*This chapter is a Part II of my MCW story, which started in the previous chapter (Chapter 18).
There are people around me, watching my face, unsure of whether or not these are tears of joy or sorrow. The day was warm and the hospital water fountain left the sound of water dancing behind me in the background. The future seemed a million times brighter that day, and all I could do was think back to where this began:
“On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my pleasure to extend you an invitation to interview for the entering class of 2017…”
I read and re-read that sentence, checked the subject of the email again, checked the “Dear Manar” introduction to reassure myself that indeed, this was an interview invite meant for me and not sent by mistake. As I continued reading the email, my heart raced more and more. Someone had given up their interview slot last minute, and this was one of the last interview slots of the season. “Would you be available?”
Would I be available?!
I called my closest friend, and after minutes of rambling and speaking a mile a minute, I finally paused to take a deep breath, awaiting some kind of response from her. We were both thinking the same things: How? What?! The cycle is almost over...This is crazy!
Past the excitement though, my mind was fighting a battle. I was content, happy, trusting, and fully accepting of the path that Allah had sent me on, even if that left me 7 hours away from my family. I was sitting in a bright room with the blinds open, looking out the window at a sunny landscape. There was no reason to want anything more. And I didn’t ask for anything more. In fact, I had learned to be grateful, truly grateful, for the first time in my life because there is no way to accept what you have other than to be grateful for it no matter what it was.
And yet now, it was as though someone had suddenly yanked open the window, and I got to feel the breeze outside of the room I was in, reach my arm outside of the window the touch the air. I was so close to what I wanted most, something I had convinced myself not to dwell on so I do not lose sight of how grateful I am. Suddenly though, the rules were gone and I became thinking of how easy it would be being at a school that is so close to home, it’s basically home, and how amazing it would be for my family, for my sister, for me to be home. I began fighting a battle between being content with what I already received and what this opportunity would give me. If it even worked out.
Interview day came and went and I was very thankful that I did not have many days to think or worry about my interview day for too long. But I will say that the pressure I felt, the fear, the nerves, everything was at its highest on the day of the interview. This was the closest school, and I did not want to ruin my chances. At this point, I was on the waitlist at the second closest school, so I did not want to be waiting even more. Additionally, this school had given me an opportunity I did not think I’d receive, so obviously, this was a GIFT and I couldn’t let it go to waste.
On the drive to the interview, I remember thinking one repetitive thought. I started out my interviews at the farther schools and my last interviews were for the schools that were at the top of my list. It was like Allah (SWT) was preparing me for the harder and more important challenges by letting me go through the ones that I had less pressure to get into first. Obviously, a medical school interview is still a scary-stressful-but-also-really-fun experience, but I don’t think I could have handled them the same way I did if they had not gone in the order they did. It is for this same reason I believe I was granted a gap year. There is a time for you to grow and become stronger for the next step, and these were all necessary to do my best in each of my next steps.
My next step at the moment: killing my MCW interview.
So I thought I did. I thought it went incredibly well. I felt happy with it, but I was also t-e-r-r-i-f-i-e-d. What if I thought it went better than it actually did? What if there were better students? What if they didn’t like me? What if my scores don’t meet the standards? What if, what if, what if…
I waited for 3 weeks to hear back from the school. Three weeks of recanting my interview responses to my parents, analyzing over my interviews comments to my answers, thinking of ways I could have, may have, misunderstood the questions they asked.
Three weeks of calling admissions reps, journaling as much my emotions would let me, and finding ways once again to relax. I went through my moments of panic, of fear, of distress. The mental battle was at its high. I wanted this so badly that I forgot that feeling of contentment. It was like it was drifting away from me in the water, and I was reaching my hand out, trying to get it back.
My parents played their fair share of easing my anxieties and simultaneously making worse. While they reminded reasons I should feel happy and confident, they were also too confident and too hopeful. Each time they said “Well if you go to Milwaukee…” I would respond with “If I go….if it happens….” or “If it doesn’t work out, it’s because Allah does not see it fit for me.” They would roll their eyes and tell me to trust Allah. What I tried to explain but many had difficulty understanding was that this was me trusting Allah: by being content and focusing on that. I could not imagine something that was not mine. I was terrified of how I might feel if I was disappointed again like last year. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I could not shake for three weeks. It turned out that sometimes your gut-feeling is right.
At the end of March, I received an email from MCW. I parked my car to the side of the road, hands trembling, and this time only read this email once: I was waitlisted.
