Curiouser and curiouser

November 30, 2006 at 2:03 pm | Posted in neurosurgery | Leave a comment

Interesting…I got a personalized letter from the program director at Duke. It said nothing about where they plan to rank me, but it was still very nice. And it was definitely not a form letter.

And UCLA un-rejected me yesterday as well. Now I have an interview there next Wednesday. That brings the total to 11, a much less anxiety-provoking number than just ten. It’s only one more interview, but somehow it makes a huge difference.

Still, if all goes well, the lowest I should fall is Cincinnati, and I plan to rank it in my top four at this point.

I have LSU, Tulane, Mayo, UCLA and USC remaining.

Baylor

November 28, 2006 at 8:59 pm | Posted in neurosurgery | Leave a comment

Because I can’t leave out Baylor!

Pro:
1. Solid all-around program
2. Lots of operative autonomy at Ben Taub
3. Lots of new faculty
4. Good mix of hospitals
5. Outstanding tumor research, now with research year
6. Best choice if I want to stay in region
7. Already know most residents/faculty
8. In my hometown
9. Good clinical/operative reputation

Con:
1. Parking
2. Parking
3. Parking
4. Houston
5. Would be difficult to branch out from tumor research, if my interests change
6. ? academic placement history

Cedars-Sinai

November 28, 2006 at 6:10 pm | Posted in neurosurgery | Leave a comment

This was by far my most interesting interview. Turns out Cedars is not actually in Beverly Hills. The residents were very emphatic about the fact that it was located in West Hollywood. Later I spoke to one of the LA natives on the interview, who thought it was funny that they had been so emphatic, since you’d think they’d prefer to be associated with a rich part of town over a gay part of town. But I suppose from a patient population point of view the gay neighborhood adds diversity.

The people there were interesting. I ran into a girl I met earlier on the trail, who intimated that the other students from my rotation at Barrow have been badmouthing me to anyone who will listen. So unprofessional.

This was one of those interviews where they test both your dexterity and moral compass. We had to tie a square knot with a shoelace around a candle shaped like a billiard ball (and with a similar tendency to roll away from you), while answering questions. It was harder than it sounds, although I did manage to do it in the end. Then another interviewer asked me how I would solve a particular ethical dilemma. Ethical questions are usually pretty easy to answer, since there are usually a number of ways to solve a problem that don’t involve unethical behavior. I don’t understand why people find them difficult.

The weird activity at this interview was writing a paragraph in our own handwriting on a blank piece of paper, and then signing our names, and printing our names underneath it. The paragraph could be about anything we wanted, so I used the opportunity to write them my thank you note. At one point, I asked Dr. Danielpour what he was going to do with our paragraphs, and I didn’t get a straight answer. I’m sure it’s for handwriting analysis, though. And sure enough, I just did a search on handwriting analysis and found a do-it-yourself site where you can enter in information about the writing vs. the signature vs. the printing and get a superficial analysis of the person’s character. So I entered in the information from my writing (which was a little less slanty and a lot less loopy than normal), and well, at least it presents a picture consistent with my interview. Still, it’s a bit irritating that they’d rely on a computer-generated superficial analysis. At least do us the courtesy of getting a professional opinion.

As for the program itself, here’s the pro and con list.

Pro:
1. Lots of faculty
2. Nice facilities
3. Good research support (mostly tumors/spine)
4. Lots of flexibility
5. Excellent spine and tumor experience
6. In a big city
7. Good operative volume
8. Huge book fund (>$1000)

Con:
1. 1 resident/year
2. Service can run without residents
3. Weak trauma
4. ? Vascular
5. Los Angeles
6. Program rep could go either way at this point
7. Weak ICU experience
8. Cost of living in LA
9. Loupes paid for, but out of PD’s pocket
10. High-maintenance patients

Tales from the Trail, part 2

November 22, 2006 at 5:05 am | Posted in clothing, interviews, neurosurgery | Leave a comment

Do you ever run across someone who’s dressed so inappropriately that it can’t possibly be an accident, and yet they don’t seem aware of it? There was this girl at my last interview who wore a shirt on which the first button was already too low, and even so, she left it unbuttoned. So, you could see the bottom edge of her bra. I mean, even if she’d buttoned it, it would have been too revealing.

What gets me is that no one else seemed to notice, either. Which is weird, because neurosurgery is not the kind of crowd to politely ignore anything.

The other thing that doesn’t make sense is that the person in question is one of those people who has to be better than you at everything. Like, if she finds out you’re doing something that makes you a better applicant in some way, she has to do it twice as much or be twice as good at it, and then she always makes sure to mention it in your presence. Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but it’s still very annoying. It seems like the only reason she wants something is to beat out somebody else.

So it doesn’t make sense to me that she would go off the deep end with the cleavage, when nobody else is even trying to show any in a subtle way. Possibly she wasn’t aware of it, but given how meticulous she is about everything else, I find that hard to believe.

