Pre-med blues:

Pre-med blues:

beyond MCATs

Anxiety, overachievers and o-chem make up week in life of med
school hopeful

No other collective class of students holds more intrigue and
wonder for me than "pre-meds." Chances are, if you aren’t already
one, you’ve probably run into a few of them.

According to traditional stereotypes, they’re the ones who
possess extreme study habits, suffer from GPA neurosis and maintain
a fanatical sense of competition. However, you will more likely
remember them as the ones who kicked your ass on the last life
science midterm.

Nevertheless, myths are myths, and in an attempt to demystify
this unique group of individuals, I recently – through difficult
and arduous means – procured a week’s worth of journal excerpts
from a typical pre-med whom we shall call "Bob."

Bob, like the other 75 percent of the campus populace, currently
studies in hope that he will one day attend a highly-ranked medical
school, preferably a UC.

* Monday, Nov. 8

Today, I finally met up with Tommy, Vinh, Janice and some other
friends I haven’t seen in a while due to classes and studies. As a
result, we picked tonight to get together and catch up with one
another.

Tommy commenced the night of festivities by showing us the new
Barron’s MCAT study book he recently bought. Not one to be outdone,
Manish displayed an even larger study prep book while Vinh coolly
informed us that he had signed up for a summer MCAT course. Anney
cynically remarked that she wasn’t surprised that none of them
(Tommy, Vinh and Jerry) were dating.

Annoyed and somewhat intimidated by the serious competitive tone
of the MCAT discussion, I attempted to lighten the conversation by
relating how I had seen this really cute girl in my o-chem
class.

Vinh immediately killed that idea when he asked what she had
scored on the previous midterm and whether she might be able to
contribute to our study group. Anney called him a buffoon, and we
decided to drink the rest of the night away.

However, Tommy complained that he still had a lot to study for
o-chem, and I informed him that he would probably understand the
concepts of that course better if he were inebriated.

* Tuesday, Nov. 9

Big o-chem midterm tomorrow. Studied. Slept. Studied some more.
Saw an hour of Jerry Springer discussing the topic of transvestite
cops who posed for Playboy. Studied again. At about 11:00 p.m., the
realization that I had spent a whole day with my textbook and notes
finally struck me, at which point I briefly contemplated giving up
my academic career to pursue a calling in street poetry.

* Wednesday, Nov.10

I arrived at the midterm site a half-hour before schedule only
to find it already filled with people.

Since I didn’t want to sit in the luxurious aisles usually
afforded me during the lectures, I forced my way into a corner seat
next to a highly nervous individual constantly shuffling through
her pile of lecture notes while mumbling.

I attempted to strike up a short conversation with her but
realized it would have been useless, as her behavior indicated a
pre-med affected with pre-midterm trauma.

After the midterm, Vinh continuously questioned me about
specific problems on the exam which I did not have the desire nor
inclination to recall and discuss. I promptly returned to my
apartment and slept.

* Thursday, Nov. 11

The day after the big midterm.

Post-midterm angst revealed itself on the melancholy and sullen
faces of the various pre-meds I ran into throughout the day. In my
o-chem discussion, one person asked my teaching assistant what the
mean, median and standard deviation was for the exam, to which my
TA answered that he did not know.

A few seconds later, an anal-retentive student repeated the
question to the TA, but this time, with a more anxious and nervous
tone.

* Friday, Nov. 12

The scores for our midterm were posted in Young Hall today. As I
searched for my score, I could not help but notice a sobbing voice
to my right. I turned my head to see Anney crying miserably. In
answer to my worried inquiries she weakly replied, "I only scored
slightly above the mean. I didn’t get an A." Despite my best
efforts to calm her, I could see that she was beyond help (or hope)
and left her alone.

As I write this now, at the end of a terribly long week, I
cannot help but wonder about the "whys" and "what fors" of my
situation – my participation in the fraternity of overachieving,
single-minded pre-meds.

The truth is, I have to do certain things during my time at UCLA
to gain acceptance into medical school. But does the mere thought
that some medical school might look kindly upon me mean I should
compromise my personal values to succeed?

Should I turn into an ambitious, slobbering, brownnosing,
repugnant individual who likes to laugh at the professors’ jokes
and discuss carbon molecules with friends in his free time? Or a
person so involved with studies that I forget how to enjoy
life?

The four years I spend in medical school will be followed by
another two or three in which I work as an indentured servant to
the government to pay off my loans.

Then, the big bucks will start to roll in. Yup, there I’ll be,
in my 40s with a receding hairline, watching reruns of "Mad About
You" when I get home from work. Yes, I’ll be making the money then.
It’s just too bad that I chose to sacrifice my youth and vitality
to get to that point.

In any case, I just wanted to write down some thoughts which
have been troubling me. If my current experience with pre-meds does
ring true, then we will eventually face a generation of
self-serving, zealously ambitious doctors who had the opportunity
to practice those qualities while still in school. Something to
look forward to, I suppose.

Chieng is a second-year biology student.

Chieh Li Chieng

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