I haven't written anything for a while (and I know nobody is more disappointed about that than my father), but I think it was because the application process has been quite hard on me. Everyone applying to medical school says that, I know. But it's true. Part of the nature of the application process is that you must know not just the answers to the deepest questions about yourself, but you must be able to eloquently spell it out. It's like your life is an essay and your life thesis is "I want to be a doctor." I personally have known I wanted to be a doctor since I was in seventh grade, and had experiences that pushed me toward medicine even before that. If this is this hard for me, I don't know how people who decide they want to go into medicine later in life do it.
Now that interview season is in full swing, I have to be able to vocalize my life story, rather than having the safety of Microsoft Word to help me craft the perfect response to every question. To practice, I have been talking to the white wall behind my desk. That thing is going to be my closest friend by the end of interview season. Frankly, I'm glad I have been practicing my speaking because I've realized I have some pretty obnoxious habits. For instance, I like to gesture with my hands a LOT, especially when I'm not really believing what I'm saying. It's as if I think that the more I gesture, the more convincing my story will seem. After one failed interview, though, I know the need for a streamlined and interesting story to have in my back pocket. Being at a school talking to actual ADCOM members who have your fate in their hands is totally different from filling an application out from a thousand miles away. I think the experience made me realize that if I don't fully believe in myself, I won't come off as strongly. The fact that I was so crushed by the rejection showed me I do still have a passion for medicine, and that actually gave me more confidence and reassurance than anything else so far.
The other strange thing about med school applications, as I alluded to, is that every rejection makes you feel as if this dream you've worked so hard for is NEVER GOING TO COME TRUE EVARRRR. So even though I have some great things going for me, like a job in a hospital, friends and family who care about me, and a FIANCE (Yeah, that Franklin dude from the last post proposed and we're getting married in June! Guess wedding planning could add some stress to my life...), sometimes nothing can cheer me up. When I was rejected from the first school I interviewed at, and it seemed like the world would end for a solid week. I even taped the rejection letter to my bedside table to reinforce my failure, or something. I feel bad telling Franklin how unhappy I am during these times because I don't want him to think HE is the reason for my unhappiness. I think I have compartmentalized my life pretty thoroughly, and I am always happy he's in my life, but sometimes the desire for professional self-actualization dictates my happiness for a while. What can I say, I'm a competitive person within reach of my lifelong dream.
That's not to say it's all bad news. Every interview invitation I get buoys my confidence and I just bask in its glory for a while. That's where it's really great to be able to share my successes with someone else, because we get to imagine what our lives would be like moving to that new city. About two weeks removed from an interview the sense of purpose and anxiety creeps back in, but there's also a sense of hope and anticipation along with it.
I guess all I'm trying to say is that it's been a roller coaster of emotions, and it will only get more intense from here. But I know this is only the beginning, and WHEN I get into medical school it will be worth the stress and worrying.
More incentive: I have vowed that the day I get my first acceptance letter I am buying this for Franklin. So awesome.
