Successful Submission

“Have you submitted?”

This question has been buzzing in the air among the medically-inclined crowd since the clock rolled over to 12:01am on September 1st.  While I wish so much that this referred to submitting to an inclination towards regular exercise, or even submitting to the urge to eat loads of chocolate cake, what this is actually in reference to is the submission of ERAS—an online application for residency programs across the nation.

We submitted on Saturday.  We submitted so hard that it cost us like $10,000. 

Okay, not really... it actually only cost a fraction of that, but still.  Beaucoup bucks, guys.  We had to shell out just so these hot-shot programs will even consider looking at Dr. D’s application.  Honestly, his app is so pristine that they should probably be thanking and paying us.  I mean really.

Here’s the way residency applications work, as far as I can tell:

• You update your CV, complete with hobbies, and then realize that you can’t remember what your hobbies are because you’ve been in MED SCHOOL for the past three years.  So you ask your wife to remind you what your hobbies are, and she tries to slip “loving your wife” in as a hobby and you’re like “Lol, cute.  But not appropes.” 
• You write a personal statement, and agonize over each word and its synonyms, only stopping yourself when you realize there is no synonym for “the,” so you might as well be done with it.
• You chew off all of your fingernails as you wait for the rock-star docs who agreed to write your letters of rec to actually submit the letters, and pray about ten times a day that they (a) remember to do it, and (b) put the correct name on the letter. 
• You choose which residency programs to send your application to, and pay based on the number of places you send it.  Some people research every detail of the residency program and its surrounding areas, and selectively and systematically identify which programs they want to work for.  Others utilize their wife’s stink-face method (more on that later). 
• You click submit and wait for the interview offers to come.   And according to your loving wife, they will come. 

Prayers and crossed appendages (fingers, toes, whatever you got) welcome.  And for those of you who have submitted or are about to, congratulations!  We’re so close!

The Big Unknown

Guys.

GUYS.  We are 193 days away from residency match day.  That's like 6 months and some change.  Chump change, y'all.  This is happening whether we're ready or not.

I'd like to think that we're ready, but we're probably ready for some things more than others.  For instance, we are so ready to not have the Big Unknown (aka our mailing address for the next 5-ish years) hanging over our heads.  If I have ONE more person ask me where Dr. D is going to residency, one of two things will happen:

1. I will launch into a tirade about how nothing in this life is certain and there can be no way of really knowing where you'll be tomorrow---or even an hour from now---so we can't be expected to answer such a question and perhaps we should instead focus on living every moment to its fullest potential and maybe the real question should be what are YOU doing with YOUR life and shouldn't you be asking yourself why you haven't done something epically selfless like joining the Peace Corps or Teach For America and why haven't you solved the world's hunger problems yet?  ...What do you mean, I have "deflection issues"? 
2. I will revert back to a ten-year-old mentality and say something like, "Where is YOUR MOM going to residency?!  Huh?  Huhhhhh??  Can you tell me THAT?!"*

All of that is to say: we're ready to know what the next chapter is.  Otolaryngology is such a competitive specialty that we really can't afford to be too choosy about residency programs, so we might end up virtually anywhere (except a few select places, but more on that later).

What we may not be ready for, however, is everything the next chapter entails.  And what it will most certainly entail is this: long hours at the hospital for Dr. D, a new job for me, and working on getting a family started.

Yeeesh.

Anybody out there fairly confident that you know what this next year holds for you or your med student?  I'd love to hear some stories about certainty so I can live vicariously through you.

*I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Mom, but yes.  I have been known to use a "Your Mom" come-back every now and again.  This doesn't mean I love you any less.