December 15, 2009 will officially be going down in my book as one of the best days of my life thus far. Since I haven't gotten married or had children yet, at this point in time, it IS the best day of my life. Much better than any Christmas or birthday (even when I turned 21 and was FINALLY able to order a glass of wine at a restaurant legally)...better than even my graduation from the University of Denver. It was the day that I found out I had been accepted to the University of Colorado's Physician Assistant program. Now, getting accepted to graduate school is a huge achievement in any case, but it was very big personal triumph for me because I had to apply twice, and the 2 years and 2 application cycles leading here were very long, emotional, and even frustrating at times.
I thought for almost 15 years (ever since I was a 4-year old enthralled by the exploits of Jane Seymour as Dr. Quinn) that I wanted to go to medical school, mostly because I was too stubborn to explore any other options in the field of medicine. Usually, once I get my head on an idea, I stick with it until someone manages to pry it out of my tightly-clenched fingers.
When I finally figured out my plans, after waffling back and forth between PA and nursing and PT and all of those other fabulous career choices in medicine, I assumed it would be a piece of cake getting into PA school. After all, I had been a 4.0 student in high school, graduated from DU with honors, and had placed well on the GRE. I got into DU very easily and never even applied to any other schools, so I assumed grad. school would be the same.
But acutally applying the first time ended up being a very eye-opening experience. After applying to, and getting interviews at all 3 programs I applied to, including CU and Yale, I was rejected by all 3, which made for a very heartbroken Christmas '08. I had never had to deal with academic (or for that matter any) rejection before, and I'm pretty sure I cried for 3 days off and on after getting my last rejection. As someone who believes in God, I really couldn't see the reason for this amid my puffy-eyed crying sessions. All I could think about was "wow, this really sucks!" and "why me?"
When I finally got over my pity party, I started a major self-reflective period, and thought about my application, my interviews, and what was really motivating me to apply. I knew that this was what I wanted more than anything...I didn't even have a plan B, so this HAD to work out eventually. Even though I was still upset about not getting in, and wasn't planning on reapplying for 2 more years, my dad convinced me to turn right back around and reapply...what else did I have to lose?
I spent the entire spring and summer reapplying, which meant filling out a very long and tedious application all over, writing new essays, and a bunch of other stuff...in the middle of finishing up college and graduating, recovering from major back surgery (more on that later), and moving back home with my parents. I was nervous throughout every step in the process, from finally finishing an essay after 10 re-edits, to submitting everything, etc. Since I knew exactly what the sting of rejection felt like, I was so careful not to make any mistakes so as to avoid getting rejected again. It's like those mice that are trained not to eat the cheese because every time they go for the cheese, they get shocked (yeah, I'm a huge nerd to reference psychology).
By the time I finally sent off my application, I was a nervous wreck, and my mom was probably going insane, because as my best friend, she was the person I ruminated to nearly every day about the application process. Since CU's program was really the only program I could imagine attending (not to mention it was close to my family and friends) I only applied there...talk about putting all of your eggs in one basket! However, I was lucky enough to be offered an interview immediately...as in 6 hours after they notified me of receiving my completed application, I got an email telling me to come interview.
On the day of my interview, I was nervous, excited, and terrified by the talent that the other 9 people interviewing with me that day possessed. It's so hard not to think about how you measure up compared to their life histories and experiences, especially when they interview 100 people and only offer 40 spots. Throughout the interview, I felt I was doing fairly well, but there were certainly a few questions that tripped me up, and even one where my response sounded WAY better in my head than it ended up coming out, and for the 3 months after my interview until finding out, I constantly worried that that one stupid question would ruin my chances.
After my interview was over, I felt terribly relived, and also terrified, because my part in the application process was over, and there was absolutely nothing else I could do to improve my chances of getting in. It was all up to the admissions committee, and there was nothing I could do but wait...and wait...and wait some more. I waited for 3 months and 6 days (yes, I was counting), and it was agonizing. I am a planner, and I couldn't really make any plans past tomorrow until I knew whether I would be attending PA school or not. It drove me (and I'm sure my family as well) absolutely nuts. But the waiting finally ended on December 15.
I came home at 4 o'clock on Tuesday after being gone all day and not having a chance to check my email. My mom was cooking pasta on the stove, and the house smelled amazing. After dropping off my stuff and taking off my coat, I went to grab my laptop and bring it to the dining room table, so I could talk to my mom and check my email at the same time. As I was going to retrieve my laptop, I jokingly said to my mom "maybe CU emailed me today," not at all expecting that they had actually made their decision and it was sitting in my email inbox as I spoke.
