as ‘models’ or ‘patterns’. Examples of
such patterns could include linear equations, rules, clusters, graphs, tree structures,
and recurrent patterns in a time series.
Hand also noted that since data mining was a relatively new field, it had devel-
oped some new terminology. An important difference between data mining and
statistics was the emphasis of the former on algorithms; and the association of data
mining with the analysis of large datasets was a key differentiating factor between
data mining and classical exploratory data analysis as traditionally pursued by stat-
isticians. The presence of large datasets could give rise to new problems, such as
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 711
how to analyze the data in a reasonable amount of time, how to decide whether a
discovered relationship was purely a chance finding or not, how to select representa-
tive samples of the data, or how to generalize the models found for sample datasets
to the whole dataset. Seeking relationships within a dataset involved determining
the nature and the structure of the representation (model) to be used; then deciding
how to quantify and compare how well different representations (models) fitted the
data; choosing an algorithmic process to optimize the ‘score function’; and deciding
what principles of data management were required to implement this process effi-
ciently. Data mining approaches involve (1) model building, i.e., describing the
overall shape of the data, and included regression models and Bayesian networks;
and (2) pattern discovery, i.e., describing data as a local structure embedded in a
mass of data, such as when detecting signals of adverse drug events, and then having
experts in the field of knowledge decide what data was interesting.
Knowledge discovery was defined by Frawley and associates [55] at GTE
Laboratories in Waltham, Massachusetts, as the non-trivial extraction of previously
unknown and potentially useful information and patterns from large databases.
They defined a pattern as a statement that described with some degree of certainty
the relationships among a subset of the data. They defined knowledge as a pattern
that was interesting to the user; and when the output of a computer program that
monitored a database produced a new pattern, such output could be considered to be
discovered knowledge. For such discovered knowledge they advised that the user
needed to consider: (1) its certainty, since that depended upon the integrity and size
of the data sample; (2) its accuracy, since seldom was a piece of discovered knowl-
edge true across all of the data; (3) its interest to the user, especially when the dis-
covered knowledge was novel, useful, and non-trivial to compute; and (4) its
efficiency, in that the running time on a computer should be acceptable. They further
advised that efficient discovery algorithms needed to be designed to extract knowl-
edge from data by identifying interesting patterns representing a collection of data
that shared some common interest, and describing the patterns in a meaningful
manner.
Berman and associates [20] at Yale University School of Medicine also addressed
the difficulty in maintaining and updating knowledge bases over the long-term.
They explored the utility of interfacing their knowledge database with information
stored in external databases in order to augment their system’s information retrieval
capabilities. To support their expert system for the clinical management of a dis-
ease, for example, asthma, they developed a knowledge database that integrated
biomedical information relevant to asthma, and used their knowledge base to answer
clinical questions and to guide relevant external database queries. When a clinician
initiated a request for the name of a suspected occupational compound causing
asthma, the system first looked for this substance in their internal knowledge base
of agents known to cause asthma. If a match was not found, their system then auto-
matically accessed databases at the National Library of Medicine (NLM), such as
TOXLINE, to find a match for a possible causative agent. If a match was found, the
system then looked in its knowledge database to see if any related substances could
be found there. If at any point in the process a match was found then the results were
712 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
presented to the user. The user was then offered the option of directing further que-
ries to the NLM databases.
Agrawal and associates [1–3] at IBM’s Almaden Research Center developed
what they called the Quest Data Mining System. They took the approach that
depending on the overall objective of the data analysis and the requirements of the
data owner, the data mining tasks could be divided into: (1) exploratory data analy-
sis, that typically used techniques that were interactive and visual, and might employ
graphical display methods; (2) descriptive modeling, that described all the data by
overall probability distributions, cluster analysis, and by models describing the rela-
tionship between variables; (3) predictive modeling, that permitted the value of one
variable to be predicted from the known values of other variables; and (4) discover-
ing patterns and association rules of combinations of items that occurred frequently.
Agrawal further identified a variety of relationships that could be identified by data
mining, including: associations, which were relationships in which two or more
data elements (or events) were found to frequently occur together in the database.
The data elements (or events) were usually referred to individually as items and col-
lectively as item-sets; and the number of times an item or item-set occurred in a
defined population was known as its support. Data mining methods found all fre-
quent item-sets; that is, all associations among items whose support exceeded a
minimum threshold value that exceeded what would be expected by chance alone.
Rules were similar to associations, except that once identified, each frequent item-
set was partitioned into antecedents and consequents; and the likelihood that the
consequents occurred, given that the antecedents had occurred, was calculated, and
this value was known as the confidence of the rule. Given a dataset, classical data
mining methods were able to find all rules whose support and confidence exceeded
specified threshold values. Yet discovering rules with high confidence did not nec-
essarily imply causality. Sequential patterns were relationships for which the order
of occurrence of events was an important factor in determining a relationship. A
frequent sequential pattern was a group of item-sets that frequently occurred in a
specific order. Clusters were data elements or events that were grouped according to
logical relationships; for example, a cluster of influenza cases might be found dur-
ing certain seasons of the year.
Bohren and associates [29] at the University of North Carolina at Charleston
used a general classification system called INC2.5 that was capable of uncovering
patterns of relationships among clinical records in a database. They described their
system as an algorithm working in an incremental manner by incorporating new
data, one patient at a time. The system was based on concept formation, a machine-
learning method for identifying a diagnosis from patients’ descriptions. Patients
with common symptoms were grouped together and were represented by a descrip-
tion formed by a patient-symptom cluster that summarized their medical condition.
INC2.5 used a similarity-based, patient evaluation function that optimized patient
outcomes with respect to previously seen patients with the most similar group of
symptoms, and it would provide for the physician a list of information possibly
relevant to the diagnosis in question. They tested INC2.5 on datasets for patients
with breast cancer, general trauma, and low back pain. Testing involved an initial
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 713
Evans and associates [48, 49] at Creighton University used data mining methods
for the automatic detection of hereditary syndromes. They reported that they could
apply algorithms to family history data and create highly accurate, clinically ori-
ented, hereditary disease pattern recognizers.
Wilcox and Hripcsak [124] at Columbia University also considered data mining
to be a form of knowledge discovery. Their objective was to automatically build
queries for interpreting data from natural language processing of narrative text,
since valuable clinical information could reside in clinical progress notes, in radiol-
ogy and other procedure reports, in discharge summaries, and in other documents.
They developed a system to generate rules for the output of a natural language pro-
cessor called Medical Language Extraction and Encoding System (MedLEE) that
automatically generated coded findings from any narrative report entered into it.
Berndt and associates [21] at the University of South Florida described their system
for comprehensive tracking for community health (CATCH), and evaluating trends
in health care issues. Nigrin [95] and associates at Boston’s Children Hospital
developed the Data Extractor (DXtractor) system that allowed clinicians to enter a
query for a defined population or patient group, explore and retrieve desired indi-
vidual patient data, find previously seen patients with similarities to the current
patient, and generate a list of patients with common attributes. Based on their work
with DXtractor, Nigrin described in some detail the development of a new data min-
ing tool called Goldminer that allowed non-programming clinicians, researchers,
and administrators to more effectively mine both clinical and administrative data in
a large database. From primary patient record databases, they developed a separate
clinical research database to run Goldminer. The data were maintained in an
Oracle-8 database kept updated by routinely running Structured Query Language
(SQL) scripts that copied new or modified data from their patient record databases.
A web-based Java applet, Goldminer performed a population survey and guided the
user through a variety of parameter specifications to retrieve a particular group of
patients. Then, using logical Boolean set operations (AND, OR, and NOT), as well
as temporal set operators to combine data sets, it provided the ability to generate
complex overall queries, despite relatively simple individual data requests.
Johnson [64] described an extension to SQL that enabled the data analyst to
designate groups of rows, and then manipulate and aggregate these groups in vari-
ous ways to solve a number of analytic problems, such as performing aggregations
on large amounts of data as when doing clinical data mining. Tenabe and associates
[117] at the National Cancer Institute described an Internet-based hypertext pro-
gram, called MedMiner, which filtered and organized large amounts of textual and
structured information extracted from very large databases, such as NLM’s PubMed.
Benoit [19], at the University of Kentucky, described an information retrieval frame-
work, based on mathematical principles, designed to organize and permit end-user
manipulation of a retrieved set of data. By adjusting the weights and types of rela-
tionships between query and set members, it was possible to expose unanticipated,
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 715
Through its many public resources and services, the National Library of Medicine
supports scientific discovery, clinical research, health care delivery, public health,
and education, for professionals and for the general public. One of the 27 Institutes
and Centers at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in Bethesda, Maryland, NLM
celebrated its 175th anniversary in 2011. A compendium of NLM’s milestones
throughout its history, as well as annual reports dating back as early as the 1940s,
are available on the NLM web site at http://apps.nlm.nih.gov/175/milestones.cfm
and http://www.nlm.nih.gov/pubs/reports.html. An early history of the NLM was
written by Miles [90], and a recent history of NLM by Collen [40].
NLM creates and maintains a large number of scientific databases, including
MEDLINE, the online bibliographic database that grew out of the MEDLARS sys-
tem which originated in 1964. MEDLINE contains more than 23 million citations
to journal articles in the life sciences covering publications from 1946 to the pres-
ent. Thousands of citations are added each day, with a reported 700,000 citations
posted in 2013 alone. The PubMed search interface provides free access to
MEDLINE as well as links to PubMed Central, NLM’s full text archive of publicly
available articles.
NLM produces several hundred electronic information resources on a wide range
of topics that are searched billions of times each year by millions of people around
the globe. Notable resources include a broad range of human genome resources,
including GenBank, Entrez Gene, GEO, and dbGaP; a large number of toxicology
and environmental databases, including TOXNET, an integrated database system of
hazardous chemicals, toxic releases and environmental health; and resources
designed primarily for the general public, including the flagship MedlinePlus and
ClinicalTrials.gov, a database of information about clinical trials being conducted
around the world.
NLM also supports and conducts research, development, and training in bio-
medical informatics and health information technology.
The computer-aided systems for utilization review and quality assurance of the
1970s were superseded in the 1980s by more robust medical information, or medi-
cal knowledge, databases. These databases provided information about specific
medical problems and were primarily designed to help clinicians make appropriate
decisions in the diagnosis and treatment of their patients. Rapid advances in com-
puter storage capabilities as well as greater processing capabilities during this era
meant that medical knowledge bases could be commonly used to support clinical
decision making. At the same time, it became clear that computer-based medical
information systems needed programs that allowed direct order entry for tests and
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 717
procedures together with the return of the results of those tests and procedures as
well as alerts and warnings for actual or potential adverse clinical events. This was
followed by the further incorporation of clinical decision support, advice and clini-
cal practice guidelines in medical information systems.
