Please Don't Mind The Echo, or, How I Got Into Medical School

So let's just get it out of the way that my second medical school acceptance call, for the school I now attend, was totally normal.  I was sitting on the couch playing video games with my husband when my phone rang.  I answered, the friendly admissions lady on the other end told me I'd been accepted, I thanked her profusely, and we hung up.  It was quite nice.

This is not about that phone call.  This is about my first med school acceptance call, and it involves one of the most private of places.  Let's start at the beginning.

The application process for medical school has several steps and takes about 6 months.  After taking the MCAT (which is its own 6-month ordeal) a student has to make it through primary and secondary applications, as well as a formal interview.  Using this body of information, the school makes a decision on who gets admitted to the incoming class.  The acceptance rate is below 15% at most medical schools.

I didn't have very good grades for the first 2 years of college, courtesy of balancing real life crap and school.  This meant when I talked to my premed counselor during my junior year, he sighed deeply and informed me that I wasn't a competitive applicant.  I let that pronouncement eat at me over the next year, even after doing well on the MCAT.  I tell you all of this so you will understand just how on edge I was during this process.  By the time I'd made it to the interview stage, I was practically vibrating with nerves.

Cut to November of my senior year.  I'd just had my first! ever! interview and was in that terrifying period just after: waiting for a response.  This particular afternoon I was hard at work in my college's histology lab, memorising slides with my fellow premeds, several of whom were also anxiously awaiting answers.  And like good premed seniors, we had our cell phones with us.  Always.  ALWAYS.  I would set my phone on the edge of the tub when I showered; otherwise it stayed in my pocket or my hand, where I would glance at it constantly.  It had been a week of this, and this day was no different. 

Until I had to pee.  Perhaps you see where this is headed.

I tossed my phone to one of my friends with strict instructions to answer for me if an unknown number called and tell them I would call back.  And I was still sitting on the toilet contemplating life when the main bathroom door slammed open and I heard my friend's half hysterical voice ring out.

"Zoe!  Someone called for you!  Where are you?  I'm bringing you the phone!"

"What?  Don't answer!  I can't talk to them right n-"

"No, no, it's too late, I already picked up, she wants to talk to you-"

"But - wait - "

It was indeed too late.  A hand shoved my phone unceremoniously under the stall door and shook it excitedly.  In a panic, I Kegel'd harder than any woman ever has in history, accepted my bloody phone, and squeaked, "He- hello?"

"Is this Zoe?"

"Yes, yes it is."  No.  Oh my goodness, no.  This cannot be happening.  Squeeze, Zoe.  Squeeze!

"Hi, this is Admissions Lady from The Medical School."

"Uh, ha, hi.  What can I do for you?"  Must talk less.  What if she hears the echo?  Oh, please, Lord, please don't let her notice an echo.  Please.

"I wanted to thank you for coming out to see our school, and I also wanted to let you know that we have decided to accept you into our school's incoming class."

Pause.

"Hello?  Zoe?"

I honestly don't remember what I said after that or how I got off the phone, because all I could focus on was that if I gave full rein to my relief and gratitude... well.  I really didn't need that poor lady on the phone to hear just how relieved I was.  I do know that I laughed uncontrollably for about five minutes afterwards.  As did both my mother and mother-in-law when I told them what happened.

There are some good lessons to be learned from this.
1. We often speak of God's perfect timing.  I would like to emphasize that He also has perfect comedic timing.
2.  Sometimes we will be blessed by having humility baked into a set of circumstances.  I can never talk about how I got into medical school without that story, and it is a beautiful demonstration of how little I actually control.

November: Obstetrics

My month of OB/Gyn is almost over.  It's been pretty good if quite slow at times.  I must admit, I'm just not a fan of speculum exams.  Not because they seem too private or anything (I don't think that's a problem most medical people have, ha), but... it's just... look, if I never have to smell trichomoniasis or BV again it'll be too soon, okay?  Okay.  And hysterectomies creep me out.  I think I've finally found the area of medicine that I can't depersonalise, and it's to do with female parts.  Like how guys often wince when they watch another man get kicked between the legs.  A future gynecologist I am decidedly not.

Fetal heart sounds are incredible, though.  Run a little ultrasound machine over the mother's tummy and there they are.  They make me smile every time.  And a baby's first cry?  It gives me shivers.  I didn't think I was someone who could be overwhelmed - even momentarily - by the bright miracle of birth, but I totally am, and I'm grateful.  I can see why a lot of people like this field.  The good parts are some of the best in all medicine, in my opinion. 

At any rate, I can deliver a baby now.  Have done twice.  The pushing and crowning part (as the baby's head passes through the birth canal) grosses me out a bit, but catching the baby, all warm and squirmy and new, is really gratifying.  Partly it's because I've always felt like there's a short list of quintessential doctor things.  It's a silly, arbitrary list but that doesn't change its visceral importance to me: sew up a cut, resuscitate someone, deliver a baby, listen to heart and lungs, give bad news.  I've done all but the last now.  It's sort of staggering to realise that.  I'm still a rank beginner, but the experience really is coming.

I am really, for real, in all seriousness, no joke, going to be a doctor one day.  And not one day off in the misty future.  I am going to be a doctor in a year and a half.

^____________^

In other news, I've put my finger on what's bothering me about liking emergency medicine so much.  It was my very first rotation, and I would have been happy to do anything (I think) as long as it wasn't more class.  And it was a great time.  What I need to help get some perspective is to find some things I don't like about the field.  It's worrying to have only positive things to say; usually that's a sign that you've lost your objectivity in that situation.  If, however, I had some negatives to consider, I would feel much more secure in my preferences.

Late night moment of doubt

Spending a week around people who are more married to their jobs than their are to their spouses has left me feeling lonely and wary of my career.  Four more months of this - four years in the long term.  Working and working in order to - what?  Work?  Seriously?

It's funny.  Being out doing "real medicine" is meant to remind you of your reasoning for putting yourself through the awfulness of the first two years of medical school.  But right now it just seems like a rat race.  Remind me; why am I doing this again?