I think I’ve been living in a constant state of denial ever since I entered medical school. Undergraduate life was a crapload of fun and in my desperate attempt to stretch it out for as long as I could, I chose to take the longest educational road known to America and somehow decided that medical school would be my best option. Unfortunately, not having had parents who went to medical school, or for that matter, collage, I know very little about, well, how to walk this path. I thought, hey! It doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out. Unfortunately, a lot of the things I should have figured out, I didn’t figure out till much much later. I also allowed myself to be lulled into a state of complacency and denial and right now, well, I think I might be entering a state of panic.
Throughout my life here in the US, I keep telling myself that no matter what it is that I end up doing, it has to be something I like doing. I’m not moving over the oceans only to be miserable. So even though a lot of the things I do end up doing don’t really seem to be part of any big plan, I’ve always had fun. Except when it came to taking tests. I’m miserable at standardized tests. But I kept telling myself that its alright. Residency directors will want to know me as a person, not just the numbers. yeah, right. At least according to this book on how to get into residency by a graduate of my medical school. Just flipping through his book made me want to cry.
I’m returning his book. Paying $30 to feel miserable isn’t worth it.