In the 1990s the process of data mining applied to very large clinical databases
became possible as computer storage became cheaper and computational process-
ing became faster. Using techniques from statistics and information science, data
mining has the potential to discover new information and uncover previously
unknown important relationships and associations between clinical data elements.
A major problem encountered in any field, and this is certainly true for biomedi-
cine, is keeping knowledge bases up-to-date. In the domain of biomedicine only the
National Library of Medicine has the resources to satisfy this essential requirement.
Through its many public resources and services, NLM has consistently played and
continues to play a vital role in supporting scientific discovery, clinical research,
and health care delivery.
References
1. Agrawal R, Srikant R. Fast algorithms for mining association rules. Proc 20th Int Conf Very
Large Data Bases (VLDB). 1994;1215:487–99.
2. Agrawal R, Imielinski T, Swami A. Database mining: a performance perspective. IEEE Trans
Knowl Data Eng. 1993;5:914–25.
3. Agrawal R, Mehta M, Shafer JC, Srikant R, Arning A, Bollinger T. The Quest data mining
system. Proc Int Conf Data Min Knowl Disc. 1996;96:244–9.
4. Ahlers P, Sullivan RJ, Hammond WE. The cost of auditing outpatient records. South Med
J. 1976;69:1328–32.
5. AMA News. Medicine by the book. Am Med Assoc News. 1989;32:1.
6. Anderson JG, Jay SJ, Perry J, Anderson MM. Diffusion of computer applications among
physicians. In: Salamon R, Protti D, Moehr J, editors. Proceedings of international sympo-
sium medicine information and education. Victoria: University of Victoria; 1989.
p. 339–42.
7. Ball MJ. An overview of total medical information systems. Methods Inf Med.
1971;10:73–82.
8. Ball MJ, Hammon GL. Maybe a network of mini-computers can fill your data systems needs.
Hosp Financ Manage. 1975;29:48.
9. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE, Colavecchio FR, Potters JR. HIS: a status report. Hospitals JAHA.
1972;46:48–52.
10. Ball MJ. Computers: prescription for hospital ills. Datamation. 1975;21:50–1.
11. Ball MJ. Fifteen hospital information systems available. In: Ball MJ, editor. How to select a
computerized hospital information system. New York: S. Karger; 1973. p. 10–27.
12. Ball MJ, Hannah KJ, Browne JD. Using computers in nursing. Reston: Reston Pub. Co;
1984.
13. Barnett GO. Computers in patient care. N Engl J Med. 1968;279:1321–7.
14. Barnett GO, Winickoff R, Dorsey JL, Morgan MM, Lurie RS. Quality assurance through
automated monitoring and concurrent feedback using a computer-based medical information
system. Med Care. 1978;16:962–70.
15. Barnett GO. Quality assurance through computer surveillance and feedback. Am J Public
Health. 1977;67:230–1.
718 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
16. Barnett GO. The modular hospital information system. In: Stacy RW, Waxman BD, editors.
Computers in biomedical research. New York: Academic; 1974. p. 243–85.
17. Bayes T. An essay toward solving a problem in the doctrine of chances. Philos Trans R Soc
Lond. 1763;53:370–418.
18. Beggs S, Vallbona C, Spencer WA, Jacobs FM, Baker RL. Evaluation of a system for on-line
computer scheduling of patient care activities. Comput Biomed Res. 1971;4:634–54.
19. Benoit G, Andrews JE. Data discretization for novel resource discovery in large medical data
sets. Proc AMIA. 2000; 61–5.
20. Berman L, Cullen M, Miller PL. Automated integration of external databases: a knowledge-
based approach to enhancing rule-based expert systems. Comput Biomed Res.
1993;26:230–41.
21. Berndt DJ, Hevner AR, Studnicki J. CATCH/IT: a data warehouse to support comprehensive
assessment for tracking community health. Proc AMIA. 1998; 250–4.
22. Black GC, Saveanu TI. A search for mental health output measures. Proc SCAMC.
1980;3:1859–71.
23. Blum BI. A data model for patient management. Proc MEDINFO. 1983;83:748–51.
24. Blum RL. Automated induction of casual relationships from a time-oriented clinical data-
base. Proc AMIA. 1982; 307–11.
25. Blum RL. Discovery and representation of casual relationships from a large time-oriented
clinical database: the RX project. In: Lindberg DA, Reichertz P, editors. Lecture notes in
medical informatics. New York: Springer; 1982. p. 38–57.
26. Blum RL. Automating the study of clinical hypotheses on a time-oriented clinical database:
the Rx project. Proc MEDINFO. 1980; 456–60.
27. Blum RL, Wiederhold G. Inferring knowledge from clinical data banks: utilizing techniques
from artificial intelligence. Proc SCAMC. 1978; 303–7.
28. Blumberg MS. Requirements for a computer system to process physician orders in hospital.
Digest of the 1961 Intern Conf Med Electronics. 1961; 32.
29. Bohren BF, Hadzikadic M, Hanley EN. Extracting knowledge from large medical databases:
an automated approach. Comput Biomed Res. 1995;28:191–210.
30. Brewster C. Concurrent quality assurance using a medical information system. Top Health
Rec Manage. 1982;3:38–47.
31. Brossette SE, Sprague AP, Jones WT, Moser SA. A data mining system for infection control
surveillance. Methods Inf Med. 2000;39:303–10.
32. Buchanan BG, Shortliffe EH. Rule based expert systems: the MYCIN experiments of the
Stanford Heuristic programming project. Reading: Addison-Wesley; 1984.
33. Buchanan BG, Feigenbaum EA. DENDRAL and Meta-DENDRAL: their applications
dimension. Artif Intell. 1978;11:5–24.
34. Buck Jr CR, Reese GR, Lindberg DA. A general technique for computer processing of coded
patient diagnoses. Mo Med. 1966;63:276–9. passim.
35. Budkin A, Jacobs WA, Smith CD, Daily JD, Button JH, Berman RL. An automated PSRO-
utilization review system. J Med Syst. 1982;6:139–47.
36. Cannon SR, Gardner RM. Experience with a computerized interactive protocol system using
HELP. Comput Biomed Res. 1980;13:399–409.
37. Christofferson J, Moynihan CT. Can systems measure quality? Comput Healthc. 1988
(April); 24–7.
38. Codd EF. A relational model of data for large shared data banks. Commun ACM.
1970;13:377–87.
39. Codd EF, Codd SB, Salley CT. Providing OLAP (on-line analytical processing) to user-
analysts: an IT mandate. San Jose: Codd Inc.; 1993.
40. Collen MF. Specialized medical databases. In: Collen MF, editor. Computer medical data-
bases. London: Springer; 2012. p. 53–69.
41. Collen MF. Patient data acquisition. Med Instrum. 1977;12:222–5.
42. Collen MF, Rubin L, Neyman J, Dantzig GB, Baer RM, Siegelaub AB. Automated multipha-
sic screening and diagnosis. Am J Public Health Nations Health. 1964;54:741–50.
17 Decision Support Systems (DSS) 719
43. Connolly TM, Begg CE. Database management systems: a practical approach to design.
New York: Addison-Wesley; 1999.
44. Davis RM. Evolution of computers and computing. Science. 1977;195:1096–102.
45. Doszkocs TE. CITE NLM: natural-language searching in an online catalog. Inf Technol Libr.
1983;2:365–80.
46. Downs SM, Wallace MY. Mining association rules from a pediatric primary care decision
support system. Proc AMIA. 2000; 200–4.
47. Drazen EL. Utilization review in medical care: opportunities for computer support. In:
Towards new hospital information systems. Amsterdam: North Holland; 1988. p. 14–7.
48. Evans S, Lemon SJ, Deters CA, Fusaro RM, Lynch HT. Automated detection of hereditary
syndromes using data mining. Comput Biomed Res. 1997;30:337–48.
49. Evans S, Lemon SJ, Deters C, Fusaro RM, Durham C, Snyder C et al. Using data mining to
characterize DNA mutations by patient clinical features. Proc AMIA. 1997; 253–7.
50. Fayyad U, Piatetsky-Shapiro G, Smyth P. From data mining to knowledge discovery in data-
bases. AI Mag. 1996;17:37–54.
51. Fetter RB. Information systems requirements for case mix management by DRG. In: Towards
new hospital information systems. Amsterdam: North Holland. 1988; 161–7.
52. Finseth K, Brunjes S. Quality of care and an automated medical record: blood pressure and
hypertension. In: Hinman EJ, editor. Advanced medical systems: the 3rd century. Miami:
Symposia Specialists; 1977. p. 161–7.
53. Forrest WH. Assessment of quality review in health care systems: the hospital. In: Hinman
EJ, editor. Miami. Advanced medical systems: an assessment of the contributions. Miami:
Symposia Specialists; 1979. p. 21–9.
54. Fox MA. Linguistic implications of context dependency in ACIS. Proc MEDINFO. 1980;
1285–9.
55. Frawley WJ, Piatetsky-Shapiro G, Matheus CJ. Knowledge discovery in databases: an over-
view. AI Mag. 1992;13:57.
56. Gabrieli ER. Computer-assisted assessment of patient care in the hospital. J Med Syst.
1988;12:135–46.
57. Hand DJ. Data mining: statistics and more? Am Stat. 1998;52:112–8.
58. Haug PJ, Gardner RM, Tate KE, Evans RS, East TD, Kuperman G, et al. Decision support in
medicine: examples from the HELP system. Comput Biomed Res. 1994;27:396–418.
59. Haughton D, Deichmann J, Eshghi A, Sayek S, Teebagy N, Topi H. A review of software
packages for data mining. Am Stat. 2003;57:290–309.
60. Holmes JH, Durbin DR, Winston FK. Discovery of predictive models in an injury surveil-
lance database: an application of data mining in clinical research. Proc AMIA. 2000;
359–63.
61. Hripcsak G, Clayton PD, Jenders RA. Design of a clinical event monitor. Comput Biomed
Res. 1996;29:194–221.
62. JACHO. Agenda for change: characteristics of clinical indicators. QRB. 1989;15:330–9.
63. Johnson D, Ranzenberger J, Pryor TA. Nursing applications of the HELP system. Proc
SCAMC. 1984; 703–8.
64. Johnson SB, Chatziantoniou D. Extended SQL for manipulating clinical warehouse data.
Proc AMIA. 1999; 819–23.
