Doctor’s Day was Monay March 30. For the first time in decades…it passed quietly.
No schedule built around clinic. No patients. No spending time with my nurse or staff. Just another day. I have to admit, it felt a little strange.
Over the past month, I’ve been slowly stepping away from medicine after more than 3 decades. Not abruptly, but in pieces. I knew after retiring, things would change. I expected it. But it still seemed strange when it was all coming at once. A letter arrived this week stating I no longer have privileges at Prairie Lakes. I no longer get emails. My picture on the wall is down. Tuesday night Prairie Lakes had a celebration for Doctor’s Day. I went with Sarah as her +1. After years of being Doctor Dan, I have been promoted to “+1”. It was strange, but it was good! I still got to go, yet I had no other responsibilities in relation to medicine. None of these moments are dramatic on their own. But together, they carry a quiet message: That chapter is over. And even when it’s the right decision–and I believe it is–there’s still something in the process in that realization.

Medicine has a way of becoming more than a career: It becomes part of how you see yourself. Part of how others see you. Part of how your days are structured, how your mind works, how you carry your responsibility. For years, I woke up knowing there were people who needed me that day. Now, the only one who consistently needs me in the morning is the coffee pot…and even that feels optional some days. Doctor’s day gave me a chance to reflect on the privilege of caring for others. This week, it became something different. It became a moment to look back.

I thought about the thousands of patient encounters over the years. The conversations. The diagnoses. The uncertainty. The trust that patients placed in me–something I never took lightly. I thought about the colleagues I worked alongside, the teams we built, the systems we tried to improve. And I thought about how much medicine shaped me, not just as a physician, but as a person. But I also realized something else. Doctor’s Day isn’t really about recognition. It’s about remembrance. Remembrance of the privilege it is to be invited into someone’s life at a moment when they need help. That doesn’t go away when the title does. This past year, being on the other side of the stethoscope again–dealing with my own health issues, and Sarah’s, has reminded me of that in a deeper way. It’s one thing to care for patients. It’s another to sit in a waiting room, to wait for answers, to rely on others. That perspective changes you. It also gives you a new appreciation for the phrase, “This may take a few minutes”.

So yes–this Doctor’s Day was different. Quieter. More reflective. Maybe even a little emotional. But it also felt…complete. Not in a sense of being finished, but in a sense of being fulfilled. I may not practice medicine anymore. But I will always be grateful that I had the opportunity to do it. And I will always carry what it taught me. Sometimes, the most meaningful chapters of life don’t end with a big moment. They end quietly. And maybe that’s exactly how they’re meant to.

So, for now, I focus on the things in my life that are the most important. My family. My health. Learning new things and taking on different adventures, whether these adventures occur at home or away. My daughter Megan had a word for her life for this year: Patience. Next week I will talk about my word for the year. So, take care of yourselves. Strive to Survive. Keep moving everybody!

Dr. Dan

Consecutive Exercise Day of Newest streak: # 767