One down, more to go

A few hours ago, I returned from my interview in Ft. Lauderdale. Happy to be back home and away from the stress that is med school interview day.

After spending the night waking hourly between 2:00am and 5:00, I finally got up. I showered and shaved. If they only knew how much it pains me to be clean-shaven, they'd give me bonus points. Around 8:30am, I made my way over to campus and found a parking spot near the building. A few minutes before 9:00, I opened the door to the admissions office and was surprised to see about forty people nervously sitting there, staring at everyone who walked into the room. Apparently, they were interviewing other professional schools (optometry, dentistry, etc.) on the same day.

After waiting and waiting in what was becoming a sweltering room, we separated into two large groups of about 20 and began the process. Usually, this involves an admissions counselor speaking about the awesomeness of their school, someone from financial aid to scare the shit out of you about the $150,000 worth of debt you'll incur, and someone to toot your horn about how good you should feel that you're even on campus for an interview. Turns out that they receive about 2300 applications, invite 500 to interview, and accept about 230. So, sure, I guess that I could feel good about almost making it. Problem is, I don't really hope to be "runner-up."

We heard about the clinical education program they run, their awesome rural medicine effort, and their international medical missions. I was on the edge of my seat when they mentioned a three-month elective rotation in Argentina in which the lodging was provided by the school. Pretty nifty, I thought.

The Interview
After leaving the initial meeting, we were taken to meet our interviewers. I met with two faculty members who were tasked with interviewing me in order to present an evaluation to the admission committee. Per the schedule, I was supposed to interview with them for nearly an hour. Turns out that after waiting for 40 minutes, we chatted for about 15, and then I was on my way. The conversation was pleasant but I'm still trying to process how I felt about it. I was not asked directly about any of my background or anything about the interesting things I've done. Essentially, I got another "tell us how you got here" approaches. This was followed by a "why osteopathic medicine?," and "do you think you'll be able to manage the study load of medical school?" question. My reactions to all of these inquiries were, simply, to curse a lot, insinuate that the interviewers were racist and sexist, and throw my chair across the room. Personally, I think it's going to work out well for me.

Honestly, though, I felt like they weren't all that well prepared for me or - and here's where the neurotic applicant mindset takes root - that they'd already formed an opinion of me prior to my arrival in the room for the interview. What opinion they held escapes me. If they were biased against me, I think I would've detected a little antagonism. If they were biased in my favor, could they not have offered an innocent high-five or a terrorist fist bump? Anyway, I might be over thinking it a little bit. The point is that I could've phoned in for a fifteen minute interview and saved the several hundred dollars that it took to get my ass down there.

The Jackass
During these things, there is always at least one person who does their best to show off their pedigree. Usually, this is either in the form of bragging about an MCAT score, discussing their awesome research, detailing how many interviews they have, loudly asking overly detailed questions or raising points for the purpose of being noticed. This one guy from "suburban New Jersey" was this jackass. Not only did he have a voice that would make Fran Drescher nauseaous, he never shut his pie hole during the entire lunch session. He made it a point to loudly contradict or question everything that the two female 1st year students said during lunch. Keep in mind that they're joining us, in part to evaluate us, but, most likely, for a free lunch. Still everything they said was challenged or met by a overly-detailed follow-up question. Example:

"This chicken wrap is tasty. I love the tomato tortilla." [Takes bite of sandwich.]
"Actually, it's a sun-dried tomato tortilla. A tomato tortilla has a different hue."
"Umm, okay." [Rolls eyes, continues eating.]
"C'mon, you have to know the difference. You can also tell by the different texture it has."
"Umm, okay." [Fastens rope to ceiling, affixes noose to own neck, steps out of chair.]

The Dean
After lunch and an endless wait for someone to tell us something about what was going on, the Dean of the college stopped in for a conversation. If I were the school, I definitely would've put him on stage early in the day. He was enthusiastic and gregarious; a perfect salve for the rash of obsessive/compulsive, Type A applicants. (For the record, I'm not nearly as OCD or Type A as the majority of these folks. I'm quietly confident not loud and boastful.) To top it off, the guy wears quite the mustache and, I might add, he effing nails it. Personally, I'd like to believe that he enters any room though a cloud of white smoke that immediately follows a magician's explosion. Ideally, he'd be out of breath and muttering about leaving the damsel bound in rope on the railroad tracks in the desert with no hopes of the hero liberating her before the 3:10 passed.

It's so much better in person.

His talk with us was rambling but very engaging. Essentially, it was this: don't give up on your dream of being a doctor. If someone is trying to talk you out of going to medical school, don't listen to them. Also, if someone is trying to talk you into going to medical school, don't do it. It must be your dream to pursue for your own reasons.

Honestly, it was nice to have someone in his position eliminate a lot of the bullshit that gets thrown at you during these things. It was pretty refreshing to witness that degree of candor. He's a friendly, outgoing guy with a fascinating life history.

