“Let There Be Time!”

 I see the irony in being excited to fork out my money for the med school vaccinations when I normally balk at having to pay a simple doctor’s fee, but I don’t care.  I’m excited to finally get the ball rolling!

Because my vaccination records are non-existent, I need to have a whole bunch of serum tests performed before I even think about getting jabbed with a multitude of needles.  Here’s what the SoM requires I get tested and vaccinated for:

- HIV serum test
- Hepatitis C serum test
- Hepatitis B serum and BCG Vaccine course
- Varicella Zoster serum test and vaccine (VZV)
- Pertussis serum test and vaccine
- A minimum of 3 doses of diptheria/tetanus toxoid vaccine
- and a minimum of 2 doses of Measles, Mumps & Rubella (MMR) vaccine.

 I also need to organise Senior First Aid with CPR, a Blue Card for working with the kiddies, and a Police Check for criminal history – for which there isn’t.  I hope.

On top of all this, I need to somehow find the time to work and raise money for first year text books – of which there are many, and they are costly.  Think ‘price-of-a-small-house’ ball-park.

 The only reason I think this warrants a post is because all other med schools inform their students of their successful application by late November!

Since classes start in mid January, I don’t want to imagine how stressful it is to have all of this organised by orientation day.

Props to Maxine Hughes of the Griffith SoM for letting us know so soon – at least now we have a chance to get stuff organised.

 Phew.

You Have 1 New Email…

“Thank you for applying to Griffith University for a place in the Bachelor of Medicine/Bachelor of Surgery program.  The School of Medicine is pleased to advise that you have been offered a place the details of which are…”

A huge sigh of relief!  After an arduous year-long process, I’ve finally been offered a place in medical school!

 Now’s the time to smile. To reflect. To drink a lot.

CONGRATULATIONS EVERYONE!

GRIFFITHDORS 2008!

Interminable

This past week has been LOOOOOOOOONG.

 Every waking moment has been plagued with thoughts of the med entry interview and when the offers for 2008 entry will be released.  Going into the interview, we knew it would be soon after the interviews had ended, which was Monday.  All this time later – Tuesday – and I am ready to explode.  My stomach is sick to death of accommodating all the butterflies. 

 Please, please, please put me out of my misery.  Will I be a medical student next year, or not?  There’s no question anymore – the decision has been made.  All that’s left is the answer.

It’s now only hours that stand between me and the unknown.   Wish me luck.

Cufflinks

Today was the much-anticipated Medical Entry Interview.  I capitalise it to show its ‘importance’.  There has been much ceremony about the interview – superstitious discussions over what to wear (Van Heusen is preferable to Pierre Cardin, man!), mulling over each and every response to each and every possible question – and the list goes on.

 We were in a small room in the medical school, all frantically making notes on the scenario we were given about an airport worker.  Nervously, applicants were stealing glances at their competitors’ work while simultaneously sizing-up their attire.  There was an air of competition, and I was not about to be mired in self-doubt.

“Guys, make sure to turn the card over…they’ve put questions on the back” I said to the room.

Soon after, we were all laughing and discussing the scenario.  After all, nobody said anything about collusion being a problem.

One by one, we were taken off to our separate PBL rooms, where we met with open, kind panelists who asked ruthless questions.  After a few minutes of blind panic, I settled into a sustained and workable, if not stressed, frame of mind.  Some questions were not answered well, and a few blank spots stained the interview.  All in all, the process went as well as could be expected.

“What do you think is one of your biggest strengths?” The vascular surgeon asked.

“Well, apart from right now, obviously, I am usually a really good communicator.”

This made the panel laugh, and I relaxed into my role. 

“Would your friends agree with this?” The surgeon pressed.

“Absolutely.  They often tell me that I speak well and can convey what I’m feeling.  Even though I play the fool often, they come to me for advice or if they need to talk about something.”

“You mentioned before that part of what motives you to do medicine is the desire to work in a field that is always evolving.  Why not do engineering, then?” Asked the gynecologist.

I don’t remember my response – but I do remember that it wasn’t said with conviction.  I believe I said something about engineering not pushing you out of comfort zones or something equally trite.  The gynie frowned to himself.

After the interview, I felt like a moron. But strangely, I also felt good about how it went.  I’d been honest, slightly inarticulate, embarrassed, and humerous – all while feeling alien in a tie and cufflinks. 

Hey – What more could you ask for?