Friday, May 22
I'm wearing many hats this year for the AAPA Conference. As a member of the AAPA Professional Practice Council, I'll be meeting and participating in the House of Delegates policy activities; I'll be recording my events for JAAPA, as a member of the editorial board; my two CME co-presentations will put me in front of at least a few colleagues to talk about health disparities and clinician bias; and my alternate HOD delegate status for the Washington state academy brings me an extra ribbon for my name tag, and possible duty filling in on the floor if regular delegates needs a break.
My wife Pat and I are flying on the ever-scolding Alaska Airlines, where you get non-stop lectures from the minute you board till you get off: “Please get out of the aisle!” “Please stay in your seats so we can roll the beverage cart.” “If you don't get in your seat soon, we'll lose our place in line to take off!” They always do this. Whatever, we think. Of course, we don't say that because we don't want to get thrown off the flight.
We arrive in sunny San Diego, and the airport here is weird. You fly in low over buildings, and it looks like you're flying into downtown. Somewhat unnerving, but we make it back to earth. A short cab ride later, we're at the Marriott Marina. We're a little early at 12:30 pm and are told to get lost for a half hour or so. We come back and get the sternly stated news: “You may have to wait until 4 pm.” We shop for another check-in agent, and she changes us to a room that is ready, and off we go to the room.
Funny place, the Marriott. Big emphasis on modernity, with corresponding lack of warmth. Kind of a Disney feel, or Vegas. BIG!
I meet at 3 pm with my co-presenters for a talk on Tuesday about clinician bias, and it goes great. I'll be presenting with two top-notch PAs, Diane Bruessow (new to the JAAPA Editorial Board) and Susan LeLacheur from GWU in DC. Couldn't be doing it with two better PAs, and we're ready!
Then off to my Professional Practice Council meeting at 4, to prep for the House of Delegates three-day session, starting Saturday. We prepare for presentations related to our numerous policy resolutions and sharpen our sticks for delivering concise testimony. This is a dynamic group, with stellar PA and staff membership, and it's a great place to learn about policy, both what it is, and how to make it. And it is kind of like making sausage.
In line with the time-honored tradition of packing six million events into each conference day, we are off to the Padres-Cubs game at nearby Petco Field. It's a new place, pretty no frills but the standard retro look, and it's a pleasant night. Carlos Zambrano is on the hill for the Cubs, and the Pads put together a good game and win 4-0.
The food is disappointing, but isn't that how it usually goes at pro sports events? I have a somewhat nasty BBQ sando, Pat has even more mediocre fish and chips, and we bemoan the relative scarcity of non-Budweiser products at the beer stand. We walk the short distance home, collapse in a heap in our very comfy bed, and rest up for Saturday.
Saturday, May 23
I overslept and missed the House of Delegates orientation at 730. This is meant for new delegates, and I've been here before, but I enjoy hearing the details again because the house can be a confusing process.
We're challenged finding fruit and other food items with fiber. Starbucks fruit cups suffice, but boy are those things bland! Then on to HOD for the ceremonial opening, replete with flag carrying and an inspiring beginning. Such an opening underscores the serious business of HOD. HOD deliberations are divided into three compartments, Reference Committees A, B, and C, each with resolutions grouped around certain topics. Today and tomorrow are the hearings, where there is a less formal discussion of the resolutions, followed by the more formal session on Monday, where it's make or break time for policy.
This year I'm using Twitter to participate in the conference online presence. AAPA staff member Lynn Morton is coordinating this, and my wife Pat is an official conference blogger, as well as an affiliate member. I tweet away during the house, and it's a good way to stay focused on the events. Lynn has done a herculean job in helping move the org into the modern era, and it's visible everywhere. Tweet!
The morning opening session is always a hoot, with the high-end effects, and booming talk-show host voices saying, “and now, please welcome AAPA president CIN—DEEE LOOOOORD!!!” It's half baseball game, half night club, and always one of my favorite events. MC Mark Walberg cracks me up, and he keeps things moving along with his funny and absurd antics. He's back this year for the second time, and I think he's a keeper.
Keynote speaker Stephen Covey lays it on the line about trust, and how trust trumps just about everything in the workplace. My wife, who's here as an exhibitor, and I nod in appreciation, but sneak to the door after a few minutes and cut out stealthily. We trust each other to not tell anyone that we left early.
Later we hit the HOD reception, which is always a place with great food and drink, and this year is no exception, with a dynamite view from a pool at the host Hyatt hotel. There originally had been some concern about the Manchester Hyatt, as the owner gave dough to the California Prop 8 initiative to ban gay marriage. But staff of AAPA did a nice job addressing the concerns of members, and the brouhaha died down. So we enjoy the reception, eat some gyros and veggies, and then it's off to the big conference opening reception at Broadway Center. We catch a cab and are regaled with hilarious banter by our cab driver. The party is a blast, with dancing, food, and general hob-nobbing extraordinaire. AAPA Prez Cindy Lord brings hubby Fred to his first conference ever, noting to all that “see, there is a Fred!”