Afterward
We were told to expect a decision by the DEC 17th or so. If accepted, we have 30 days to pay a deposit to hold a place in class. The good thing (sic) is that my other interviews (WA and CA) are just on the other side of a 30-day window. :(

While waiting in the airport for my flight, I had a couple of beers with one of the guys from the interview who was from Boston. It's nice to talk about the Sox and "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia." For the record, I think that Sunny has a disproportionately loyal following in New England.

Ready, Set...

I'm in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. Tomorrow, I'm interviewing at the local Osteopathic medical school for a spot in their incoming class. So, I'm a bit anxious and excited and hopeful. This South Florida thing is sort of strange. It's pretty flat and strip-mallish. The thing is that I'm not in Lauderdale proper but Davie which is akin to telling people you're in Atlanta but really hanging out in Alpharetta: close but not quite the same.

Anywho, I interview for most of the day tomorrow. Hopefully, all will go well. I've already taped a note to the door tomorrow morning reminding me to wear pants. Yep, that should do it.

More later.

School Updates

Well, I have interviews with at least two D.O. schools. Later this week, I'll head to Ft. Lauderdale for my first D.O. interview. In February, I'll head out to the San Francisco area for another one.

In the meantime, I'm waiting to hear from schools in Atlanta, Philadelphia, and Yakima, WA. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I need at least one stinking offer of acceptance.

School Update

A couple of weeks ago, I submitted the next batch of supplemental applications and recommendation letters for osteopathic schools. Now, I'm waiting to hear back from everyone. At this point, I have, hopefully, what will be the first of several interview offers. Currently, I'm trying to get it on the books for next week but it might get pushed until after Thanksgiving.

It's Their Decision Now

On Wednesday, I returned from my interview at Mercer University School of Medicine in Macon. The interview was Tuesday, the 11th. Afterwards, I caught up with an old counselor buddy of mine, hung out with him and his family, and spent the night at their place. In all, it was a pretty fun but tiring trip.

The Interviews
I arrived on campus at the School of Medicine at about 8:30 a.m. and met the eight other applicants in the interview group. Most were younger men and women who would be graduating in the spring. Some had worked for a couple of years but I was, by far, the oldest person in the room.

The Associate Dean gave us some of his time to allow us to ask questions and to explain the curriculum, the learning approach, the school's mission and so on. Essentially, Mercer's goal is to train physicians who will practice primary care in rural or other under-served areas of Georgia. The curriculum utilizes an approach that gets students used to a clinical approach very early in the school career. Students also begin interacting with patients much earlier than traditional schools.

Next, the Financial Aid lady scared the shit out of us all by telling us how much debt we'd incur. Hell, I'm not really comfortable with the debt I presently have. Put an exponent behind it and I'm even less comfortable. Par for the course, I suppose. According to a recent survey, 41% of recent med school graduates have an educational debt of $100,000 or greater. In some cases, $100K is getting off easy.

First Interview: The Older Male Pathologist
We chatted for a while in his office about my motivations to enter medicine, about running marathons, about the volatility of start-up software companies, and many other things. Generally, I felt things were going well. Honestly, it was less of an interview and more of a pleasant conversation with someone you've just met. I felt especially good when, in response to something I said, he stopped me, went to his desk, and returned with an unused ashtray that was a picture of Elvis and Nixon shaking hands. Paydirt, I thought.

This image could be the key to my admittance into med school.

Lunch Interview: 4th Year Med Students
I left campus and headed over to the hospital to meet some 4th year students for a tour and lunch. Although not publicized, these students are evaluating you based on their interaction with you. Seems like the younger kids didn't get this memo. You know, it was a lighter version of the tragic story where someone thinks an interview is over just because you're having lunch or drinks with the interviewer and cuts loose into some inappropriate stuff. Nothing that bad happened but I thought some of them seemed to act a little bit too loose.

Anyway, I had a nice time talking with all of the students and finding out more about their experiences and such. We talked about where they were doing their away rotations and where they were thinking of applying for residencies. Thanks to my dating history, I managed to find something in common with each of them. One guy was from Douglas, GA, home of a famous ex-girlfriend of mine. Another guy was from near Nashville, GA, home of an ex-girlfriend with whom I attended her senior prom in 1989 when I was a sophomore. Another guy was from Albany, GA and knew the father of a girl that I briefly dated in college. The Albany guy may be my undoing if he mentions my name to the girl's dad. I can't accurately describe how quickly I backpedaled from knowing her really well to simply being an acquaintance. Without going into too much detail, let's just say that my friend Jeff and I wrecked a perfectly civilized debutante society ball with our drunken antics. More on it here.

Second Interview: The Younger Female Pediatrician
After lunch, I met with another faculty member, a pediatrician. We talked for about an hour about a wide variety of things. She'd really done her homework with my application. Aside from me confusing the dates when I graduated college, everything went really smoothly. She finished the conversation with a description of how the selection process works and offered me some friendly advice of what to do in the event that I don't get accepted this year. She made sure to reiterate that she wasn't suggesting that I would be rejected but just wanted to address the possibility. She finished by confiding to me that she thought my application was great, that I'd made a great addition to the student body, and that she'd strongly recommend me to the committee. So, we'll see how it goes.

