This month marks being done with a lot of things.  

 

After 6 months of being on a bit of a sabbatical from clinical care, I am coming back to practice.  I am done with my sabbatical and will regularly be seeing patients again.  But I am also done with being in full-time clinical practice.  My sabbatical reflected for me that I am my best when I am blending teaching and clinical practice, and when I am dedicated to learning, writing, and changing my brain.

 

I am also done with this certain stage of grief that I have been in for the last 2 years. I was with a tennis friend the other day and made some comment about how I have been putting in time, and really seeing the change and the growth.  I have gotten a lot better.  She said, matter-of-factly and bluntly (as she does), "Well, your best friend isn't dying anymore." 

 

And it kind of stopped me for a second.  I had been living in this swell of grief for awhile, and not regretfully.  It has so completely changed my living to be affected by her dying and death.   Still, without even realizing it, the shroud has been slipping off.  

 

Though I may be done with these phases (for now), I am not dOne.  

 

Some years ago, could have been 12 years by now, I was down the shore (code for: at the beach in New Jersey) with my family.  JP, my sis, and her bestie (a sister from another mister) were all playing Scrabble as nerdy people do on a beach vacation. 

 

My sister put down a word spelled D-O-N-E.  I was looking at the board upside down and said,"Done [pronounced with a long-O]? That's not a word."  JP then encouraged me to challenge it.  Actually, he taunted me. Mercilessly.  "What kind of word is that?!" "Can you even use that in a sentence?!" "She's just making stuff up. Call her on it."

 

If you know him, this is not shocking.  And if you know us, it's also not shocking that I took the bait.  

 

So I grabbed the dictionary, like a triumphant fool, and rushed to look up 'Done.'  And came upon the definition you would all expect to find for a completely mundane word.  Because I was looking up 'done' with a long-O. 

 

As I read the definition, the three of them burst into fits of giggles.  Like actually dying of laughter.  Falling out of chairs, tears streaming, couldn't catch their breaths except to tell me how f$%*ing ridiculous I am. And I think that went on for at least 20 minutes. I felt pretty stupid. Embarrassed. Like I didn't even know myself.  Seriously?!!! I mean, what on earth happened to my brain?!! 

 

More importantly, I was dOne.  I had been on-call for years straight.  Not just one night on, two nights off; but on-call for 2 years non-stop.  I was fried. Crispy.  Busted.  Done.  dOne. 

 

I know full well what happened to my brain; I freaking lost it.  

 

Since then, I recognize that feeling.  The crispy, dOne feeling.  And I pay very close attention to it.  A small gift inadvertently received.  

 

So I pass this gift along to you: dOne.  This one, simple word has gone down in infamy.  Everyone in my family, my framily, and extended network knows it.  We use it well.  It's part of common parlance in my world.  For when you are fried to a crisp, and not a moment more of pushing or doing will amount to anything good for anyone.  

 

You already know what that feels like.  Now you have a word for it.  To give that feeling a voice and presence, to have it matter.  And to do absolutely nothing about it other than be done and dOne.  Enjoy!