I never thought I'd hear such a complement on my interview trail, especially not at my home institution. Today was my sixth interview, the one I was least excited about. I am definitely done with this state, and feel like you have to have had really positive medical school experience to want to stay at your home institution for residency. That's right all, I'm a fourth year. And it is kicking ass, now that I'm in the middle of it. I haven't blogged in awhile, but lets just say that things haven't been getting much easier from all the rants I've posted so many time before. I had a horrible sub-I experience that left me feeling like the worst student in the history of medicine, and very close to dropping out of school. Yes I say that in almost every blog, but here I was, finally decided on peds, excited to get started,ready to prove myself, and instead proving that I'm just an idiot with no talent and no ability to be a doctor. The sub-internship is a difficult place to struggle. You feel like you should be good at something and when you aren't, you wonder about your career choice and the rest of your life. And when you are in a state with only one option for a pediatric residency, you don't realize that just because one program doesn't work for you doesn't mean you aren't going to find one that does.
I spent a good portion of the end of my third year and beginning of my fourth year thinking that residency was going to be this hellish experience that I was just going to have to get through and hope that real life practice was better. Considering I've spent the past three years hoping everything was going to get better it was kind of a depressing thought to resign myself to more years of horror in the hopes of things getting better. Luckily, I figured out that part of the problem with the program at my school was that it was just to big,and I didn't like big. I wanted to go back to small. So I started looking for smaller programs, and I've found some amazing programs to apply to.
during the interview process I've found that I could conceviably be happy in any of the schools I've interviewed at so far. Really, honestly, happy and enjoying residency. I've even found a program that I think is perfect for me, even if the location is less than ideal. Who knows though, maybe I'll love the town once I get there.
But what really surprised me throughout this experience is that I'm a really good residency candidate. Yes, me, failed boards, bad attitude, and inability to learn. Why? I'm not quite sure. Apparently all the other stuff I've done in medical school has turned out to really work in my benefit. Maybe I'm just applying to places that want something more than a boards score. Or maybe, just maybe, failing the boards and struggling through medical school has actually made me a stronger, more in tune with myself person. Maybe the fact that I have to explain over and over again why I failed the boards and what I learned from it is actually working to my benefit. And I'm finding that saying "failing the boards sucked, but was actually a blessing in disguise" isn't just some line I'm spouting, it really is true. I mean, I'd rather not have failed the boards, but what if I had just barely passed? Where would I be now? Still thinking I'm the dumbest, most unteachable person in the world? Because now I can see that maybe I'm not as smart as everyone else, but I'm sure not dumb, I just learn differently. Would I have learned that I learn differently if I had never been forced to face that fact? Interesting...
When I started picking school to apply to for my residency, I wanted school that wouldn't care quite as much about my failure as they did about the fact that I do have some things to contribute to a program. However, being a student allowed me an interview at a top ranked program. A wonderful, courtesy, you go to the medical school we are affiliated with but have no chance of actually getting into here interview. And to be honest, for as much as they probably don't want me, I didn't want to go there either. I don't think they have ever accepted a boards failure before, and while I'm more than willing to be some program's token Muslim, being the token board failure didn't seem like something to be bragging about. So when I got to my interview today, I was expecting the worse. I was all geared up for a fight. I seriously, genuinely thought that they were going to sit me down in my interviews and say "why in the heck should we even consider you? Because right now as it stands, you don't have a chance in hell. You know that right? You would never get in here." Or some variation of that theme. And I was nervous about it, but also kinda ok with it, because it's a mutual understanding that I don't belong there.
Well, as in most times when I've geared myself up for a fight, everything actually went really smoothly. And strangely, though nothing I heard today made me think this progam would be a good fit for me (even though it is a FANTASTIC program, with some of the best facilities and learning opportunities a student could ask for), I left glad that I had gone. I remembered my bad experiences there, but I also saw it through the eyes of other applicants, and really wanted to want to go there. That makes really great sense in my head. I loved the state of the art facilities, I remembered how much I felt like if I had sick kids I'd want them treated there, and I appreciated what the program had to offer. But most of all, I had two amazing interviews with physicians who made me feel valued. My interviews were the opposite of what I'd been expecting. Two amazing physicians from an amazing, highly ranked program with all the applicants they could possibly dream of, telling ME, little old me, that I was an amazing applicant with great experiences and insights. And at the end of the my second interview, the doctor said any program would be lucky to have me.
When it comes right down to it, I still don't think they are going to rank me very highly on their list. I mean, come on today we had students from Duke interviewing. I can't compete with shit like that. But I left there feeling like someone who, with hte right amount of training, can go out into the world and do something special that others might not get to do. And that was one of the best feelings I've had in a long time.