65. Kahn MG, Fagan LM, Shortliffe EH. Context-specific interpretation of patient records for a
therapy advice system. Proc MEDINFO. 1986;86:26–30.
66. Ledley RS, Lusted LB. The use of electronic computers in medical data processing: aids in
diagnosis, current information retrieval, and medical record keeping. IRE Trans Med
Electron. 1960;ME–7:31–47.
67. Lee S-L. Data mining techniques applied to medical information. Inform Health Soc Care.
2000;25:81–102.
68. Lindberg D. The computer and medical care. Springfield: CC Thomas; 1968.
69. Lindberg D. Electronic retrieval of clinical data. J Med Educ. 1965;40:753–9.
720 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
97. Phillips DF. Regulations and data systems: questions of demands versus needs. Hospitals.
1977;51:85.
98. Prather JC, Lobach DF, Goodwin LK, Hales JW, Hage ML, Hammond WE. Medical data
mining: knowledge discovery in a clinical data warehouse. Proc AMIA. 1997; 101–5.
99. Prokosch HU, Pryor TA. Intelligent data acquisition in order entry programs. Proc SCAMC.
1988; 454–8.
100. Pryor DB, Stead WW, Hammond WE, Califf RM, Rosati RA. Features of TMR for a success-
ful clinical and research database. Proc SCAMC. 1982; 79–83.
101. Pryor DB, Califf RM, Harrell FE, Hlatky MA, Lee KL, Mark DB, et al. Clinical data bases:
accomplishments and unrealized potential. Med Care. 1985;23:623–47.
102. Rind DM, Davis R, Safran C. Designing studies of computer-based alerts and reminders. MD
Comput. 1995;12:122.
103. Rubin AD, Risley JF. The PROPHET system: an experiment in providing a computer resource
to scientists. Proc MEDINFO. 1977; 77–81.
104. Rubin L, Collen M, Goldman GE. Frequency decision theoretical approach to automated
medical diagnosis. Proceedings of the 5th Berkeley Symp on mathematical statistics and
probability. San Francisco: University of California Press; 1967.
105. Sanazaro PJ, Goldstein RL, Roberts JS, Maglott DB, McAllister JW. Research and develop-
ment in quality assurance: the experimental medical care review organization program. N
Engl J Med. 1972;287:1125.
106. Shortliffe EH. Update on ONCOCIN: a chemotherapy advisor for clinical oncology. Inf
Health Soc Care. 1986;11:19–21.
107. Shortliffe EH, Scott AC, Bischoff MB, Campbell AB, Van Melle W, Jacobs CD. An expert
system for oncology protocol management. In: Rule based expert systems: the MYCIN
experiments of the Stanford heuristic programming project. Proc Internal Joint Conf on
Artificial Intelligence. 1984; 653–65.
108. Shortliffe EH. A rule-based approach to the generation of advice and explanations in clinical
medicine. In: Schneider W, Sagvall-Hein AL, editors. Computational linguistics in medicine.
Amsterdam: North-Holland; 1977. p. 101–8.
109. Shortliffe EH, Scott AC, Bischoff MB. ONCOCIN: an expert system for oncology protocol
management. In: Proceedings of 7th international joint conference on artificial intelligence.
1981; 876–81.
110. Slee VN. PSRO and the hospital’s quality control. Ann Intern Med. 1974;81:97–106.
111. Slee VN. Automation in the management of hospital records. Circ Res. 1962;11:637–45.
112. Smith LH. Computerized medical record systems. Proc of a forum: medical record systems,
an examination of case studies 1977. Chicago: AHA; 1–11.
113. Spencer WA, Baker RL, Moffet CL. Hospital computer systems: a review of usage and future
requirements after a decade of overpromise and underachievement. Adv Biomed Eng.
1972;2:61–138.
114. Srinivasan P, Rindflesch T. Exploring text mining from MEDLINE. Proc AMIA. 2002;
722–6.
115. Sterling T, Pollack S, Gleser M, Haberman S. Robot data screening: a solution to multivariate
type problems in the biological and social sciences. Commun ACM. 1966;9:529–32.
116. Szarfman A, Machado SG, O’neill RT. Use of screening algorithms and computer systems to
efficiently signal higher-than-expected combinations of drugs and events in the US FDA’s
spontaneous reports database. Drug Saf. 2002;25:381–92.
117. Tanabe L, Scherf U, Smith LH, Lee JK, Hunter L, Weinstein JN. MedMiner: an internet text-
mining tool for biomedical information, with application to gene expression profiling.
Biotechniques. 1999;27:1210–4.
118. Thomas JC, Moore A, Qualls PE. The effect on cost of medical care for patients treated with
an automated clinical audit system. J Med Syst. 1983;7:307–13.
119. Tierney WM, Hui SL, McDonald CJ. Delayed feedback of physician performance versus
immediate reminders to perform preventive care: effects on physician compliance. Med Care.
1986;24:659–66.
722 M.F. Collen and A.T. McCray
120. Tierney WM, McDonald CJ, Martin DK, Hui SL. Computerized display of past test results:
effect on outpatient testing. Ann Intern Med. 1987;107:569–74.
121. Tufo HM, Bouchard RE, Rubin AS, Twitchell JC, VanBuren HC, Weed LB, et al. Problem-
oriented approach to practice: I. Economic impact. JAMA. 1977;238:414–7.
122. US Congress. Detection and prevention of chronic disease utilizing multiphasic health
screening techniques. Hearings before the subcommittee on health of the elderly of the spe-
cial committee on aging. Washington, DC: US Congress, 1966.
123. Warner HR. A mathematical approach to medical diagnoses: applications to congenital heart
disease. JAMA. 1961;177:177–83.
124. Wilcox A, Hripcsak G. Knowledge discovery and data mining to assist natural language
understanding. Proc AMIA. 1998; 835–9.
125. Wilkinson WE, Gehlbach SH, Hammond WE, Clapp NE. Using computer-generated feed-
back to improve physician prescribing. Proc SCAMC. 1982; 76–8.
126. Wolfe H. A computerized screening device for selecting cases for utilization review. Med
Care. 1967;5:44–51.
127. Wraith SM, Aikins JS, Buchanan BG, Clancey WJ, Davis R, Fagan LM, et al. Computerized
consultation system for selection of antimicrobial therapy. Am J Health Sys Pharm.
1976;33:1304–8.
Part IV
Epilogue
Chapter 18
Medical Informatics: Past and Future
Abstract Led in its earliest decades by a few pioneers and supported by a small
number of professional organizations and universities, medical informatics was
funded primarily by federal grants and contracts until 1980, when industry began to
enter the marketplace. Despite technology advances, diffusion across health care
was slow, and computers were used predominately for business functions. In the
1980s specialized subsystems were developed for the clinical laboratory, radiology,
and pharmacy, but by 1989 only a few medical information systems were opera-
tional, most of them in academic health centers that had received federal funding. In
the 1990s, distributed information systems allowed physicians to enter orders and
retrieve test results using clinical workstations; and hospital networks integrated
data from all the distributed clinical specialty databases in an electronic patient
record. By the end of 1990s, systems were up and running in the Department of
Defense and Veterans Administration. In the 2000s, more clinicians in the United
States were using electronic health records, due in part to steps taken to adjust the
computer to its professional users. Diffusion was further advanced in 2010, when
direct federal funding was extended to health care providers using systems that met
“Meaningful Use” requirements in caring for Medicare and Medicaid patients.
Advances expected in the next decade include precision medicine and patient geno-
typing; telehealth care; cloud computing; support for elder care with multiple
chronic diseases and polypharmacy; advanced clinical decision support; patient
data security; big data analytics, improved population health, public health, and
disaster management; and interoperability and integration of care across venues.
Health care has been much slower to adopt the computer than it was to adopt two
other important technologies – the telephone and the automobile. In 1876 Bell pat-
ented the telephone as a device for electronic speech transmission. While Hollerith
was working on punched cards for the 1880 census, at that time Bell was beginning
to market the telephone. According to Starr [31], in the late 1870s physicians were
among the first to use telephone exchanges to connect their offices with local phar-
macies, and to communicate with patients who were requesting house calls.
The great automobile race was held in 1895 from Paris to Bordeaux and back. In
1908 Ford put out his first Model T automobile. In the early 1900s, the Journal of
the American Medical Association reported that automobiles were already generally
accepted by the medical profession as its usual mode of travel; and that they enabled
doctors to considerably decrease the time required for making house calls; and in
addition that they made it easier for patients to visit physicians in their offices [17].
A Chicago dentist is reported to have purchased in 1927 the first Model A Ford on
the market [18].
Starr [31] credited the telephone and the automobile with the greatest early
improvements in the productivity of the medical practitioner. Clearly the automo-
bile and the telephone quickly and dramatically affected the way the medical pro-
fession provided patient care. The automobile was much more efficient than the
horse in transporting the busy physician to his home, office and hospital. The tele-
phone was more efficient than was the postal mail in getting urgent messages to and
from the physician.
Billings could not have foreseen the long-term consequences from his advice to
engineer Hollerith to use punched cards to machine process the 1890 United States
census data. The resulting invention of electronic data processing was probably the
most important innovation of the twentieth century. In 1946 the first electronic digi-
tal computer built in the United States was called the ENIAC (Electronic Numerical
Integrator and Calculator). In 1951 the UNIVAC, the first commercial computer
with thermionic vacuum tubes became available. It was replaced in 1959 by the
International Business Machines (IBM) 7090 computer that used transistors. In the
1940s computer programming began with von Neumann’s invention of the stored
computer program. These early innovations were quickly followed by many genera-
tions of specialized computer programming languages, together with advances in
computer hardware, networking, data storage, and other devices, and in the software
and hardware engineering disciplines to support them.
While computing quickly revolutionized many industries and fields, its advance
in health care was much slower. Physicians have always used the physical and
chemical sciences to gather information from patients regarding abnormalities in
anatomical structure and in physiological function. Examples of medical physics
that have used the sciences of mechanics and hydraulics are the mercury sphygmo-
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 727
manometer, aerodynamics for the spirometer, acoustics for the stethoscope, heat for
the thermometer, and optics for the microscope and ophthalmoscope. Biochemistry
was the basis for clinical laboratory analyses of a patient’s blood and urine.
