Jordan Grumet is an internal medicine physician, host of the Earn & Invest Podcast, and author of Taking Stock: A Hospice Doctor’s Advice on Financial Independence, Building Wealth, and Living a Regret-Free Life.
He has worked in academic as well as private practices, served as medical director of several nursing homes, and created palliative care programs for skilled nursing facilities.
He is a writer and storyteller who has been published in Medical Economics, the Pharos, the Annals of Internal Medicine, and the Journal of General Internal Medicine. His book, I Am Your Doctor And This Is My Humble Opinion, was published in 2015, and followed by Five Moments: Short Works of Fiction in 2017.
Jordan shares his stories at conferences nationwide, highlighted by an acclaimed performance at the dotMD conference in Dublin, Ireland.
Jordan speaks about the following topics:
He is a member of Physician Speaking by KevinMD and is available for speaking opportunities. Please contact us for inquiries.
Jordan Grumet is an internal medicine physician, host of the Earn & Invest Podcast, and author of Taking Stock: A Hospice Doctor's Advice on Financial Independence, Building Wealth, and Living a Regret-Free Life.
He has worked in academic as well as private practices, served as medical director of several nursing homes, and created palliative care programs for skilled nursing facilities.
He is a writer and storyteller who has been published in Medical Economics, the Pharos, the Annals of Internal Medicine, and the Journal of General Internal Medicine. His book, I Am Your Doctor And This Is My Humble Opinion, was published in 2015, and followed by Five Moments: Short Works of Fiction in 2017.
Jordan shares his stories at conferences nationwide, highlighted by an acclaimed performance at the dotMD conference in Dublin, Ireland.
Jordan speaks about the following topics:
He is a member of Physician Speaking by KevinMD and is available for speaking opportunities. Please contact us for inquiries.
We finally broke down and bought floaties. The kids played for a few days in the shallows, but since neither of them are yet proficient swimmers, they dared not wander into deeper waters. Each day they watched as younger kids scooted around the pool wearing wing like contraptions colored with cartoon characters.
I never liked the idea of floaties. Much better, I thought, to let them struggle and build on the …
Nothing is more delicious to the eyes of a five year old girl then the shimmering, metallic glare of a Zippo lighter. So when her Mom ran over to the neighbors to borrow some sugar, she climbed up the rickety kitchen cabinets and stood on her tip toes in order to reach the top shelf and pilfer the object of her desire.
After tripping clumsily back down, she sprinted to the …
I cradled my son’s miniature body in my hands. Only moments old, he looked up with large glassy eyes. He was so alert, so perfect. I carried him over to the bedside. The obstetrician worked on the afterbirth as my wife waited patiently to hold her child.
At the time, it hadn’t sunken in yet how much our solitary lives were changing. The nurses swept the baby away for routine testing …
Dr. Lake used to be a businessman. His books were clean and orderly. His staff was efficient and kind. He steered his ship agilely through troubled waters and still managed to provide the highest quality care. His was not only physician but small business owner. He was proud.
As the political climate changed, Dr. Lake became more distressed concerning his situation. His overhead was increasing and the regulatory culture was expanding. …
Suzie remembers what it felt like to be fifteen. She can still hear the creek of the steps leading to the third floor and the quaint finished bedroom that housed her grandmother that fateful summer.
Originally, Grandma was set to move into the small room next to Suzie’s parents. But after his first night in the attic, Billy refused to set foot up there again. So Dad lovingly wrapped Grandma in …
There was nothing the professor despised more then the syrup that oozed out of his partner’s lips when dealing with patients. He often cringed as he walked by the examining room and imagined the hand holding that was taking place behind closed doors.
Privately, they argued about the different approaches. One saw the world in terms of black and white, while the other was steeped in a foggy haze of gray. …
The orders came indirectly from the government.
Reduce hospital re-admissions. Cut costs.
So, the hospital contacted the local hospice-palliative care center and asked for help. Of course, overwhelmed with work and understaffed, the project was handed off to me.
My task sounded simple. Create a palliative care program at the nursing home. But as I gathered for the first meeting with the administrator, social worker, and clinical staff, I knew there would be …
There is a time for sitting in classrooms. When such heady topics as congestive heart failure are abstract and intangible. Discussion veers from myocytes to cardiac output and stroke volume.
