The Shuffle

Medical school applicants cannot hold more than one acceptance past May 15. Before that magical date, you can sit tight, waffling back and forth, filling out pro/con charts, and otherwise hem-and-ha over which school is right for you. Once accepted applicants are forced to take a stand, the flood-gates open, so to speak, and there is pretty active movement happening on waitlists throughout the country. Schools suddenly find themselves with openings and there is a rapid shuffling to fill them. My husband was hoping that tomorrow might bring an acceptance for me from my state school. Considering that I withdrew my application from them a week ago, it is highly unlikely.

So why did I do it? I'll spill the beans. Out-of-State University of Awesomeness is a Texas school. Have I already sung the praises of Texas medical schools? Let me tell you, they are fantastic! You see, Texas is pretty darn picky with their out-of-staters. State law requires that at least 90% of students are Texas residents. Some admissions offices set that number at 95%. That said, many applicants don't bother to apply to Texas since (1) the chance of getting in is so low and (2) Texas has its own application system for its eight medical schools. [FYI: Baylor is a private school, but it does receive some state funds and shows a preference for Texan applicants. Baylor uses the national AMCAS application.] Though I wasn't a fan of sending transcripts and entering data into an entirely separate and time-consuming database (TMDSAS), I was very pleased with the entire application process. My state school interviews many, many, many more people than they intend to offer positions to. Roughly one-quarter of interviewees are offered admission. Some schools offer admission to about half of their interviewees. Texas schools tend to do a more thorough screening prior to interview. That means that some schools extend acceptances to nearly three-quarters of the applicants that they interview. Got multiple Texas interviews? There is a good chance you'll get in to at least one of them.

Texas does a Match Day for med school that is similar to residency matching. As an out-of-stater, I did not go through the match process, but found it fun to follow on applicant forums. Even without applying early decision, Texas residents (as a whole) were more likely to know where they would end up significantly earlier than the typical med school applicant. Out-of-state applicants are offered admission on a rolling basis. My acceptance came three weeks after interviewing at one school.

But I really haven't gotten to my favorite part. Texas is affordable! The tuition at Texas medical schools is some of the lowest in the nation. My in-state school has a rate of $35,000 per year. Out-of-state tuition at a Texas school is lower than that. Tuition for Texas residents ranges from about $15,000 to $18,000 per year. If you are awarded a competitive scholarship as a non-resident, you may qualify for in-state tuition during your first year. Unlike many states, you can establish residency during your first year and be reclassified. (That is, if you actually meet legal residency requirements.)It's pretty amazing. I am planning on a career in family medicine. The affordable tuition in Texas really makes it possible to pursue that path without feeling over-burdened with debt.

There are other reasons why I am ready to move to Texas. Lots of them. But the freedom of moving into a new career relatively late in life without much debt is one of the greatest feelings imaginable.

Didn't get in this time around?

Did you apply to medical school and only receive a few "unfortunately we are unable to..." letters?

It's bound to happen. There are simply too many well-qualified medical school applicants out there for everyone to find a seat. If you made it to an interview, chances are, you're well-qualified. Instead of beating yourself up or driving yourself crazy over what you should have done differently, you might want to take a Freakonomics time-out. Here's a great little (so, so sad) post to put things in perspective for you!

By the way, if you weren't a well-qualified applicant, there truly are things you can do to boost your odds of admission on your second try. Areas to review:

1. Your GPA. If your GPA is <3.5 and you are almost done with your bachelor's degree, you probably will not be able to make it move significantly. You might want to consider a master's degree program in medical sciences. Lots of schools offer these. 
2. Your MCAT score. What did you do to prep? In all honesty, do you think you can do better?
3. Your personal statement. Too many people forget that it is personal, meaning, don't just say the same thing all applicants say. (Some common cliches to avoid: I just love helping people; I find the human body fascinating; I've always wanted to do this; my science courses challenged and inspired me.)
4. The types of extracurricular activities you listed. Some schools are looking for specific activities such as research, volunteer work, and clinical experience. Find out what your schools are looking for and exceed their expectations. Volunteering in a hospital for a few four-hour shifts a month can take care of two of these requirements.
5. The way you wrote about those activities. Don't bother to list anything if all you are going to do is LIST them. As succinctly as possible, share how this experience has prepared you for a career in medicine. With 15 extracurriculars that you can write about, you certainly are not expected to give in-depth details for all of them, but don't waste this chance to convince them that you are just what they are looking for.

