No shared mental model
Providers, the coordinator role, and specialist offices each assumed someone else was responsible for follow-up.
Created a documented workflow at a free community clinic so that underserved patients are actually seen.
A free clinic for uninsured and underserved neighbors across Northeast Georgia.
Mercy Health Center
UX Researcher + Product Designer
Care coordinators responsible for managing specialist referrals across a free community clinic.
3 months of iteration
Care coordinators and healthcare stakeholders
eClinicalWorks · Epic EHR · Microsoft Excel
Patients weren't failing to receive specialty care because providers didn't care. They were getting lost inside a referral process that no one truly owned.
There wasn't a documented workflow I could study. I reconstructed it by following referrals from beginning to end, interviewing providers, and learning how each specialist office actually accepted patients.
In my first two weeks I called specialist offices Mercy referred to. I asked the same questions to each:
The investigation revealed that referral failures were driven less by patient behavior than by inconsistent processes. Every specialist office operated differently, ownership shifted between people, and no one had visibility once referrals left the clinic.
Same patient, same clinic, same specialists. What changed was where ownership lived and whether anyone could see the whole path.
A provider writes a specialist referral order in the chart.
MercyThe order enters the office with no defined owner downstream.
⚠ No ownerNoneThe same generic packet is faxed to every specialist, regardless of requirements.
MercyThe office returns it for missing items, or it simply sits unread.
SpecialistNo one chases status. The referral goes silent and falls off everyone's radar.
⚠ No closure pointNone12+ months pass. Symptoms worsen while the referral sits unclosed.
⚠ Learned helplessnessPatientA provider writes the order.
MercyThe SOP assigns one accountable owner the moment the order lands.
✓ SOPMercyAn in-person session builds the financial aid packet together with the patient.
Mercy + patientEvery row carries a status, a next action, and a date. Nothing stalls silently.
✓ TrackerTrackerA named partner contact accelerates scheduling from weeks to days.
SpecialistThe appointment is kept and the referral is formally closed.
✓ Trust rebuiltPatientAcross interviews, referral reviews, and conversations with providers, the same patterns surfaced repeatedly. These weren't isolated mistakes—they were predictable symptoms of a process with no shared ownership, no visibility, and no standardized workflow.
Providers, the coordinator role, and specialist offices each assumed someone else was responsible for follow-up.
Mercy was sending the same materials to every specialist, regardless of what each office actually required.
Once a referral left Mercy, no one could see where it was or whether it had stalled.
Applications expected a level of independent document-gathering most patients couldn't meet without help.
There was no defined moment when a referral counted as "done" — so referrals never reached one.
These five failures became the design brief for what came next.
Five components. One coordinator. A process that turned lost referrals into closed loops.
The SOP defined who does what, in what order, and where the handoffs live. It also formalized the Referrals Coordinator role as the single point of accountability — referrals were no longer "everyone's job and therefore no one's job."
A centralized Excel tracker that gave every active referral a visible status. The tracker became the engine that drove the daily workflow — no referral could stall silently because every row carried a date and a next action.
Rather than handing patients a list of documents to gather on their own, I sat down with each one during dedicated in-office appointments. We filled out applications in person. For patients who couldn't easily return to the clinic, I made the calls and gathered the documents on their behalf. This was the part of the system that explicitly absorbed the cognitive and logistical load that the old process had silently offloaded onto the patient.
Each morning: triage every open row by next-action date. Standing meetings with specialist partners turned transactional contacts into relationships that moved referrals faster.
| Patient | DOB | Specialty | Referral Date | Financial Aid | Date Sent | Appt Scheduled | Next Action | Status |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| A. Martinez | 04/12/72 | Cardiology | 11/14/24 | Approved | 11/18/24 | Yes — 12/02 | Confirm appt w/ patient | Scheduled |
| T. Brown | 07/03/68 | GI — Hepatology | 10/22/24 | Approved | 10/28/24 | Yes — 11/15 | Patient seen ✓ | Closed |
| D. Williams | 09/15/81 | Orthopedics | 12/01/24 | Pending DOL letter | — | No | Walk pt through DOL request | Awaiting Docs |
| R. Thompson | 02/28/55 | Optometry | 11/30/24 | Approved | 12/02/24 | Pending | Follow up w/ St. Mary's | Sent |
| M. Davis | 06/19/79 | Dermatology | 12/05/24 | Not yet started | — | No | Schedule in-office FA session | Open |
| J. Wilson | 03/08/62 | Neurology | 11/08/24 | Approved | 11/12/24 | Yes — 12/18 | Reminder call 12/16 | Scheduled |
| L. Garcia | 08/22/70 | Mental Health | 10/15/24 | Approved | 10/20/24 | Yes — 11/04 | Patient seen ✓ | Closed |
The system held together because its parts were standardized. These are the components I built once and reused on every referral — the closest thing this operation had to a design system.
