I don't think I intend for this blog to be solely about my medical journey. There are lots of blogs that do that. I don't even think my journey is that abnormal. I'm not a 40-year-old non-traditional student looking to switch careers. Sure, I've switched my major oh... 3 times? But that doesn't make me unique in the least.
I will say that I love to write, and I think that providing commentary on this interesting journey provides me some relief from the stresses of academics, studying for the MCAT, extracurriculars, and my complete lack of a social life.
I also think that it would be interesting to delve into the other areas of my life - the struggle with my weight, the ups and downs of friendships and relationships, and my views on society and culture today, as biased and jaded as they may be.
While I don't ever intend to identify myself, I know that I have often found comfort in reading the anonymous journeys of others, and some of my favourite blogs have been those that don't identify the writer. I like keeping the mystery. I like sharing myself without the vulnerability and risk that come with voicing an opinion and being afraid that others in my personal and professional life will judge me for what I write here.
I will provide some context by saying that I am currently residing in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. You may or may not know that my city is currently experiencing severe floods - a once in a lifetime event. Growing up here, I am no stranger to weird weather occurrences. I have worn a cute summer dress only to be hailed on. It really develops one's instinct and survival skills to find shelter with the aim of avoiding being pelted by golf-ball sized hail. I have also donned a parka only to find that once I leave the house, it is 20 degrees outside. But you keep that damn parka on because it could snow later that day (and oh, honey, you know it will snow later that day).
It seems that every June, we are pounded by rain and thunder. It becomes difficult to distinguish one dreary day from the next. In 2005, I remember the Bow and Elbow rivers quickly rising in level. Water was everywhere. It was a shocking event, and many were affected. I never thought, however, that I would see something similar in magnitude again, so to witness an event that is significantly worse comes as a shock.
I don't want to delve into details, but it is truly eery to walk into the grocery store to buy your usual supplies, only to find line-ups an hour long, full of people hoarding milk, bread, cans of unperishables, and gallons upon gallons of water. I was almost embarrassed to be holding my meagre basket of essentials. I thought I should be stocking up for an event of apocalyptic proportions.
Now here I am in my house, thankfully far away from the evacuation zones. I can't resist watching the news and refreshing city website to learn more about this event. I'm saddened but interested at the same time. Nothing exciting seems to happen here, and I often found myself hoping that something exciting would happen. You know, like running into Ryan Gosling on my cul-de-sac or something. Not this. Definitely not this. I truly regret wishing that my city would be less boring. I don't want excitement to happen to us in quite this way.
I feel like I should be studying for the MCAT, but I can't stop thinking about my displaced friends, and about the worst possible scenarios. I can't help but wonder what has happened to my favourite restaurants and cafes, all in areas deep underwater. I hope that the damage isn't that bad. I hope things can be restored soon enough. In terms of employment, part of my work is in an evacuated area. I am unsure of where to go on from here. I just hope that everyone and everything will be okay.
And I'm thankful to be warm and dry today (ignoring the fact that my roof is leaking, but that's minor in the grand scheme of things).
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
The MCAT: A Test in Sanity Maintenence
So, I bit the bullet and signed up for the MCAT on August 22. I thought, "Hey, take it a year early in case you don't get that 11+ VR so you can rewrite!"
FUCK REWRITING!!! I want to write this beast once and once only.
It seems that my biggest hurdle to jump is that of summer laziness syndrome. Pretty sure it's an actual medical condition. The trees and flowers are in bloom and instead of being stuck at my desk studying, I want to be tanning my winter paleness away. I want to take naps in the sun and read for leisure. I want a fling, a long weekend spent at a music festival, the taste of cold water hitting the back of my throat after a day in the summer heat.
Another hurdle is my complete lack of social life lately. I haven't seen any of my closest friends in three weeks. They are busy getting jobs and travelling and GRADUATING and here I am, doing dull Organic Chemistry passages. I forgot how much I look forward to the monotony and routine of weekly bar nights (I even miss getting hit on by 18 year old douche bags). Being single at this time seems to be of the utmost inconvenience, since I have no one to rant to, my friends don't seem to understand (studying for the LSAT seems far easier than the MCAT), and damn it, I just want a cuddle once in a while! And I'm not even much of a cuddler.
I gained weight in April and May and as a result, I have been living in lululemon leggings (thank goodness for spandex) and baggy sweaters. The lethargy, however, prompted me to start the Insanity workout program, which has left every part of my body on fire, and has made it even more difficult to get out of bed in the morning, what with the limited range of motion in every limb of my body due to extreme muscle stiffness.
