Editor’s Page: Anthony Bourdain I Am Not

I used to love traveling for work. In my 20s, there was nothing better than having my job fly me out to a city I’d never visited.

It made me feel professional. It made me feel important. It made me feel alive.

Whenever a seatmate on the plane would ask the ubiquitous “business or pleasure” question, I’d nonchalantly reply “business,” before adding some asinine comment like, “sometimes the travel part is a little rough, but it’s part of the gig, you know?” Inside, however, I was buzzing with an excitement that even a few tiny bottles of Delta’s finest Cabernet couldn’t blunt. I couldn’t wait to spend every non-working second I had exploring lesser-known parts of New Orleans, Chicago, San Diego, Austin and the half dozen other cities on the conference circuit. While my colleagues sat at the hotel bar complaining “there was nothing to do in [Insert city where there was plenty to do],” I was out there in the world proving them dead wrong.

I liked to pretend I was an Anthony Bourdain of sorts. Except instead of an effortlessly cool icon whizzing through the crowded streets of Vietnam in search of the perfect bowl of noodles, I was a khacki-clad square cautiously negotiating downtown Nashville on an electric scooter, hoping to find some local-approved hot chicken. What can I say, I’ve never had any trouble suspending my own disbelief.

Somewhere along the way, my Bourdainesque spirit began to fade. Two decades plus of regularly visiting Orlando tends to do that. Back in February, I went to the AAOS Conference in San Francisco, and I drifted so far from the adventure-seeking 20-something I used to be that I was nearly unrecognizable. Let me paint you a picture: I’m sitting in my hotel room one evening going over my notes and relistening to my interview for an upcoming story on OAS CAHPS — this month’s cover story — and instead of going out for dinner, I consider ordering takeout from, god forgive me, Papa Johns! Can you imagine?

It was something I heard in the interview that pulled me out of my pity party. AMSURG’s Brooke Blackwell and Jennifer Cantrell, our cover story authors, were both going out their way to drive home the point that OAS CAHPS shouldn’t be seen as a time-consuming, stress-inducing burden. Instead, leaders should look at the 2025 Medicare patient survey requirement as a golden opportunity.

Why in the world would anyone in their right mind do that? You’ll need to read the story on page 16 to find out. As for me, the words of AMSURG’s power duo were just what I needed.

I changed my perspective, remembered exactly how fortunate I was to spend time face to face with the top orthopods from across the country (and the world) and went to work. I made meaningful connections with future magazine contributors that would’ve taken months to build virtually. And in the downtime? I met up with my freshman year college roommate, whom I hadn’t seen in years, and spent hours rehashing stories of our past adventures. The business travel these days will be less about adventure and more about work. I gave up that fantasy. Anthony Bourdain I am not. OSM