The Inner Workings
So, here's what happens now. Periodically, the 10 members of the admissions committee meets to discuss the applicants and rule on them. They meet either weekly or bi-weekly, I can't recall. Anywho, during the meetings the committee reviews the candidate's applications and considers evaluations of the candidates written by the interviewers. Then, the committee members work together to assign a score to each candidate. Candidates with the highest scores, I suppose, are offered admittance. Lower score candidates roll into a pool and are reconsidered at the next meeting. At any given meeting, however, the committee may decide to admit several candidates or none; they're not bound to any quota. So, this process continues until all seats for the incoming class have been filled. Typically, a class has 60 seats. This year, however, Mercer will fill a class of 110 to account for 50 seats that will matriculate at a new 4-year campus in Savannah. So, my odds are more favorable this year.

Good Just to Interview
It turns out that among all of the applicants, only about 800 were asked to completed secondary applications. Out of those 800, only about 200 were interviewed. So, I suppose that I should feel pretty good about making it this far.

Wish me luck.


The Albany Incident -- The Backstory
During my senior year of college, I briefly dated a Jewish woman from one of my Spanish classes. Apparently, her sister was joining a debutante society and was honored at the debutante society ball. I'm not sure, but she could've been one of the first Jewish members. In retrospect, it was very much a big deal. Turns out that one of my 4-H counselor friends, Jeff, was a close friend of this girl's family. He was in town for the weekend and would be going with us to the ball.

Mistake #1: Jeff meets me at her house. When he walks up, we notice that we are wearing identical suits. We have different ties but our suits are absolutely stinking identical. We find this hilarious.

Mistake #2: My date has to go take family photos with her parents and sister and the location of the ball. She suggests that Jeff and I hang out for a few hours until they're done. She drops us off at a bar. We proceed to drink several beers and multiple shots of Jagermeister. By the time they get us, we're pretty well hammered. We proceed to the ball to mingle with the upper crust of Albany society.

Mistake #3: After we drank a few bottles of champagne at the ball, my date suggests that we all get some food from the buffet. Jeff and I decide that using plates is a little too pedestrian. We take food with our hands and eat it on the spot while in line. At one point, my date recalls some of the gross-out antics that Jeff and I described from our tenure as camp counselors. She dares us to repeat them right then and there. Although the kids at camp loved to see us eat food out of each others' mouths, the stuffy folks at the debutante ball are not amused. Really, think of a mama bird feeding a chick. Now, imagine two drunken adult males in matching suits reenacting this type of feeding in civilized society. Fifteen minutes later, as we're claiming our coats, the coat-check girls ask Jeff how long he'd been gay after witnessing our antics.

We're not. Why do you ask?

The next morning, no shit, my date's family wouldn't even acknowledge me. Seriously, they didn't even speak to me. To this day, I don't even drive near Albany. Back.

Schools Update

It's been a while since I've posted an update on my school situation. Frankly, I was tired of my usual "blah, blah, blah working-on-applications-crap, blah, blah, blah" stuff. Here's the skinny: I'm finished with all the secondary applications that I'm going to submit this go around. If nothing pans out this year, I'll retake the MCAT and reapply next summer.

Interview at Mercer University School of Medicine, 12/2007
Earlier this week, I found out that they want me to come in for an interview. So, I'll be heading down to Macon to speak with them in early December. It's pretty good news! I'm excited and anxious about it. It looks like they're the front-runners. I'll post more on this as it develops. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Rejected by Boston University
So, I'm not going to be in Bean-town. A few weeks ago, I got their rejection letter via email. Seriously, it was the nicest thing ever. See for yourself:

The Committee on Admissions of Boston University School of Medicine has completed its review of your application. It is with great regret that I inform you that we will be unable to offer an interview this year. This is a disappointment, as much for those who are responsible for the decision as it may be for you, the candidate who is turned away.

Most of the candidates we are considering this year are qualified to attend medical school and are likely to make important contributions to our profession and to society. Sadly, with more than 100 applicants for every seat in the class, we are forced to deny many exceptional people.

We acknowledge and respect your accomplishments and recognize that our inability to offer you an opportunity to complete the admissions process is a loss for Boston University. Please accept our best wishes for all your future endeavors.

As nice as the letter is, I strongly disagree with the last sentence of the first paragraph. It's as much a disappointment for those that made the decision, the rejectors, as for me, the rejectee? Somehow, I think I probably feel worse about it. When they made their decision, did they choke back tears while downing a cocktail and watching reruns of Judge Judy at 4 p.m. in their pajamas? My guess is "no."

Whatever. Hell, if they feel that bad about it, I'll interview with them; I've got the time.

Final List
So, here's a quick list of the places to which I submitted supplemental applications:

We'll see how this thing turns out.

That's it. The die is cast. Honestly, I'm tired of stressing out about all of it and of waiting to hear something from places. I'll post more updates as they happen.