Duke

November 19, 2006 at 9:15 am | Posted in interviews, neurosurgery | Leave a comment

So I just interviewed at Duke. Much nicer program than I anticipated. My only reservation is that, once again, everyone is married. But I met most of their wives, and they’re all very nice people. That was also somewhat different from the other places I’ve been, where I’ve never seen any of the spouses, unless they were also residents.

So the Duke list is as follows:
Pro:
1. excellent depth and breadth of research
2. cool group of residents
3. attendings seem non-malignant
4. other medical specialties are excellent as well
5. scenic area
6. academically oriented
7. Loupes paid for

Con:
1. small town
2. white pants/short coat
3. most residents married

Cincinnati, BNI

November 10, 2006 at 5:09 am | Posted in neurosurgery | Leave a comment

Cincinnati
Pro:
1. well-rounded program
2. residents get along well
3. good children’s hospital
4. moonlighting
5. 3 residents/yr
6. low cost of living
7. Cincinnati has a lot of stuff to do
8. Can do 2 research years in 7 yr program

Con:
1. Hard to meet people in Cincinnati
2. Too many people at University/not enough cases?
3. Buy your own loupe
4. Med school significantly lower caliber than residency

Barrow Neurological Institute
Pro:
1. No double-scrubbing–every case you do is primarily yours
2. Great reputation for technical competence of graduates
3. Solid support for clinical research
4. New med school starting next year
5. Navy scrubs
6. Low cost of living in Phoenix/high resident salaries
7. Loupes and lead paid for
8. HUGE volume of cases and patient load
9. Graduated call responsibility, Q4-5 at worst
10. Fabulous ancillary staffing

Con:
1. Call is ALWAYS hectic
2. Limited bench research options
3. Phoenix
4. Very un-intellectual atmosphere
5. I’m not a jock
6. Limited peds exposure

Splenda season

November 4, 2006 at 1:39 am | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

I will be on blogging hiatus until rank order lists are submitted, which will be in mid-January. Please check back then.

Note: there may occasionally be a post or two, if I run across something particularly entertaining. But very likely it’ll be a link to something else, and not original content.

What happened

November 3, 2006 at 1:34 am | Posted in neurosurgery | Leave a comment

I’m bored out of my mind right now. I have a long To Do list, which is getting done very very slowly. I get writer’s block every time I sit down to write Thank You notes, and the letter from my first away rotation still hasn’t arrived. And there have been NO new interview invitations in over two weeks. No rejections, either, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot. So I’m fighting disappointment, and right now the disappointment is winning.

You may wonder what precipitated the gunfire on my last away rotation, when I constantly lament that I’m not on top of my game. Well, two things happened in the space of two days which made it look as though I had locked up a spot there, when in fact that was not at all the case.

First, on rounds Wednesday there was a patient in the section where I was rounding in whom an MRI was contraindicated due to some sort of metal implant, but whom everyone thought had a brain tumor of some sort. However, the CT scan that had been done instead showed a 1.5 x 2.5cm nonenhancing and ill-defined hypointense lesion in the basal ganglia/internal capsule region. So everybody in our little group took bets on what it was. The 5th year (i.e. the resident with the most say in ranking applicants) said he thought it was a lymphoma, and then turned to me and said, “if you get it right you’re in.” At breakfast, I told him my guess, which was that it was an ischemic stroke. The next day in team rounds, he said that the neuroradiologist had indeed read it as an ischemic stroke. I said, “YES!” and did a small happy dance, and the 5th year said, in front of everyone, “you’re in!” After rounds I heard the chief chiding him for saying that, and he replied with something to the effect that he thought they needed an older resident, and then I couldn’t hear any more. So later at breakfast that day, I sat down with him and the chief and made a point of saying I wouldn’d hold him to what he’d said, since he hadn’t seen all the applicants, and I hadn’t seen all the programs.

So I told the other students I’d said that, to try and head off any jealous sniping, and one of them replied, “well, of course he was joking. Nobody ever says something like that and means it.” Which I thought was kind of bitchy, but I let it go.

Then the next thing that happened was on Friday after the last two of us gave our presentations. I’d started off my presentation saying that it had been several years since I’d given a talk to an audience that size, and apologized for being a little rusty. I had let the other student go first, since that presentation was on a non-research topic and I thought that student would look better presenting before the research talk than they would after. And their talk did go well, and I was impressed. And I didn’t think my talk had gone well at all.

However, later that morning I was scrubbed into one of the program chairman’s cases, and that other student was case-hopping, and happened to be in my room when the chairman came in for the critical part of the case and made a point of complimenting me on my presentation. He said that it was a good presentation, and that I had no need to apologize for my presenting skills. He said nothing to the other student, probably because he didn’t know the other student was in the room. Unfortunately, that student happened to be the most insecure of the group, and felt at a disadvantage coming from a lesser-known school and without research experience. To make matters worse, that student was also my assigned roommate for the rotation.