I had been scanning the "sender" column of my email for the past week or so, as the decision would be coming from the admission director's address. When my email finally loaded, her name was the first to appear, and I thought "oh my God." When I scanned my eyes to the left to look at the subject of the email, I found "CHA/PA Admissions Acceptance," and suddenly my eyes welled up with tears as I screamed "oh my God!" My mom at this point had dropped her cooking spoon and run over to me to see what was going on. I opened email and saw the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" and immediately started happily freaking out. I slowly read that I had been accepted for the PA school class starting in the summer of 2010, in the midst of crying, hyperventilating, feeling nauseated, and flapping my hands around like a 5 year old. I'm pretty sure that if CU had seen how I acted at that moment, they may have thought again about accepting me. But I really didn't care...I was too over the moon to give any regard to my excited behavior.
My family was there to crack open a bottle of champagne and celebrate with me, and I later started thinking about how lucky I was, even though the reality of it hadn't come close to sinking in. I was finally accepted, after being completely humbled by a painful rejection, and somehow finding the courage to reapply and chalk it up to experience and hope for the best. Out of over 500 applicants and 100 interviewed, I was one of 40 people that would be starting PA school in June, 2010. Even though I knew exactly what I had written on my essays and my credentials and my motivations, I still couldn't believe that I had actually been accepted. It's like when you want something so badly for so long that it seems impossible, and when it actually happens, you still can't believe it did, or how in the heck you got there.
Like I said, December 15 is easily the best day of my life so far, because, if nothing else, it took me out of that awful state of limbo and allowed me to start planning my life again (all you planners out there will know exactly what I'm talking about!)
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Monday, December 21, 2009
I FINALLY MADE IT!
December 15, 2009 will officially be going down in my book as one of the best days of my life thus far. Since I haven't gotten married or had children yet, at this point in time, it IS the best day of my life. Much better than any Christmas or birthday (even when I turned 21 and was FINALLY able to order a glass of wine at a restaurant legally)...better than even my graduation from the University of Denver. It was the day that I found out I had been accepted to the University of Colorado's Physician Assistant program. Now, getting accepted to graduate school is a huge achievement in any case, but it was very big personal triumph for me because I had to apply twice, and the 2 years and 2 application cycles leading here were very long, emotional, and even frustrating at times.
I thought for almost 15 years (ever since I was a 4-year old enthralled by the exploits of Jane Seymour as Dr. Quinn) that I wanted to go to medical school, mostly because I was too stubborn to explore any other options in the field of medicine. Usually, once I get my head on an idea, I stick with it until someone manages to pry it out of my tightly-clenched fingers.
When I finally figured out my plans, after waffling back and forth between PA and nursing and PT and all of those other fabulous career choices in medicine, I assumed it would be a piece of cake getting into PA school. After all, I had been a 4.0 student in high school, graduated from DU with honors, and had placed well on the GRE. I got into DU very easily and never even applied to any other schools, so I assumed grad. school would be the same.
But acutally applying the first time ended up being a very eye-opening experience. After applying to, and getting interviews at all 3 programs I applied to, including CU and Yale, I was rejected by all 3, which made for a very heartbroken Christmas '08. I had never had to deal with academic (or for that matter any) rejection before, and I'm pretty sure I cried for 3 days off and on after getting my last rejection. As someone who believes in God, I really couldn't see the reason for this amid my puffy-eyed crying sessions. All I could think about was "wow, this really sucks!" and "why me?"
When I finally got over my pity party, I started a major self-reflective period, and thought about my application, my interviews, and what was really motivating me to apply. I knew that this was what I wanted more than anything...I didn't even have a plan B, so this HAD to work out eventually. Even though I was still upset about not getting in, and wasn't planning on reapplying for 2 more years, my dad convinced me to turn right back around and reapply...what else did I have to lose?
I spent the entire spring and summer reapplying, which meant filling out a very long and tedious application all over, writing new essays, and a bunch of other stuff...in the middle of finishing up college and graduating, recovering from major back surgery (more on that later), and moving back home with my parents. I was nervous throughout every step in the process, from finally finishing an essay after 10 re-edits, to submitting everything, etc. Since I knew exactly what the sting of rejection felt like, I was so careful not to make any mistakes so as to avoid getting rejected again. It's like those mice that are trained not to eat the cheese because every time they go for the cheese, they get shocked (yeah, I'm a huge nerd to reference psychology).
By the time I finally sent off my application, I was a nervous wreck, and my mom was probably going insane, because as my best friend, she was the person I ruminated to nearly every day about the application process. Since CU's program was really the only program I could imagine attending (not to mention it was close to my family and friends) I only applied there...talk about putting all of your eggs in one basket! However, I was lucky enough to be offered an interview immediately...as in 6 hours after they notified me of receiving my completed application, I got an email telling me to come interview.
