“What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”
— T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding (in Four Quartets)

In modern healthcare, every “ending” is meant to signal the start of the next stage of care: the end of a clinic visit should begin a clear follow-up plan; the end of a hospitalization should begin safe recovery at home. Yet this is where breakdowns most often occur. Communication failures are among the leading causes of preventable harm in U.S. healthcare. One analysis found that breakdowns in communication contributed to 30% of malpractice claims and were linked to more than 1,700 patient deaths over five years (CRICO Strategies, 2015). When patients leave an appointment uncertain about what was said, who is responsible for the next step, or what symptoms to monitor, the consequences are rarely theoretical. They are clinical.

Healthcare fragmentation amplifies this risk. Patients often see multiple clinicians across multiple settings, and without someone who “holds the story,” key information is easily lost. A large nationwide cohort study showed that higher fragmentation of care was associated with more inappropriate medication use and significantly increased mortality (Prior et al., 2023). In practical terms: when no one owns the narrative, patients pay the price.

Clarity, therefore, is not a courtesy. It is a form of safety. The end of one encounter must become the true beginning of the next. When we fail to orient patients, and to ensure we ourselves understand the plan, care does not simply pause. It unravels.

Our healthcare system didn’t break overnight. Like Poe’s haunted mansion, it’s collapsing from within; not from one catastrophe, but from years of hidden cracks: generational policy failures, burned-out providers, fragmented care, and the silence that grows between patient and clinician. When the people inside the house are suffering, and the walls are groaning, we have a choice: look away, or start the repair.