1 of 13
I got accepted to a medical school on Friday.
All the hand-wringing over the money I'd taken out in loans, all the hours I'd spent studying organic chemistry and cellular biology, all the tears over MCAT and the anxieties about my applications... all of that seemed so silly and inconsequential all of a sudden. Why had I been so worried? Of course I was going to get in. Such a waste of time, all that worrying.
Of course, I know that hard work is what put that letter into my hands; it didn't just happen. I think what I was actually feeling when I tore open that envelope and read "We are very pleased to welcome you..." was more just the relief I felt knowing that I didn't need a backup plan now. I am going to be a doctor, and I'm going to start becoming one in seven months.
When I was accepted into the postbacc program I felt like only time stood between me and that white coat. Then I found out how hard it is to get into medical school. They don't really tell you that upfront. There are several good, smart students -- with straight-As and interesting backgrounds and good essay-writing skills -- who never make it past the med school interview process.
I remember going to Drew's apartment one day after a postbacc meeting and saying "maybe this isn't going to happen." The first of many such anxious statements which I'm sure he quickly grew annoyed with. But it was such a revelation to me to think that maybe some of the choices I had made up to that point (moving from job to job with no clear direction, smoking so much pot, waiting so long to go back to school) really would stand in my way. I might not even get a chance to defend myself or to turn things around. It seemed so crazy to think that my ability to make so drastic a change in my life might have just... expired. It might have passed.
I don't think I was wrong to feel that way. I think it was good that I was so aware of it, and that I crafted my essays to fend off those kinds of criticisms. And it was good that I applied to a school that openly courts career-changers and people with non-science backgrounds.
I'd be very excited to go to this school. I've watched their "Welcome to ______" video four times. And teared up at all the appropriate moments. I'm waiting on answers from twelve other schools. Hopefully I'll have some choices by Spring, but regardless of what happens next, no other admissions letter could give me that same feeling again.
It felt really, really good.
All the hand-wringing over the money I'd taken out in loans, all the hours I'd spent studying organic chemistry and cellular biology, all the tears over MCAT and the anxieties about my applications... all of that seemed so silly and inconsequential all of a sudden. Why had I been so worried? Of course I was going to get in. Such a waste of time, all that worrying.
Of course, I know that hard work is what put that letter into my hands; it didn't just happen. I think what I was actually feeling when I tore open that envelope and read "We are very pleased to welcome you..." was more just the relief I felt knowing that I didn't need a backup plan now. I am going to be a doctor, and I'm going to start becoming one in seven months.
When I was accepted into the postbacc program I felt like only time stood between me and that white coat. Then I found out how hard it is to get into medical school. They don't really tell you that upfront. There are several good, smart students -- with straight-As and interesting backgrounds and good essay-writing skills -- who never make it past the med school interview process.
I remember going to Drew's apartment one day after a postbacc meeting and saying "maybe this isn't going to happen." The first of many such anxious statements which I'm sure he quickly grew annoyed with. But it was such a revelation to me to think that maybe some of the choices I had made up to that point (moving from job to job with no clear direction, smoking so much pot, waiting so long to go back to school) really would stand in my way. I might not even get a chance to defend myself or to turn things around. It seemed so crazy to think that my ability to make so drastic a change in my life might have just... expired. It might have passed.
I don't think I was wrong to feel that way. I think it was good that I was so aware of it, and that I crafted my essays to fend off those kinds of criticisms. And it was good that I applied to a school that openly courts career-changers and people with non-science backgrounds.
I'd be very excited to go to this school. I've watched their "Welcome to ______" video four times. And teared up at all the appropriate moments. I'm waiting on answers from twelve other schools. Hopefully I'll have some choices by Spring, but regardless of what happens next, no other admissions letter could give me that same feeling again.
It felt really, really good.
Labels: Drew, Medical School, Postbacc Program
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home