So I just got my first official rejection letter from XYZ School of Medicine in Warm Tropical Climate.
I guess my application just isn't good enough which makes sense I suppose. I mean, really...what made me think I had a chance?
I only graduated from BSc with distinction. Had "A" average in pre reqs. Have worked in health care for 4 years and traveled to the most remote regions of the country to deliver primary care to under-serviced populations. I only have certifications in ACLS, BTLS, TNCC, NRP, CPR-C, and Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner. Being on call as the only health provider in places where the nearest doctor/hospital was 4h away by plane has obviously given me no insight into the rigors of medical responsibility. What do I know about medicine? Clearly nothing.
Maybe it is because I am not well rounded enough. Like maybe if I spoke 4 languages instead of only 3. And played 4 instruments instead of only 3. Maybe if I hadn't had a career as a music teacher and in a successful band as a lead vocalist I could have put just a little more time into volunteer work because I only volunteered with the homeless youth project for a year and for the Red Cross Emergency Disaster team for 3 years, and in an elephant sanctuary in Malaysia, oh and at that hospital in India. Maybe if I had been more athletic...like been involved in more sports than just volleyball, basketball, rugby, running, rock climbing, skiing, kayaking, hiking, and cross country mountain biking...damn it! I knew I should have taken up lacrosse and water polo!
I suppose it is my small mindedness and inability to venture into unknown territories because I have been outside this small town so few times. I mean hasn't everyone been to Thailand, India, Sri Lanka, Nepal, Malaysia, New Zealand, Australia, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Africa?
It is such shit feeling to open that letter in the post office. The nice, well air conditioned post office. The letter was just sitting there so innocuously. It didn't look like the menacing message it held. After opening it I had to go and pick up a parcel (a book about first responders and PTSD incidentally) and was in a full rejection daze. The frustration of all the time and money and blood and sweat and tears for this. This letter printed on nice heavy paper. Paper my 75$ application fee helped pay for.
I know, I know. Rejection is a part of the process. But frankly, this really isn't a good time. It's a million degrees outside and my arms are sticking to my MCAT notes as I try and make them, my relationship has been through a meat grinder over the past 10 months, and my financial ruin may come if I don't somehow win the lottery or stop studying for the MCAT and get back to work soon. So with each passing day the WHY AM I DOING THIS voice gets louder and more insistent.
Okay. Rant done. I had to vent somewhere. And if not on my blog chronicling my path to med school then where?
Stupid. Stupid. Med. School. I hate you almost as much as I hate shin splints.
Maybe I didn't get in because of my sense of entitlement.