i need to get out of here
This round of rejection hurts a lot more than I thought it would.
Granted, there is still one left, but let us be realisitic here: it's not going to happen.
Where did I go wrong? Reading through admissions help weblogs had me thinking about it. My grades are not stellar, my MCAT score is minimal and my experiences on paper seem paltry. Is that really the only ways you can be a successfull applicant?
I did everything by myself. No, I never went to the pre-med advisor because I was told I didn't need to. Perhaps in assuming that my academic advisor, who both knew my end goals, would assist me in more than just my major advising, I've sold myself short.
I come from a family of health care providers. I've cared for more people from engineering accidents more than anything. My grandparents are elderly and in need of assistance. I'm finishing up a masters' degree in bacterial pathogenesis with an thesis heavily steeped in clinical work. But when it comes to paper, that's all that matters. I know more physicians, physical therapists, social workers, and nurses than the average pre-med advisor--how could it all mean nothing?
Because it's not on paper. Because I don't like to exploit my connections to people who have loved me unconditionally. Because I've devoted the last six years to living and retaining an experience, rather than becoming another standard applicant to a steadily growing pool of mediocracy and singularity.
I keep telling myself that life experiences are more valuable than the number of doctors I've shadowed on paper or how high my grades are. I keep telling myself that I am more well-rounded than the norm because I've chosen to accept the world's challenges and rise above them. I keep telling myself that I am worth more than any rejection I'll receive this year.
Because I am. Even if it takes me another year, two years, three years, to get in, I'll do it. Failure builds character. These other kids I've grown up with, who are already in their third, fourth, residency years, what have they done in their lifetimes?
Ask them. They'll tell you the same things every other pre-med tells you. I went on a mission trip. I served the poor. I shadowed so many physicians and learned so much! i volunteered at a clinic.
How many of them performed for the masses? How many of them have traveled the world? How many of them have a masters' degree? How many of them have mentored students, volunteered for social and cultural organizations, spoken to the researchers that built the foundations of the very medicine they practice? How many of them have been one of those researchers for longer than a year?
I can't be angry because I brought this unfortunate, ill-preparedness on myself. But I can be angry at the people who tell me I'm more worthless than the norm.
Because I'm not.
Granted, there is still one left, but let us be realisitic here: it's not going to happen.
Where did I go wrong? Reading through admissions help weblogs had me thinking about it. My grades are not stellar, my MCAT score is minimal and my experiences on paper seem paltry. Is that really the only ways you can be a successfull applicant?
I did everything by myself. No, I never went to the pre-med advisor because I was told I didn't need to. Perhaps in assuming that my academic advisor, who both knew my end goals, would assist me in more than just my major advising, I've sold myself short.
I come from a family of health care providers. I've cared for more people from engineering accidents more than anything. My grandparents are elderly and in need of assistance. I'm finishing up a masters' degree in bacterial pathogenesis with an thesis heavily steeped in clinical work. But when it comes to paper, that's all that matters. I know more physicians, physical therapists, social workers, and nurses than the average pre-med advisor--how could it all mean nothing?
Because it's not on paper. Because I don't like to exploit my connections to people who have loved me unconditionally. Because I've devoted the last six years to living and retaining an experience, rather than becoming another standard applicant to a steadily growing pool of mediocracy and singularity.
I keep telling myself that life experiences are more valuable than the number of doctors I've shadowed on paper or how high my grades are. I keep telling myself that I am more well-rounded than the norm because I've chosen to accept the world's challenges and rise above them. I keep telling myself that I am worth more than any rejection I'll receive this year.
Because I am. Even if it takes me another year, two years, three years, to get in, I'll do it. Failure builds character. These other kids I've grown up with, who are already in their third, fourth, residency years, what have they done in their lifetimes?
Ask them. They'll tell you the same things every other pre-med tells you. I went on a mission trip. I served the poor. I shadowed so many physicians and learned so much! i volunteered at a clinic.
How many of them performed for the masses? How many of them have traveled the world? How many of them have a masters' degree? How many of them have mentored students, volunteered for social and cultural organizations, spoken to the researchers that built the foundations of the very medicine they practice? How many of them have been one of those researchers for longer than a year?
I can't be angry because I brought this unfortunate, ill-preparedness on myself. But I can be angry at the people who tell me I'm more worthless than the norm.
Because I'm not.