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My Story of How I Got into Medical School.
I was born into the family of a doctor, nurse and sister with cerebral palsy, a physical disability. Much of the family conversations were on topics related to health and medicine. I suppose my interest in becoming a doctor dates back to my elementary school days. I remember a school fair-type day with a lot of science experiments and demonstrations. One of which involved moving a metal ring on a rod over another metal rod wrapped in all different directions with a goal of not letting the two metal surfaces touch or an electrically conducted alarm would sound signaling you failed. The concept was similar to the childhood game "Operation". I remember excelling at this science demonstration and feeling as if my hands were steady enough to be a surgeon. Mind you at the time I was in the second grade or so. Medicine as a profession has been the career path of interest for as long as I can remember.
My strongest subjects growing up were math and science. I have always been weak with the English and reading-type courses. By my Junior year of high school I was on an advanced placement path in a number of subjects never feeling completely comfortable or interested with the coursework. My mathematic abilities seemed to have reached their limitations as I struggled with pre-/calculus program. Meanwhile my Anatomy and Physiology class was like a breath of fresh air for me. I remember competing with one particular classmate for the highest grade on tests and quizzes. The teacher would read grades out loud to the class consistent with the high stress, competitive academic environment that I found throughout my medical training. We had practical exams where we would walk from station to station to identify tagged structures on skeletons and anatomic mannequins. I still have my folder for this class.
My first job was in my high school years working under my mother the nurse's employer in medical records. Minimum wage was about $4.25 at the time, and I was working full-time. Now at age thirty, I have spent nearly all of my employed life at the minimum wage hourly rate. By this stage when asked what I wanted to do, despite playing four varsity sports with many friends who wanted to become professional athletes, I wanted to go to medical school to become a doctor and care for patients.
I went on a road trip with my father looking at colleges and universities in the southeast. My GPA weighted was a 4.7 and 3.7 unweighted. I only weighed 140 pounds or so in high school so I am not sure where all this GPA weight came from. I think the academic rank whether remedial, regular, honors or AP and your attendance contributed this figure. My SAT was a satisfactory 1160 combined. This type of test would continue to plague me. I believe I took the SAT three times to achieve that score. I have long since envied those who score at the 2 standard deviations above the mean level. Armed with a GPA on steroids, a competitive SAT score and many, what I believed to be, outstanding athletic achievements from mention on the all -state team, all-conference, academic-athlete awards, positions of captain and others I felt very competitive for the universities we were going to tour.
I had a few partial athletic scholarship opportunities. My family and I came to the consensus that I would attend the college/university that I desired and consider walking on to a sports team rather than going to a school primarily because of a sport. I wanted to get out of the state of Florida and "go north", but not too far north where there was a lot of snow. I had not yet experienced a winter with subfreezing temperatures. In no particular order we toured Emory, Davidson, Wake Forrest, Oglethorpe, Washington & Lee, UVA, College of Charleston, Duke, and a few other institutions. While some of the schools were likely a stretch, it didn't matter. As soon as I drove on to Furman University's campus in Greenville, South Carolina, I was sold. I applied early decision, got accepted and that was that. I became a Furman Paladin. In all honesty, I still don't know what a Paladin is. In hindsight, sometimes I would question my choice, going with a small liberal arts university, not well known outside of the state and certainly not known outside of the south. They graded on a bell curve and there a lot of very bright students. I was outmatched and distracted by fun. Over the four years, I joined a fraternity. I played intramurals. I threw and attended parties. I did all the things that can easily drop you from an A or A- to a B+ or B grade. B is for "bad" when applying to medical school.
I will never forget a cartoon published in the school newspaper a few weeks into the first semester. It was a bunch of freshmen wearing orientation t-shirts jumping up and down, playing with big smiles on their faces all standing on a giant tree stump, oblivious to the giant beheading barbarian about to land his swinging axe directly on to the orientation group. While the barbarian may not have hit everyone, I was a direct hit. I made a D+ in General Chemistry, C in English and B- in History. Furman was on a trimester plan so that was my first semester, a 2.0. Weighted, unweighted, in italics, with an asterisk, smiley faces, wrapped in cash, it didn't matter the damage was done. The school then gets all those academic scholarships back that they entice you with during the admission process. My academic scholarship money was lost. My grades were barely eligible to get into a fraternity, let alone medical school. I think nearly 80% of the incoming orientation class had selected pre-med as their desired major/course of study. The first level classes were weeding classes, and the system weeded me out. By semesters end, I just wanted to go home.