We walk home and stop at Ralph's Supermarket, buying up papaya, yogurt, apples, and carrots, clear signs of our sagging nutritional status. Is there anything better than fresh fruit in the face of non-stop road food?
We make it to the hotel, and in the same breath that we praise our fruit, we order room service cheeseburgers. We remind ourselves later that good people can make bad decisions, and then eat more strawberries.
Sunday, May 24
Back to HOD for a day of hearings. My council has many resolutions on the docket today, and I make my floor debut this year, offering up a few inconsequential comments related to a revised “impaired provider” resolution. It's always bizarre testifying at HOD, as you look at yourself on this giant screen right in front of you. I have learned to just not look. It's better that way.
Monday, May 25
Its HOD again, and I freak out on twitter, posting about every five seconds as the day moves forward, with the always fascinating HOD parliamentary shenanigans in full force. Sometimes I think HOD is divided into two camps: those who know what's going on, and those who absolutely do not. I move from camp to camp freely, and engage an HOD translator close by to tell me what certain rulings and developments mean in human-talk. At HOD, yes can mean no, up can mean down, and it gets crazy. I leave HOD every year engaged and energized, but wondering if there aren't some others besides me who don't get certain procedures, but who feel too embarrassed to say so. I'll have to spend more time with the “Sturgis”, the procedural bible of HOD. But good policy appears to prevail, and it's over early!!
We rush over the to the “Town Hall” meeting and listen as PAs ask questions of AAPA leaders Steve Hanson, Bill Leinweber, and Cindy Lord, with the always enjoyable Mark Walberg pulling MC duty. Someone wonders aloud what the impact will be of new limits on pharma company swag at the exhibit hall (no pens), and Pat, who is exhibiting at the conference for the government-run National Library of Medicine, goes to the mike and brings down the house with her line, “ I'm exhibiting for the National Library of Medicine, and WE have pens.”
Tuesday, May 26
It's a busy day today, as I prep for two CME presentations. Both go well, the first with AAPA Committee on Diversity chair Trisha Harris-Odimgbe about racial and other health disparities. She is a dynamo speaker, and while I felt engaged and was glad to be a co-presenter, she was the show-stopper. Later in the day, I did panel presentations with two more cracker-jack presenters, PAs Diane Bruessow and Susan LeLacheur, where we talk about the impact of bias and stereotyping o patient care. We break into small groups, and my group features the all-American PA squadron, with six PAs from the most divergent backgrounds possible. I'm blown away by the honesty and courage of the group members as we talk about discrimination, both to us and by us, and again I'm proud to be a PA.
Tuesday night is the JAAPA Editorial Board dinner, and since this is appearing in JAAPA, I really can't spill some of the juiciest beans, but I will say this: I like Limoncello better than Sambuca.
Wednesday, May 27
It's up early, and I meet a friend who I've not seen for 25 years! We sit by the water and drink coffee, and I learn all about life as a DJ in San Diego.
Wednesday is exhibit hall day, and I pull a few hours at the JAAPA booth in the slightly somber exhibit hall. This is the first year with new restrictions in place limiting pharma companies from giving out pens and pads. They can still give out food, and I nail the dippin-dots cart at Lilly hard, going back two times. I later feel ashamed, wondering how my prescribing habits will be unconsciously impacted by the cool and frosty dessert items from Lilly. And suddenly, out of the blue, it happens: I have a sudden urge to prescribe Cymbalta.
The JAAPA booth is always fun, and we meet and greet a parade of interesting PAs. Most read it, care about the material, and it makes us feel like we're putting out a pretty darned good publication when we hear from PAs who read the thing cover to cover.
Thursday, May 28
Lots of PAs stick around for a few days of sightseeing after conference, but we opt to head home, leaving ourselves a four -hour window for seeing the sights. We did the same thing last year in San Antonio, and probably got the world record for most missions visited in four hours (plus we had a great BBQ meal and went to two museums!) This year we opt for a cab ride to the Hotel Del Coronado, or “the Hotel Del” as they say around here. What a fabulous lobby! Dark wood, old elevators with operators wearing those little pill-box hats, opulent views of the ocean from everywhere…wow! We lunch on predictably mediocre food, stroll the beach for a condensed session of beachcombing, and witness all the drama that nature can offer up in about 15 seconds: we see a huge osprey slam into the ocean and pluck out a stunned fish, and watch from just a few feet as the giant bird struggles to gain altitude with the floppy prize in claws. As the bird gains height, the fish wriggles around crazily. What must the fish have been thinking as it moved into the sky? Perhaps “what the…” Surely this was a new experience for the fish, and probably its last one. As the osprey and its scaly little passenger moved overhead, several poaching crows and the like attacked, looking for freebies. As the whole scene moved out of sight, my wife and I just looked at each other and said, “unbelievable.” JAAPA