MATCHED!

I posed with my new Louis Vuitton bag and asked RedSox, "how do I look?"

He replied, "Wealthy."

That's the ultimate goal, and it will be realized. I'm very happy to report that I matched in radiology in Boston. I'll spend a year in Denver doing regular medicine first. 

I must admit that I knew I was matching at the GH a month ago. Apparently I was #1 on their rank list, and of course no one could resist telling my mother... who then couldn't resist telling me... who then told Sister and RedSox, but no one else. (ok I spilled to OleMiss 2 weeks later and then Ruby 2 days prior to the Match).

I'd say I did the best job with the secret, though.

And now for a soapbox moment:

Medical school is hell on Earth. I don't encourage anyone to go, and looking back on the last 4 years I wouldn't repeat most of it. Granted, I say this in the immediate aftermath. I imagine I'll be singing a different tune when I realize I have job security, a sweet paycheck and great friends I would never have met otherwise.

I would like to thank everyone for reading my blog, be it long-term or once in a while. Thank you for offering your thoughts, advice and opinions regarding school and everything else going on in my life. I appreciate you sticking around when I ultimately did what I wanted/felt/needed anyway.

Because you KNOW the story ain't over...

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In Limbo

I'm gonna jump from topic to topic in this post, but that's how my mind is working at the moment.

My life is in a limbo of sorts. I feel like I cannot make any decisions until I find out about residency. Match Day is this coming Thursday... but Black Monday tells me Yes or No. I'm really praying for a yes, both for the preliminary year and for radiology.

By some miracle, someone bought my loft bed... and now my bedroom is a mess of clothes and books. This hasn't helped with the limbo. I'm afraid to do anything else that might add to the chaos I'm feeling. 

I took a break and went to the Bahamas with RedSox and his friends. We had a wonderful time. Though our relationship has a definitive break, it doesn't have a definitive end. I've been reading a book called "When Good People Have Affairs," and have found quite a bit of enlightenment. I've also come up with a plan, possibly.

Tomorrow I'm going a church in Davis Square to drop off $1000. It's been my plan since the beginning of the residency application process. I was going to wait until after the Match, but I don't want to risk changing my donation in case I am displeased with the Match.

A few days ago, I met someone who gave me a great quote. "If you want something, you have to give it away." Basically if you want love, you need to give love. If you want money, you need to give money. If you want help, you need to offer it.

I want all of those things and more.

I just can't make any moves right now. I'm stuck... in limbo. Isn't this one of the layers of hell?

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I love the Navy... and San Diego

When I got the interview offer from the Naval hospital, I couldn't be more excited. All I could think was MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN MEN... did I mention Men?

The navy did deliver. I think I had whiplash walking through the hospital. 

The interviews were TOUGH though. They were the most formal and "typical" with questions about strengths and weaknesses, failures, triumphs, favorite thing about med school, etc.

I was prepared but unprepared because I just hadn't reviewed those answers in a while. I hope I did ok, but I'm not sure... especially the first interview. I swear the doc/lieutenant didn't even crack a smile.

Now let's talk about San Diego. Here's the city in a nutshell:

Mexicans, Mexicans, Homeless, HOTTIE!

Homeless, Mexicans, Homeless, HOTTIE!

I'd probably have fun, but I don't think I'd find a hottie with a brain who is unmarried. 

On to the rest of San Diego. I did have the chance to re-unite with one of my best friends from college... and WhiteRapper joined me for the weekend.

In a nutshell, we had a fun weekend exploring San Diego. I did fabulous dessert, the zoo and sportfishing... yes, I went fishing... and I probably won't ever again.

I wish I could write more thoughtfully, but I don't have much to say. It's all what it is. *I* am just tired. Now that interviews are almost done, I'm scared. I'm afraid I won't match. In fact, there's a good chance I won't.

But there is a good chance I will... I just have to impress the chief... I hope he trusts me when I tell him I will not fail.

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Carded

Thursday night before my Friday interview at the GH, the residents invited us out for drinks and dinner at the Liberty Hotel. I love this place. It's pretentious and snobby, and totally fabulous. 

That day, I got out of work at 4:30pm. I had plenty of time to get home, change and head to the Liberty by 5:30pm. I realized at 5pm that I left my cell phone in my white coat back at school. 

That's ok, I thought to myself. I'm not gonna be talking to anyone that evening nor the next day during my interview. I can go get it when I'm done. I continue getting ready. Then I realize I also left my wallet in my white coat.

And this is when I flip out...

I'm going to be drinking. What if I get carded? I will look like the BIGGEST tool in front of my future colleagues.

I throw on my outfit, roll down my hill and jump in a cab. I have 15 minutes to get to school and back to the Liberty. The cabbie totally felt my story, got me to school and back in the nick of time.

And of course I didn't get carded... of course.

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Residency Rage

I think if I bit someone right now, I'd infect them with rage... 

I had my first session with a new therapist on Wednesday to talk about my anger issues. Basically everything is setting me off. If I don't show it on the outside, it's destroying me on the inside. The whole residency process is stressful. I have to keep track of a lot of things, and when my parents get involved, stress skyrockets and anger ensues.

On Wednesday, I laid everything out on the table for my therapist and she feels like learning to deal with my parents is going to be the major focus during our time together. At the end of the session, she told me to try and keep track of things that are getting me angry.

Let me tell you what just happened, since this will probably be the entire focus of my next therapy session.

Today my mom called me on the way home from work. She was in the car with my dad. She was wicked excited on the phone telling me that Denver sent a letter to my parents' house and made me an offer outside of the match for my preliminary year.

Before I reacted I had two questions:

1. Why did Denver send the letter to my parents' address?

2. Why did Dad open mail addressed to me?

I told my mom this was a lot to take in, and I'm working my shift at the gym so I'll call when it's over. At the time that I call, I want her to READ the EXACT words in the letter to me. 

I called Sister and told her the news. She was beyond elated. She kept raving about how exciting this offer is, how I can cancel the rest of my prelim interviews and focus on radiology, how awesome Denver would be for a year, etc etc. 

For the rest of my shift I went over the option with several co-workers, getting their thoughts. I processed the offer, and was getting pretty excited myself. I didn't expect it all. Hell, my 'thank you' letters haven't even arrived in Denver.

I called my mom the second I got home. She tells me dad made a mistake, then reads the letter to me. It was basically a letter saying "thanks for coming, call if you have any questions." At the bottom the residency director hand-wrote "Come to Denver," which I'm sure he writes on all the letters.

This was a courtesy letter, an encouraging letter, but NOT an offer to bypass the Match and join the intern class next year. I was FUMING. I yelled at my mom about dad opening my mail. He should not have done that, nor said anything since he's not in medicine and doesn't know anything about the Match. She, in turn, should not have called me without reading the letter herself.

For the last 2 hours, I was pacing around telling everyone. My co-workers, Sister, RedSox... all these people think I've got an offer in Denver and it turns out I don't. 

I feel embarrassed, upset... bummed out. I am FUMING with anger, I can't really move.

I have plenty of material for my next session with my therapist... and my dad didn't think I needed to see one.

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Tap the Rockies

I just had my first interviews for the preliminary year in Denver. The first interview I kinda screwed up a bit. She asked me why I didn't want to become a regular medicine doctor, and I hadn't prepped that question. I faltered a bit, but basically told her I LOVE medicine but I was highly influenced by my radiology rotations and felt my personality fit well in radiology.

My second interview was with the residency director himself. He pretty much read me my letters of recommendation, my dean's letter, all the positives about me and told me that he would love to have me there. It was really cool to hear and when he put the ball in my court, I took the bait and ran with it.

Once the interview was over, I was able to focus on another reason to visit Denver... WhiteRapper.

I haven't seen him since we met over a year ago. We've chatted here and there, but after my last trip to Denver got cancelled by a snowstorm I figured that was God's way of telling me to stick with RedSox.

With my invitation to interview in Denver, I took it as a sign that I just need to be Roxy a little bit longer.

WhiteRapper picked me up the night before my interview. He had green tea for me upon arrival at baggage claim. We drove back to his place and he cooked me dinner. I told him ahead of time that I do not want to drink the night before my interview so he kept me well hydrated with water. We spent quite a while talking and then went to bed... his bed.

I couldn't sleep so we chatted most of the night. He rubbed my back to calm my nerves and instead it excited some different nerves. I told him I wanted to cuddle... and then I told him I wanted more. I fell right asleep afterwards... completely satisfied.

We woke up the next morning early. After my shower, I was greeted with a healthy breakfast and green tea. Then I met WhiteRapper's son...

For a little bit of background, WhiteRapper had a terribly rocky on-off relationship with his girlfriend of 7 years. He got her pregnant in Boston... right after I met him in my home town.

The little guy is the cutest baby ever. He let me hold him. He held my hands as I helped him learn to walk. He grabbed the cross around my neck and learned the word Jesus. I quickly apologized to WhiteRapper because I know mom is Hindu. What?...

Every morning he made me breakfast. He planned our days of hiking and checking out Colorado. He paid for everything, and appropriately let me buy things. He bought me a beautiful Alexis Bittar bracelet as a congrats gift after my interview.

I had a great time with WhiteRapper.... finally spending an adequate amount of time together after meeting on MySpace 4 years ago.

I know some of you disagree with my behavior, and I'm not going to defend it. I don't follow socially acceptable practices or typical morals. I do what I feel... and this past weekend I felt like tapping the Rockies.

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Disproportionality

I am soooooooo sorry I haven't written. Though I must say, there hasn't been much going on. I'm still a stressball about residency applications, but what I'm finding is that my only prelim-year interview is Denver. This is surprising, because I officially have 4 interview offers for radiology.

I was expecting to struggle with rads over prelim, but after talking to the doctor at my clinic today I feel better. She imagines that since I'm only going to be at a hospital for one year, that hospital would probably care more about interviewing the people who plan to stay for a full program in Internal Medicine.

It makes sense, but still... I've applied all over the damn country for this ONE year. It's kinda nerve-wracking that I might have to fly out somewhere at the drop of a hat and for a huge chunk of change (luckily not my change, so I don't have THAT much stress).

I admitted to my mom yesterday that I didn't apply anywhere in Boston for the one year transition/prelim. She was not happy... neither was RedSox.

But I gotta put me first because I'm sure you'll all agree that you can't take care of someone until you can take care of yourself.

I'm still working on myself.

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well I can't say I didn't try...

but I'm sure fatigue played in a role in my score.

So I didn't get a 280. I was expecting that. My score ended up being in the 220s, which is the national average.

I'm hopeful that I can still move forward in the application process, but it's still going to be incredibly difficult.

So now I need interview help...
How do I answer the questions "most people we take have much higher scores, why should we consider you?" and "why didn't you do better?"

If any of you have thoughts on this, I'd appreciate some advice on how I can say I'm not a weak candidate. I don't really have anything else to back me up...

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Interviews and the bald spot

I got my first rejection letter last week from a transitional year program. Though I know I will be getting plenty of rejections, it still hurt that the first piece of news was a rejection. It was a program in NYC, too.

I tried not to let it get me down and convinced myself that they are going to regret it once they see my application picture. I've got more important things to worry about anyways.

My bald spot... it's increased in diameter. 

I don't know if I've ever conveyed my obsession with my hair, so let me break it down for you.

I have been in love with hair since before I learned the word. As a kid, I loved working my hair in the morning. My parents never let me buy products or get a salon hair-cut, so I would go crazy if there was any humidity or if I couldn't get the volume I wanted.

When I finally left the nest and could buy my own products, I put more work into my hair. When I landed my first hair-modeling job, the stylists taught me more about products than I ever realized.

I don't spend hours on my hair, but it is my favorite physical feature so when I discovered the bald spot in June, I nearly sh!t a brick. I saw my mom that day who blamed it on past experiences dye-ing my hair. I saw my PCP a few weeks later who brushed it off as alopecia. My sister told me to start taking vitamins and wait a bit. 

Over the last couple of weeks, I noticed the spot getting bigger. A hair stylist told me he still sees all the hair follicles, so it's not permanent.... but he suggested I might be pulling my hair out in my sleep. I slept with my hands in my back pockets that night.

The dermatologist today was happy to see that hair was indeed growing back, but she didn't like the obvious signs of inflammation. She injected the spot with steroids and now I'm sitting here with one side of my head kinda numb... but reassured that when the stress (hopefully) goes away, my hair will be back.

And to start the relaxation process, I got an offer for my first interview for a transitional year in Denver, CO. 

I don't ski... but snowboarders are hot!

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I am NOT a perfectionist

I will deny it to all high hell... I am NOT a perfectionist.

So I have to attach a picture to my residency application and I want it to be hot.

Now I know what you're thinking... Bitch is crazy.

And you are correct... sorta.

Let's keep it real people. LOOKS MATTER. Anyone who says otherwise is either lying or delusional. It does not matter that this application is to be a doctor. It's essentially still a man's world. Don't worry though... I'm working on that ;)

In my non-perfectionist, non-obsessive, TOTALLY laid-back state of mind I decided to take my own picture. I went to the salon and got my hair did. I bought a new shirt from BCBG. I made RedSox stand in a corner and snap away.

After 25 dismal shots, I ripped the camera out of his hands in a silent fury and told him he did a great job.

The next day, I did my own hair. The only plain white wall I have is my bathroom door. The only camera-person around is my cat, but Sebastien was more interested in being in the picture than taking them. I did the whole camera-timer thing. 

I wore 3 different shirts and I took another 30 pictures.

I narrowed the pics down to about 10 and cropped out the cat, the fact that I was sitting on the floor, the bathroom wall and whatever else.

I sent the pics to a whole bunch of people and most chose the pic of me in a button-down that totally washed me out. The pics that I liked better had me in a gorgeous yellow, but a bit more boobalicious and me wearing my cross. 

My mom happened to love the yellow top, so she chose a couple that she liked the best and cropped the boobs and Jesus.

So after all the pics, several peoples' input and respect for professionalism and Judaism... I've chosen my picture.

And if I didn't make it clear before... I am NOT a perfectionist.

