“How’s medical school going?” That’s a common question, and I don’t have the most cheerful answer. The best word that comes to mind lately is “ok.”
Yes, ok. Why just ok? Well, because it’s hard. Medical school hard- that’s no surprise, right? This semester of rigorous anatomy, physiology, development, physical diagnosis, and pathology—has not given me much time to ponder about anything.
However, right now I feel that many medical students are a special breed who thrive on academic torture as much as helping others. Indeed, there has to be a high level of willingness to sacrifice, delay gratification, and self-discipline for students in this odd regime, and it’s no cheerful matter.
The US medical education system in which I am submersed is an “odd” thing. First of all, there are the prerequisites and admissions—basic science classes, the dreaded $250+ MCAT, the AMCAS online application, and the drawn out selection process which can last from June of one year until August of the following year.
It’s a self-selecting process that fills applicants with self-doubt, and often a competitive mindset. Is this what it takes to become a recognized, practicing healer in our country? Being a basic science wiz, having a lot of money, and knowing how to get ahead of others? What about kindness or compassion?
I recently read an article, “Most Likely to Succeed“ in the December 2008 New Yorker magazine in which Michael Gladwell explores how difficult and unpredictable the NFL quarterback selection process has been. He writes, “There are certain jobs where almost nothing you can learn about candidates before they start predicts how they’ll do once they’re hired.”
He goes on to make a connection to medical admissions saying, “We now realize that being a good doctor requires the ability to communicate, listen, and empathize—and so there is increasing pressure on medical schools to pay attention to interpersonal skills as well as to test scores. We can have better physicians if we’re just smarter about how we choose medical-school students.”
It’s true—there is a new movement in medical education to select people who have done community service, and who show dedication to humanitarianism in their essay and interviews. In fact, I think this is probably the reason that I was accepted to medical school. Yet, most schools continue to value the test scores and basic sciences just as highly as humanistic skills.
My medical school is supposedly less competitive, and encourages the importance of listening and personal connection more than other schools. I am especially honored to be surrounded by many great physician role-models who act differently from most medical norms.
My recent family practice mentor challenged my notions of American doctors by being extremely personal—making jokes and always hugging people when appropriate. She was so gifted, and developed a deep bond with patients—one that I dream of having someday too.
Yet, my days as a first year are normally so far removed from this type of experience. This semester has been more fulfilling than last one with anatomy and physical diagnosis being more hands-on and interactive than my previous courses. However, I am still bogged down by the academics, especially tonight.
I must remind myself constantly—like a mantra—that two years of classroom time is nothing compared to a career full of clinical joy, and the opportunity to get deeply involved in people’s health—something that’s special and sacred work. And maybe… just maybe… I will hold on to some sense of happiness, balance, and idealism, even if medical school is just ok.
Great post Liz. I just found your blog.
I am taking the MCAT next January and will be applying for medschool next year. how did you prepare for the MCAT? What med school do you go to (If you don’t mind)
Thank you for your reply