Roentgenography exploited the absorption of x-rays by body tissues to study varia-
tions in anatomical structures. Nuclear medicine used radioisotopes to identify
variations in physiology. Medical electronic analog devices recorded electrical sig-
nals from the heart (electrocardiography), from the brain (electroencephalography),
and from the muscles (electromyography). Medical electronic digital devices mea-
sured pulse rates and body temperature. Enhanced digital imaging using three-
dimensional reconstruction in computerized tomography (CT), magnetic resonance
imaging (MRI), ultrasound imaging, and other modalities, is based on measure-
ments of x-ray absorption of tissues, changes in tissue hydrogen molecule nuclear
spin and orientation when deflected by a magnetic field, or other physical
properties.
The 1950s through the 1980s were remarkable for medicine in the United States,
not only because of the rapid diffusion of technological innovations, but because of
the important changes in legislation and in the financing of health care. The coun-
try’s economy continued to be strong as the Dow Jones industrial average climbed
from 500 in the 1950s and, except for a recession in the 1970s, to the 2,000s in the
1980s. Health became a major potential political issue when, in 1953, Hobby
became the first Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare (HEW). In the 1950s,
about one-half of the U.S. population was covered by some sort of voluntary health
insurance. President Johnson signed the Medicare Act in 1965; as a result, Medicare
and Medicaid extended health care to the elderly and the indigent. By the end of the
1980s, most people had some type of health insurance. Under this type of arrange-
ment, third-party payers and health insurers helped to finance medical technology.
In the 1950s, national expenditures for health care were about 3 % of the national
gross product, or about $100 per-person per-year. In the 1960s, these expenditures
were about 5 %, or $150; by 1987 health care expenditures had risen to 11 %, or
almost $2,000 per-person per-year. Within this environment, the evolution and the
diffusion of computers into medicine were sporadic.
Based on the continuing technological advances, and stimulated by increasing
needs for managing the processes of health care, a new domain of knowledge and
professional expertise has taken shape over the past six decades, known as medical
informatics [14, 28]. In a sense this field was enabled by six trends:
• increased volumes and types of data that were independent of either the physi-
cian’s or the patient’s judgments
• the more solid basis resulting from this for the claim to objective decisions
• increased physicians’ dependence on technology
• increasing variety of physician specialists needed to conduct and interpret the
results of particular procedures such as radiographs, electrocardiograms, and
other technology-based interventions
• a growing emphasis on need to monitor the quality of patient care
• recognition by health professionals of the need for formal organizations and col-
lective care by cooperating groups and corporate re-orientation.
728 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
The first six decades of medical informatics were ones of high expectations and
frequent disappointments. Medical informatics evolved as health care professionals
learned to exploit the computer to help meet the immense and complex information
needs of patient care. Led in its earliest decades by a few pioneers and supported by
a relatively small number of professional organizations and universities, this new
field was funded primarily by federal grants and contracts. Pressured by increas-
ingly complex and expensive patient care, medical informatics gradually diffused
throughout the United States and the world. Blum et al. [5] categorized the 1950s as
“phase zero,” when most computer biomedical applications began to process text
and some images and signals. Blum also called the 1960s “phase one,” when com-
puters began to provide some direct applications to patient care; and he considered
the 1970s “phase two,” when medical informatics began to mature with more appli-
cations for clinical information systems and clinical decision support.
The personal computer moved rapidly into doctors’ offices in the 1980s, but even
by the end of the decade, it was not yet a day-to-day tool of physicians. It did not
significantly affect patient care services or alter visibly the quality or the costs of
medical care. Given the recognized need at that time to finance increasingly expen-
sive medical care, one would hope that the potential of the computer to increase the
performance of health care professionals and to increase the quality of medical care,
yet to decrease the costs of care, would stimulate a more rapid diffusion of medical
informatics for patient care. However, this rapid diffusion did not occur until the
beginning of the next century.
Despite the slow initial diffusion of medical informatics for its first four decades,
noteworthy accomplishments in each decade were the relatively rapid advances of
computer hardware, software, data communications, and their applications to medi-
cine; greatly increased computer memory, data storage, and data processing speed;
and significantly decreased costs. The field evolved from expensive slow mainframe
computers in the 1960s, to minicomputers with integrated circuits in the 1970s, to
microcomputers and personal computers communicating by using local area net-
works in the 1980s, to networked clinical workstations using the Internet and the
World Wide Web for global communications in the 1990s, and on to mobile smart-
phones and electronic tablets, smart sensors and wearables and ubiquitous comput-
ing and social networking in the 2000s. The development of the electronic health
record (EHR) was a gradual process, evolving in capability from the 1960s to the
present, with the diffusion of EHR systems in hospitals and medical offices acceler-
ating in the 2000s, with expanding cloud data services, translational informatics,
and telehealth in the 2010s.
In the 1950s, the earliest application of computers in the United States for health
care purposes was pioneered by Ledley [19] when he conducted research applica-
tions for dentistry while at the National Bureau of Standards. In the 1950s, large
mainframe, time-sharing computers were used for the earliest computer applica-
tions in medicine, when most data were entered into the computer by punched
cards, and the printed output was produced in batches. During the 1950s, the
medical community began to learn to use computers, and shared visions of their
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 729
remarkable potential for medicine; however, only a few biomedical pioneer investi-
gators actually had access to a computer.
In the 1960s, IBM introduced its 360-series of computers that used integrated
circuits on silicon chips; and that became the basis of modern commercial comput-
ing. A major competitor appeared in 1962 with the invention of the first minicom-
puter, a general-purpose Laboratory Instrumentation Computer (LINC) that evolved
into the Digital Equipment Computer (DEC) PDP series; these soon became the
most widely used computers for medical applications. Using a DEC PDP-7 mini-
computer initially (subsequently upgraded to later models), the Massachusetts
General Hospital Utility Multi-Programming System (MUMPS) [13] was reported
in 1969, and became commercially available shortly thereafter; it became the most
commonly used programming language for medical computing applications in the
United States – and is still widely used over 45 years later.
In the 1960s, lower-cost minicomputers were introduced and used for many
medical applications, especially where data could be collected directly from auto-
mated and semi-automated instruments, and then undergo some limited data pro-
cessing. The 1970s saw the advent of even cheaper and faster minicomputers and
microcomputers, following the fabrication of the central processing unit (CPU) on
a microprocessor chip by a group at Intel in 1969. In 1976 the Apple II computer
appeared on the market. The first computer to feature a graphical user interface
(GUI) was developed at the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center (PARC); and the GUI
became the basis for the Macintosh computer that was released by Apple in 1984.
The 1980s produced a rapid diffusion of personal computers (PCs) and the incorpo-
ration of microprocessors in a variety of medical applications, along with the expan-
sion of computer networks both locally and nationally. Any computer-based system
that had evolved for a clinical support information system (CSIS) usually became a
subsystem of a larger medical information system (MIS). In the 1990s computer
applications in many clinical support services were operational; some progress was
becoming apparent in the use of computers for patient care and for electronic medi-
cal records (EMRs) in hospitals and medical offices; and the Internet made com-
monplace international communications using computers.
In the 1960s, the US Congress authorized several streams of research support for
biomedical computer applications. The National Institutes of Health (NIH) was the
greatest contributor through its Division of Research Resources, with several
Institutes providing additional support for specialized applications; and the National
Library of Medicine (NLM) supporting training programs in medical informatics
beginning in the late 1970s. The Chronic Disease Division of the U.S. Public Health
Service supported computer applications for health testing services and preventive
medicine. The National Center for Health Services Research supported many dem-
onstration and evaluation projects. The Regional Medical Program supported some
computer projects with direct applications to patient care. In the Department of
Defense (DoD), the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) sup-
ported research, including the development of DoD’s multihospital information sys-
tems for the medical facilities of its three armed services. The Veterans Administration
(VA) supported the development of its own large multihospital information system.
730 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
The Public Health Hospitals and the Indian Health Service independently devel-
oped their own multihospital information systems. The National Aeronautics and
Space Administration (NASA) developed remote health care projects for its staff in
space missions. NASA was notable in another way: in the 1960s its remarkable
achievement of putting a man on the moon led many to believe that computer tech-
nology could solve any problem.
In 1968 a survey conducted for the National Center for Health Services Research
and Development reported that in the United States about half of the 1,200 hospitals
with more than 200 beds used computers for some business functions, but only
about 15 % of these had some operational medical or medical research computing
applications [15]. The majority of hospitals subscribed to out-of-hospital, shared
computing services [2] until the mid-1970s, when lower-cost, smaller special-
purpose minicomputers were introduced with the capabilities of being located in
different clinical departments, all linked to one or more central hospital, large main-
frame computers [3]. At that time, a survey of computer applications in approxi-
mately 100 hospitals in the United States reported that only about one-third had
clinical laboratory or other patient care applications [30].
By the end of the 1970s, a survey conducted by Maturi and DuBois [22] for the
National Center for Health Services Research and Development assessed the state
of commercially available laboratory, radiology, and pharmacy information sys-
tems. They reported that the major vendors of clinical laboratory systems at that
time were Becton Dickenson, Technicon, Medlab, and Community Health
Computing. The major vendors of radiology systems were Siemens and General
Electric; and the major vendors of pharmacy systems were Becton Dickenson,
International Business Machines, and Shared Medical Systems [22]. A second sur-
vey, conducted by Young and associates [34] at the University of Southern
California, identified minicomputer-based information systems in medium-sized
hospitals with 100–300 beds. They found that less than one-fourth of the hospitals
had clinical laboratory applications that included the preparation of laboratory work
sheets and schedules; very few had applications with two-way data transmission
and laboratory test results reporting. They concluded that, as of that date, the smaller
systems with minicomputers fell short of the more sophisticated systems in larger
hospitals with mainframe computers.
In the 1960s and 1970s, the most satisfied users of computers in health care were
business and administrative personnel. It was a time of somber realization that
developing a comprehensive, efficiently functioning hospital information system
(HIS) was a more complex project than putting a man on the moon, since the HIS
was extremely complicated technology and was very costly to develop and to main-
tain. Furthermore, the somewhat crude systems, elementary user interfaces, and
limited technology at the time had provided few immediate benefits and had frus-
trated many medical practitioners. Yet it was in the 1970s, perhaps in part because
of the frustrations and unmet needs, and recognition of the potential importance of
this area of endeavor, that medical informatics was identified as a new specialty to
represent the broad field of computers, communications, information science, and
biomedical technology as applied to medical practice, medical research, and medi-
cal education.
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 731
dedicated patient portals. There was also some use of personal health records
(PHRs) by patients – dedicated systems controlled by patients for their personal
health and health care recordkeeping and management – but to date this has lacked
a strong financial model and has not been widely adopted.