I was told not to take on any commitments, but my broke ass seems to benefit from my part-time job (and exposure to society on a daily basis) and continued volunteering at the Children's Hospital. Perhaps my favourite time of week falls on Tuesday mornings, where I get to maul Play-Doh* while 4-year-olds watch in sheer terror.
*Honours thesis idea: analysis into the stress response - effects of mandated Play-Doh play sessions on well-being.
When the going gets tough, and when I realize that I have been staring at my window or the wall for at least 30 minutes, I whisper to myself that it'll be worth it when scores come back in September, but it feels difficult to look past all the fun things that happen in the less than four months of warm weather we get in my neck of the woods. Canada, you cold and icy bitch of a nation. Knowing your devilish ways, I expect test day to conveniently coincide with the first major snowfall of winter.
For now, I struggle to maintain composure. I find it mildly effective to listen to cheesy 90s pump-up music in order to maintain some semblance of excitement about this dry material.
FUCK REWRITING!!! I want to write this beast once and once only.
It seems that my biggest hurdle to jump is that of summer laziness syndrome. Pretty sure it's an actual medical condition. The trees and flowers are in bloom and instead of being stuck at my desk studying, I want to be tanning my winter paleness away. I want to take naps in the sun and read for leisure. I want a fling, a long weekend spent at a music festival, the taste of cold water hitting the back of my throat after a day in the summer heat.
Another hurdle is my complete lack of social life lately. I haven't seen any of my closest friends in three weeks. They are busy getting jobs and travelling and GRADUATING and here I am, doing dull Organic Chemistry passages. I forgot how much I look forward to the monotony and routine of weekly bar nights (I even miss getting hit on by 18 year old douche bags). Being single at this time seems to be of the utmost inconvenience, since I have no one to rant to, my friends don't seem to understand (studying for the LSAT seems far easier than the MCAT), and damn it, I just want a cuddle once in a while! And I'm not even much of a cuddler.
I gained weight in April and May and as a result, I have been living in lululemon leggings (thank goodness for spandex) and baggy sweaters. The lethargy, however, prompted me to start the Insanity workout program, which has left every part of my body on fire, and has made it even more difficult to get out of bed in the morning, what with the limited range of motion in every limb of my body due to extreme muscle stiffness.
I was told not to take on any commitments, but my broke ass seems to benefit from my part-time job (and exposure to society on a daily basis) and continued volunteering at the Children's Hospital. Perhaps my favourite time of week falls on Tuesday mornings, where I get to maul Play-Doh* while 4-year-olds watch in sheer terror.
*Honours thesis idea: analysis into the stress response - effects of mandated Play-Doh play sessions on well-being.
When the going gets tough, and when I realize that I have been staring at my window or the wall for at least 30 minutes, I whisper to myself that it'll be worth it when scores come back in September, but it feels difficult to look past all the fun things that happen in the less than four months of warm weather we get in my neck of the woods. Canada, you cold and icy bitch of a nation. Knowing your devilish ways, I expect test day to conveniently coincide with the first major snowfall of winter.
For now, I struggle to maintain composure. I find it mildly effective to listen to cheesy 90s pump-up music in order to maintain some semblance of excitement about this dry material.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
I'm Not Perfect
Greetings, Internet Dwellers!
Perhaps you'll find your way to me through a neurotic Google search on MCAT study strategies, premed life, or how to get into medical school. Not that I've ever Googled such things...
If that's how you found your way to my blog, I guess I'll give you a heads-up. A disclaimer. A cautionary sign.
I am far from the perfect medical school candidate.
Still here? Great! Get out while you can!
I do not have a 4.0 GPA. I've never shadowed a doctor. I mean, would I have to mimic his every move? That would suck. I feel bad enough for my own shadow. I've never stepped foot in a research lab either. Meth labs, on the other hand...
So I already know what you must be thinking. "Is this person deluded?" Indeed, I probably am. Hell, only a week ago, I watched almost all of my close friends finish the last finals of their undergraduate education. They were moving on. Saying sayonara to the nest. Fleein' the mothership. They are now off to various professional and graduate schools, spending the remainder of their student loans on Eurotrips, or heading straight into their dream careers (burger-flipping is a true artform). I won't have that fleeting moment of finality sweep over me for two more years.
Even when I do graduate, I know that, if I achieve my dream (that whole MD thing), I would be giving up my 20s to further my education. It's a scary prospect. Time and time again, I ask myself if this is what I want to do. But something in me can't quit it. I wish I knew how to quit you.
Sidenote: How many Brokeback Mountain quotes do you think I can insert into this blog post?
