Hipaa Form Georgia: Fill & Download for Free

At the time, I worked for the County Health Department. My actual job was for a non-profit dedicated to improving infant health but the County managed the grant, and therefore my salary and employment.My workspace was located in a remote clinic, behind a locked door. Since my door was the only one that locked, medical records pertaining to infant mortality cases, were also kept in a locked cabinet located in the open space behind my workspace. The key to the cabinet was hidden somewhere nearby. I wasn’t given the details of the key’s location, as I had no need of access. I put no effort into figuring out its location, as I had no interest.There was an older nurse, I will call her Maggie, that worked at the clinic part-time. She had once been a full-time nurse, a fantastic one from all accounts, had retired, had come back as a volunteer and had been asked to come back to work on a part-time basis. Maggie was great at reviewing records, great with the patients who had experienced an infant loss and terrible at technology. She asked a lot of questions and needed a lot of direction when anything disrupted her routine activities. She was almost 80. I get it.The coordinator of the program Maggie worked for, I will call her Georgia, frequently became frustrated by Maggie. She was very busy and Maggie could be annoying and disruptive to her workflow. I get it.I left them to their bickering until one morning…“Do you know where the key to the records cabinet is?” Maggie asked.I could hear her shuffling things around behind me but didn’t turn. “No ma’am, sorry.”“I can’t find it anywhere. Where could it possibly be?” Her voice was tinged with anxiety and her shuffling intensified.“Ask Georgia, she was the last person in the cabinet yesterday afternoon, maybe she accidentally kept it.” I turned to look at her, channeling calmness in her direction.“She isn’t here yet.” She proclaimed, her voice a little pitchy. Wringing her hands she looked at me, the cabinet, the general area the key should have been, then back to me, the cabinet…”Hold on a sec, her calendar is shared with me, I can see if she has an appointment this morning or if she is just running late.” I said in my gentle voice, the one I use when my three-year-old son is having a full on freak out for no identifiable reason. I smiled reassuringly and turned back to my computer.“Wait, the cabinet isn’t even locked.” This exciting news did nothing to remove the anxiety from her voice.Turning back to her I smiled, “There ya go, crisis averted.”“Yes, I mean no, it’s a HIPAA violation.” Suddenly the anxiety was gone from both her body and voice, replaced by the tone and demeanor of a fussy grandmother.“Well, technically they are still locked behind the door and the only additional person with access was myself. I have gone through all relevant background checks and HIPAA trainings. See? Crisis averted. I’m glad you can get your file.” I smiled and turned around, eternally grateful that the files and their cabinet were not my circus or my monkey.I made sure to look very busy as she fussed her way through finding the correct file and leaving my workspace, only marginally ashamed of my cowardice. I have a grandmother, she lives 700 miles away and I have been in trouble exactly one time in three decades. I am a staunch avoider of fussing.Approximately 30 minutes later the keypad on the door beeps and, as I suddenly become very busy, Georgia walks in.“Oh my God, that woman drives me insane. I have a headache and I just can not deal with her today. I didn’t even put my bag down before she was in my office b**tching about this f*cking cabinet.” She proclaimed, pacing and gesturing at the cabinet in question.“Well, you know how she is about procedure. Just put it behind you and move on with your day,” I commented, never looking away from my screen, desperate not to engage, tracking her movements out of the corner of my eye only.“Hey, you know what?” She said excitedly, “Hey, seriously, I know what to do. I need your help.”Sigh. I turned around, “What’s up? What do you need?”“We are going to gaslight her.” She declares with a flourish of her hand.“I’m sorry. I’m unfamiliar with that term.” I frowned. I have a decent vocabulary and I had literally no idea what she was talking about.“I’m going to lock the cabinet and put the key back. Then we pretend the key was always there and the cabinet was always locked. Ha! You just have to back me up.” She clapped her hands together to punctuate her delight.I just sat there, speechless and stared at her. My mouth might even have fallen open a bit as I considered the implications of gaslighting an elderly woman.She opened her mouth, I’m assuming to go over the details of her plan and get our story straight, but before she could speak I held my hand out in front of me. Giving her the universal signal to stop. I couldn’t help but notice the sparkle of excitement in her eye and the giddy anticipation on her face. It made me physically nauseated.“To clarify, you would like me to assist you in mentally abusing an elderly woman.” My tone was flat, my face unfriendly.“No, it’s just…”“Absolutely not. I will absolutely not, under any circumstances participate or ignore the BLATANT mental abuse of anyone.” Pause for dramatic effect, and oxygen. “Let alone an elderly nurse, whose entire life has been dedicated to the care and well-being of others. An elderly nurse who, very easily could be experiencing the early symptoms of dementia based on some of her behaviors. You’re a f*cking nurse. You work for the f*cking public health department. What is wrong with you? I’m ashamed for you.” I put my hand down and, shaking my head in disbelief, started to turn back to my desk.“It’s just a joke, relax.” She said dismissively.“No, it’s not a joke. It’s abuse. If you did it to me, maybe it would be a joke, maybe. Not to Maggie. It’s abuse and if you attempt to gaslight her I will not only immediately tell her the truth but I will report you to your supervisor. Please leave my area, you disgust me.” With that I turned around and ignored her until she left.Having to explain, to a medical professional, the concept of mental abuse left me dumbfounded. People are f*cking idiots.

Well, it sounds like Georgia thinks HIPAA laws will no longer apply to women. So I am not sure how this would actually work. Do they put all women on mandatory pregnancy tests and then fit them with ankle monitors, then re-test them as soon as they come back to GA? Do they think other states are just going to voluntarily hand over women’s medical records?Really, what does this actually look like in the real world?

HIPPA does not protect any care giver or institution from a subpoena.There is a slippery part however. How does Georgia (by example) have jurisdiction over an act that takes place in Florida, when the Constitution requires Georgia to give full faith and credit to the laws of every other state, which in this hypothetical would include Florida, never seems to occurred to these mindless twits.Legislators in these nutty states remind me of King Canute who went to the sea and commanded the tide not to come in. The mere fact that their laws are not enforceable seems to make no difference to these righteous idiots.