So, for those of you who read my blog (which I'm sorry I haven't updated in awhile) and feel like I do, that everything is falling apart and there are just so many more years of hell in front of you, remember that everything that is happening now is worth something, making you stronger, and helping you to become the best doctor you can be. And that isn't just smoke I'm blowing up your ass. I really am starting to think it is all going to work out.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
My freakin' awesome pediatrics personal statement:be jealous
I never realized how important it is to dream until I discovered I’d lost my ability to do so. Ask a child what they want to be when they grow up, and they have such large, vivid dreams that no one can take away from them. When I was a child I wanted to be a princess, and a ballerina, a fashion designer, travel the world, and be a doctor. All I had to do was dream. None of my dreams conflicted with each other, there was always time for all of them, you could be a fire-fighting princess teacher if you wanted to be. All you had to do was grow up. Growing up was the key to fulfilling all dreams.
During the process of growing up, I realized that my dreams did conflict with each other, and my vision became more concentrated and focused. Medical school narrowed down my focus to the business of becoming a physician. Focusing on the moment and succeeding in each of my classes was essential to fulfill my dream of being a doctor, which seemed like such a huge accomplishment in and of itself that I forgot that I could be so much more, and that being a doctor meant so much more than just earning my degree. And when I failed the boards, I felt like becoming a doctor was just that, a dream that was slowly passing me by. But I picked myself up, recognized the weaknesses that had kept me from passing the first time, and worked hard to pass it the second time around. As I continued through my clinical rotations, I was working to reach an endpoint, a fixed goal, instead of remembering all the dreams I’d had for what I would do when I “grew up.”
I started noticing a difference during my pediatric rotations. At first it was unclear to me exactly what had changed. I assumed it was just the magic of being around children all the time; however, I soon realized I was starting to get my dreams back again. And by dreaming big, like a child does, my enthusiasm for my future was renewed. I was excited to see what each day had to bring, what new cases there were to see, and how I could be part of a child’s care. When children shared their dreams with me, I was able to share my dreams with them, and show them that dreaming never has to stop. Now I want to show them that they can fulfill those dreams, maybe with just a few adjustments.
I came to see that during the process of growing up, children’s dreams are slowly stifled. In very young children, we encourage large, intense, somewhat ridiculous dreaming. As kids grow older, parents and society start having expectations of kids that can sometimes restrict their dreams. It’s all part of the process of growing up. But I feel that through medicine I can work with children to keep them healthy so they can continue to dream. Additionally, by living my own dreams, I can provide opportunities for kids to live their dreams.
So while I have accepted that I may never be a fire-fighting princess fashion designing super hero solving mysteries and saving lives, I’m realizing I’ll never “just” be a doctor either. Children believe they can do many things all at once, and by being around children I’m able to hold on to those dreams of being many things at once: a doctor and a teacher; a mother and a therapist and a world traveler. And most importantly, I’ll be saving the world, one child at a time, just like I always knew I was destined to do. Children gave me back my ability to dream, and I now will dedicate my life to giving them everything I can dream of.
During the process of growing up, I realized that my dreams did conflict with each other, and my vision became more concentrated and focused. Medical school narrowed down my focus to the business of becoming a physician. Focusing on the moment and succeeding in each of my classes was essential to fulfill my dream of being a doctor, which seemed like such a huge accomplishment in and of itself that I forgot that I could be so much more, and that being a doctor meant so much more than just earning my degree. And when I failed the boards, I felt like becoming a doctor was just that, a dream that was slowly passing me by. But I picked myself up, recognized the weaknesses that had kept me from passing the first time, and worked hard to pass it the second time around. As I continued through my clinical rotations, I was working to reach an endpoint, a fixed goal, instead of remembering all the dreams I’d had for what I would do when I “grew up.”
I started noticing a difference during my pediatric rotations. At first it was unclear to me exactly what had changed. I assumed it was just the magic of being around children all the time; however, I soon realized I was starting to get my dreams back again. And by dreaming big, like a child does, my enthusiasm for my future was renewed. I was excited to see what each day had to bring, what new cases there were to see, and how I could be part of a child’s care. When children shared their dreams with me, I was able to share my dreams with them, and show them that dreaming never has to stop. Now I want to show them that they can fulfill those dreams, maybe with just a few adjustments.
I came to see that during the process of growing up, children’s dreams are slowly stifled. In very young children, we encourage large, intense, somewhat ridiculous dreaming. As kids grow older, parents and society start having expectations of kids that can sometimes restrict their dreams. It’s all part of the process of growing up. But I feel that through medicine I can work with children to keep them healthy so they can continue to dream. Additionally, by living my own dreams, I can provide opportunities for kids to live their dreams.
So while I have accepted that I may never be a fire-fighting princess fashion designing super hero solving mysteries and saving lives, I’m realizing I’ll never “just” be a doctor either. Children believe they can do many things all at once, and by being around children I’m able to hold on to those dreams of being many things at once: a doctor and a teacher; a mother and a therapist and a world traveler. And most importantly, I’ll be saving the world, one child at a time, just like I always knew I was destined to do. Children gave me back my ability to dream, and I now will dedicate my life to giving them everything I can dream of.
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