Status taxonomy
One unambiguous state per referral
Specialist contact card
One per partner office · illustrative
Per-specialist checklist
Built from each office's actual requirements
Patient prep guide
The cognitive load, broken into steps
By the end of the first month, the new process produced what the old one couldn't: closed referrals. Patients who'd waited over a year started getting scheduled — the cirrhosis patient among them. On the tracker, rows finally moved through statuses instead of stalling at "Open," and the backlog shrank week over week.
Three decisions carried this project. Each one traces the same loop — what the evidence showed, what it meant, the call I made, and the tradeoff I accepted.
Hundreds of referrals lived on paper in a drawer. No one could see what was open or how old it was.
The bottleneck wasn't effort — it was invisibility. Cases stalled because nothing forced an open referral to demand its next action.
Build one shared tracker that surfaces every open case and its next action daily — not a new patient-facing app.
The backlog became burnable. Processing time fell from 12+ months to ~2 weeks.
Less visible "design" than a patient app — but it's the tool the team could actually run every day without me.
Referral packets were sent into a void. Specialist offices had no point of contact and often never responded.
The failure was structural, not clinical — an ownerless handoff between the clinic and each specialist.
Establish a single named point person holding each specialist relationship and its financial-aid contact.
Specific cases moved in days; partners gained a reliable coordinator — cited by name in Mercy's public staff feature.
Concentrating relationship knowledge in one role created a single point of failure — which decision 03 was built to resolve.
A process that worked only because one person pushed it would collapse the moment that person left.
Durability is a design requirement, not a nice-to-have. A win that can't survive a handoff doesn't really count.
Encode the work into an SOP, per-specialist checklists, and a daily follow-up cadence anyone could run.
The system stayed in use after I left — the outcome I'd point to first.
Spent time documenting instead of clearing a few more cases short-term, to buy long-term continuity.
The change showed up in the only place that mattered: how quickly patients were seen.
Within three months of stepping into the role, the referral process at Mercy was no longer the same system. It was being actively managed, daily, against a tracker that made every open case visible — and the change showed up in the only place that mattered: how quickly patients were seen.
12+ months → 2 weeks
Open referrals fell week over week as the daily cadence cleared the year-plus backlog.
Roughly a 26× reduction in average referral processing time.
Of the referrals I personally managed, about nine in ten reached scheduled specialist care.
Illustrative — reconstructed from the tracker records that ran the process. Exact patient figures are withheld and the shapes are approximate.
The shift wasn't only in throughput. Mercy's relationships with its specialist partners changed too. Where the clinic had previously sent packets into a void and waited for a response, it now had a named point person who held those relationships, knew each office's financial aid contact by name, and could move specific patient cases through in days rather than weeks. The referrals function itself became something Mercy's leadership and outside partners could rely on as a stable part of the clinic's operation — not a recurring source of breakdown.
The system outlived my role. When I left Mercy, the SOP, the tracker, the per-specialist checklists, and the daily follow-up cadence stayed in use. That continuity is the outcome I would point to first if asked whether the work was real or just personal heroics. A process that depends on one person to function is fragile. A process that keeps running after that person leaves is a system. Mercy now has one.
"Jenny Negrete came to Mercy in October of 2024 and serves as our Patient Representative and Referral Specialist. Since her arrival, she has tremendously improved our patients' access to specialty care around Athens and has given our partners, like St. Mary's, a point person for care coordination. Jenny has been a wonderful addition to Mercy and we love all that she does to advocate for them to get the care they need."
Mercy Health Center · Public staff feature, 2025The patients who had waited longest were the first to benefit — including the cirrhosis patient, scheduled and seen in the first cycle of the new process. Many told me they had stopped expecting the system to work at all. The redesign was, in part, built to earn that expectation back.
Most case studies I read in school were about increasing conversion rates. This one was about whether a patient with cirrhosis would see a hepatologist before their disease progressed further. The work I did at Mercy taught me to take design seriously because the people on the other side of it are taking their lives seriously. That's the standard I bring to every product decision.
No training, no documented process, a year-plus backlog. The discomfort of not knowing what to do next is not the same as having nothing to do — the work was to ask, observe, and map until the system's shape appeared. Shipping before you understand is the same instinct that built the broken process I inherited.
At Mercy, the word "user" never fit. I sat with sick, exhausted people and asked them to gather bank statements; I called the Department of Labor while they waited beside me. Empathy isn't a research method or a value statement, it's a practice — the person on the other side of every screen has a body and a limit, and the design either respects that or it doesn't.
The outcome I'm proudest of is that the system kept working after I left. Early on I could have been the system — holding every relationship and follow-up in my head and calling it competence. Writing it down so someone else could inherit it was the harder, better choice, and the difference between a fix and a system.
I expected the fix to be about chasing specialist offices harder. It wasn't. The breakdown was structural — no one owned the handoff — so the highest-leverage move was making every open case visible in one place, not working faster. Visibility changed behavior more than effort did, and that reframing is the part I carry into every product problem since.
The process works, but it still leans on manual follow-up. If I carried it forward, the next moves are clear: