Last week was fairly sleepless for me. It was split between studying for a biochemistry exam and writing a grant application.
Biochemistry would not be such a worry for me if my professors (ugh! team-teaching at its worse) would let us know the normalized grades. The class is graded on a curve and their approach is to structure the tests so that the majority of the students fail, and then they will raise that failing grade to a B or C based on a normal distribution. Yesterday the TAs announced special study sessions before the final that would be opened only to students with an average less than 55%. There was lots of grumbling in the room. Making a concerted effort to raise just the bottom tail of the curve could really affect students who are teetering on the edge. Of course, out of 250 students in the room, I had to be that person who asked, "What about the rest of us? Does that mean over 55 is passing?" It makes me wonder what sort of approach Out-of-State University of Awesomeness will take in structuring grades and offering support. I'm pretty sure all the classes in med school will need to be graded on a curve.
As a side note, this biochemistry class is at the very same college that is my in-state med school. I did not go to this school as an undergraduate and I did the vast majority of my post-bacc premed work at the local community college (1/2 the price and better hours). This is only the third course I have taken at In-State University. The community college crowd is about a million times more friendly.
Having said that, my heart was not too broken three weeks ago when In-State University said to me, "We like you enough to offer you a place at our school only if the people we like more decided they like some place else more than they like us." Waitlisted. I had a nice five and a half month post-interview wait to find out that I am cordially invited to wait some more. My first response was that of frustration, mostly because my husband then responded with, "So when do you really need to decide if you are going to Out-of-State University of Awesomeness? Didn't you say something about May?" We've been married for a very long time, and for the life of me, I still do not fully grasp how the cogs in his head spin. Our kids have gotten increasingly loopy over the indecision ever since Awesomeness extended the offer in late December. When I told Princess I was waitlisted by In-State U, she said, "That means we are definitely moving to Mini-Metropolis, right?" Big sigh, "Well...Dad seems to think In-State U is going to make me an offer any day now." Can you tell he has a bit of a problem with the prospect of moving? Just a bit.
Spring Break for my kids was the week after In-State U said, "Hmm...maybe." We packed up our car and took a little road trip. I am not exactly sure what adjective to use to describe driving 2,000 miles in one week. Great? (As in "large.") Exhausting? Informative? Expensive? (Needed to get new brakes and rotors on our return trip, on a Sunday afternoon.) Productive? I took my teens to visit two high schools, met with a mortgage broker in town, and identified two houses that my husband and I would feel comfortable buying. (Now I'm waiting to see what sort of loan we can get with an out-of-state move and losing my income.) I have not yet withdrawn my application from In-State U per my husband's request, but I will as soon as he 1) gets a job offer--yes, he did apply to one position--or 2) we are ready to go to closing on a house.
When I got back from this "vacation," I got to step into the middle of a grant application. The work I do is funded through federal grants. Personally, I am all for smaller government, but the impact of decreased federal spending means that five people at work will be laid off on July 1. If I chose to work past July 1, that would mean that one of my coworkers would be fired and then rehired after I quit my job two weeks later. Needless to say, I'm one of the people leaving on July 1. More than half of the funds from this grant are competitive. (Sorry if that is too jargon-y.) If we are not one of the 25 awardees, another nine coworkers will lose their jobs. The high-stakes stress was palpable. I spent my time revising the application, evaluating its content, and documenting our process-flow. Oh, yes, and serving as a intermediary between two groups of people that were grappling over final say of the application.
So here's what this past week of biochem and grant writing has reaffirmed to me: I like being in the fray. I like doing stuff and I like doing a lot of stuff. It was tiring, but it was doable, and it kept my brain actively engaged. Last night, my husband and I threw together a picnic and spent two hours in the park with the kids. It feels so good to relax when I honestly feel like I have something to relax from. I love to play, and playing just feels better to me after I've spent time working. The past 10 days have given me just a little more confidence that medical school won't be too overwhelming. It will take me to the edge, but I'll be able to keep my balance.