On the day of my interview, I was nervous, excited, and terrified by the talent that the other 9 people interviewing with me that day possessed. It's so hard not to think about how you measure up compared to their life histories and experiences, especially when they interview 100 people and only offer 40 spots. Throughout the interview, I felt I was doing fairly well, but there were certainly a few questions that tripped me up, and even one where my response sounded WAY better in my head than it ended up coming out, and for the 3 months after my interview until finding out, I constantly worried that that one stupid question would ruin my chances.
After my interview was over, I felt terribly relived, and also terrified, because my part in the application process was over, and there was absolutely nothing else I could do to improve my chances of getting in. It was all up to the admissions committee, and there was nothing I could do but wait...and wait...and wait some more. I waited for 3 months and 6 days (yes, I was counting), and it was agonizing. I am a planner, and I couldn't really make any plans past tomorrow until I knew whether I would be attending PA school or not. It drove me (and I'm sure my family as well) absolutely nuts. But the waiting finally ended on December 15.
I came home at 4 o'clock on Tuesday after being gone all day and not having a chance to check my email. My mom was cooking pasta on the stove, and the house smelled amazing. After dropping off my stuff and taking off my coat, I went to grab my laptop and bring it to the dining room table, so I could talk to my mom and check my email at the same time. As I was going to retrieve my laptop, I jokingly said to my mom "maybe CU emailed me today," not at all expecting that they had actually made their decision and it was sitting in my email inbox as I spoke.
I had been scanning the "sender" column of my email for the past week or so, as the decision would be coming from the admission director's address. When my email finally loaded, her name was the first to appear, and I thought "oh my God." When I scanned my eyes to the left to look at the subject of the email, I found "CHA/PA Admissions Acceptance," and suddenly my eyes welled up with tears as I screamed "oh my God!" My mom at this point had dropped her cooking spoon and run over to me to see what was going on. I opened email and saw the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" and immediately started happily freaking out. I slowly read that I had been accepted for the PA school class starting in the summer of 2010, in the midst of crying, hyperventilating, feeling nauseated, and flapping my hands around like a 5 year old. I'm pretty sure that if CU had seen how I acted at that moment, they may have thought again about accepting me. But I really didn't care...I was too over the moon to give any regard to my excited behavior.
My family was there to crack open a bottle of champagne and celebrate with me, and I later started thinking about how lucky I was, even though the reality of it hadn't come close to sinking in. I was finally accepted, after being completely humbled by a painful rejection, and somehow finding the courage to reapply and chalk it up to experience and hope for the best. Out of over 500 applicants and 100 interviewed, I was one of 40 people that would be starting PA school in June, 2010. Even though I knew exactly what I had written on my essays and my credentials and my motivations, I still couldn't believe that I had actually been accepted. It's like when you want something so badly for so long that it seems impossible, and when it actually happens, you still can't believe it did, or how in the heck you got there.
Like I said, December 15 is easily the best day of my life so far, because, if nothing else, it took me out of that awful state of limbo and allowed me to start planning my life again (all you planners out there will know exactly what I'm talking about!)
I thought for almost 15 years (ever since I was a 4-year old enthralled by the exploits of Jane Seymour as Dr. Quinn) that I wanted to go to medical school, mostly because I was too stubborn to explore any other options in the field of medicine. Usually, once I get my head on an idea, I stick with it until someone manages to pry it out of my tightly-clenched fingers.
When I finally figured out my plans, after waffling back and forth between PA and nursing and PT and all of those other fabulous career choices in medicine, I assumed it would be a piece of cake getting into PA school. After all, I had been a 4.0 student in high school, graduated from DU with honors, and had placed well on the GRE. I got into DU very easily and never even applied to any other schools, so I assumed grad. school would be the same.
But acutally applying the first time ended up being a very eye-opening experience. After applying to, and getting interviews at all 3 programs I applied to, including CU and Yale, I was rejected by all 3, which made for a very heartbroken Christmas '08. I had never had to deal with academic (or for that matter any) rejection before, and I'm pretty sure I cried for 3 days off and on after getting my last rejection. As someone who believes in God, I really couldn't see the reason for this amid my puffy-eyed crying sessions. All I could think about was "wow, this really sucks!" and "why me?"
When I finally got over my pity party, I started a major self-reflective period, and thought about my application, my interviews, and what was really motivating me to apply. I knew that this was what I wanted more than anything...I didn't even have a plan B, so this HAD to work out eventually. Even though I was still upset about not getting in, and wasn't planning on reapplying for 2 more years, my dad convinced me to turn right back around and reapply...what else did I have to lose?
