The ultimate PDA — and it's essentially free

Yesterday's Wall Street Journal featured a column by Thomas E. Weber about personal productivity, to–do lists and getting things done.

Go ahead and read it at the link above but really, let's be honest: if you're reading this, any lessons you might learn about taking care of business instead of goofing off would be wasted on you.

Having established that you're a slacker like me, let us spend a little time you don't really have examining the merits of a PDA that existed long before Palm and the Internet were a dream in the visionary mind of Douglas Englebart (below).

Weber's column, toward the very end, mentioned the use of a pocket organizer made from index cards and a binder clip, dubbed the "Hipster" PDA.

Well.

A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away I was an intern at Los Angeles County–University of Southern California Hospital, unaffectionately known as "Big County."

It was big.

Really big.

In fact, you've probably seen the building (below)

because it's often used at the beginning of hospital–type TV shows.

FunFact: it's got more square footage than any single building west of the Mississippi River.

Anyway, on day one of my internship, June 24 being the particular day of the year that traditionally launches that trial, my first resident (sounds a bit like "My First Mister," doesn't it? But I digress) showed me how to keep track of my patients.

You took some blank index cards, then stamped one up top with one of your patients' plastic hospital ID cards that were kept in a little rack at the nursing station.

One card, one patient.

Under the stamp that contained their hospital ID number and date of birth — critical info for getting test and X-ray results — you put down their history, briefly noting key stuff like date admitted, allergies, test results, tests to be ordered, scut work needed, odds and ends like the phone number of a lab that was doing something on the patient, etc.

One patient, one card.

Simple.

When you transferred or discharged a patient you tossed the card.

We didn't use binder clips though: we liked to travel light.

So, all this time has passed and now on www.43folders.com, one of the sites Weber mentioned in his article, a debate rages about the merits of the old index card system.

The Hipster works great: the memory is non–volatile, data entry is easy, the cost is negligible if not free, and battery life is forever.

It's also light and if you lose it, no big deal: you can create another in about 15 seconds that will work every bit as well.

I use a modified Hipster when I do my occasional week of role–playing as an anesthesiologist in the multi–user hospital game that takes place in Richmond.

I like lined yellow index cards now, with the lines running across the narrow dimension; I use a paper clip rather than a binder clip because of the weight factor and also the streamlined look it gives me in my scrubs.

Funny, as an intern I didn't use a paper clip — must've been because of the thicker stack of cards I had then and the fact that I was shuffling through them constantly.

Life is much better now, thank you very much.