My next semester was better. I ultimately finished with a 3.34 science GPA and never made another D or C at Furman. I was scared of General Chemistry II. I had put it off until the beginning of my sophomore year. The chemistry department prided themselves on being the most difficult in school. This class was much more quiet. It had about 25% the enrollment of General Chemistry I. I felt as if I had no business being in this class. My first test was a C. I immediately went to the professor, Sandra Wheeler, PhD for guidance. Anything less than a B for me was unacceptable. I explained my story to her. I will never forget this conversation where she went on to explain how a family friend who breezed through all chemistries was now struggling in medical school and that if I am struggling now in chemistry, I should reconsider my desire for medical school. So I reconsidered my being in Sandra Wheeler, PhD's class and dropped it the next day. I scheduled myself to be in a summer General Chemistry II at the local state univeristy in my hometown.
This class had hundreds of people. Most students looked and acted nothing like my classmates at Furman. I finished in the top 5% of the class with a solid A. I put off Organic Chemistry I until next summer, this time to be taken a local private university in my hometown. I wasn't going near the hardest class in the hardest department where I was so nervous I couldn't even spell my name correctly on the test. My Organic Chemistry I summer school class was small, only about fifteen to twenty students. I finished with an A, and had the highest grade in the class. On one test, I beat the mean by about 40 points. One could argue the academic demographic of a summer school class, but I did not care in the slightest. I had my confidence back. I later enrolled in the second level chemistry class at Furman and made a B+, just missing an A- my few questions.
The Medical College Admission Test or MCAT is the, test for all those who desire entrance into medical school. At the time in the late 90's it was an all day written affair offered twice a year, August and April. Dates were important because of the August enrollment cycle for medical schools. It is easy to get pushed back a calendar year needing to improve a score. The MCAT was ideally to be taken your Junior year, no later than fall of your senior year for a smooth transition into medical school in the fall after college graduation. There were strategies of optimal times to take the test in relation to your undergraduate coursework. I didn't feel ready for the test and the thought of taking a year out of school didn't seem like a bad idea, a European backpacking trip seemed an ideal way to spend some time. I pushed my first MCAT back until the April of my senior year. I enrolled in a Kaplan course to be taken in the evenings at Furman in the spring of my senior year in preparation for the test. I was living at the fraternity house. I had a girlfriend. I was making A's in my classes. Four hour evening MCAT review lectures twice a week and all day Saturday practice tests were an absolute contraindication to my state of mind at the time. Needless to say this was reflected in my first MCAT score of 18. For those who are not familiar, that is the equivalent of about filling your name out on the test.
I obtained my Bachelors of Science in Biology in the Spring of 2001. My science GPA was 3.34 with an overall GPA about 3.1 something. My MCAT score was umm, 18. My letters of recommendation were complete from professors within my department. I had worked for two summers as a counselor at an Easter Seals Camp that my sister had attended every summer my entire life for persons with Cerebral Palsy or Muscular Dystrophy. I had countless observerships shadowing practicing doctors in rheumatology, orthopedic surgery, cardiology and emergency medicine. I had pushed off my European vacation indefinitely. I applied and was accepted for a two month summer research internship opportunity at a large cancer research center. Knowing how poor my MCAT score was I of course immediately signed up for the August MCAT. I came clean to my parents that I didn't get much if anything out of the Kaplan course and decided to take a Princeton Review course during this research internship. The internship consisted of the usual PCR and gel electrophoresis studies along with other introductory lab techniques focused on a possible antibody that could be used in the early detection of lung cancer.
With one MCAT score, if you could even call it that I was able to begin the application process while I was preparing for the second coming of the MCAT. This application process was horribly unorganized. The internet was just becoming the standard way of doing things in society. The American Medical College Application Service or, AMCAS was just transitioning to an online application after years of paper application and mailing in a floppy disk drive filled with information. I believe this was the first year for an online application. The servers were inadequate for a high volume of applicants all submitting information for the same deadlines. Entering biographical information was tedious let alone essays and transcript information. I would set my alarm through the middle of the night with hopes of being able to access the website during low traffic hours.