Falling in love

Do I fall in love too easily? Today’s visit at Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine felt like love. It felt like they loved me and, frankly, I can reciprocate. The day was sunny and bright and beautiful, and the weather was pretty good, too!

So what’s the love about? TCOM is an innovator. It was one of the first schools to develop a systems-based, integrated curriculum. It has a sim lab that served as the model for Mayo and the anatomy lab was set up by a former surgeon general (C. Everett Koop, I believe—my personal favorite SG.) There are computers at each tank and a mobile camera for all to observe particularly interesting finds on the large-screen monitors throughout the room. Students have 24-hour access to both labs.

 

The classrooms are massive. Not my favorite, but expected for such a large school with 240 students per class. There are screens in the classroom and each student has a personal mike for asking (or answering) questions. The OMM lab has five cameras on the demo table and plenty of monitors throughout.

How do they make the large classes feel not so overwhelming? Students are divided into four “colleges”—think Hogwarts School of Medicine. Each college provides students with a support network for studying and socializing. The students are further divided (not sure if this is a cross colleges or not) into work groups of 6-7 people. These are the same folks you will be doing group assignments with throughout your first two years.

 
Whatever their recipe for success is, it seems to be working. The school has one of the highest COMLEX pass rates and 90% of their students sit for USMLE Step 1 (and have a pass rate on par with any other med school in the nation).

I know that at some point in time, I would like to be involved in academic medicine. TCOM is a place where I truly would feel comfortable. It is collegial and inviting. One of my interviewers was a “second-career” DO. He was soft-spoken and very encouraging. The interview ended with him saying, “We need to find your husband a job here.”

 

My second interview was even more calming than my first. We sat down and he let me know that he read my file thoroughly. He liked what he read, and told me so. We talked a little about the journey of life. I felt like I was speaking to a kindred spirit.

And that is the greatest love. Finding kindred spirits in life is so rejuvenating. I know that TCOM would be full of them. No, not 240, but enough. Maybe I have settled into a place in my life where connecting with such spirits is easy. Maybe I’ve become better able at trusting my intuition and feeling things out. I like what I felt today. It felt like home. A strange, unfamiliar, comfortable home.

Premed Application Valentine Saga

Remember a time when you had a crush on a guy, and he didn't even give you the time of day? Maybe it was middle school or high school. I've kind of got that thing going on now. Kinda.

You see, my state school is one of those guys who thinks he's All That. God's gift to med students, if you will. Here's how our conversation has played out so far.

Me: Hey, you're kind of cute. Here's my number (application).

State School: Yeah. I know. You're not so bad yourself. (Read: fill out the secondary.)

Me: So you wanna go on a date (interview) or something?

State School: Sure. Why don't you come to my place. We can double. (He's keeping his options open.) How about lunch?

State School: By the way, don't call me. I'll call you. Maybe.

Time passes. A semester ends. Grades are posted.

Me: So, hey, what's up? I'm, you know, still here. And I haven't heard from you. And thought maybe you lost my number. Maybe you wanna go out again? (In other words, I sent an update with a list of courses I completed and my grades--4.0, of course.)

State School: Cool. ("Thank you for your update. It was added to your file.")

Me: Cool. (As in, "Where do you get off wait-listing 95% of the people you interview! Really?")

State School: <Silence>

Meanwhile, I decided to date another school. This one was out of state. Maybe he wasn't quite as cute as my state school, but he certainly wasn't as stuck up. Now I'm in some sort of New Order-esque "Bizarre Love Triangle."

Other School: Hey, Vieve, wanna go out?

Me: Whatever. I don't have anything else to do.

Other School:  Hey, Vieve, I'm really into you.

Me: Whatever.

Other School: I got you a present ("We are pleased to offer you a scholarship...")

Me: Wow. This is kinda serious.

State School: <Silence>

Other School: Wanna move in?