I guess I was a bit scared when I started university. I guess that scared part of me decided that going out with my friends and living in the now was more valuable than investing in my future - into something I had always wanted to do. I guess that guessing isn't ideal. The psychology major in me seems to enjoy analyzing the rationality behind the actions I committed in my younger years. BUT HEY. 2.7 GPAs aren't that bad... right?
Anyway you slice it, I had to up the ante. I told myself (internally, I'm not crazy) that at 20 years old, I was far too young to be throwing away my goals in favour of keg-stands and 7th-year Phys Ed* majors.
So, through a little wine and vodka influenced soul-searching, I found something in me that I never thought existed. That thing in me was not my liver (although it does a questionable job sometimes). I'll get all fancy and quote Camus:
"Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi un invincible été."
Translation: In the midst of winter, I found there was in me an invincible summer.
That quote would make a perfect hipster tattoo. But I heard it while nerding out to a Positive Psychology lecture on Youtube and it resonated.
Seriously, I'm not perfect. Who really is?
Consider this an invitation for you to embark on this journey with me. I won't Catfish you, but I'm not looking for an internet relationship either, so I guess that's irrelevant. Words have always possessed the ability to pull at my heartstrings (I may or may not have cried for three days straight after I finished the last Harry Potter book) - they are a truly powerful medium. I hope that my words can influence someone to follow their own dream. They are some serious stuff, folks.
I might present as a little insane at times (I attribute it to studying for the MCAT). I have the tendency to be sarcastic, which doesn't always translate well in writing - but hell, I'll do it anyway!
I'm not perfect! I'm no superman. Get the gist?
Stay fresh (showers are good),
The Imperfect Candidate
*details half-assedly changed for some semblance of anonymity
Perhaps you'll find your way to me through a neurotic Google search on MCAT study strategies, premed life, or how to get into medical school. Not that I've ever Googled such things...
If that's how you found your way to my blog, I guess I'll give you a heads-up. A disclaimer. A cautionary sign.
I am far from the perfect medical school candidate.
Still here? Great! Get out while you can!
I do not have a 4.0 GPA. I've never shadowed a doctor. I mean, would I have to mimic his every move? That would suck. I feel bad enough for my own shadow. I've never stepped foot in a research lab either. Meth labs, on the other hand...
So I already know what you must be thinking. "Is this person deluded?" Indeed, I probably am. Hell, only a week ago, I watched almost all of my close friends finish the last finals of their undergraduate education. They were moving on. Saying sayonara to the nest. Fleein' the mothership. They are now off to various professional and graduate schools, spending the remainder of their student loans on Eurotrips, or heading straight into their dream careers (burger-flipping is a true artform). I won't have that fleeting moment of finality sweep over me for two more years.
Even when I do graduate, I know that, if I achieve my dream (that whole MD thing), I would be giving up my 20s to further my education. It's a scary prospect. Time and time again, I ask myself if this is what I want to do. But something in me can't quit it. I wish I knew how to quit you.
Sidenote: How many Brokeback Mountain quotes do you think I can insert into this blog post?
I guess I was a bit scared when I started university. I guess that scared part of me decided that going out with my friends and living in the now was more valuable than investing in my future - into something I had always wanted to do. I guess that guessing isn't ideal. The psychology major in me seems to enjoy analyzing the rationality behind the actions I committed in my younger years. BUT HEY. 2.7 GPAs aren't that bad... right?
Anyway you slice it, I had to up the ante. I told myself (internally, I'm not crazy) that at 20 years old, I was far too young to be throwing away my goals in favour of keg-stands and 7th-year Phys Ed* majors.
So, through a little w
"Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi un invincible été."
Translation: In the midst of winter, I found there was in me an invincible summer.
That quote would make a perfect hipster tattoo. But I heard it while nerding out to a Positive Psychology lecture on Youtube and it resonated.
Seriously, I'm not perfect. Who really is?
Consider this an invitation for you to embark on this journey with me. I won't Catfish you, but I'm not looking for an internet relationship either, so I guess that's irrelevant. Words have always possessed the ability to pull at my heartstrings (I may or may not have cried for three days straight after I finished the last Harry Potter book) - they are a truly powerful medium. I hope that my words can influence someone to follow their own dream. They are some serious stuff, folks.
I might present as a little insane at times (I attribute it to studying for the MCAT). I have the tendency to be sarcastic, which doesn't always translate well in writing - but hell, I'll do it anyway!
I'm not perfect! I'm no superman. Get the gist?
Stay fresh (showers are good),
The Imperfect Candidate
*details half-assedly changed for some semblance of anonymity
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