The Immeasurable Side of Healthcare

My wife and I recently welcomed our baby into the world, and like so many parents, we spent those first precious days in the hospital—a place often evaluated by structured surveys, data-driven metrics, and defined quality measures.

But as someone who has worked in healthcare and seen how we try to quantify the patient experience, I know there’s so much that goes unnoticed in the numbers.

And in our case, this experience was even more personal. The same health system that delivered me as a baby, that delivered my wife, was now delivering our daughter. I had even worked for this health system in the past, so I knew firsthand the level of dedication and care that went into every patient’s experience. But this time, I wasn’t a team member. I was a patient, a husband, and a new dad—seeing the impact from the other side.

While HCAHPS surveys may be comprehensive, there's no survey that captures:

• The transport staff offering quiet encouragement as we leave the safety of the hospital and step into the real world as parents.
• The hospital security ensuring entry and discharge traffic is clear so we can buckle our newborn into a car seat for the first time.
• The midwives and L&D nurses who find a rhythm with their patients, turning delivery into a synchronized dance of care and support.
• The front-desk personnel who create a sense of security, filtering through the chaos to ensure each patient feels safe.
• The janitorial staff who check in just to make sure our room remains fresh, removing any trace of dirty diapers before we even notice.
• The pediatricians who round on newborns with a calm assurance that everything is going to be okay.
• The staff members who, despite likely hearing the same jokes a thousand times, still entertained my newfound dad-humor with a smile.
• The people who noticed when we looked lost in the maze of hallways and not only pointed us in the right direction but sometimes walked us there.
• The lactation consultants who reminded us that just as we are learning how to be parents, our baby is learning how to be a baby—and that we should be patient with each other.
• The effortless communication between us and our nurses, where a simple text message at any hour connected us to help when we needed it most.
• The way the hospital ensured our doula could be part of the process, respecting and adapting to our birth plan as best as possible, even when unexpected circumstances arose.
• The food services staff who made sure our bodies were nourished, knowing that recovering and adjusting to life as new parents requires more than just rest.
• The thoughtful room assignment that ensured we had windows—helping to ease the anxiety of feeling trapped in a hospital room during such a life-changing experience.
• The seamless communication between all the moving parts. Everyone seemed to know exactly what had just occurred, what was coming next, and clearly communicated what we could expect in the upcoming hours so we never felt lost or uncertain.
• The triage nurse who didn’t just run through protocols but took the time to go over every option, every pro and con, and then gave us the space, time, and autonomy to decide which path to take.

But here’s the thing—none of this happens by accident.

It’s easy for a health system to put "transformation" in its mission statement. It’s easy to say you want to "inspire health, serve with compassion, and be the difference." But words don’t create experiences—people do.

Creating an experience like this takes intentionality. It starts with hiring the right people—the ones who see their work as more than a job. It takes leadership that prioritizes a culture of empathy, teamwork, and excellence. It requires equipping staff with the technology and processes that make communication effortless, ensuring every transition between departments is seamless. It takes training, investment, and trust in the people who make up the system.

These moments—the ones that don’t fit neatly into a metric—are the result of people who care, working in a system designed to let them show it.

And as someone who works for Navvis (healthcare) , where our mission is to transform health in the U.S. by creating a tipping point that improves the health of 20 million people, this experience reinforced why that work is so important. Transformation isn’t about slogans—it’s about execution. It assures me that patients across the country are experiencing the same level of care we did—care that goes beyond clinical excellence and reaches the heart of what it means to truly serve people during life’s most vulnerable moments.

To the Prisma Health hospital staff who made our stay not just clinical, but personal: Thank you.

For every healthcare worker reading this—whether you measure patient care in metrics or in moments—please know that what you do matters in ways no survey will ever capture.

-- Thomas McLeroy