Here I am, crushing on this school that's student-body president while this down-to-earth, sweet-as-pie other school is looking at me with puppy dog eyes. Of course, giving in to his puppy dog eyes means that I'll be selling my house, packing up my family, and moving a thousand miles away. I find myself feeling a little resentful towards my state school. It's like he's just leading me on and toying with my heart by not giving me a "thank you for your application, but..." letter. Why? Why do you have to play hard to get? If  you are this hard to get a second date with, I'm wondering if you are really even my type. Really, what's a girl to do?

Don't let the turkeys get you down

My father was fond of saying, "Don't let the turkeys get you down." He'd usually quickly add, "Gobble! Gobble!" and a big smile.  Shortly before Father's Day one year, I found a button (it was the '80s)  with an illustration by Sandra Boynton. A somewhat clumsy-looking elephant was pinned down by a rafter of clueless turkeys.

 As a kid, I had a vague idea of what Dad meant. I thought of it as "don't get sad about things idiots do  or say to you." As a parent, I've hoped to instill a sense of resilience in my children. Life has many upsets and learning to roll with it--to adapt--is a valuable skill. It just seems that, at times, the turkeys are just a little too close to home.

Dozens of congratulations popped up on my wall when I posted my acceptance to Facebook last week. It felt great. It reminded me of the many people who have been cheering me along the way over the past few years as I headed back to school and prepped to apply. One person made a comment reminding me not to forget my kids while I was in medical school. Nice. I just shrugged it off. I've been a mom long before getting into medical school, and I'll be a mom long after finishing medical school. That turkey didn't get me down.

But then Christmas happened. Or, rather, dinner at my in-laws happened.

On the way to their house, my 14-year-old daughter asked, "Mom, are you going to tell Grandma that you've been accepted to medical school."

"I don't know if I'll bring it up," I answered. "When I told Grandma and Grandpa a few months ago that I was applying, they just kind of stared at me." I thought for a moment. "Yes. Definitely. If they ask, I'll tell them."

"What if they don't ask?"

"Well, I guess that means they don't care. Maybe?" and I just shrugged my shoulders.

I've been struggling this week with the idea of going to school out-of-state. Moving means losing so many familiar things, especially for my kids.  My father's parents were gone before I was born and my mother's parents lived on the other side of the country. With both of my parents gone, it has been important to me to make time for my kids to see their grandparents who live just an hour away.

Not too surprisingly, my in-laws did not ask me how the application process was going. Back in October, I explained to them that I already took the classes and the "big exam." My applications were turned in and I was waiting for invitations to interview at places that might be interested in me. Hopefully, medical school would be part of my near future. "What are you going to do with that?" my father-in-law had asked.

So when it came time to get our coats back on and head out the door after the visit, I had a very odd feeling. I didn't want to keep a secret from them, especially if it meant we would be moving, but I also didn't want them to burst my bubble. Then my husband spoke. "Guess what? Vieve just got the best Christmas present imaginable, and it wasn't from me."

My mother-in-law's face lit up. She leaned in, "What was it?"

"She just got accepted to medical school," and he put his arm around me.

Suddenly, I felt swept away with excitement. "Yeah. I had three interviews last month, and I was really afraid I wouldn't hear back from any schools before Christmas, but Med School in Another State let me know on Friday that I was accepted and I'll even get a scholarship, and I'm just so excited!"

She leaned back and looked perplexed. "Are you going to do that online?"

Pop.

"Um," I couldn't help but smile a little, "there are no online medical schools in the country." Feeling a bit confused, wondering if they were a bit confused, I added, "I'm going to be an MD."

My father-in-law spoke up. "You know what 'MD' stands for, don't you?"

He was standing directly behind me, so I turned around to meet his smiling face. He always has a corny joke to tell, and I thought that it might help take the edge off of the disappointment I felt. I smiled broadly, "No, what?"

"Mostly Dumb. After all, they can only practice and never get it right."

I just hugged him and said, "Merry Christmas."

I hugged my mother-in-law, too, and thanked her for dinner. My sister-in-law and her husband were also standing by the doorway and had said nothing so far. She just looked at me and said, "Uh. That's exciting news."  I gave them good-bye hugs as well.

