Guys, my life is weird. To keep up with my obligations, I basically operate on the 36 hour Men In Black day. I suppose that does make me uniquely suited to being a doctor one day though. I easily work 80 hours a week, and depending on the time of year and what’s going on, another 40-50 on school.
I love every minute of it.
I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. There are MUCH easier ways I could spend my time. You know, like sleeping. But it does pile up. Along with the GAL (which between designing and knitting represents about 600 hours annually), L&L’s independent designs, a pattern book (spoilers!), research, volunteer work, teaching, marital duties, catching Pokemon, and smiting my enemies… There isn’t really much time left to stress about my med school applications. I’m an overachiever though, and I manage to work in the time to obsess over them anyway.
Just today I realized that I had spent a full episode of Criminal Minds staring at my knitting while my mind wandered to wondering why no med schools want me. I didn’t know what that episode was about and I didn’t know what row I was on, which was a real shame since I’m working on a gorgeous shawl using Manos Fino Yarn.
For awhile now, I’ve considered writing a post about the sting of academic rejection. I don’t usually use this space for a post like this — this isn’t my Hello Kitty Dear Diary, and I recognize that — but with increasing frequency, I’ve been hearing from readers who are going through the same thing. I’ve tried to offer support wherever I can. With a BA, Masters program, and post bac under my belt, I’ve become a seasoned veteran of the application process. But today, as I raged out of the room shouting, “Well now they’re just trolling me!” Jac suggested that the time to write this post had come.
I haven’t been shy about how PCOM is my first choice for a lot of reasons. I don’t mean to say that I wouldn’t be thrilled to go to a different med school, but everyone has a dream school and I’m comfortable discussing mine. Anyhow, my drama today happened after I got an email from admissions. For a brief moment, I thought that this was it: FINALLY that interview invite had come. Nope, just about an open house in November.
I have a strong application with great letters of recommendation and extracurriculars, and I have yet to be asked to a single interview. It’s easy to take it personally or read too much into things. Some of that is because we’ve all convinced ourselves we ought to act like everything is fine, the never let them see you cry mentality, but bottling it up isn’t good for you. Or me, apparently. So whether you’re waiting to hear from your first choice med school or your last choice undergrad, let’s all take a deep breath and allow ourselves a little rant, shall we?
- Following me on Twitter, and then NOT inviting me in for an interview makes me think you just want to be internet friends. It’s like that guy who messages you on Facebook to say he’ll be in town next weekend and you pretend not to see it until the Monday after he leaves.
- Communication matters: Send us complete emails. Post how many spots are left. Let us have an educated freakout process.
- To the school that sent my friend a rejection email that simply read “INTERVIEW DENIED”: That was a jerk move. You know who you are.
- Look, I know you probably get 1000 calls a day. But just being able to call and get an update of “we’ve looked at your application” or “we haven’t looked at it” would probably cut the collective American premed stress in half.
Whew, I feel better already! Sometimes you just need a little catharsis. I’m lucky enough to have a rock solid support system between Jac and Mr. Llama, but I know not everyone does. So to round it out, I’d like to finish with an open statement to applicants:
- You are more than your gpa and MCAT score. I swear to you that 10 years from now children will not whisper about your Verbal score as they walk past your house, eyeballing you like the neighborhood witch known for cooking kids and getting less than a 30.
- Adcoms are not trolling you, they don’t hate you, and they do the best they can with the crazy volume of applicants they have to deal with.
- Rejecting your application is not the same as rejecting you as a person.
- You have great hair, and whatever you decide to wear to your interview will look awesome on you.
Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top.