IN MY OWN WORDS...: Match Day: "I NICED myself"

For those who don't know, Match Day is the day in the U.S. when all the medical students studying medicine find out which hospital they get assigned for their residency (the 3-5 years you spend as a physician under the guidance of more senior physicians). It's probably the biggest day in any medical students life, thus you can understand the aneurysm inducing week students have leading up to that day. To make matters even worse, the Monday of Match week you get an email that says "Matched" or "Un-Matched". If you are one of the lucky students that got the questionable email from the National Residency Matching Program (NRMP) this year you were probably initially puzzled, since somehow they thought it would be a good idea to add to the suspense..... the already 4 years long suspense process by titling the match email with a darn question - "Did I Match?" Without even opening the email you could already tell if you matched or not. Sadly if you didn't match, that meant spending the following days doing what I would call the "evil cousin of the former SCRAMBLE", SOAP (Supplemental Offer and Acceptance Program).

Apparently this was suppose to be a easier process than before but if you went through it or watched anyone else go through it, it's nerve-racking, gut-renching, disorganized torture. I can't even imagine why anyone would think having medical students scramble for the last available spots, waiting and wishing for their phone to ring for someone to offer them a job is some how better than not matching initially. This substitute SOAP causes most medical students subjected to the process, to change their chosen specialty within hours of finding out they didn't match in an effort to secure a job at last minute. Sadly this is the only solution the "Med School Gods" aka NRMP have come up with to help the over-populated residency application process. Over the last few years medical schools have increased the number of students they admit each year but the amount of residency spots have not increased; so the residency application process has become even more competitive. So like everything else in medicine, applying to residency is analogous to the Darwinian principle of only the "fittest will survive". Fittest in our world meaning those who have the better board scores, better answers in interviews, maybe even better names (there is a such a thing as generational doctors, where parents pass on the gift of medicine, look into to it, it's a genetic trait) and probably most important when it comes to the application process is having the better strategy.

According to some resources, there are about 34,000 applicants applying for an available 19, 000 residency spots, and only 17,000 of these applicants actually come from the U.S. We are all subjected to take the costly $1,200 U.S dollar Clinical skills exam, which is a required exam of all applicants applying to residency in the U.S. but recently I have come to the conclusion that it is just a tactic to weed out foreign medical graduates who have a difficulty speaking English.

So after you make it through the expensive application process, interviews, and then make your rank list; you then have to agonize through Match week, which is probably the longest week in any med students life. The agony occurs either because you are subjected to still "scrambling" or if you're lucky to have matched on Monday you have to wait patiently/anxiously or spastically (per Michelle, a word we made up for when someone just freaks out randomly) waiting for Friday to come to hear where you matched. Then to make matters worse, the NRMP follows up with a second email in the form of a question, "Where did I match?" "Will you just tell me already!!!" as you spazz out at the computer after a week long build up to Match Day.

So after you survive the grueling process and finally find out that you matched and have a job and where it is exactly, your intense anxiety turns in to what I like to call "random rachet fun". You are so elated that all you want to do is jump around, scream, dance, hug people, smile from ear to ear or may even slap someone on the butt like your a pro in the NFL. Essentially you join the club of medical students who have spent their whole lives dreaming about changing the world ( or making money, no judgments), who then started medical school without realizing just how hard it was going to be, then you couldn't quit because you were either too close to the finish line or too far in debt. So after a lot of hard word and too much delayed gratification you find your self, the very moment you open your envelope and realized you finally have a job; you find your self dancing around like a happy chicken relieved that everyone around you is a vegetarian..

I think it would actually be better if they made it one big match day for all the medical students in the U.S. then transport us to a large open field and allow us to run around scream, rip our clothes off and just let the crazy out for about 30 seconds to release all the built up frustration then allow us to dance all night long. Yup that sounds exactly like what we need, no pictures though, there are just certain ways you don't wanna imagine your doctor. Being in Kenya didn't make my match day any less exciting, especially since 6 of my classmates (3 of which are my close friends) were also here during the big day. So we celebrated with the kind of party one Kenyan referred to as "Severe". The fun was had! Believe me, I made sure of it, being that I was appointed by my physician team leader in Kenya as "Chair of Match Day Festivities". Since we are in Kenya, we had to have a nyama choma (roast goat), Ugali, Kachumbari (Kenyan style pico de gallo) and so much more. The party started a little slow with just about 12 Americans watching the live feed of the match day ceremony occurring at our medical school back in Indiana. I mixed up a little tropical rum punch and within what seemed like minutes the place was crowded, similar to what happens when zombie's smell fresh blood. It was about 1 hour later however, that the Kenyans arrived, taking their commitment to never being on time serious. But they came prepared with great Kenyan music and speakers to blast it through the dining room. By the time the nyama choma was off the grill, people were in the dining room dancing off beat in the dark and we were popping champagne bottles outside to celebrate this great milestone event. (Thanks Dr. G for the donated bottles). Hmmm, If this is what delayed gratification feels like, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I will never forget how difficult my first 2 weeks of medical school was, especially since I had a hard time giving up my habit of watching hours of TV on a daily basis. I would watch TV for 5 hours then stay up till 3 am studying. So I guess it was no surprise when the evening before our first ever quiz in medical school, it was in Cell & Molecular biology, I went home to take a nap and woke 12hours later 20 minutes before my quiz. Needless to say I failed that quiz, but it gave me the much needed kick in the butt I needed. When I got discouraged I remember my Dad would always tell me to "focus on the end result Dr. Gordon". So I wrote it on a piece of paper taped it to my door and would read it on the way to school every day (well on the days I actually went to school since it was much better to watch lectures from my bed). In the midst of it though I was never quite sure when the end would come, but it did. Now it seems like four years just rushed by, and I don't know how I did it, let's just say it was a little of me and a lot of God. So now that we are 49 days from graduation, let's celebrate, have some "rachet random fun" shake what your Momma gave, stay up late, dance like there is no tomorrow, and have a severe time doing it.

It was clear that our Kenyan friends enjoyed the nyama choma and Tusker beer Match day party as much as we did, verified by the text message I woke up to the following morning from one of my Kenyan friends that read, "Thanks for the big party, I niced myself last night". I leaned over from the top bunk in our room to share the text with my roommate Michelle and needless to say, we burst out into uncontrollable laughter sharing our ideas of the many things that text could have meant. Kenyans are really creative at using the word nice, but I have to say this one takes the cake. But if he's using it in the way I think, I "niced" myself last night too. I think our Nyama Choma Match Day party was quite the success. So cheers to all the graduating medical school seniors out there!!! And Match or No Match, celebrate your M.D anyway, Lord knows we worked hard for it. Remember the formula P = MD!