I never thought that I'd actually make it, and I had little faith in myself as a student. I took the MCAT last summer, but for the first few days only studied a couple of hours per day. My practice test results were terrible. My thought process was: What's the point of studying hard when I won't get in anyways? Then, in early June I had a chance encounter with an old friend from high school at the movie theater, who told me that she studied for the MCAT every day from 9 to 11.
“Yeah, I do about 2 hours too,” I replied.
“No. 9 am to 11 pm,” she laughed.
That was perhaps one of the most important conversations I've had in my academic career. I was frustrated with my poor study habits already, but the conversation made me question myself deeply: why was I pursuing this goal in the first place if I was unwilling to even put in the work necessary to achieve it? I felt a sense of urgency to study. The next day I took my large stack of review books and studied from 9 am to 7 pm. I would take a break for an hour-long nap in the afternoon followed by lunch. This routine lasted consistently for the next 3 months, with just one day missed for an outing to Wonderland.
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| My stack of MCAT books. |
My new attitude was to do my best, even if I failed. In the month leading up to the exam, my practice tests were still below the cutoffs. But in the last two weeks I somehow managed to synthesize and absorb the material very efficiently, and I managed to do better on the MCAT than I had ever hoped.
My new attitude of "Try your best, even though you're not going to make it" carried me through a tough final year, long applications and several multiple mini interviews (which uses live actors to challenge applicants with realistic scenarios). In January, I was sitting in my Cell Bio class when a new message came in on my phone: a rejection from Queens for an interview. I felt shaken to my core and went back home. Lying on my bed a couple hours later, I checked my messages. Another email from Queens: Oops, sorry, we accidentally sent you a rejection. No, we'd actually like to invite you for an interview.
Phew! It turned out to be a technical glitch in Queens' computer system that affected hundreds of students and possibly caused a few heart attacks. Then came May 5th, the day when all the Ontario med schools inform applicants about whether they've been accepted or rejected. I woke up early, refreshed my Hotmail inbox and saw that I was accepted by Queens. Then Wendy Edge, admissions coordinator at McMaster, emailed me shortly thereafter with an offer of admission. I felt a deep sense of relief wash over me and a feeling that the last 4 years of work had been validated in an important way.
I also felt like the medical profession had swept me up into its arms and planted me firmly on my life's path. I could suddenly envision the next 40 years of my life; not the details, but the general contours. I would study for three years, do my residency and then pick a specialty that suited my interests and skills. After becoming accustomed to uncertainty, this sense of clarity was a welcome change.
After giving my parents a hug, I called my Indian grandparents, who were perhaps more excited than anyone else. My grandmother had made several offerings at the Temple to her Hindu gods so that I would be admitted. Once she heard the news, she walked around her apartment complex an hour away from New Delhi and handed out sweets. I also talked with my "Dadadji" or grandfather on the phone for several minutes. He had grown up in dire poverty, and was naturally very happy.
After achieving this goal, I could finally concentrate on my personal growth more. At times I felt empty; when a certain goal occupies so much of your life, it tends to knock out everything else that is there. Now that the dream was fulfilled, it was replaced by many questions: OK, so I'm going to be a doctor. Who cares? What's the point of any of this? Is this all there is to life?
Those questions inspired me to read “Man's Search for Meaning” by Viktor Frankl, a holocaust survivor, and it's no doubt one of the most important books that I've read. It's about taking responsibility for your own happiness and actively creating meaning in life. I also planned out a summer with ample opportunity for new experiences, new friends, and plenty of self-reflection. A combination of working for the Census, traveling to Colorado and doing the Explore program in Quebec has given me a welcome chance to develop personally. I have a long, long way to go. But with med school less than two weeks away, I feel ready to tackle this new stage of my life.
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| New friends |