So it was downhill from that point on. I don’t know how to deal with other women’s envy, and I never have been able to do it well. The problem is that I actually do care whether they like me or not, but I always feel as though the more I excel, no matter how considerate I am of them in the process, the less other women like me. I know that screwing up is not the answer, but I’m at a loss for how to keep women friends otherwise. Men don’t seem to react the same way in this respect. You excel, they respect you more. Maybe they don’t ask you out, but they don’t punish you for being better than them at something. So it feels like I really do have to choose between excelling in some particular arena and having women friends there as well.

And the sad thing is that I’m not really better than them. There was just the perception that I am. And really not even the perception, but only the other students’ impression that there was. What I mean by that is that I’m quite certain the chairman would have complimented the other student as well, had he known the other student was present. And my CT scan read was born of a year’s worth of participating in neuroradiology rounds with the neurology residents when I was on service. And the neurology residents were held to a much stricter standard when requesting MRIs than were the neurosurgery residents, and consequently there were numerous instances where there was only a CT scan available. I mean, even if I weren’t trying hard to teach myself how to read the scans, I’d have at least learned a few things by osmosis. So not only was that not an even playing field, but the other students weren’t even asked their opinion.

Still, it’s worth noting that if the situation were reversed, I’d have congratulated the student who read that scan correctly, and echoed the chairman’s sentiments had they been directed toward the other student. At most, I’d have joked within everyone’s hearing about how there were only 3 spots left now. But none of those things happened.

Lessons learned the hard way

November 1, 2006 at 12:52 am | Posted in admissions, interviews | Leave a comment

Admissions committee meeting yesterday. It’s odd when you think about it: here I am flipping through a bunch of applications for med school, as people all over the country are flipping through my application for residency. It’s truly a miracle I ever got in to med school, anywhere.

I’m one of those slow people who reads the whole file. I figure it’s the least I can do, and you never know what interesting piece of info is hiding in all that verbiage. But at the end, I listen to my gut. So my score is sometimes different from other people’s. I hate making the committee review a file further, but some people just seem so boring and cookie-cutter I can’t see them here, no matter what their interviewers say. And I have yet to see any interviewer recommend anything other than to admit someone. So somebody’s gotta be the bad guy.

Plus, I’ve had student interviewers tell me that they always recommend admitting someone, which is just annoying to hear, because we rely on them to screen for people who’d be a good fit for Tulane. I suspect it’s mostly empathy at play, rather than any actual evaluation or judgment. Me, I don’t have a problem with that. I empathize, yes–how could I not? But my job is to judge, and if I say yes to all comers, then I’m just abdicating my responsibility. Plus, I have experience hiring people, and firing them as well, so I have at least some idea of what constitutes a real warning sign vs what looks bad but doesn’t mean anything.

When I was a student interviewer, I recommended admitting about 40%, and waitlisting almost everybody else. One person I recommended rejecting outright. She was about a year out from a major flake-out episode, without any explanation or any lessons learned. I mean, she could have told me she flaked because she was in love with her boyfriend and had to be with him, or something equally immature and short-sighted, and it would have been better than the explanation she gave. Or she could even have said, I didn’t have a good reason, and I realize now how stupid it was. My standards are pretty low when it comes to explaining dumb things people do in their late teens and early twenties. In fact, I kind of worry about people who haven’t done anything dumb in their lives. I’m convinced they’re time bombs that can explode at any moment.

So it was probably bad news to get me as an interviewer. But at least the committee could rely on my judgment when I recommended admission.

As for me, every program I’ve been to so far has asked me about my undergraduate transcript. I tried the Jedi mind trick at Baylor, to no avail:

PD: Hmmm, undergraduate transcripts…
Me: Oh, you don’t want to look at those.
PD: Yes I do. What happened here?
Me: {mentally cursing SFMatch} I wasn’t focused on school.
PD: {circling Fs and noting my GPA across time} Apparently not.
Me: {launching into my spiel} Well, I wasn’t planning on going to med school at the time. And there are two important things that transcript says about me…number 1, I finish what I start, despite all obstacles–even the ones I create for myself. And number 2, I’m not going to wake up sometime in the middle of residency and feel like I wasted my youth inside a hospital. And you’ll see from my med school transcript that it clearly wasn’t any kind of indicator as to what sort of student I would be.
PD: {changing the subject} So are you saying I’m going to wake up someday and feel like I wasted my youth? (smiling)
Me: (smiling) No, I’m just saying I’ve seen it happen…

So I have no idea what sort of impression I made. But it sucks to have to defend my undergraduate transcript, still, after 3 years of med school. Fortunately this time I have an answer, and also some evidence that it’s not representative of who I am now.

It was hard to come up with an answer to that question, though. But finally I realized that excuses aren’t necessary–all I really need to do is establish what I’ve learned from it and how it makes me a better applicant, and that I’m not like that anymore. What a beautiful moment it was when that albatross slipped from around my neck.

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