My mental battle hit its climax that day. I had been so good, so content, so satisfied with my journey, why did I get to get a glimpse of this life I could have, see the happy faces of my parents, become excited about something that was not meant for me?! The frustration I felt was similar to how I felt at the end of the last cycle, which was what I was worried about experiencing. Suddenly, it did not matter that I had already been accepted at multiple schools. What mattered was I didn’t get this. I tasted the fruit but couldn’t have it. The worst part was it took me at least two days to get over that feeling, to wash out the bitter taste of disappointment/anger off my tongue.
It was most difficult to look at my parents after this. I recall having an emotional conversation with my mom after the decision, during which I finally said what I was worried they were thinking: that they were disappointed in me. There must have been a way that I could have done something better. Maybe answered a question better, studied for the MCAT better, worked harder on my application essay, etc. Having that conversation with both my parents was so important because it made us confront the fact that we had to move forward and accept another challenge from Allah.
I focused on other things instead. My cycle was over, I was accepted. Time to move forward. I could do what I wanted for the first time in 5 years because I no longer had anything to show off to a school. I began looking for apartments in Kirksville, planning for moving there in July. I picked the date I’d most likely be moving. I started looking for a roommate. I was going to force my mind to go back to being content, and the only way to do so was to enjoy what I had and not to focus on what I didn’t.
I resumed working in the ER doing my scribe duties and enjoying it as much as I could. In the meantime, I continued to get emails here and there from both schools I was waitlisted at now. I hated the emails. They made my heart stop each time, thinking that by some miracle I had received a positive response.
But I could not continue to let myself imagine something that was not mine.
I received letters of recommendation from physicians I worked with and sent letters with any kinds of updates to the school. But then I could not dwell on it more than that. I worked a lot and continued to get as much experience as possible. I woke up in the early hours of dawn to pray for what was best for me and for my family over and over and over again.
Three days before my final deposit at Kirksville was due, my mom asked me once again about whether or not I might hear back this week from them. I told her it was still too early, I probably was not at the top of the waitlist. I gave every excuse in the book, every reason there were all these other students who were a million times better. I also said something that I continue to reflect on now: “If it is written for me, then the longer I have to wait, the better it will feel to receive it.”
That same day, my sister had a bad day and it reminded me of how painful it would be for her when I left. We had grown so attached and close over the past year, and I know that a large part of it is due to this impending move that we knew would be coming the minute I received my first interview invite. The closer it came, the more real it felt, and the more worried I felt for her.
That day, I looked her in the eyes and told her that on my roughest days, Allah had a way of making the day better either by sending me an incredibly nice patient who made me happy or in general placing situations or people in my day that would turn it around. I hoped she believed me.
Two hours later, while sitting at my desk at work, I receive an email and a phone call from MCW. The email did not give much information about why they called, so I politely excused myself from the physician’s desk and scrambled to find a place in the hospital where there would be cell service, which ended up being outside. My palms were sweating, I was pacing back and forth, and I was pretty sure that all anatomical rules did not apply since my heart was basically sitting in my chest.
I don’t recall everything the admissions representative said on the phone after I said “Hello.” I remember my ears feeling muffled and the heart beat seemed so loud I thought I was straining to hear her. What I do recall is something about “pulling students off the waitlist,” “liked your application,” and “we would like to offer you a seat.”
I could not breathe or focus. There I was standing at the front of the hospital with tears rolling down my face, my mouth gaped open.
I need to tell my sister! I need to tell Mama and Baba! I won’t be far away, I won’t be far away!
“Hello? Will you accept?”
Allah listened.
As I replay that moment inside my head over and over again to remember that it did actually happen, I continue to believe one thing: when you are thankful, Allah will make you content with whatever it is He sends your way. And once you are there, anything you receive will be the biggest blessing because you don’t make your sanity depend on it. You believe that if it is for you, it will be yours. And if not, you’ll focus on what you have, and you’ll be content with it.
I am more than content. Alhamdulillah (Thank God).
I should mention that many of you may have not even known I interviewed at Milwaukee until I broke the news about my acceptance. And the reason being that after going through two cycles, you learn that things become significantly less stressful when the only people who know can be counted on one hand (basically your immediate family). They were my biggest cheerleaders, the most honest humans in my life. They lifted me up each time I spent any given minute doubting my capabilities. They built me into who I am, and they were the only ones I needed to be accountable to.
