Fever Pitch

My medical application 2014 has reached critical point. I have now been officially rejected from Barts, Southampton and Birmingham. To be honest I’m not surprised; there was hope while they were doling out the interview invites, and even desperate dreams of a wait list offer as the interviews were in progress, but when people were discussing whether of not to firm offers from these institutions I realised that hope was futile and each of these universities were cruel. However, even with these realisations, common sense was not functioning when I received the UCAS updates. My heart stopped and my stomach flipped (especially Southampton, which came after my Warwick interview) when I logged into track to view my failure.

There remains only one hope that come 2018 I will become a junior doctor… That hope lies in the hands of the course selectors of Warwick Medical School. I keep asking myself what my contingency plan would be and honesty I have no clue. I can’t do another masters (though I am tempted), I refuse to do a PhD and spend 3/4 years not doing medicine, I have tried working and while aspects of it were enjoyable I refuse to be pressurised and made to care about inconsequential things (i.e. baguettes and the temperature of a bloody latte!). This leaves two options: Sleep for a year or get into medical school. Needless to say I prefer the latter… though I am known to indulge in a lie-in or two…

My mind keeps drifting back to the selection day, did my interviewer look bored as I babbled on about communication skills and helping people, should I have shouted more in the group task, did I spell my name correctly in the written task! Paranoia and anxiety are slowly edging into more of my waking hours. I have soo my revision to do for my exams I shouldn’t even have time to think about breathing let alone what I was doing two weeks ago, who react how and whether my shoes looked professional enough (should’ve gone with the low heels, for sure). Maybe all this worrying is a new cunning form of procrastination, to stop me from fully engaging in my current studies. If so, touché procrastination. Touché.