The summer internship was coming to a close. The Princeton Review course was well underway. My dad tore out and gave me an advertisement in the newspaper for a part-time research assistant with a large group of orthopedic surgeons, hinting it was time for a job. It was a perfect opportunity. I had a full calendar year before I could start medical school at the soonest, and research is ideal for strengthening your application. I submitted an application in person for the research assistant position. I was hired as a part-time research assistant at $10.50 an hour effective immediately.
The requirements were to be less than 30 hours a week. I hit that after two and half days and told the doctor I was working for I had to go home at lunch for the week to be in concordance with the rules. I was changed to full-time and increased to $12.00 an hour. I worked every day to make myself a stronger medical school applicant. Two years later on my last day before leaving to begin my medical school education, I was offered a salary of 86,000.00 a year to stay.
Meanwhile my second MCAT result arrived. I scored a 23. I only applied to US Medical School #1 where my father was a doctor on staff with hopes of at least a courtesy interview and maybe a miracle given my recent research accomplishments and family ties even though my father always kept his distance from the process. Somewhat bitter sweet, a formal interview was granted followed by a position on the "wait-list" for admission. You get to wait for all the "best" applicants to select their schools and if enough of them want to go elsewhere, your position slides up, ideally into the class. You never know where on the waiting list you are until you are offered a seat in the class from what I understood. I was not offered a seat.
I made an appointment with the head of admissions to discuss options to help me in my application for the fall 2003 class. By this time it was around April and I had held off on taking another MCAT. I was advised to take the MCAT for the third time. The MCAT is scored in three sections Biological Sciences, Physical Sciences and a Verbal, my Achilles heel. There's an essay section which to this day, I am unaware of its purpose. My second MCAT was 8,8 and a 7 in verbal. I was told that the school will not take a 7 with 8 and 8. In order to get accepted with a 7, you need at least 9 and 9 in the other sections. This was the absolute minimum at the time.
I was frustrated. I was down. I was questioning if it was possible for me to get into medical school. My girlfriend at the time was a senior at Furman. We had discussed her coming to live in my hometown after graduation while I was working and continuing my application process to medical school. Our relationship had reached a breaking point at the time of her graduation and it was decided our life's paths were in different directions. I wish I could say I handled this better. Regretfully, I was arrested for DUI in June 2002. Thankfully no one was injured and there was no physical damage to anything. Spending a night in a jail cell with a blood alcohol level of 0.12, recently rejected from medical school with no hope in sight and dumped days earlier by a girl I easily could have proposed to was a new all time low for me.
Somehow the sun came up. My dad posted bail. I picked myself up and I continued working hard, recently promoted to research manager. I was an author on manuscripts accepted for printed publications as well as authoring a number of abstracts accepted at scientific meetings. I gained a great deal of clinical experience and was filming cases in the operating room regularly. I took the MCAT in August for the third and final time with strict instructions. I scored a 25. The breakdown was, 7,9,9. I was wishing I had done better of course, but very pleased to finally be even eligible for acceptance. I was concerned that even a second year of applying with improved scores, and what was becoming a respectable curriculum vitae from my research experience, now with a DUI that what little opportunity I may have had was gone.
The second application season was underway. I applied to a lot of schools including the least competitive schools and most importantly to those where my father had ties, US Medical School #1 where he was working and US Medical School #2, an Ivy League school where he went to medical school. I was of course, granted interviews only at US Medical School #1 and #2. #2 made it clear with a letter that I was granted an interview automatically because of my father had graduated from their school. Beyond the interview I was guaranteed nothing, not even the "wait list". I went on both interviews. Interviews in medicine are mostly a formality and represent the institution selling itself to you as much as you are selling yourself to it.
I never felt as out of place as I did during my interview at #2. It was almost a joke to me if it wasn't so serious. We were in a luxurious penthouse boardroom of this historic hospital at an Ivy League institution. All the candidates were from the best schools with the best scores I'm sure. Any discussion however, of grades or numbers would be an unprecedented gaffe. I just pretended I was as smart on paper as everyone in the room. By the end of the day, I felt my interview went very well but I knew what I was up against.