Yes, it meant at some point I was very disconnected from many people. But the journey to medical school is often isolating, and this is definitely one of those moments. Being isolated can make it easier to only handle the one stressed out voice in your head and let go of the questions or opinions of others, even if they are out of concern or love. I always said that once I made a decision, I would finally open up about the entire process and about where I was going. But I needed time to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to let myself finally make it out of the water. So I thank you for all of your support and understanding :)
There are people around me, watching my face, unsure of whether or not these are tears of joy or sorrow. The day was warm and the hospital water fountain left the sound of water dancing behind me in the background. The future seemed a million times brighter that day, and all I could do was think back to where this began:
“On behalf of the Admissions Committee, it is my pleasure to extend you an invitation to interview for the entering class of 2017…”
I read and re-read that sentence, checked the subject of the email again, checked the “Dear Manar” introduction to reassure myself that indeed, this was an interview invite meant for me and not sent by mistake. As I continued reading the email, my heart raced more and more. Someone had given up their interview slot last minute, and this was one of the last interview slots of the season. “Would you be available?”
Would I be available?!
I called my closest friend, and after minutes of rambling and speaking a mile a minute, I finally paused to take a deep breath, awaiting some kind of response from her. We were both thinking the same things: How? What?! The cycle is almost over...This is crazy!
Past the excitement though, my mind was fighting a battle. I was content, happy, trusting, and fully accepting of the path that Allah had sent me on, even if that left me 7 hours away from my family. I was sitting in a bright room with the blinds open, looking out the window at a sunny landscape. There was no reason to want anything more. And I didn’t ask for anything more. In fact, I had learned to be grateful, truly grateful, for the first time in my life because there is no way to accept what you have other than to be grateful for it no matter what it was.
And yet now, it was as though someone had suddenly yanked open the window, and I got to feel the breeze outside of the room I was in, reach my arm outside of the window the touch the air. I was so close to what I wanted most, something I had convinced myself not to dwell on so I do not lose sight of how grateful I am. Suddenly though, the rules were gone and I became thinking of how easy it would be being at a school that is so close to home, it’s basically home, and how amazing it would be for my family, for my sister, for me to be home. I began fighting a battle between being content with what I already received and what this opportunity would give me. If it even worked out.
Interview day came and went and I was very thankful that I did not have many days to think or worry about my interview day for too long. But I will say that the pressure I felt, the fear, the nerves, everything was at its highest on the day of the interview. This was the closest school, and I did not want to ruin my chances. At this point, I was on the waitlist at the second closest school, so I did not want to be waiting even more. Additionally, this school had given me an opportunity I did not think I’d receive, so obviously, this was a GIFT and I couldn’t let it go to waste.
On the drive to the interview, I remember thinking one repetitive thought. I started out my interviews at the farther schools and my last interviews were for the schools that were at the top of my list. It was like Allah (SWT) was preparing me for the harder and more important challenges by letting me go through the ones that I had less pressure to get into first. Obviously, a medical school interview is still a scary-stressful-but-also-really-fun experience, but I don’t think I could have handled them the same way I did if they had not gone in the order they did. It is for this same reason I believe I was granted a gap year. There is a time for you to grow and become stronger for the next step, and these were all necessary to do my best in each of my next steps.
My next step at the moment: killing my MCW interview.
So I thought I did. I thought it went incredibly well. I felt happy with it, but I was also t-e-r-r-i-f-i-e-d. What if I thought it went better than it actually did? What if there were better students? What if they didn’t like me? What if my scores don’t meet the standards? What if, what if, what if…
I waited for 3 weeks to hear back from the school. Three weeks of recanting my interview responses to my parents, analyzing over my interviews comments to my answers, thinking of ways I could have, may have, misunderstood the questions they asked.
Three weeks of calling admissions reps, journaling as much my emotions would let me, and finding ways once again to relax. I went through my moments of panic, of fear, of distress. The mental battle was at its high. I wanted this so badly that I forgot that feeling of contentment. It was like it was drifting away from me in the water, and I was reaching my hand out, trying to get it back.
My parents played their fair share of easing my anxieties and simultaneously making worse. While they reminded reasons I should feel happy and confident, they were also too confident and too hopeful. Each time they said “Well if you go to Milwaukee…” I would respond with “If I go….if it happens….” or “If it doesn’t work out, it’s because Allah does not see it fit for me.” They would roll their eyes and tell me to trust Allah. What I tried to explain but many had difficulty understanding was that this was me trusting Allah: by being content and focusing on that. I could not imagine something that was not mine. I was terrified of how I might feel if I was disappointed again like last year. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that I could not shake for three weeks. It turned out that sometimes your gut-feeling is right.
At the end of March, I received an email from MCW. I parked my car to the side of the road, hands trembling, and this time only read this email once: I was waitlisted.