The experiences of these six decades confirmed that altering human behavior is very
difficult; and for physicians to change their patient care practices and accommodate
the use of computers was certainly no exception. The majority of clinicians did not
readily adjust to giving up dictating to secretaries or writing in their paper-based
medical charts, until they became accustomed to keyboard data entry and/or to
mouse-type data selectors with visual display terminals, or until they could dictate
directly into the EHRs. It became evident that the key to the successful diffusion of
computers in medicine was to adjust the computer to its professional users, and not
vice versa. Physicians have often been blamed for the lag in the diffusion of com-
puter applications to patient care. However, history has shown that when new tech-
nology seemed likely to improve the efficiency or the quality of patient care,
physicians were not reluctant to embrace such innovations, as evidenced by the
immediate and wide diffusion of CT and MRI scanning, held back only by regula-
tions requiring cost-benefit justifications for such expensive technologies. It was
predictable that when necessary enhancements became available, physicians would
eventually embrace computer workstation terminals and electronic health records.
Although federal government agencies funded much of the early research and
development in medical informatics, the government provided, other than for the
DoD’s Composite Health Care System, little direction or coordination of these
activities until the late 2000s. This resulted in a general “bottom-up” approach to the
development of medical informatics and health IT solutions in this country. Even
such federal agencies as the Veterans Administration, the Public Health Service,
and the Indian Health Service independently developed their own MISs. This was in
contrast to some other countries, notably Japan, where a top-down approach was
taken for their MIS development. In the United States, other than the National
Library of Medicine’s program to develop a Unified Medical Language System
(UMLS), there was little evidence of a nationwide coordinated effort in MIS devel-
opment until the late 2000s and beyond. At that point, the federal government, with
an eye to reining in continually rising costs of health care and providing a more
accountable, high value health system, generously supported the diffusion of EHRs.
Whereas in the 1960s and 1970s, federal government agencies had provided most of
the funding for health research and development, including early health information
technology (IT), in the 1980s industry began to financially support an increasing
share of research and development in health IT in the United States; and in the
1990s industry became the largest supporter of the development of health IT.
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 735
By the 1980s, the increasing expenditures for health care became a great national
concern, and efforts to control the costs of care became a matter of high priority. In
1983 the Health Care Financing Administration (HCFA) instituted for hospital
patients a scheme of fixed Medicare payments for 468 diagnosis-related groups
(DRGs) based on International Classification of Diseases (ICD) codes. In each hos-
pital in the United States that accepted Medicare patients, this led to a rapid and
often a major change in its hospital computer system, to allow collecting the neces-
sary data to satisfy Medicare billing requirements. Since Medicare accounted for
about 40 % of all hospital beds in use in the United States, it became evident that a
federal agency could be a powerful force in the diffusion of health IT in this country.
By the end of the 1980s, HCFA began to consider requiring physicians to similarly
provide in their claims for payments the codes for the diagnoses of Medicare office
patients; and HCFA began to explore the electronic processing and payments of
claims. As the concerns in the 1980s about the rising costs of medical care grew,
there was a concomitant increased competition among medical care organizations
to build more efficient and cost-effective integrated delivery networks, a trend
toward industrialization of medical care and the formation of medical conglomer-
ates developed; this in turn provided the stimulus for multi-facility health informa-
tion systems; and the health care industry had become one of the largest industries
in the United States. In 1988, The Fifth Annual Market Directory of Computers in
Health Care listed 750 vendors of medical computer systems, their applications and
supplies [8]. In 1989 a compendium in the journal MD Computing listed almost 400
manufacturers or vendors selling more than 1,000 different medical computing
products; most were designed for personal computers, and only about one-third
were for clinical purposes [16].
The daunting complexity of a large hospital and the enormous number of techni-
cal requirements for a comprehensive EHR system are clearly evidenced by the
relatively slow major achievements in EHR systems during these past six decades.
Probably the greatest increments of change in the function, design, development,
and diffusion of EHRs in the United States occurred when the federal government
funded these changes, as when (1) in 1983 the changes in government reimburse-
ment policies for the payment of claims for the care of Medicare patients required
hospitals to use diagnosis-related groupings (DRGs) when billing for reimburse-
ment for medical services provided to eligible patients; and (2) in 2009 when the US
Congress passed the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA), Title XIII
of which was the Health Information Technology for Economic and Clinical Health
(HITECH) Act. The HITECH Act included and resulted in the establishment in
2010 of the Office of the National Coordinator for Health Information Technology
(ONC) to directly fund health care providers to implement in their offices electronic
health record (EHR) systems that satisfied Meaningful Use of certified information
technology used to provide care to the Center for Medicare and Medicaid (CMS)
patients. Regrettably, Congress did not require at this date, as it had in 1983, stan-
dardized data coding and interoperability of patients’ records so that a patient could
choose to be seen by different physicians in different EHR systems and yet have all
their data integrated wherever they received their care.
736 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
It can be reasonably projected that in the next decade important advances will occur
in: (1) increasing use of patient genotyping, (2) telehealth care as well as connected
care, also known as m-health for mobile applications, (3) greatly enhanced cloud
computing services and integrated care; (4) care of the elderly and monitoring of
adverse drug events (ADEs); (5) clinical decision support systems (CDSS); (6)
improved patient data security; (7) big data analytics, improved population health,
public health, and disaster management; and finally, (8) interoperability and integra-
tion of care across venues.
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 737
Telehealth, or connected care, also called mobile health care (m-health), refers to
any communications used by health care providers to care for distant patients.
Telehealth can range from telecommunications between one patient and one health
care provider, to advanced high-quality online voice and video interactions with a
patient’s EHR. Patients with mobile devices can monitor and report on their own
vital signs and manage treatment and thus decrease the need for some visits to the
doctor’s office. In the 2010s outpatient information systems (OISs) and hospital
738 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
information systems (HISs) already had the capability of accepting patient care
orders generated wherever a patient was located, by a health care practitioner using
the order entry module (OE) of the CPOE program of the medical center; and the
results reporting (RR) module could display test results using mobile terminals such
as smartphones or electronic laptops.
In the next decade telehealth care for patients located outside of a major medical
center that holds the patients’ EHRs will be greatly expanded due to the increasing
numbers of elderly patients with diabetes, heart disease, kidney disease, arthritis,
Alzheimer’s disease and other chronic disorders. M-health will be commonly and
more efficiently provided in patients’ homes, with the health care providers, using
smartphones, electronic laptops or tablets equipped with mobile broadband access,
to directly transfer the patient’s data to-and-from the health care provider and the
patient’s record stored in the clinic or hospital EHR database. A major driver for this
trend is the rapid growth in variety and capabilities in recent years of a wide range
of personal biosensors for temperature, weight, blood pressure, p02, heart rate, glu-
cose level, respiratory parameters, etc., and environmental sensors for such things
as motion/activity, air quality, and ambient temperature, as well as sensors embed-
ded in home appliances and in the automobile. We will see increasing numbers and
varieties of wearable and implanted sensors and devices, including those embedded
in smartphones, along with increasingly capable mobile apps and internet-enabled
things. Interfaces will increasingly support voice recognition, text-to-speech; and
even some touchless gesture controls for applications where keypads and touch
screens are used on smartphones, as well as 3D sensing such as now done in some
gaming consoles. Of course the expected cautions must be raised in such scenarios;
such use can sometimes be dangerous, such as when a person is driving an automo-
bile while texting or engaging in other multifunction tasks.
Together with cloud computing to manage this wealth of data, and tools to ana-
lyze it, and to provide summaries/dashboards, reminders, and notifications of both
patient and provider, as necessary, we can expect a major expansion in this realm of
development. This will be augmented further by policies and reimbursement strate-
gies that emphasize wellness, early detection of disease, and more active care
coordination, e.g., post-discharge, as well as incentives for reimbursement of pro-
viders for telehealth services and easing of some of the geographic and professional
restrictions currently limiting the licensing of providers to perform such services.
It can be reasonably projected for the next decade, therefore, that remote biosen-
sors, hand-held portable devices, and cloud computing will become not only routine
tools and resources for the consumer/patient, but also for health care providers, to
enable them to communicate with each other and with their patients, to review their
patients’ data any time at any site, to transmit advice to patients, to transmit orders
to pharmacies and to laboratories, and to obtain web-based clinical decision
support.
Virtual consultation and remote diagnosis offer incredible potential to shape sur-
gery practices of the future, and to increase access to clinical specialist services
from within the primary care system. Telehealth technology could significantly
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 739
reduce the burden on the provision of secondary health care, and could result in a
major transformation of primary care, as for example, with the creation of remote
diagnosis and observation rooms, allowing patients to be diagnosed via video links
and subsequently treated remotely by specialists. Such mobile telehealth methods
could also reach many nurses, support staff, and doctors, thereby broadening access
to conveniently accessible care. Telehealth also has the potential to create high-
definition conferencing suites by enabling clinical experts to discuss together care
options, irrespective of their geographical location, leaving more time for the deliv-
ery of other vital services. Telehealth is continually evolving and can be adapted to
many different situations. Robotic surgery is already well developed and used for
distance surgery. Renal care and optometry have already been identified as areas
where telehealth can be used effectively. Patients with kidney failure using dialysis
machines in their own homes can be monitored remotely by their renal specialists.
Eye examinations by optometrists can be carried out via a video link. The opportu-
nities for education and training, including virtual skill-based training, are also
exciting.
data warehouses in collaborating medical centers in the nation, and can support
mobile e-health care for many individual patients. However, for patients’ medical
data, any shared storage by servers increased the risk of potential invasions of
patients’ data security and data privacy.
The increasing use of advanced computer analytics is also being seen and will
expand. A prominent example has been the Watson program developed by IBM to
harness large databases, text resources, and knowledge bases to create advanced
CDS for complex medical diagnosis and treatment problems using both phenomic
(based on the traditional phenotype characterization data in EHRs – history, physi-
cal, lab, imaging, etc.) and genomic patient data.
The subdiscipline of translational research informatics emerged in the 2000s to
address the transfer of large volumes of patients’ data between different data ware-
houses and clouds, and to support the querying of diverse information resources
located in multiple institutions. The National Center for Biomedical Computing
(NCBC) grants program of NIH funded development of a number of technologies
to address locating, querying, composing, combining, and mining biomedical
resources.