Months went by and I found myself on the waiting list again. You are either accepted, wait-listed or rejected. As for #2, I was put on the second tier of the waiting list from which getting a spot in the class is for all practical purposes unheard of. If you have seen the movie Shawshank Redemption, a favorite movie of mine, you will understand the following idea. I hand addressed and signed a letter with an inspirational quote about persistence and determination by Woodrow Wilson and mailed it every day to their admission department. Just like in the movie, after about six weeks of this I got a call from a secretary asking me if I knew the same the letter was being sent to the department every day. I said yes, if she could please just add the letter to my file I would appreciate it. Then just as Andy Dufresne did in the movie, I began sending two letters a day with an additional quote about persistence. I did this for about five months in total. Needless to say, I never made it into the August class. I'd be willing to bet that I had the thickest application folder in the history of US Medical School #2 admissions if that counts for anything. So far it has not, except maybe for a funny story.
Meanwhile out in my hometown one night. I bumped into an old high school baseball teammate who happened to have just finished his first semester of medical school on a small island in the Caribbean. I had heard of a foreign medical school or two but didn't really know anything about them or how that could lead you into being a doctor in the United States. As far as alternative paths, I had been considering pursuing an Osteopathic or D.O. medical school but not until late in the application season after being put on the waitlist at #1 and #2 The Osteopathic medical school application process is just as long requiring a full calendar year so I was going to pursue that path should a third year of applying for medical school be required. By now it was around March and I was running out of time.
When I woke up the next morning I google searched Caribbean medical schools. I said to myself if I am going to go to a Carribean School I wanted it to be what I considered to be a good one. I saw that St. George's University School of Medicine had an open house scheduled in my area in a week or two. I took that as a good sign. Their application was simple and straight forward and most importantly I was still within the time line of starting the coming August putting out only two years since college. My numbers were in line with the averages. I was feeling good about this as a back up plan after worrying literally every single day of my life basically since freshman year of college about how I am going to get into medical school. I submitted an application immediately.
The open house was encouraging. There were many students with situations that seemed eerily similar to mine. The school looked very nice. The speakers were knowledgeable and honest. Most importantly, I gained a general understanding of how you come back into the United States and that it was possible. A few weeks later I was granted an interview with St. George's University School of Medicine. The interview was conducted in a nearby city with an Alumnus of the University who was a practicing doctor in the area. Things were going very well and finally the interviewer said that I knew what he had to ask. I wasn't sure what question was coming next. "Tell me about June 2nd, 2002". That was the date of my DUI arrest. I gave an honest explanation of what happened. I expressed remorse and accepted responsibility for my actions. I made very clear that I have learned from the experience and that it has not, nor will it ever occur again. It was a downer to end on and a long drive home after the interview wondering if I have ruined my only chance.
More weeks passed, still on the wait list at both US schools now waiting to hear back from one foreign medical school on the island of Grenada which I honestly, couldn't even point out on a map. I continued sending my letters to #2 and scheduled an appointment with the new head of admissions at #1. It was made clear that I was a number of positions down the on the waiting list and getting a seat was unlikely. I was instructed to quit my research job where I had been for 2 years now making $46,000.00 a year with a number of accepted publications and abstracts and endless valuable clinical and operating room experiences, enroll fulltime in PhD level post baccalaureate courses to prove that I can make A's at that level and do volunteer work and reapply for next year with of course, no guarantee of acceptance.
All my eggs fell in the basket of a foreign medical school on an island not much bigger than my hometown. I anxiously checked the mailbox every day hoping for an acceptance letter. It was approaching June. My college friends had planned a trip to Las Vegas and I of course was in need of a vacation. I was running late for the airport waiting for my father to get home from work for a ride. My DUI related restricted drivers license did not permit a drive to the airport for a weekend in Las Vegas nearly twelve months after the fact. We were backing out of the driveway and I made him stop so I could run and check the mailbox. There was a large package from St. George's University School of Medicine and a congratulatory letter of acceptance into the coming August class. I had reason to celebrate. Where better to celebrate than Las Vegas. Who better to celebrate with than the guys who for four years helped cost me the couple MCAT and the few GPA points that got me into this mess in the first place.
Click here to view St. George's University School of Medicine, located on the Caribean island country of Grenada
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