Medicine Isn’t Takeout – So Why Are We Treating It Like It Is
Written by Dr Nick on February 17, 2026
Years ago, I was driving across states with a good friend and colleague from Spain. We stopped in at a gas station that had a Subway restaurant on the side. When my Spanish colleague was asked if he wanted his sandwich “To Go,” he looked at me quizzically and asked what they meant (he spoke excellent English). When I explained, he asked why anyone would do that. Food is meant to be enjoyed. Lunch is lunch, not something to do while driving, or anything else for that matter.
I was reminded of this in France, where the same principles apply. Have you ever tried to order takeout food in France? En français c’est: “Emporter”. Good luck. You will likely be met with blank stares and a look as if you’d asked a Michelin-starred chef to microwave a Hot Pocket. In the United States, takeout is the lifeblood of the nation. We have drive-thru windows for coffee, apps for groceries, and we expect everything to be ready yesterday. We’ve optimized the joy of eating into a transaction of pure efficiency.
In many ways, we’ve done the same thing to healthcare.
We have built the most advanced, high-speed “takeout” medical system in the world. We’ve mastered the art of the quick visit, the rapid diagnosis, and the algorithmic prescription. But here’s the problem: healthcare isn’t a hamburger. And your doctor isn’t a short-order cook. We treat medicine and in particular, the human body as a fast food ticket, and guess what the people running the kitchen (and every other part of the delivery mechanism) are utterly exhausted
Medicine is Complex
Just like French cuisine, good medicine requires time. It requires a chef, your doctor, to taste the sauce, check the seasoning, and adjust the recipe based on a decade or more of training. But today, American physicians aren’t spending their time cooking, they are drowning in paperwork.
Have you noticed how every year the menu gets more complex with new discoveries, new side effects, more data and sadly way too many influencers peddling mis/dis information. The patient is no longer a simple ‘order’ or clinical problem but is made up of a lifetime of genetic predispositions, lab results, and social determinants of health. All the while, we insist on faster service.
This is why the kitchen is breaking down. Burnout among healthcare professionals is at an all-time high. They spend more time typing notes into Electronic Health Records (EHRs) than they do looking their patients in the eye. They are the overworked line cooks of a 24-hour diner, trying to plate a Michelin-star meal.
Administrivia
So, how do we fix the kitchen? Do we ask the chefs to work faster? Do we hand them bigger menus?
No. We need to automate small, discreet, repeatable tasks that can and should be done automatically, like the fry station.
This is where Agentic AI shines. Unlike the clunky software of the past that just added more screens to click through, Agentic AI acts like a sous-chef who actually knows what they’re doing.
Imagine an AI that doesn’t just store data, but proactively organizes it. Before a patient even enters the room, an Agentic AI has scoured their chart, summarized the relevant history from the last five years, pulled up the latest research on their specific conditions, and pre-filled the insurance prior-authorization forms.
It can also handle the “takeout” side of the transaction. The billing, the scheduling, the administrivia, so the clinician and his support staff can focus on the human being in front of them.
This isn’t about replacing the chef; it’s about giving them their knives back. And really good knives that Gordon Ramsay would be proud of. It’s about peeling away the administrative onion that makes doctors cry tears of frustration, layer by layer.
Bring the Bistro Back
We don’t need a healthcare system that moves at the speed of a fast-food drive-thru. We need one that moves at the speed of trust.
By deploying Agentic AI to handle the background chaos. You know that endless data sorting and regulatory compliance, and shifting goal posts. Meanwhile, we allow physicians to slow down. We let them return to the “bistro” model of care.
Thoughtful, present, and deliberate.
In the end, the goal isn’t efficiency for efficiency’s sake. It’s about restoring the art of medicine. It’s about ensuring that when you sit down with your doctor, they aren’t thinking about the six other orders they have to prep. They are thinking about you.
And that is a meal worth waiting for and if the collection of happy customers and staff we saw was anything to go by, good for all concerned
