Hi, I'm Matthew.

Orthopedic surgeon. Teacher. Reluctant writer.

I practice orthopedic surgery in Wisconsin with Advocate Aurora Health. I did my fellowship in sports medicine, I'm board-certified, and my week looks like most orthopedic surgeons' weeks. Clinic, OR, call, repeat.

What's different is how I spend my evenings.

In second grade, I wrote an assignment that said I wanted to be an orthopedic surgeon when I grew up. Fix broken bones, fix dislocated joints. My mom saved the paper. I still have it.

What I didn't know at seven years old is that the surgery is often the easier part. The harder part is what happens after. The conversations in clinic where a patient nods politely and leaves more confused than when they came in. The rehab plan that falls apart in week three because no one explained why the exercises matter. The CME lecture that checks a box but doesn't change how anyone practices on Monday.

That's the gap I'm trying to close.

For my patients, I started building courses because I got tired of watching people leave the clinic with a printed handout they'd never read. I'd spend fifteen minutes explaining their MRI and the next day they'd call the office with the same question. Not because they weren't paying attention. Because medical explanations are written in a language most people don't speak.

For my colleagues, I started building CME because I've sat through enough accredited lectures to last a career. My first course, Mind Over Motion: Sports Psychology and Psychiatry for the Clinician, is accredited through the Postgraduate Institute for Medicine. It's built for the clinicians who see athletes first—orthopedic surgeons, sports medicine docs, PAs, NPs, PTs, athletic trainers, and the mental health professionals who end up treating the downstream damage when the first three miss what's happening.

There's more coming. Ethics for PTs. Orthobiologics. A course on post-concussion care I've been outlining in the margins of a notebook for about a year.