Bosco’s, But Really It’s About Health Care Reform

I’m not a very political person. I don’t even vote. Yet. But you know what? Former Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist told me that he didn’t either until he became a resident in surgery. So I still got time…to write about food.

I went to Bosco’s Brewery in Hillboro Village a long while ago. For some unknown reason, I like to order catfish sandwiches. Now that I think about it, though, I think it’s the confluence of being in the South, my fondness of spices and fried food, and my nostalgia for McD’s fillet-o-fishes that lead me to order catfish/fish sandwiches at many of the restaurants along 21st Ave. This one, if I remember, was pretty good. Fried and/or blackened is a pretty standard method of fish preparation in the South, and one can rarely screw that up.

As for the beer: well, beer is beer; beer is good. I don’t know how long their seasonal brews last, or if the brews I got were from their summer repertoire, but one can generally expect a good recommendation from their waitstaff.

As for health care reform, I think I’ve spent the last couple of days thinking more about the reform bill than I have about food, which is an abnormality in my daily routine. I don’t know why I worry about it though, no matter how much people (whether they be actually knowledgeable about medicine and health care, or just politicians) oppose this bill, it’s going to get passed by reconciliation in two weeks, and then I can say goodbye to a good portion of my future salary. And health care in America won’t be any better than it is now. There will just be a lot more pissed off specialists practicing then. I also don’t know why I’m airing out my frustration online. I just wish there were more doctors involved with this process like Dr. Frist. He’s the man.

Bosco’s Brewery

Hillsboro Village

Nashville, TN

Sportsman’s

Back in college, I watched Grey’s Anatomy and was all into it like nobody’s bisnazz. Then there was the episode where the code black was called and the bomb exploded in the hospital but no one left the hospital because only the SWAT team guy died, and no Meredith. Suspension of disbelief: SHATTERED. Nevertheless, I was still a naive teenager when I watched the show, and romanticized the life of the surgeon: performing surgery, saving lives, and then going to the local bar where all the other doctors gathered after work to down a couple beers with all my MD buddies after a hard day’s work. I believed that was the surgeon’s life. It was awesome.

Now that I’m a few weeks into my third year of medical school, living a similar life style to real doctors, I now know that my romanticized, school-boyish dream is not how real life is. Life is tough. Not just omgIhavetowork9to5MondaytoFriday tough, but OMFGWTFIhavetowork6AMto7PMsixdaysaweek tough. Plus call schedules. And I’m not even on my surgery rotation. Just how am I supposed to have the energy and money (I am paying $40k this year to work in the hospital) to knock back a couple brewskies with my residents and attendings? Not to mention time?

Revelation: real life is not like TV. Nobody finishes work at the hospital before 5pm, unless you’re post-call, in which case you will be going home to recoup your 30+hour sleep debt. Everyone else finishes after 5pm, and from what I’ve observed, goes home to their families. They don’t go to the bar after work. Scrubs and white coats don’t flood the bar for happy hour. And maybe that’s a good thing. Patients would probably shit bricks seeing their doctors chugging beers at the bar. Probably. At least that’s what all my hours in patient-centered classes in my first two year of medical school would lead me to believe.

So there is no “hospital bar” where all the doctors hang out after work. That kind of blows. But Sportsman’s is the closest thing there is to my romanticized fantasies of youth. At least that’s how my friends and I treat it. Not that we go there everyday and drink, but it’s a suitable option whenever we want to gather for an impromptu dinner with a beer or two. Since the only other patrons are…actually, I have no idea what the other patrons do–but they’re not doctors, and they’re not students. Anyway, I don’t feel like a tool when I’m there with a white coat or scrubs.

The menu itself is unapologetically mainstream: burgers, salads, chicken. They somehow have the same fried catfish dish at two different prices, too. I’ve even heard stories of failed health inspection tests. But I don’t go there for the food. You may want to decide for yourself if you want to go there food, too. However, I will still go, just because they have 2-for-1 beer specials and it’s an ideal hangout spot during 3rd year. Also, it’s the closest bar to the hospital–I’m not counting Vanderbilt’s undergrad pub because I would definitely feel like a tool going there in scrubs and all. So…yeah…Sportsman’s is “aight.”

Sportsman’s

Nashville

Step 1 (Of My Life)

I have to go on hiatus (and into hiding) for a few weeks. My board exams are coming up at the end of June. For the uninitiated, the board exam scores plays a GINORMOUS part in determining the specialty and residency program you go into–basically your career.

So yeah…I gotta take it seriously.

I was going to post on The Patterson House and House of Kabob, but instead, I’ll do teensy tiny blurbs on them:

The Patterson House lives up to the ridonculous hype machine, fueled by kindling such as the Nashville Scene, Rage, and Metromix. I did find out, however, that what was written was almost entirely inaccurate, thus proving that such weekly papers are indeed useful as kindling, and not much else. It’s surprising how much you can learn by just asking the friendly staff there. It’s also how I was able to answer my friends’ questions when they came with me, and how I became part of the hype machine. While I don’t want to be a hype-monger, the place is good for drinks and some quick bites. I’m only a tiny bit worried about going broke from eating there.

House of Kabob is quite a drive, out into no-man’s-ville, er…Nolensville, but it’s good. I wish I got more meat and veggies in addition to the dune of fluffy white rice. Yes, I know I’m greedy. I don’t care. If I had more time, I’d go there. But if you read the first paragraph, you’d know that I don’t. Oh well. You can go, though.

And that’s it! I’ll be back in a month or so, likely in the form of some degenerate sub-species of human being, not quite capable of carrying a conversation anymore, much less type (funny) blog posts. But hopefully I’ll be one smart 8-hour-test-taking machine!