Tamara Bockow
It’s the night before Match Day. I can’t believe it’s finally here; it’s almost surreal. I am trying to approach this with no expectations. I feel like wherever I match, that is where I am supposed to be. I have to know that things happen for a reason and I’ll end up where I should be. Every place that I ranked is great, and I know I’ll receive great clinical training at any of those places. However, it would be nice to get my first choice (or maybe even my first or second choice). I think your residency training shapes the kind of doctor you become. Each institution has it’s own philosophies, and nuance ways of practicing. Where you train dictates the kind of medicine you will practice – at least to some extent.
Match day is all that everyone is talking about. Med students are making predictions and expressing fears. All the talk is exciting, but at the same time, it makes me that much more anxious. It’s not like you can forget that it’s happening.
Tomorrow morning a few friends and I are going out for brunch. We all decided that we didn’t just want to sit home alone and “think” about what was going to happen in the next few hours.
I recently read that apparently, the process takes all of five minutes to match the approximately 17,000 med students in the country with all the residencies. I also found out today that the programs have already been notified about their future residents. Precisely at noon, tomorrow, we will be handed our envelopes, one by one, that hold the key to our future.
Ben Oshlag
I'm finally starting to get nervous this morning. I didn't really have the chance yesterday, which was jam-packed with moving out of my apartment in preparation for my elective in India, which I leave for tomorrow. Between driving back and forth across the city, and all the packing, lifting, and moving, any creeping anxiety about today was easily pushed to the back of my mind. It was only later last night, when I tried to start winding down, that I could really start to sense how close today was. I managed to get a decent night's sleep, surprisingly, though I am up much earlier than I normally would be on a day I don't have to be anywhere before 11. I'll be packing up one more car-full of stuff before heading over to campus for the match ceremony. Even now, though, I don't know that it's fully hit me that today is the day -- that will probably come when they start reading off names, and I wait for mine to be called. But I can feel the nervous excitement starting to build already, and hope the next few hours of anticipation go quickly, so I can finally find out where I'll be spending the next 3-4 years.
Jess Spivey
It’s Match Day morning, finally! My plans:
1. Find Nemo. First, I’ll probably go for a quick swim. I'm an incredibly inefficient swimmer, and focusing on technique takes major concentration. It’ll be a great way to keep from thinking too much about the match.
2. Get some sustenance. Match Day calls for a hot chocolate from Wawa.
3. Be lazy. I think I’ll lounge around on the couch for awhile. I might take a cat nap or I might watch The Price is Right, but I won’t feel like a true MS4 unless I make sure to waste some time.
4. Meander over to school. I’ll listen to music on the way. Before every test in medical school, I would listen to a song called “Auto Rock” by Mogwai, so I’ll probably just stick with that. It’s both calming and invigorating, which seems appropriate for Match Day.
5. Rip open a really important envelope. I’ll probably accidentally rip the letter a little bit too, since I’m usually hasty with things like that. I guess these hands were never meant for neurosurgery. I’ll read the bold part first. If it’s anything like lecture notes, all of the important stuff should be in bold.
6. Relax for three months. Residency spot secured!
Isabela Wieczorek
My boyfriend asked, “how excited are you about March Madness?” I went ahead and made a bracket, but told him I won’t be able to concentrate on games and scores until I have Match Day off my shoulders. As much as I have tried to distract myself today, Match has managed to get rid of my appetite and make my hands shake. Sleep has also been eluding me and I don't think I'll sleep soundly until I know a bit more about what the next 4 years will look like.
I try to picture what will happen tomorrow: my name will be called, I will walk to the stage to receive my envelope, walk back to my seat, and probably have a friend open the envelope for me. When I was a college senior waiting for my MCAT score, my best friend was the one who logged onto the website and told me the grade. Strangely, the process of opening a webpage or an envelope just exacerbates the anxiety I feel.
Tomorrow morning, my boyfriend arrives from a red-eye flight, and my roommate leaves early to go take Step 1 (a very big day for her as well!). My plan is to get up and have breakfast and coffee at home, and then try to squeeze in a workout before the festivities begin. And it will be quite a celebration. After the ceremony we will have brunch and champagne outside of Dunlop auditorium. At 2pm we move on to a local bar for drinks and appetizers, and later many of us will go to dinner and end the night dancing.
13 different cities, 15 different programs… I know that wherever I end up, be it East or West coast, large or small city, warm or cold weather… it is going to be up to me to work as hard as I can to become like one of the brilliant and inspiring dermatologists I met on the interview trail.