I spent the entire spring and summer reapplying, which meant filling out a very long and tedious application all over, writing new essays, and a bunch of other stuff...in the middle of finishing up college and graduating, recovering from major back surgery (more on that later), and moving back home with my parents. I was nervous throughout every step in the process, from finally finishing an essay after 10 re-edits, to submitting everything, etc. Since I knew exactly what the sting of rejection felt like, I was so careful not to make any mistakes so as to avoid getting rejected again. It's like those mice that are trained not to eat the cheese because every time they go for the cheese, they get shocked (yeah, I'm a huge nerd to reference psychology).
By the time I finally sent off my application, I was a nervous wreck, and my mom was probably going insane, because as my best friend, she was the person I ruminated to nearly every day about the application process. Since CU's program was really the only program I could imagine attending (not to mention it was close to my family and friends) I only applied there...talk about putting all of your eggs in one basket! However, I was lucky enough to be offered an interview immediately...as in 6 hours after they notified me of receiving my completed application, I got an email telling me to come interview.
On the day of my interview, I was nervous, excited, and terrified by the talent that the other 9 people interviewing with me that day possessed. It's so hard not to think about how you measure up compared to their life histories and experiences, especially when they interview 100 people and only offer 40 spots. Throughout the interview, I felt I was doing fairly well, but there were certainly a few questions that tripped me up, and even one where my response sounded WAY better in my head than it ended up coming out, and for the 3 months after my interview until finding out, I constantly worried that that one stupid question would ruin my chances.
After my interview was over, I felt terribly relived, and also terrified, because my part in the application process was over, and there was absolutely nothing else I could do to improve my chances of getting in. It was all up to the admissions committee, and there was nothing I could do but wait...and wait...and wait some more. I waited for 3 months and 6 days (yes, I was counting), and it was agonizing. I am a planner, and I couldn't really make any plans past tomorrow until I knew whether I would be attending PA school or not. It drove me (and I'm sure my family as well) absolutely nuts. But the waiting finally ended on December 15.
I came home at 4 o'clock on Tuesday after being gone all day and not having a chance to check my email. My mom was cooking pasta on the stove, and the house smelled amazing. After dropping off my stuff and taking off my coat, I went to grab my laptop and bring it to the dining room table, so I could talk to my mom and check my email at the same time. As I was going to retrieve my laptop, I jokingly said to my mom "maybe CU emailed me today," not at all expecting that they had actually made their decision and it was sitting in my email inbox as I spoke.
I had been scanning the "sender" column of my email for the past week or so, as the decision would be coming from the admission director's address. When my email finally loaded, her name was the first to appear, and I thought "oh my God." When I scanned my eyes to the left to look at the subject of the email, I found "CHA/PA Admissions Acceptance," and suddenly my eyes welled up with tears as I screamed "oh my God!" My mom at this point had dropped her cooking spoon and run over to me to see what was going on. I opened email and saw the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" and immediately started happily freaking out. I slowly read that I had been accepted for the PA school class starting in the summer of 2010, in the midst of crying, hyperventilating, feeling nauseated, and flapping my hands around like a 5 year old. I'm pretty sure that if CU had seen how I acted at that moment, they may have thought again about accepting me. But I really didn't care...I was too over the moon to give any regard to my excited behavior.
My family was there to crack open a bottle of champagne and celebrate with me, and I later started thinking about how lucky I was, even though the reality of it hadn't come close to sinking in. I was finally accepted, after being completely humbled by a painful rejection, and somehow finding the courage to reapply and chalk it up to experience and hope for the best. Out of over 500 applicants and 100 interviewed, I was one of 40 people that would be starting PA school in June, 2010. Even though I knew exactly what I had written on my essays and my credentials and my motivations, I still couldn't believe that I had actually been accepted. It's like when you want something so badly for so long that it seems impossible, and when it actually happens, you still can't believe it did, or how in the heck you got there.
Like I said, December 15 is easily the best day of my life so far, because, if nothing else, it took me out of that awful state of limbo and allowed me to start planning my life again (all you planners out there will know exactly what I'm talking about!)
1 comment:
Looks like I'll be the first to post a comment!!! Of course, I've already said congratulations, but reading this was amazing! It allowed me to experience and share in your joy in a whole new way -- I'm glad you're such a good writer!! It'll be fun to follow along on your blog as you move into this next phase of your life. Indeed, December 15 was your best day ever -- SO FAR! "Trust in the Lord always!" Carol Hill
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Looks like I'll be the first to post a comment!!! Of course, I've already said congratulations, but reading this was amazing! It allowed me to experience and share in your joy in a whole new way -- I'm glad you're such a good writer!! It'll be fun to follow along on your blog as you move into this next phase of your life. Indeed, December 15 was your best day ever -- SO FAR! "Trust in the Lord always!" Carol Hill
ReplyDelete