Maybe it isn't fair of me to expect them to be excited about this. Maybe they are just deeply concerned about the welfare of my children, like the aforementioned Facebooker. Maybe they're just turkeys.

MCAT (take 2) Scores Released!

Verbal Reasoning went down by one point to 11--big whoop, still sizzlin'.

Physical Sciences went up by one point to 8--that's good enough for me.

Biological Science--bam!--jumped up FOUR points to an 11.

Sweet, sweet, sweet satisfaction. 26o to 30p.

Mini-Me

Mini-Me is 17 and a senior in high school. Needless to say, she resembles her mother. Though she is convinced that I have no idea what she is going through, I'd say that we are both in the same boat. Or at least, we rented our canoes from the same place.

Mini is feeling a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of applying to college. It doesn't help that I keep telling her she needs to get her applications in right away. How nice it must be to decide if you want to apply to three places or stretch yourself and apply to five! (Jealously point #1.) So far, I think she has decided to exclude schools that have an essay section on their applications. (Jealousy point #2.)

She took her first ACT exam this spring. With a score of 29, Mini believed that she could have done better if she had actually gone through the prep book I bought her. Frankly, I think a 29 is a great score, but I'm always delighted to hear my kids say they want to best themselves. So, Mini registered to take the ACT a week after I was scheduled to retake the MCAT.

M's scores arrived at our house yesterday, two weeks earlier than expected. She opened the envelope with a big smile on her face, but it quickly faded. She scored a 30 on the second go-round. "That's awesome!" I said. She just glared at me.

The day of her retake, Mini came home happy. "I know that I did so much better," she told her dad and me. "I finished all of the questions, not leaving a single one blank this time. I think I'm going to get a 33." She's a smart girl, and math is her forte, but her dad and I were quick to remind her that scoring in the 94th percentile (jealousy point #3) didn't give her much room for growth. Her score of 29 meant that she'd definitely get scholarships at the state schools (JP #4). That said, her optimism was inspiring. I had taken my test a week earlier and loved the idea of having my score increase by 4 points. I, too, felt like I had done so much better on the second test.

Mothering has got to be the best way to find yourself face-to-face with your own issues. On one hand, I'm reassuring my daughter, trying to get her to be OK with her score and see it as a victory. On the other hand, my fear of not doing better on the MCAT suddenly jumped out of the closet. Really, truly, honestly, I thought I was fine with it. I thought I was in a comfortable, wait-and-see sort of place. Mini's disappointment has given me a new dread for Tuesday.

Such a LONG road

This is one ridiculously long road to go down. (Yeah, yeah, yeah--I know that applies to all of medical education.) If you are thinking about applying next cycle, push your "submit" button as close to June 1 as possible. Maybe, just maybe, that might make the wait a little less painful?

I applied to medical schools through three systems in July: AMCAS, TMDSAS, and AACOMAS. I started AMCAS first (in May) and submitted it last (early July) as I felt so particular about what I wrote for each of my 15 extracurriculars. I hope that extra crafting helped, because it took the full six weeks ("expect 3-6 weeks") to get verified. That was nerve-wracking. The Texas system was the quickest one to verify. I got verified with them in just under three weeks. AACOMAS was three weeks and a couple of days.

As of August 21, my application is complete at 9 schools. (It helps that Houston, San Antonio, and Gavleston do not require a secondary application.) Right now I am insanely excited to finally be verified by AMCAS and feel the urge to push out three or four secondaries by the end of the week. A little reality check, though. School starts tomorrow for my kids. I'm retaking the MCAT in 10 days, and I just started a genetics class at today. Secondaries must wait until after the MCAT is put to rest.

Introduction

I think my husband has just about heard it all. And so I am casting my words out into the Blogosphere. (I guess I'm saying, "Who cares? Maybe someone.") In truth, he is supportive, but this venture is inevitably far more thrilling to me than it is to him.

So here I am. A mother with a full-time job and a heavy course-load getting ready to take the MCAT in April. And I'm 37. I'll be 43 in June 2017--the same month I become an MD. I feel like right now I am looking at the travel brochures for the biggest journey in my life. Where to go, how to get there--the future feels pretty uncertain, but that's were the adventure lies.