The road to medical school... "Are we there yet?"

Rejection sucks and to be rejected by 30 medical schools really sucks, in fact it's demoralizing. As if it weren't enough the first time around I've come begging for an ample helping of seconds (although the rejections have yet to start flowing in). Sometimes I feel this whole process is just making me plain deranged. I’m a grown-up still forced to sit at the kiddy table. But guess what? It really doesn't matter because I have an interview to Creighton University School of Medicine Baby! It's my time to shine... to really show adcoms that I've got what it takes to be fantastic physician... 'cause damn Skippy I sure as hell do!

So here I am, twenty-six, idle (from here on out referred to as "reflective"), contemplating why I chose medicine above all the other more glamorous career choices out there. Uh…Why? Am I "reflecting" by choice? Partially. Mostly I'm being forced to reflect. Forced by an upcoming medical school interview (which by the way I HAVE to rock or stab myself to death with a dull spoon. Ouch.), forced by the silent treatment that I'm getting from every other medical school, and forced by my boyfriend who is barely two months into his M1 year at UVM and has to pencil in time to just breathe. Can you say respiratory acidosis? Anyone....? [crickets]

I'm twenty-six years old (can you tell I'm feeling old?) and I'm taking yet another year off. High school classmates are finding themselves in their fourth and final year of medical school, applying to residency programs while I struggle just to get someone to look at my application! Am I jealous? Sure... maybe a little. Do I regret choices I've made? Most certainly not. Could I have made better choices? Probably. But the decisions I've made over the years, either good or bad, have brought me to a place I'm happy with. I needed the time to mature, to grow into my skin, to find out what was important to me, to find out who I was and who I am. And I have to say, most days I like the person who stares back at me everyone morning as minty foam oozes out of my mouth and down my chin while I brush my pearly whites. Attractive.

The other days (which now come less often than most) fall prey to the evils of idleness (I mean reflection. Dammit!). If I've learned anything over the years it's to avoid being idle. It's like taking blinders off a race horse. You were on a mission, head buckled down with victory in clear sight when BAM! Suddenly you have no idea where you're going or how you got there. The world spins wildly out of control and you just get down right moody. Where's my gallon of jamocha ice cream?!? I need a moment. Let the chaos ensue.

So after finding time to “reflect”, receiving a cargo load of degrading rejection letters and eye witnessing the inhumane cruelties endowed upon medical students why don't I give up? Why not just throw in the towel? It's because I really want it. I want it more than I've ever wanted anything else. And I want it more now than I ever have. I'm excited! I want the long hours, the intensity. I’ve got something to prove and I'm ready to handle it now. And I'm ok with admitting that I wasn't before. I wasn't ready a year ago… Hmm… where did I leave those blinders..?

Now I could probably kick myself until the end of time for not having the motivation and drive earlier in my pre-medical career but I'm a changed chiquita and really... where's the pity party going to get me? It's a one-way ticket to Nowhereville. Been there, done that. I've done a lot since my failed application to really prove to adcoms I can do it. And for the most part I did it all on my own. Kudos to me. I'm proud of my accomplishments and I damn well should be. I slaughtered the MCAT beast, completed an Honors Thesis, have a publication under my belt, ranked in the top 10% of my graduate biology courses at Harvard and acquired some seriously strong letters of recommendation. Oh Snap!

Now you can think I'm being cocky and have a huge chip on my shoulders, but if you even remotely know me, you know that's not the case. I'm just finally ready to sit at the grown-ups' table. So pass the potatoes please. Mama's hungry.