Back in 2011 when I was approaching my final A level year, very few of my mates would probably have imagined that 5 years later I'd be beginning the process of becoming a doctor. It's not that I wasn't bright, I achieved straight As at GCSE, but I was drifting through my last year of school. The truth is that I loved school too much to care about what was to come next. My primary concerns were securing the lead role of Danny Zuko in the school musical and ensuring I left a 'legacy' at the old place. In one sense I was lucky to love school so much, as many kids don't, but it made my blasé. I never imagined that those 300 days of the academic year would fly by and I would have to leave my beloved school behind and, like all the pupils that went before me, I would be largely forgotten. I did my A levels in the days when one could do multiple re-sits and after taking many more exams than any of my friends, due to my awful performance at AS Level, I finally graduated with As in Biology and Politics and a C in chemistry.
I had always thought about doing medicine, but because of my mediocre academic performance I convinced myself that it wasn't for me. I made excuses in my head that I wanted a nicer lifestyle where I could spend more time with my family than my own father had done with us. You see, my dad is a GP and has worked pretty much every weekend I can remember, but he only did that to provide my sister and I with an amazing childhood. When he had time off we would travel the globe together and I never wanted for anything. I told myself that I resented the amount dad worked, but in all reality that was just a lie, an excuse. I ended up applying for Society Culture and Media at the University of East Anglia on a whim, mostly because I was an opinionated little shite and I thought it sounded hipster. I always fancied myself as one of those academic sorts that would go to protests and wear thick framed turtle shelled glasses, but I soon realised that wasn't me (I don't even wear glasses). I dropped out after three weeks, got a job at Waitrose driving around in a van, (which I actually quite enjoyed), and I did some real soul searching. By now my self esteem was at it's lowest point. All my pals were off having a great time at their respected universities and I was no longer a big fish, I was more like a plankton, just hoping for a whale to swallow me up. Fast forward one year and I applied for a Biology degree at Queen Mary University. I thought that was a good way to keep my options open. Doing a core science meant I could easily get a job working with people, maybe as a lecturer or teacher. Over the course of the next three years I did lots of work experience in different fields, I'd convinced myself by now that I definitely did want to be a teacher. I kept doing medical work experience as well, but I just never thought I'd get in anywhere. In the UK 12 people on average apply for every place at medical school and I didn't fancy myself as someone who could ever beat 11 people. In my final year of Biology I applied to do teaching and also applied for medicine, just on the off chance that I might get an interview somewhere. I was swiftly snapped up by 'Teach First' - a charitable organisation that throws graduates in at the deep end by training them to teach in some of the most deprived schools. At the same time I had three rejections for medicine and wasn't confident about my 4th choice. over the next couple of months I tried to forget about my medical applications. I had become genuinely excited about this teaching programme, I saw it as a great way of making a difference. One of the more serious reasons I initially chose to do a political degree three years before was because I thought I could change the world and now I really could do that, (well I thought I could transform the lives of a few of the nations most needy young people and that is as good as.) Then came the most unexpected day of my life. I received the email 'something has changed on your UCAS application, please log in and check.' I was 99% sure it was going to be my final rejection, but to my amazement I had secured an interview at Keele University. I had been told to apply to Keele because they are far less reliant on aptitude tests as a means of selection. Instead they ask all applicants to submit a 3000-ish word document in which you try and convince them you understand the role of a doctor and you can fulfil that role. Obviously I must have done a reasonable job. The night before my interview I drove up to Stoke with my dad and we stayed in a hotel so I could be as refreshed as possible. I was so nervous I didn't sleep at all and it made me realise how much I wanted this. Before my teaching interview i was relaxed, I thought I wanted it, but I didn't feel massively nervous. I wasn't overly scared of failing and if I had failed that interview I would have dismissed it as 'not the right job for me'. But now I didn't see failure as an option, for the first time in my life I experienced a burning passion inside me, I needed this. Finally i could see that the right profession for me was the one I had constantly dismissed as a child. The interview itself is a blur to me now. I remember having an emotional conservation at one station about the rights and wrongs of euthanasia, but I left feeling totally drained. I really did try to bring every ounce of my character to the fore and now all I could do was wait... The news came a week or so later. I was to be put on a waiting list, but I wasn't guaranteed a place. At this point in my life I was studying for my final Biology exams and now I had an incentive to work like I never had before. I didn't really enjoy my Biology degree, I often felt very depressed in London and I spent a lot of time out drinking with my rugby boys. However, now I started doing 18+ hour days in the library, much to the shock of my housemates, who had rarely seen me open a book before. I think, in all honesty, that they thought it was too little too late, but I was determined to get a good mark and ensure that if i didn't get in this year, I had the grades to do it next year. We know how the story ends. I made it. I missed out on a first class honours in my Bio degree by 0.5%, but i didn't care one ounce, as I got what I needed to get here and now I'm here it feels like home. Finally, I've found where I belong. It's cost me a lot more time, effort and money than it could have, but those are all old worries now. The only worry I currently have is that the next 5 years are going to fly past and one day I'm going to have to leave this place. However this time I will leave knowing that, provided I can avoid getting a criminal record, I will get to do the career of my dreams.
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AuthorMy name is Stephan. I'm a 23 year old medical student. I like to travel, play the odd game of rugby and I'm very vocal on formula 1 fan forums (yes I am a bit of a sports nerd). Archives
April 2021
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