Serendipity

I quit my job today. Yes, I was sad, but mostly I was giddy. In four days I'm leaving home and heading to a new town in a new state to start a new chapter in my life.

Over the past few months, I have spent an absurd amount of time reading about public schools and taking virtual tours of houses trying to make what needs to happen next week a little easier. Moving a family is a whole lot more complicated than just packing up my lonesome and venturing into the unknown. My mantra is to have faith and lean into it. I am sure that I sound like a silly romantic, but sometimes the good that life has to give you is so much more than you can imagine.

Last fall, I read The Alchemist as I flew to interviews. The protagonist in the story is reminded to watch for signs and trust what nature brings to him. While walking along the beach with my sister a few weeks ago, I noticed what I thought was an oddly-shaped mass of seaweed. As I got closer, I realized that it was nothing natural at all, but a sea-worn resin statuette of Ganesh.

 

What a beautiful gift from the Atlantic! Ganesh is the Hindu god of intellect and wisdom, and he is often referred to as the Remover of Obstacles and the Lord of Beginnings. Though I am not Hindu, I appreciate this gift from nature for what it is: a sign of things to come and a reminder to trust that all of this will work out for my good.

At what cost?

When I told my big brother of my plans to got to medical school, he said to me, "That's great, Vieve, but it will come at a cost." My thought: Well, duh.

I am face-to-face with a few of those "costs" right now. In one week, I'll be moving to Texas without my family. My belongings are in an incredible state of disarray, and I feel a bit overwhelmed by the prospect of finding a home to purchase before school starts on July 31. Monday will be my last day at the job I've thoroughly enjoyed for the past three years. These are just a few of the most evident "costs" that my brother was referring to. (The pain and suffering of biochemistry earlier this year was yet another one.) Having just turned 39, I've been thinking lots about embarking on this daunting intellectual and physical journey so late in life. Frankly, I think medical school will take more out of me than someone 17 years younger.

As hard as change is, I can't help but think of what it would cost me to not go to medical school. What is the cost of burying a dream? How do you even begin to measure that? I can quantitatively asses the price of tuition, the expense of moving, the lost wages of leaving the workforce and quitting before being vested in the pension plan, the cost-of-living difference for my family, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum. But this really isn't about measuring the economic opportunity costs. It is about living my life, and staying put also has its price.

I was reminded of this last week when I ran into one of my colleagues in the hall. We worked together on a couple of projects a year ago, but I haven't seen her much lately. "Aren't you leaving for medical school soon?" she asked. I smiled a toothy grin and told her I would be gone in less than two weeks. She just shook her head and told me, "I'm so jealous. I wish I had done that when I was your age." Sharon is in her early 60s. All my doubts about what this venture will cost me and my family just seemed to disappear.

Ah, family reunion time

A few weeks back, 17-year-old Mini-Me said, "Mom, how come you don't ever get overwhelmed?" I just laughed and set her straight.

Just yesterday, my mother-in-law let me know that it would be really nice if I would put together an electronic photo album to be included in a slide show at the up-coming family reunion. I knew that one of the other daughters-in-law had committed to doing the slide show and I vaguely promised to get some pictures together sometime.

As the reminder statement turned into a reminder paragraph, my "overwhelmed" leaked out. I began my apology, "I'm sorry that I really haven't made it a priority to do that yet. You see, I've been fairly swamped with more pressing things such as the remodel of the duplex we are trying to sell before we move out of state which is already two months behind schedule and working with a loan officer out of state trying to figure out what type of loan we can qualify for and researching the schools for the children while taking the biochemistry class that was fortunately graded on a curve so that my failing grade was bumped up to a B+ and a few projects at work that have seven people's jobs riding on them as well as the recent diagnosis my 14-year-old received a few months ago and trying to juggle his medical appointments for his chronic condition while trying to get some loose ends tied up such as getting Mini-Me started with an orthodontist who is located close to the campus she will be living at when she starts college this fall and trying to convince her that it really is time to get registered for classes and she is just so nervous but really doing so well (did I mention she just took her AP calculus test?) and I really wanted to reward her with a trip to DC as a graduation present but for some reason I'm not sure how comfortable I feel leaving behind the rest of my kids with your son who seems to be increasingly resentful that I am excited to go to school out of state since that means it will indeed require effort on his part to look for a job when the guy really isn't comfortable putting himself "out there" but, you know, I am planning on quitting the second week of July and that really only leaves me with less than three weeks to move and get settled in a new city with a household of kids while my husband continues to reside and work in the city where we currently live since there is no way on earth we can afford for him to just quit his job and hope for the best considering we are moving to a "metro" area about one-quarter the size of our small city."