In the next decade the Internet likely will be a maze of thousands of servers and
clients; and cloud storage services will be provided by multiple vendors, including
Amazon, Apple, Google, IBM, Microsoft and other commercial vendors, each
allowing the transfer of files between computers, smartphones, and electronic tab-
lets. Barret [4] reported that Dropbox developed by Houston, was already storing on
remote servers about 20 billion documents for 4 million client-users with their
500,000 computers. When a user downloaded the Dropbox software to the user’s
computer, it created a folder for placing documents that the user wanted to access
remotely, e.g., from the Web, and to synchronize with other instances on different
computers. Despite these capabilities, with various high visibility data breaches in
the early 2010s, the cloud storage of electronic medical records continues to raise
concern about the need for added security and privacy.
Virtualization is a term sometimes used to describe the moving of data from a
fixed storage site into a cloud. The journal Economist [33] considered computing
clouds to be essentially digital-service factories that were global utilities accessible
from all corners of the planet; and described a “cloud of clouds” as having three
levels of service: (1) one level called “software as a service” (SaaS) included Web-
based applications; (2) another level called “platform as a service” (PaaS) allowed
developers to write applications for Web and mobile devices; and (3) a level called
“infrastructure as a service” (IaaS) allowed basic computing services that compa-
nies, like Amazon, used as its computer center. Lev-Ram [20] reported that Intel
was developing cloud services that could work seamlessly on any device, and soft-
ware developers could build applications using a standard set of tools. Intel’s Cloud
Builders program provided step-by-step guidance to companies that wanted to
move data and services to the cloud; and Intel brought together a group of about 70
companies to develop cloud computing software and hardware standards.
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 741
During the past six decades, the increasing use of prescribed drugs in patient care
has resulted in an alarming increase in the number of adverse drug events (ADEs)
especially in patients older than 60 years. One of the most important contributions
computers have made to the quality and safety of medical care has been in pharma-
cotherapy and in ADE monitoring.
Whereas prior to the 1960s, hospitals stocked full lines of medications at patient
care units in cabinets managed by nurses, the advent in the 1970s of automated
medication dispensing from unit-dose machines led to automated, ward-based med-
ication cabinets in the 1980s. Prior to the introduction of hospital unit-dose systems,
drugs were sometimes obtained out of general supplies in nursing stations; their
administration to patients could take place in different hospital locations and was
often recorded in different paper-based records. The earliest PHARM systems were
used for improving drug administration, but it was soon realized that the most
important application of the increasing computing power, associated with the
greatly expanding data-storage capacities, needed to be applied to the development
of automated PHARM systems for monitoring and detecting ADEs in order to
improve the quality and safety of patient care.
Beginning in the 1960s, it was realized that developing computer-based drug
monitoring systems for studying, detecting and preventing ADEs could be espe-
cially useful for hospitalized patients who usually have accessible a full record of
information on all events occurring for each patient; and this information is espe-
cially important for patients over the age of 60 years who usually take multiple
prescription drugs, referred to as polypharmacy, and for whom ADEs are more
common. In the 2010s, even though it was estimated that less than 1 % of the three
billion prescriptions written in the United States per year were entered by a com-
puter, the electronic entry of prescriptions, a key component of e-prescribing,
CPOE, and the EHR, was expected to accelerate the process [29]. It can be pro-
jected that in the next decade the advances in pharmacogenomics, the study of how
genetic variations in individual patients can better influence medication therapy, and
further improve the safety and effectiveness of prescribed drugs (see also Chap. 13).
It can also be projected that the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) will need to
increase its national automated ADE monitoring system to include every EHR sys-
tem in this country.
Because of the increase in chronic diseases, patients need to increasingly be
managed across multiple venues of care, from home to workplace, to provider
office, to specialist offices or imaging centers, to hospital, or extended care facili-
ties; access to medication data, as well as to an integrated problem list, allergies, and
labs across venues will be needed more than ever. To coordinate care across such
venues, a higher degree of interoperability and exchange of information will be
needed. This is partially addressed in our discussion of telehealth and connected
care in Sect. 18.2.2. We will come back to this point in Sect. 18.2.8.
742 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
Physicians have always sought the best advice for the diagnosis and treatment of
their patients’ medical problems, either by consulting with more experienced spe-
cialists or by searching in medical publications for the best outcomes of patients
reported to have had been treated for similar problems. With the advent of comput-
ers and medical information systems, the earliest informaticians explored the use of
computers to help clinicians provide better quality of care to their patients. Programs
for clinical decision support (CDS) have been continually developed and enhanced
to try to provide better computer aided diagnosis (CAD) for patients with rare and/
or complex medical conditions; and more effective computer-aided therapy (CAT)
for patients with complicated associated medical problems. CPOE and RR are
already essential components of EHR systems. The aforementioned advances in
precision medicine, increase in numbers and complexity of elderly patients with
multiple chronic diseases, the growth of polypharmacy, and the increasing recogni-
tion of need for coordination of care across multiple venues are adding dramatically
to the need for CDS tools.
It can be projected that meeting this need will come from several areas:
• Improved methods for generating knowledge. These include advances in text
mining from the literature, data mining and predictive modeling from the increas-
ingly large and varied clinical databases, and improved capture of clinical trial
data in standardized form and expansion in requirements for registering and
making such data available.
• Knowledge representation. Formal methods will mature for organizing knowl-
edge through ontologies, and knowledge processing formalisms such as rule sys-
tems, especially evolution of the semantic web and associated technologies. A
major aspect of this will be the formalization of the metadata, e.g., relating to
source and provenance of the knowledge, the domain of application, the setting
and context, in increasingly fine-grained and yet standardized form, that will
allow the knowledge to be searched and retrieved for highly specific use.
• Standardization. Interoperability of data and knowledge are essential at many
levels, and this will continue to be a major focus of effort as work to harmonize
the many competing standards and approaches continues. This includes data
models, vocabularies and terminologies, ontologies, reasoning formalisms,
transport protocols, grouping methods (such as for order sets or documentation
templates), workflow and guideline formalisms, quality measures, and decision
support as a service.
• Knowledge management. Efforts to formalize knowledge in its many forms and
associated metadata are leading to increasingly robust approaches to managing a
knowledge base, update it, and access for specific needs. It is unclear where the
authoritative knowledge will reside, but possibilities include national level
repositories hosted by agencies such as the NLM, those supported by profes-
sional specialty or disease-focused organizations, large health care organizations
or payers, or by knowledge vendors. There may be opportunities for internation-
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 743
Enacted on August 21, 1996, the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability
Act of 1996 (HIPAA), Public Law 104–191, requires the Secretary of Health and
Human Services (HHS) to publicize standards for the electronic exchange, privacy,
and security of health information. As enacted, it required the Secretary to issue
privacy regulations governing individually identifiable health information, if
Congress did not enact privacy legislation within 3 years of the passage of
HIPAA. Because Congress did not do so, HHS developed a proposed rule and
released it for public comment on November 3, 1999. The Department received
744 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
over 52,000 public comments. The final regulation, the Privacy Rule, was published
December 28, 2000. In March 2002, the Department proposed and released for
public comment modifications to the Privacy Rule. The Department received over
11,000 comments. The final modifications were published in final form on August
14, 2002. A text combining the final regulation and the modifications can be found
at 45 CFR Part 160 and Part 164, Subparts A and E.
Against this backdrop, it is nevertheless hoped that in the next decade a national
patient identifier will be adopted to facilitate the transfer of a patient’s data, and yet
protect the security and confidentiality of the patient’s data. With the evolution of
the automated generation of the summaries of computer-based patient records, and
electronic claims reporting as a byproduct of patient care transactions, and data
from a patient’s records of different services received from a variety of separate
health care providers in different medical facilities, the need developed for the
patient’s data to be linked by a common patient identification number. In the past,
each health care provider assigned to each patient a medical record number that was
unique for that provider’s patient database.
It would be ideal to give every person a unique health record identification (ID)
number for nationwide use that would not be the same as the Social Security num-
ber; since if pragmatists and economists were to prevail in using the Social Security
numbers for patients’ health records, it would still be a problem to fully protect the
confidentiality of each patient’s medical information.
Matching algorithms based on patient demographic characteristics can be highly
accurate, but still have errors. Also, they are cumbersome to use when one is trying
to create a large-scale database, say for genomic-phenomic correlation, for popula-
tion health, or for other research purposes, especially where data on individual
patients’ health status needs to be analyzed over time. For such purposes, either an
actual unique ID or generation of a consistent pseudo-ID is needed to achieve link-
age of data from multiple sources and episodes of care.
Researchers recognized early that it was necessary to place restrictions on the
research use of medical databases to protect the identity of the patients and to
preserve the confidentiality of the data without interfering unduly with the enhance-
ment of analytic power inherent in computer technology [24]. Lindberg [21] wrote
that in the 1970s the increased number of collaborative studies using networked
medical computer systems created a definite problem for protecting patient confi-
dentiality. In the 1980s the increasing mobility of patients across state lines, and the
emergence of multistate health care providers resulted in a need for uniform regula-
tions in all states governing the use and disclosure of health care information. In
recognition of this problem, the Uniform Healthcare Information Act was drafted in
1985 and was recommended for enactment in all states [7]. By the end of the 1980s,
the usual forms of data protection included frequent changes of assigned codes or
passwords to medical information system users that authorized access to patient
data from certain terminals; yet the highest risk to system security at that time con-
tinued to be from unauthorized access by telephone terminals into computer
networks.
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 745
ment and the situation. In disaster events where power shortages can interrupt stan-
dard line and mobile phone communications, the development of specially
programmed mobile phones or other wireless communication devices within range
of one another can each act as both transmitter and receiver in an ad-hoc network,
and pass information from device to device to form a web of connections. The net-
works need to be so designed and constructed that even when one or more devices
fails, a message can still get through, such as by sending the message along several
paths and thereby increasing the likelihood that the message will be received [11].
We also need to have comprehensive cloud-based repositories and redundancy
that permit access to data despite disruptions in local resources. This touches on
sections above on cloud computing, big data, and security and privacy.
Our current health information systems are still saddled with legacy assumptions
and architectures that make it difficult to respond to some of the priorities of the
current and future decades – such as coordination of care across multiple venues,
telecare/connected care harnessing patient-controlled and patient-generated data, a
focus on wellness, prevention of disease, and early and aggressive management of
disease outside of the hospital, and the harnessing of big data for population health,
research, and other social benefits. The current systems are silos and largely propri-
etary. The initiative known as the Health Information Exchange (IHE) helps with
the transfer of care summary documents and messages, and provides connections
“around the edges”. But we are still far away from having an integrated longitudinal
health and health care record for individuals, and from a fully integrated system of
care delivery.