My mental battle hit its climax that day. I had been so good, so content, so satisfied with my journey, why did I get to get a glimpse of this life I could have, see the happy faces of my parents, become excited about something that was not meant for me?! The frustration I felt was similar to how I felt at the end of the last cycle, which was what I was worried about experiencing. Suddenly, it did not matter that I had already been accepted at multiple schools. What mattered was I didn’t get this. I tasted the fruit but couldn’t have it. The worst part was it took me at least two days to get over that feeling, to wash out the bitter taste of disappointment/anger off my tongue.
It was most difficult to look at my parents after this. I recall having an emotional conversation with my mom after the decision, during which I finally said what I was worried they were thinking: that they were disappointed in me. There must have been a way that I could have done something better. Maybe answered a question better, studied for the MCAT better, worked harder on my application essay, etc. Having that conversation with both my parents was so important because it made us confront the fact that we had to move forward and accept another challenge from Allah.
I focused on other things instead. My cycle was over, I was accepted. Time to move forward. I could do what I wanted for the first time in 5 years because I no longer had anything to show off to a school. I began looking for apartments in Kirksville, planning for moving there in July. I picked the date I’d most likely be moving. I started looking for a roommate. I was going to force my mind to go back to being content, and the only way to do so was to enjoy what I had and not to focus on what I didn’t.
I resumed working in the ER doing my scribe duties and enjoying it as much as I could. In the meantime, I continued to get emails here and there from both schools I was waitlisted at now. I hated the emails. They made my heart stop each time, thinking that by some miracle I had received a positive response.
But I could not continue to let myself imagine something that was not mine.
I received letters of recommendation from physicians I worked with and sent letters with any kinds of updates to the school. But then I could not dwell on it more than that. I worked a lot and continued to get as much experience as possible. I woke up in the early hours of dawn to pray for what was best for me and for my family over and over and over again.
Three days before my final deposit at Kirksville was due, my mom asked me once again about whether or not I might hear back this week from them. I told her it was still too early, I probably was not at the top of the waitlist. I gave every excuse in the book, every reason there were all these other students who were a million times better. I also said something that I continue to reflect on now: “If it is written for me, then the longer I have to wait, the better it will feel to receive it.”
That same day, my sister had a bad day and it reminded me of how painful it would be for her when I left. We had grown so attached and close over the past year, and I know that a large part of it is due to this impending move that we knew would be coming the minute I received my first interview invite. The closer it came, the more real it felt, and the more worried I felt for her.
That day, I looked her in the eyes and told her that on my roughest days, Allah had a way of making the day better either by sending me an incredibly nice patient who made me happy or in general placing situations or people in my day that would turn it around. I hoped she believed me.
Two hours later, while sitting at my desk at work, I receive an email and a phone call from MCW. The email did not give much information about why they called, so I politely excused myself from the physician’s desk and scrambled to find a place in the hospital where there would be cell service, which ended up being outside. My palms were sweating, I was pacing back and forth, and I was pretty sure that all anatomical rules did not apply since my heart was basically sitting in my chest.
I don’t recall everything the admissions representative said on the phone after I said “Hello.” I remember my ears feeling muffled and the heart beat seemed so loud I thought I was straining to hear her. What I do recall is something about “pulling students off the waitlist,” “liked your application,” and “we would like to offer you a seat.”
I could not breathe or focus. There I was standing at the front of the hospital with tears rolling down my face, my mouth gaped open.
I need to tell my sister! I need to tell Mama and Baba! I won’t be far away, I won’t be far away!
“Hello? Will you accept?”
Allah listened.
As I replay that moment inside my head over and over again to remember that it did actually happen, I continue to believe one thing: when you are thankful, Allah will make you content with whatever it is He sends your way. And once you are there, anything you receive will be the biggest blessing because you don’t make your sanity depend on it. You believe that if it is for you, it will be yours. And if not, you’ll focus on what you have, and you’ll be content with it.
I am more than content. Alhamdulillah (Thank God).
I should mention that many of you may have not even known I interviewed at Milwaukee until I broke the news about my acceptance. And the reason being that after going through two cycles, you learn that things become significantly less stressful when the only people who know can be counted on one hand (basically your immediate family). They were my biggest cheerleaders, the most honest humans in my life. They lifted me up each time I spent any given minute doubting my capabilities. They built me into who I am, and they were the only ones I needed to be accountable to.
Yes, it meant at some point I was very disconnected from many people. But the journey to medical school is often isolating, and this is definitely one of those moments. Being isolated can make it easier to only handle the one stressed out voice in your head and let go of the questions or opinions of others, even if they are out of concern or love. I always said that once I made a decision, I would finally open up about the entire process and about where I was going. But I needed time to see the light at the end of the tunnel, to let myself finally make it out of the water. So I thank you for all of your support and understanding :)
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