Sarah Bachand

                                                                             I grew up thinking that my mother knew it all. She even knew when I pretended to take a bath while I sat on the washing machine reading a book.  She knew I would step in mud with my brand-new white shoes. I hid them in my closet the second I came home, only to find her standing right there as soon as I closed the door. She told me I'd have to wear my winter boots all summer long! We could not get anything past her, and I thought I would one day officially know everything, just like she did. When I was 19 years old, I moved to Australia, hitchhiked through the Canadian Rockies and then Africa and Central America.  Malaria almost sent me to my grave in Zimbabwe back in the pre-Internet era... Now that I hav...

Je n'ai plus de médecin depuis plusieurs années. Après quelques années d'attente, j'appartiens enfin à un groupe de médecins. J'ai vu un médecin pour la première fois après 7 ans d'attente. J'ai découvert l'astuce pour avoir un rendez-vous plus rapidement via le GAP : il faut mentionner qu'on doit faire renouveler un médicament. Pourquoi ? Parce que lorsqu'on appelle le GAP, on ne peut mentionner qu'un problème ! Lors du rendez-vous, on croise les doigts pour glisser un autre sujet de discussion. Le rendez-vous est efficace, mais c'est dommage : les chances que je revoie ce même médecin sont minces. Je devrai recommencer mon histoire à chaque fois. On me prescrit un bilan sanguin et mes médicaments pour la thyroïde. Quelques mois plus tard, on me laisse un message vocal m'avisant de reprendre rendez-vous afin de refaire des bilans. J'appelle entre deux patientes au boulot. On me répète que mon appel est important, mais je suis la cinq...

  I Keep Thinking About I keep thinking about whether I am where I should be. It’s not a heavy thought, not one rooted in dissatisfaction. It’s quieter than that. More like a steady hum in the background of my days. Could I do better? Live fuller?  Get more education? Perhaps practice some meditation? Be a better mom? Am I fully there when they open up? And somewhere in between all those questions sits another one: Am I enough? The answer, I think, is yes. But the question still lingers. Because seeing my value doesn’t cancel out the desire to grow. I know who I am—I am driven, dedicated, empathetic. I care deeply. I also know I can be rigid and demanding, especially with myself. Lately, I’ve also been thinking about friendship. How much I love my friends. How much those connections matter. And yet, how easily I retreat into my own space. Because the truth is, I love being home. I love the quiet. The feeling that nothing is being asked of me. It’s where I reset, where I just ...

After a bit of a dry spell, I’ve been trying to return to writing—one small exercise at a time. This is what came out of today. It’s Easter Sunday today, and before getting ready for my usual ritual of starting the day with a long run, my motherly duties had an extra task. I hid chocolates around the house before my young adult girls woke up. I got ready for my run. It was raining. I pushed my start time by an hour, hoping it would stop. My app said it would. But it didn’t. The goal was simply time on my feet. No pace goals. The most important goal: don’t get injured. As I laced up my shoes in the garage, I could hear the rain. I started my watch and went. As I lost myself in my thoughts, I felt the rain on my face. My coat grew heavier, my pants soaked through. I was completely in the moment—at peace, in a good place. I like running in the rain, and I found myself wondering why I had hoped it would stop. The weather could not have been more perfect. After a long stretch of injury, I...