Impetus for change may well come from reimbursement practices for health care
services such as pay-for-value rather than fee-for-service and payment for telecare-
based consultation; it may come from the increasing embrace of personal health
records by consumers driven by advances in personal sensors, wearables, and apps;
or from increased confidence in privacy and security fostering more aggregation and
sharing of data where appropriate.
On the technical side, there is advancement in opening up access to EHRs
through standard application program interfaces (APIs) delivered through web-
based service-oriented architectures (SOAs), common data models and terminology
servers to translate EHR-specific data elements into standard data representations,
master patient index identity services, role-based authorization and access services,
CDS services, and other capabilities. This begins to enable the evolution of three-
tiered architectures in which applications (both mobile and desktop) can be built as
a top layer, interacting only with the middle-tier services, that in turn interact with
the lower tier data sources such as EHR system. This enables apps to be indepen-
dent of underlying systems, interoperable, and able to access data from a variety of
data sources. Thus these new apps can begin to address some of the priorities for
18 Medical Informatics: Past and Future 747
health and health care that traditional legacy-based systems with their silos and
proprietary boundaries cannot.
The extent to which this occurs will depend on standards development and
acceptance, health care organizations and purchasers demanding service oriented
architecture-based interfaces for important services, vendors finding business value
or need to comply with such demands, and evolution of an ecosystem where busi-
nesses based on this model can thrive.
We can say that the progress over the past six decades, although slow and difficult,
has finally established the value and in fact necessity of health information systems.
The discipline of medical informatics, now more ubiquitously referred to as clinical
or health informatics, has evolved to be part of a broader field known as biomedical
informatics, which also embraces bioinformatics, focused on the “omics” field and its
translation to practice, imaging informatics, focusing on tissue and organ system data
and knowledge, typically embedded in imaging and sensor technologies, and popula-
tion/public health informatics dealing with large-scale and aggregate health data.
As this book is published in the mid-2010s, it is also positioned at what may be
regarded as an inflection point. At this point we are seeing increased recognition of
the role of health care in the larger health of the individual and the population and
the need to integrate and interact with other components of the health system,
changing priorities, and greatly expanded technological capabilities. These factors
are all converging to open up the potential of the field to what can be expected to be
exponential growth in the next decade and beyond.
With admiration for all the pioneers of the field over the past six decades, who
have laid the groundwork for an essential part of our lives, this work has reached the
stage where it is now a major part of the economy, provides career paths for a rap-
idly growing workforce, and represents a major opportunity to continue to innovate
and create systems and methods for better health and for the advances in knowledge
to support it.
References
1. Ball MJ, Jacobs SE. Hospital information systems as we enter the decade of the 80’s. Proc
Annu Symp Comput Appl Med Care. 1980;1:646.
2. Ball MJ, Hammon GL. Maybe a network of mini-computers can fill your data systems needs.
Hosp Financ Manag. 1975;29:48.
3. Ball MJ. Computers-prescription for hospital ills. Datamation. 1975;21:50–1.
4. Barret V. Best small companies. Forbes. 2011;188:82–92.
5. Blum BI, Lenhard Jr RE, McColligan EE. An integrated data model for patient care. IEEE
Trans Biomed Eng. 1985;32:277–88.
748 M.F. Collen and R.A. Greenes
6. Bronzino JD. In: Bronzino JD, editor. Computers and patient care. Saint Louis: C.V. Mosby;
1977. p. 57–102.
7. Burnett KK, Battle H, Cant GD. Uniform Health-Care Information Act. Chicago: National
Conference of Commissioners on Uniform State Laws; 1985.
8. Cardiff Publishing. Fifth annual market directory of computers in healthcare. Englewood:
Cardiff Pub. Co; 1988.
9. Collen MF. A history of medical informatics in the United States, 1950 to 1990. Indianapolis:
American Medical Informatics Association; 1995.
10. Dorenfest SI. The decade of the 1980’s: large expenditures produce limited progress in hospi-
tal automation. US Healthc. 1989;6:20–2.
11. Effros M, Goldsmith A, Medard M. Wireless networks. Sci Am. 2010;302:73–7.
12. Friedman C, Hripcsak G, Johnson SB, Cimino JJ, Clayton PD. A generalized relational schema
for an integrated clinical patient database. Proc SCAMC. 1990; 335–339.
13. Greenes RA, Pappalardo AN, Marble CW, Barnett GO. Design and implementation of a clini-
cal data management system. Comput Biomed Res. 1969;2:469–85.
14. Greenes RA, Shortliffe EH. Medical informatics. An emerging academic discipline and insti-
tutional priority. JAMA. 1990;263:1114–20.
15. Herner & Co. The use of computers in hospitals: Report III-Survey analysis; Report
IV-Descriptions of computer applications. Bethesda: National Center for Health Services
Research; 1968.
16. Hoffman T. The 6th annual medical hardware and software buyers guide. MD Comput.
1989;6:334–77.
17. King LS. The automobile makes an impact. JAMA. 1984;251:2352–5.
18. Lacey R. Ford, the men and the machine. Boston: Little, Brown; 1986.
19. Ledley RS. A personal view of sowing the seeds. In: Blum BI, Duncan KA, editors. History of
medical informatics. New York: ACM Press; 1990. p. 84–110.
20. Lev-Ram M. Intel’s sunny vision for the cloud. Fortune. 2011;164:95–100.
21. Lindberg D. Special aspects of medical computer records with respect to data privacy. In:
Williams B, editor. Proc 2nd Illinois Conf Med Inform Syst, University of Illinois Urbana.
Pittsburgh: Instrument Society of America; 1975. pp. 35–38.
22. Maturi VF, DuBois RM. Recent trends in computerized medical information systems for hos-
pital departments. Proc SCAMC. 1980;3:1541–9.
23. McDonald CJ, Tierney WM. Computer-stored medical records: their future role in medical
practice. JAMA. 1988;259:3433–40.
24. Miller RF. Computers and privacy: what price analytic power? Proc Annu Conf ACM. New
York: ACM. 1971; 706–716.
25. Newald J. Hospitals look to computerization of physician office linkage. Hospitals.
1987;61:92–4.
26. Open CDS. Open clinical decision support tools and resources. http://www.opencds.org/, 10
Jan 2015.
27. Polacsek RA. The fourth annual medical software buyer’s guide. MD Comput. 1987;4:23.
28. Reiser SJ, Anbar M. The machine at the bedside: strategies for using technology in patient
care. New York: Cambridge University Press; 1984.
29. Schiff GD, Rucker TD. Computerized prescribing: building the electronic infrastructure for
better medication usage. JAMA. 1998;279:1024–9.
30. Spencer WA. An opinion survey of computer applications in 149 hospitals in the USA, Europe
and Japan. Inform Health Soc Care. 1976;1:215–34.
31. Starr P. The social transformation of American medicine. New York: Basic Books; 1982.
32. Stroud C, Altevogt BM, Lori Nadig L, Hougan M. Forum on medical and public health pre-
paredness for catastrophic events; Institute of Medicine. Washington, DC: National Academies
Press; 2010.
33. The Economist. Tanks in the cloud. De Economist. 2011;402:49–50.
34. Young EM, Brian EW, Hardy DR, Kaplan A, Childerston JK. Evaluation of automated hospital
data management systems (AHDMS). Proc SCAMC. 1980;1:651–7.
Proceedings of Major Professional Meetings
Proc AAMSI Conf 1982. Proceedings of the First Annual Conference, American Association for
Medical Systems & Informatics, Bethesda, MD: AAMSI, 1982.
Proc AAMSI Conf 1983. Proceedings of the Second Annual Conference, American Association for
Medical Systems & Informatics, Bethesda, MD: AAMSI, 1983.
Proc AAMSI 1983. Proceedings of the AAMSI Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Cong
83 Lindberg DAB, Van Brunt EE, Jenkins MA (eds). Bethesda, MD: AAMSI, 1983.
Proc AAMSI 1984. Proceedings of the Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Congress 84.
Lindberg DAB, Colleen MF (eds). Bethesda, MD: AAMSI, 1984.
Proc AAMSI 1985. Proceedings of the Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Congress 85.
Levy AH, Williams BT (eds). Washington, DC: AAMSI, 1985.
Proc AAMSI 1986. Proceedings of the Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Congress 86.
Levy AH, Williams BT (eds). Washington, DC: AAMSI, 1986.
Proc AAMSI 1987. Proceedings of the Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Congress 87.
Levy AH, Williams BT (eds). Washington, DC: AAMSI, 1987.
Proc AAMSI 1988. Proceedings of the Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Congress 88.
Hammond WE (ed). Washington, DC: AAMSI, 1988.
Proc AAMSI 1989. Proceedings of the Congress on Medical Informatics, AAMSI Congress 89.
Hammond WE (ed). Washington, DC: AAMSI, 1989.
Proc AMIA 1982. Proceedings of the First AMIA Congress on Medical Informatics, AMIA
Congress 82. Lindberg DAB, Collen MF, Van Brunt EE (eds) New York: Masson, 1982.
Proc AMIA 1994. Proceedings of the Eighteenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Ozbolt JG (ed). JAMIA Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley &
Belfast, Inc., 1994.
Proc AMIA 1995. Proceedings of the Nineteenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Gardener RM (ed). JAMIA Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley &
Belfast, Inc., 1995.
Proc AMIA 1996. Proceedings of the 1996 AMIA Annual Fall Symposium. Cimino JJ (ed).
JAMIA Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 1996.
Proc AMIA 1997. Proceedings of the 1997 AMIA Fall Symposium. Masys DR (ed). JAMIA
Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 1997.
Proc AMIA 1998. Proceedings of the 1998 AMIA Fall Symposium. Chute CG (ed). JAMIA
Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 1998.
Proc AMIA 1999. Proceedings of the 1999 AMIA Fall Symposium. Lorenzi NM (ed). JAMIA
Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 1999.
Proc AMIA 2000. Proceedings of the 2000 AMIA Fall Symposium. Overhage JM (ed). JAMIA
Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 2000.
Proc AMIA 2001. Proceedings of the 2001 AMIA Symposium. Bakken S (ed). JAMIA Symposium
Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 2001.
Proc AMIA 2002. Proceedings of the 2002 AMIA Fall Symposium. Kahane IS (ed). JAMIA
Symposium Supplement. Philadelphia: Hanley & Belfast, Inc., 2002.
The following proceedings are available at http://knowledge.amia.org/all-proceedings
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2003. Proceedings of the 2003 AMIA Fall Symposium. Musen M (ed).
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2004. Proceedings of the 2004 AMIA Fall Symposium. AMIA did not
have a symposium that year because it hosted MEDINFO 2004.