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8 sections- 9 hours

I thought there were gonna be 6 maybe 7 sections, but there were 8... 1 hour... sections plus an hour of break time. I brought a can  diet coke but maybe I should have brought two.

So last week I did pretty well on the practice exam. I got 81% of the practice questions  correct. I was hopeful that I could do that or better.

OH MY GOD... doubt it!

There were questions with answers I have never heard of. There were questions that took up a whole page (and thus much of my time). I guessed on many if not most of my answers.

I'm pretty sure I could study for YEARS and still not know many of the questions/answers for this exam.

And you know what... every damn residency committee out there makes me feel like my scores are all that matters.

I asked you all to pray and chant and ask the universe for me to get a 280. I don't think that score is even possible, but a residency director told me that I would only be considered if I got a 260.

Do you know how that makes me feel? It makes me feel like *I* don't matter.

And then I study my a$$ off to answer questions that I would probably never know the answer to even as a top notch doctor.

I wonder if one day this will be worth it... because it's not feeling like it ever has been or ever will be.

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TOMORROW

The day has finally come. I'm trying not to flip out, but clearly I am.

I pray to God that all my studying pays off. I hope I trust my brain. I will try not to change answers (since I'm sure that is what screwed me over with the first exam).

I will try to relax and eat well. I will hopefully maintain a strong drive and stay alert.

If I must guess, I hope I can narrow my choices enough to let eenie meenie miney moe work in my favor.

It's all in God's hands right now. I hope He helps me succeed.

280 280 280 280 280... Keep chanting!

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A midwestern thought

I kinda have this urge to do my transitional year in the midwest (this is with the hope that i even get interviews).

I'm talking to as many residents as possible about programs, and everyone agrees that the midwest hospitals are really nice. 

People are friendly. There's good ancillary service. It's cheap. You get a sweet hook-up.

All concluded that they didn't want to spend a full residency out there because there wasn't much going on.

Now... all I ever hear about are how good midwestern boys are. 

And I'm thinking that many, for one year, should experience some bad....

in the form of me!  

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Case Report: Chest Pain in a 27yr Female

I woke up at 5am on wednesday with chest pain. I felt nauseated. This was almost classic for a heart attack, but since I'm 27, female, non-white, in great shape and STRESSED OUTTA MY FREAKIN MIND... I concluded that I most likely had a panic attack.

I kinda wanna get an EKG anyways just to frame it and stick it on my wall... but I digress.

I had my third presentation in 4 weeks on Friday. Since I was doing chest radiology, I chose cystic fibrosis. My presentation went well and one of the docs told me it was classy and I definitely made an impression.

GREAT! except... I didn't study at all for my step 2 exam since I was freaking out about the presentation. 

The anxiety didn't go away once I finished either because Saturday my mom had a dinner party for all of the bone radiologists. 

Normally this is awesome because they're all like family and we get wasted together. This time, though, they all heard a rumor that I was applying to radiology. 

Dr. P: I hear you might be applying to radiology. Great move. You should do musculoskeletal radiology. We have the best lifestyle. Look at me. I'm on call tonight and I'm on my 3rd beer. hahaha

Me: hahaha. How is it that you know exactly what to say to convince me? I love drinking. Let's hope you don't get called tonight.

Later that night Dr. P's wife saw me give RedSox a peck on the lips and she screamed "OMG is this your boyfriend???" 

I kinda said nothing and grabbed another drink. Luckily too many people were wasted to care.

Overall the night went well. 

Today, RedSox treated me to a massage for the stress because tomorrow I start GI radiology. I'm praying they don't care about a presentation.

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YAY!

ok scratch the depression... I think I might be bipolar because today I am ecstatic!

I spent about 3 hours yesterday re-writing my personal statement. I gave it to my advisor today and he LOVED it.

The doctor who forgot about writing my recommendation may be a little miffed but more at himself for forgetting.

I got a free lunch today and a free afternoon. Tonight I've got a date with RedSox and possibly some movie time with Gorilla.

YAY!

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Ugh...

I think I'm sinking deeper into depression. I met with my Radiology advisor today. Nicest guy ever... totally flaming. He read my personal statement, liked it... then told me to rewrite the whole thing.

I'm starting to freak out again because everyone tells me I must take step 2 of the boards. I must get 50 points higher than my step 1 score. This is not impossible, but it's certainly going to drain me... again.

One of the doctor's who agreed to write a recommendation for me a few months ago totally forgot he was supposed to do it. I'm not sure if he's mad at me for not checking in sooner, but I don't want to harrass people. Freakin fine lines... trying not to cross.

I'm trying to think positively. I'm going to rewrite my essay. I'm going to do a presentation next week for my current rotation. I'm going to go on lockdown in August and study my a$$ off for step 2... and hopefully... (using prayer and the Secret)... I will get an amazing score and get an awesome residency in a big city and never have to drive.

I hate driving.

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