She smiled and said, "Well, just get the pictures to So-and-So when you can."

Today, there was a message in my in-box from said daughter-in-law joking that "all you procrastinators" really needed to get these pictures in ASAP since the reunion is now a month away. Funny, only the women in the family were carbon-copied on that email. No men. None of the brothers. Sigh. Seeing as it is after midnight and all is quiet in my house and I am actually on the computer with the photos saved to the hard-drive, I managed to overcome my procrastinating tendency and send her a file with the requested photos.

Yep. I am so pumped for this reunion.

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.

Keeping it together

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.

How are your kids dealing with this?

Change is one of the few inevitabilities of life. And everyone approaches it differently. People often ask me how my kids are doing as we plan for the almost-certain move. ("Almost-certain?" you may ask. Well, remember my state school? Yep. He still hasn't called for a second date.)

My kids are pretty much like everyone else on the planet; change is hard for them. Each of them, however, is approaching our move to a city some 1600 miles away differently.

 Princess (my teen--no, this isn't her real name) has been very worried about moving out of state. She hates change. In fact, she tolerate a lot of other stuff she hates as long as it's familiar.

My son Spitfire, on the other hand, says he "can't wait to leave this place." I told him that he might have expectations that are a tad-bit unrealistic. Spitfire is a rather independent guy who likes to hop on his bike and ride to the city library that is in the middle of an eclectic shopping area. Ain't nothing like this where we are heading. I'm not 100% certain, but I think cyclists might be counted as double-point, moving targets for drivers there. None the less, it is a college town, so I'm sure he can find things to do.

Mini-Me is my oldest. Her name has to do with her appearance and not her temperament. I had suggested to Mini that she might want to apply to a school a little closer to the one I will be attending, but she was certain that she wanted to go to the college she got into. Seeing me prep for my biochemistry midterm (think of mapping metabolic pathways on huge sheets of paper) maked her feel terrified of the amount of studying she'll have to do. "This is actually kind of fun," I tell her. In an effort to be reassuring, I add, "Even if I only get a 50%, the curve keeps me from failing." To this, she simply rolls her eyes. She has been very worried that she won't be able to hack it when she begins college this fall. Though I have tried to foster independence in her from a young age, I find myself wondering if I have done enough. I know she'll be OK, but I'm her mom; I worry.

I recently took a brief trip with some of my kids (yes, I have more than the three mentioned above) to tour the city we will (most-likely) be moving to and to look at a few homes. Princess went along and already feels better about the move. Either she has gotten better at lying, or she has put some real energy into facing her fears lately. I hope it is the latter. Spitfire was so confident that he'd like the new place, that he opted not to go with us on our trip.

The entire family will be traveling to the "new" town in a couple of weeks when my kids are on Spring Break.  Am I worried about their perceptions of it? You bet! If I get into my state school, then my husband and I will have a tough decision to make. If I don't get into my state school, then we will be moving regardless of what my teenagers put me through. Gulp. No pressure.

Is Khan Academy adequate for MCAT prep?

I love Khan Academy!

The most "pro-MCAT prep" argument for Khan Academy is that Sal often uses  example problems that don't require a calculator. The problems you work on the MCAT won't require a calculator (at least until 2015--take it before then if you can), and so Sal's problems are more like what you will encounter on the actual test then class exams or textbook practice sets.

The biggest con for Khan is that it is not MCAT-specific. That means you will be spending a lot of time getting information that you do not need. Don't get me wrong, the material covered on the MCAT is pretty darn vast. You willneed a broad exposure, but Khan Academy may not be the best place to get it if you are short on time. If you do have the time to watch the series on chemistry, organic chemistry, and biology videos, then go for it. The reality is, however, most of us don't have that time.

I recommend getting a program that is geared for MCAT prep like ExamKrackers. (I checked their books out for free from my public library.) Work through their books. You will undoubtedly come to a section that maybe isn't written in a way you understand (or that you didn't get the first time through in your prereq class). That is the perfect time to check out what Sal has to offer. By taking this approach, you will focus on much more high-yield material that you are more likely to encounter on the actual exam.

Bottom line: Getting high-yield concepts down pat needs to be your greatest priority. Khan Academy can help you learn the concepts, but it will not identify which concepts are of greatest relevance to the MCAT.