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2005. Proceedings of the 2005 AMIA Fall Symposium. Friedman C (ed).
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2006. Proceedings of the 2006 AMIA Fall Symposium. Bates D (ed).
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2007. Proceedings of the 2007 AMIA Fall Symposium. Teich J (ed).
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2008. Proceedings of the 2008 AMIA Fall Symposium. Suermondt J (ed).
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2009. Proceedings of the 2009 AMIA Fall Symposium. Ohno-Machado
L (ed).
Proc AMIA Annu Symp 2010. Proceedings of the 2010 AMIA Fall Symposium. Kuperman G (ed).
Proc AMIA TBI 2009. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Translational Bioinformatics (TBI),
Lussier Y (ed).
Proc AMIA TBI 2010. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Translational Bioinformatics (TBI),
Tarczy-Hornoch P (ed).
Proc AMIA TBI 2011. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Translational Bioinformatics (TBI),
Sarkar IN (ed.)
Proc AMIA TBI 2012. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Translational Bioinformatics (TBI),
Shah N (ed).
Proc AMIA TBI 2013. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Translational Bioinformatics (TBI),
Tenenbaum J (ed).
Proc AMIA TBI 2014. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Translational Bioinformatics (TBI),
Denny J (ed.)
Proc AMIA CRI 2010. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Clinical Research Informatics (CRI),
Embi P (ed).
Proc AMIA CRI 2011. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Clinical Research Informatics (CRI),
Payne P (ed).
Proc AMIA CRI 2012. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Clinical Research Informatics (CRI),
Kahn M (ed).
Proc AMIA CRI 2013. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Clinical Research Informatics (CRI),
Bernstam E (ed).
Proc AMIA CRI 2014. Proceedings of the AMIA Summit on Clinical Research Informatics (CRI),
Richesson R (ed).
Proc MEDINFO 1974. Proceedings of the First World Conference on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 74, Stockholm. Anderson J, Forsythe JM (eds). Amsterdam: North-Holland, 1974.
Proc MEDINFO 1977. Proceedings of the Second World Conference on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 77, Toronto. Shires DB, Wolf H (eds). Amsterdam: North-Holland, 1977.
Proc MEDINFO 1980. Proceedings of the Third World Conference on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 80, Tokyo. Lindberg DAB, Kaihara S (eds). Amsterdam: North-Holland, 1980.
Proc MEDINFO 1983. Proceedings of the Fourth World Conference on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 83, Amsterdam. Van Bemmel JH, Ball MJ, Wigertz O (eds). Amsterdam: North
Holland, 1983.
Proc MEDINFO 1986. Proceedings of the Fifth World Conference on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 86, Washington. Salamon R, Blum BI, Jorgenson M (eds). Amsterdam: North-
Holland Pub Co., 1986.
Proceedings of Major Professional Meetings 751
Proc MEDINFO 1989. Proceedings of the Sixth World Conference on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 89, Beijing. Barber B, Cao D, Qin D, Wagner G (eds). Amsterdam: North-Holland,
1989.
Proc MEDINFO 1992. Proceedings of the Seventh World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 92, Geneva. Lun KC, Degoulet P, Piemme TE, Rienhoff O (eds). Amsterdam:
North-Holland, 1992.
Proc MEDINFO 1995. Proceedings of the Eighth World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 95, Vancouver, BC. Greenes RA, Peterson HE, Protti DJ (eds). Amsterdam: North-
Holland, 1995.
Proc MEDINFO 1998. Proceedings of the Ninth World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 98, Seoul, Korea. Cesnik B, McCray, AT, Scherrer JR (eds). Amsterdam: IOS
Press, 1998.
Proc MEDINFO 2001. Proceedings of the Tenth World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 2001, London, England. Patel VL, Rogers R, Haux H (eds). Amsterdam: IOS
Press, 2001.
Proc MEDINFO 2004. Proceedings of the Eleventh World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 2004, San Francisco, California, USA. Fieschi M, Coiera E, Li Y-C J (eds).
Amsterdam: IOS Press, 2004.
Proc MEDINFO 2007. Proceedings of the Twelfth World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 2007, Brisbane, Australia. Kuhn KA, Warren JR, Leong T-Y (eds). Amsterdam:
IOS Press, 2007.
Proc MEDINFO 2010. Proceedings of the Thirteenth World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 2010, Capetown, South Africa. Safran C, Reti S, Marin HF (eds). Amsterdam: IOS
Press, 2010.
Proc MEDINFO 2013. Proceedings of the Fourteenth World Congress on Medical Informatics,
MEDINFO 2013, Copenhagen, Denmark. Lehman CU, Ammenwerth E, Nøhr C (eds).
Amsterdam: IOS Press, 2013.
Proc SAMS 1973. Proceedings of the Society for Advanced Medical Systems. Colleen MF (ed).
San Francisco: ORSA, 1973.
Proc SCAMC 1977. Proceedings of the First Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Orthner FH, Hayman H (eds). New York: IEEE 1977.
Proc SCAMC 1978. Proceedings of the Second Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Dunn RA, Orthner FH (eds). Silver Springs, MD: IEEE Computer Society
Press, 1978.
Proc SCAMC 1979. Proceedings of the Third Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Dunn RA (ed). New York: IEEE, 1979.
Proc SCAMC 1980. Proceedings of the Fourth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. O’Neill JT (ed). New York: IEEE, 1980.
Proc SCAMC 1981. Proceedings of the Fifth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Hefferman HG (ed). New York: IEEE, 1981.
Proc SCAMC 1982. Proceedings of the Sixth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Blum BI (ed). New York: IEEE, 1982.
Proc SCAMC 1983. Proceedings of the Seventh Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Dayhoff RE (ed). New York: IEEE, 1983.
Proc SCAMC 1984. Proceedings of the Eighth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Cohen GS (ed). New York: IEEE, 1984.
Proc SCAMC 1985. Proceedings of the Ninth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Ackerman MJ (ed). New York: IEEE, 1985.
Proc SCAMC 1986. Proceedings of the Tenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Orthner HF (ed). New York: IEEE, 1986.
Proc SCAMC 1987. Proceedings of the Eleventh Annual Symposium on Computer Applications
in Medical Care. Stead WW (ed). New York: IEEE, 1987.
752 Proceedings of Major Professional Meetings
Proc SCAMC 1988. Proceedings of the Twelfth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications in
Medical Care. Greenes RA (ed). New York: IEEE, 1988.
Proc SCAMC 1989. Proceedings of the Thirteenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications
in Medical Care. Kingsland L (ed). New York: IEEE, 1989.
Proc SCAMC 1990. Proceedings of the Fourteenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications
in Medical Care. Miller RA (ed). Los Alamitos, CA: IEEE, 1990.
Proc SCAMC 1991. Proceedings of the Fifteenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications
in Medical Care. Clayton PD (ed). New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1991.
Proc SCAMC 1992. Proceedings of the Sixteenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications
in Medical Care. Frisse ME (ed). New York: McGraw-Hill, Inc., 1992.
Proc SCAMC 1993. Proceedings of the Seventeenth Annual Symposium on Computer Applications
in Medical Care. Safran C (ed). New York: McGraw-Hill., 1993.
Index
B D
Biosurveillance, 673–677, 681 Data integration, 123
Data mining, 685, 709, 711, 712
Data standards, 162, 256, 291, 470, 732, 733
C Data storage, 3
Chemistry laboratory systems, 526 Data warehouses, 27, 208, 214, 275
Clinical applications, 289, 339 Database management systems,
Clinical data, 123, 208, 216, 433, 685 27, 123, 227, 228
Clinical decision support, 685, 692 Definition, 258
Clinical effectiveness, 407 Dietary information systems, 505
Clinical information subsystems, 419 Digital communications in medicine
Clinical information systems, 123 (DICOM), 660, 667–669
Clinical laboratory systems, 526 Direct patient care, 386, 419
Clinical records and systems, 3 Distributed information systems, 419
Clinical subspecialties, 419 Distributed systems, 208
Clinical subsystems, 505 DoD CHCS, 459
Clinical support information systems, Drug administration, 611
505, 526
Clinical support systems, 146, 725
Commercial systems, 459 E
Communicable disease monitoring, 673 Early computers, 3
Community emergency medical Early installations, 459
systems, 407 Electronic health records, 208, 289, 725
Electronic patient records, 208, 243, 244, 339 Medication reconciliation, 611
Emergency department information Minicomputer-based laboratory systems, 526
systems, 407 Multi hospital information systems, 459
Evolution of clinical information systems, 339
N
F National Library of Medicine, 4, 49, 54, 57,
Federal role, 725 63, 133, 140, 154, 167, 168, 170, 175,
Federal sector systems, 459 182, 216, 223, 225–227, 291, 329, 352,
Federated databases, 26, 208, 214, 275 461, 599, 605, 614, 685, 711, 715–717,
Functional capabilities, 459 729, 734
Natural language processing (NLP), 150–192,
217, 565, 594, 595, 605, 606, 743
G Networked systems, 526
Genomic data, 208 Networking and the World Wide Web, 3
Nursing informatics, 386, 399
Nursing information systems, 341, 375, 386
H Nursing management, 386, 392
Hematology laboratory systems, 526 Nursing minimum data set, 386
Historical development, 725 Nursing practice, 386
Hospital information systems, 123, 339 Nursing terminology, 386
I O
Imaging information systems, 660 Outpatient information systems, 289
Infection surveillance, 673
Integrated CSIS, 505
Intensive care unit information P
systems, 407 Pathology informatics, 594
Interoperability, 123, 289, 401, 407, 505, 519, Personal health screening, 673
611, 742 Pharmacogenomics, 611
Pharmacy management, 611
Physician adoption, 289, 725
K Physician order entry, 611
Knowledge bases, 594 Picture archival and communication
Knowledge discovery, 685, 711 systems (PACS), 660, 662, 665–669
Point of care systems, 505
Polypharmacy, 611, 643–644
L Professional associations, 386
Laboratory information systems, 526 Professional certification, 386
Linguistic analysis, 594 Public health informatics, 673
M Q
Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI), Quality assurance, 685, 689
660, 664, 665, 727, 734
Medical databases, 208, 215, 275
Medical devices, 407 R
Medical informatics, 352, 725, 728 Radiology information systems (RIS), 660,
Medical information systems, 124 662, 664, 667
Medical knowledge databases, 685 Realtime surveillance systems, 673
Medical subspecialties, 419 RxNorm, 611, 614, 648
Index 755
T
Technological innovations, 725 W
Technology diffusion, 725 Workstations, 34–40, 526