There comes a time in every potentially US bound, USMLE-sufferer's life when one starts believing in the stories. There goes a tale of a mythical road, the Interview trail. Fair warning, O naive soul. The Trail is a long and arduous journey. Do not glance unto the treasure at the end, 'cos it is a thing of terrible beauty. It will entrap your soul and lead you to commit heinous deeds. The path is narrow, and many will fall along the way....I think it's better I stop before I compare my "epic 3 month journey across the United States" ,as I've told everyone who cared to listen these past few months, to the wanderings of Odysseus. Also, since I don't call Ithaca home and have no plans of visiting in the near future, I guess that'll end the comparison.
The thing that gets to most people is the planning. I'd say I am one of the fortunate ones who've had the chance to geographically plan their interviews - (I mean, I'd love a situation where I got a dozen more calls to interview and had to exhaust myself all over again) - nonetheless, 10 places to visit over 8 states isn't easy. When you have to add hotels, and train bookings and connecting flights - not to mention food, and laundry and searching for a "base" to stay - it can knock you out before you start. And, no matter how many times your Dad tells you to forget about the costs, you can't help but keep adding it up.
You always remember your first. Everyone's scared before their first interview. I mean, the online forums, the endless tips, the First-Aid books can only help you so much. You're trying to show how "cool" with things you are the night before - inside you're shitting bricks. For all my pre-interview research, I barely slept the night of my first interview. It's not that I'm short of confidence or don't know my stuff, it's just the unpredictability of it. For all the guys online telling you it's ok and it'll pass off without a hitch, there's always someone who had a bad experience. Someone who's going to ruin it for you - and pile on the doubt. I'm not sure how much Vineet and co. noticed it in Philly, but the shivering that morning wasn't all the chill outside (Actually, it was - considering that I didn't wear a jacket over my suit for fear of crumpling it). Once the first one's done - you heave a sigh of relief and move on. A sigh is all you give yourself - 'cos there's hardly time before the next one.
After a couple, you start to notice yourself getting into a routine. It's the same shtick. Mindlessly surf the program webpage the night before - looking at things to possibly say the next day that'll make you look smart - even though you know and the interviewers do too, that a couple of hundred people before you have done the same, and a few more will after you go. Get up early - (I got people from India call me to make sure I'd woken up - that's how scared I was I'd oversleep) - shave, gobble down some food, rush to the cab/shuttle, make the usual small talk with your fellow interviewees, and "face the music'. After a while, it feels that the interviews start mixing into each other. An introduction here, a morning report there, a tour of the hospital, the same questions that you ask the residents - "Are you happy here?" "What don't you like about the program?" "Is the area safe?". Then, the personal interviews. The questions seem to merge there too. There's only so many times, you feel, that you'd reply to "Tell me something about yourself" without putting in "I'm a sex-starved single man who's desperate to use the US doctor status to score chicks". But, you keep a straight face. You make the small talk. 'Cos you know despite the "boredom" that now comes through as waves, you've put in 2 years or more of your life into building your own "USMLE project" and you're not letting it go.
The thing that's a killer. Loneliness. Yeah, the travel hurts - I mean (and here's my 6 millionth travel miles plug) I've covered close to 5000 miles over the past two months, and I'm way off the top. But, the feeling that you're in this alone - is really hard to shake off. Whether it's staring into the darkness on a slow moving bus in the snow, or it's "celebrating your birthday in Augusta - smiling to the cameras - and posting statuses that you keep checking every couple of minutes - as if 1 more person liking it on Facebook will make you feel like that much closer to home. You feel it at the airports - waiting for a connecting flight. You feel it if you argue with people you love - and feel like you've overstayed your welcome. And you feel it most, when you're sick, and all you want to do is have your mother "make it all better".
But, you know what, it gets better. (No shit, Sherlock - you'll say). Honestly, this is a lot for me to say. I mean, I'm as cynical as they come, a fact to which a lot of the people I know will attest to. But, if there's something I take away from this "journey" of mine, it's going to be positive. And if I say these 3 months have made me less of a cynic, and more of a believer in people, I won't be kidding. (At long as the Match results back me up).
Because this interview trip is all about the people. (Yeah, good and bad, but I'll take the good for now).
It's about your fellow interviewees - the "we're all in this together" shtick. Yeah, we're competing with each other for those prized spots, and yeah, we're secretly hoping the other one loses out - but over all the small talk and the put-on acts, you meet a lot of awesome people, who have the same problems. So you're grateful for the little talks - the ones at the railway station/airport/bus stops, you're grateful for the stories - the one with the nasty interviewer (because you're glad it's not you), the one with hospital with the white flags to ward off gangs, the one with the newly discovered coffee-shop, or the ones where you realize you have so much in common (Like, Oh My God!!).
It's about the friends who go out of their way to make you feel good - like a birthday party for you when they've got finals the next week - where the cake ends up tasting like the best cake in history; or the ones who feel guilty when they've had to work when you were there because they couldn't show you around (when you were thankful just to crash there for a few days). It's about the people who call you up to make sure you're better, and offer to get you meds - forgetting you're 500 miles away. It's about old acquaintances renewed - it's about new friends made. It's about letting go - running through Central Park, or dancing like no one's watching New Year's Eve. It's about discovering things - whether it's the best waffles in town, or the joys of listening to "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" over a glass of red wine.
And so it ends. Three months done, you're back home - only to start losing the rest of your hair as you wait for the ides of March. March madness or whatever you may call it - Match Day. Yes, I'm going to end this by waxing eloquent on how the Interview trail changed my life because it did. (For all the people who'll say they wouldn't change a thing, they're really wishing it was a lot easier). I still have a couple of thousand miles to go, and an exam along the way, but come the 2nd of February, I'll know I've survived. So, to end this, I'll either quote Kipling and "If" or Sinatra and "New York, New York". Or better - Ozzie "All Aboard. Ha Ha Ha"
