There—
The 18th arrondissement; the foot of Montmartre
In my sparkly sequin sassy sailors that seemed “too much”
Until we arrived at the Moulin Rouge
Sipping chardonnay
Eyes gazing over the mezzanine transfixed by the orchestra
Between the cancan and the cabaret
Among the plumed fans, rhinestones, and feathers
Part of the revue, I found myself
There
Here
Advocating
That naloxone alone is not enough
That our policies fail in reflecting the needs of our community
Pleading across negotiator tables
To a minister of fleeting power
Yet the power remains stagnant—maybe immune—to change
What words, what evidence will break the shackles of convincing
So people do not fall through the cracks of addiction
Landing in the emergency room
In my care,
Here
There—
A 20-year electrifying journey
With my favorite lyricist; artist of the century
With my best friends, sentimental,
Heart shaped hands, sparkly boots,
Chills at the vividness, dancers in purple dresses
The harmonious back-up vocals
The mastermind behind the checkered stage
Timeless ATWTMVTVFTV
Fan-centric beauty; a cultural event
In awe: “It was rare, I was
There”
Here—
“He’s going to go” my preceptor tells me
As the sun is rising on the liver skyline
A quiet, golden death—the first one I witness firsthand
An inevitable consequence
The vulnerabilities of his children scrutinizing the ultrasound screen
Hoping his heart would communicate hope
Instead, stillness becomes heavy
And my only competence is to sit simply and be, to have my presence convey
I am
Here
I am Here
Because I have let myself be there
Where There, I can root myself
In strong and steady joy
With friends and family and experiences
To see things on the outside
As simple as a hillside winery
A spontaneous castle
The waves of the French Riveria
Christmas Eve seafood night
And Chase the Ace
I am Here, able to be, because I have been
There
I am There
So that I can be Here
Not a workhorse for a crumbling system
But a musician who takes breaks
To fine tune and rest
So that I can keep the melody continuous
Like an orchestra of healing
Between sadness and strife
I can be reminded of the breath that is needed
Between each patient
Finding appreciation in
Journeys, adventurous and empathetic recovery
Without completely unravelling
My strings
Being fully present
Grounded
Wherever I am
A distance that heals me
So I can return to whole heartedness:
My profession—My compassion—My rhythm of care
Simply,
I will go There to fill up my cup
So I can be Here to pour out my love
—Kacie Kushniruk, MPH
College of Medicine, University of Saskatchewan (MD Class of 2026)
This post has been peer reviewed by the BCMJ Editorial Board.
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