The world, through the student’s eyes, is inflamed with passion and opportunity. The reality of doctoring is a distant dream. Hope peals back layers of fear and loss of confidence. Reward is imagined as a handshake, a return to health, and …
You know Mr. Miller?
I adjusted the phone on my ear as I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom. I tiptoed across the floor and winced as the old hardwood started to creek beneath my feet. I craned my head and listened for signs of stirring children.
Remembering the resident holding on the line, I whispered into the cell.
Yeah. What about him? He had a choleycystectomy this morning.
I waited …
Two weeks ago I told a man that he was dying. We sat together in the mid afternoon haze. Puffs of snow meandered by the hospital window and wended their way down to the ground. The sun was lost behind winter’s never ending clouds.
The tempo of my voice was steady, lacking variation in tenor and pitch. I clung to my lab coat as if I was floating outside the window …
Sonia struggled to express herself through broken English. Her lively facial expressions and exuberance betrayed by her inability to string the words together fluently. One hand gesticulated widely while the other rested gently on the elderly woman’s hair.
She somehow managed to coo quietly in her companions ear, calming her, as she continued the conversation with me. Sonia’s eyes opened and closed in an exaggerated blinking manner as she questioned me …
Chief of Medicine
Evanston Hospital
October 23, 2005
To whom it may concern,
I would like to take a moment to express my deep displeasure with one of the interactions I had with a physician in the Church Street location. I use the term “interaction” loosely since the doctor in question, Dr. Jordan, never actually saw me. Apparently he was too busy.
Last Thursday I was shopping in downtown Evanston when I felt the sudden …
As I walked up the stairs I thought about the history of the building I was about to enter. Although the foundation was the same, almost everything else had changed. The hallways were updated. The patient rooms decked out with comfortable furniture and fancy televisions. I even marveled at the bathroom as I answered nature’s calling. I could have been in a fancy hotel.
Yes. Things were different than when I …
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I don’t know when I lost my sentimentality.
Whaaap.
With a thud the fish stops flopping up and down. It lays still on the floor of the boat. My camp counselor, a tanned college student, carefully places the paddle on the seat and cuts the fishing line. The hook remains dangling from the lifeless mouth.
He grabs the fish with his bare hand and throws it back into the water. He talks slightly …
As I sit down to drink coffee tomorrow morning and type away at the computer, I will do something quite uncomfortable for a non-religious person.
I will pray.
I will pray that my children make it safely to school
That the weather is good and the sidewalks are not slick.
That their feet will be steady and their minds alert to the dangers that lurk in any suburban neighborhood.
That my wife will have an excellent day.
That …
I mean it is kind of lonely being your doctor. I picture it as sort of a covenant. Between you and I.
On one side you. And your family. And friends. Your house and your dogs. Your communities and lives.
On the other side me. Alone. Of course there is always the hospital, but were really not friends. My partners and specialists. They all make an appearance. But when the going gets …
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The recycling container was already full. But I had two more bags to stow before lugging the bin through the gate and into the front yard for pick up. My button down shirt untidy and bulging out from the waist. My long khaki pants felt like a fur coat in the ninety plus Chicago humidity. It was 4pm and I had just arrived home from work, dropped my computer in …
The edges of Cameron’s lips rise undeniably toward the clear blue sky. His legs move methodically. One motionless on the scooter and the other periodically kicking to propel himself forward. He weaves in and out dodging my shadow as I jog beside him.
I struggle to keep pace. My breathing unsteady and labored. My joints aching. And my brain foggy from lack of sleep and replaying the events of the day.
***
The …
If death was the end zone, George had been on the one yard line twice in the last five years. And I, as part of his team of doctors, watched as he stubbornly maintained his goal line stand. Miracles rarely happen in medicine. They certainly don’t happen to the same person more then once.
Yesterday as George glided into my office you would have never known that eternity’s grip had been …
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It takes its toll on me, being a doctor.
I think as I wait in the Indian restaurant buffet. My son is curled on my lap. Uncharacteristically tired. Later he will develop a fever and I will realize why he is so warn out.
It takes it toll on me. I wouldn’t say I am a stressed out person but I certainly live with stress. Most of it is self inflicted.
It’s …
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