While in Chicago, I hung out with my goddaughter/godsister practically 24/7. My godbrother Diego, while he was home the majority of the time, I only saw on my first and last days there (well, there were some brief moments where we'd bump into each other in the kitchen, but our exchange would usually be this: Diego: Eaten a peach yet? Me: No. Diego: Good. Know what I found in mine (X) days ago? A MAGGOT! Me: Nice).
Diego would sleep until about three in the afternoon. For the most part, I wouldn't be home by three... there'd be some sunlight to take advantage of. When I'd come home, he'd be out playing golf with his friends (such typical, rich suburb kids) or out drinking with the same friends (a more normal pass-time for 22 year olds, I'd say).
When I finally had my turn to sit down and chat with him, I realized he was... well, depressed.
He graduated in May with a Biology degree... and he too took the MCAT... and he applied to various Medical Schools.
Goes to show how much I knew about him... last time I checked, he was majoring in Chemistry and looking into pharmacy school.
Anyway, I guess he was rejected by all of them.
Initially, he didn't tell me all that. He just told me he was "taking a semester off."
It wasn't until I mentioned one of my friends, currently in her second year of medical school at UCSF, that he spoke up.
Diego: How old is she?
Me: 28.
Diego: SEE, MOM! SEE! Her friend is TWENTY-EIGHT, and barely on her second year of medical school!
Me: Yeah, she tried for years to get into school. She took her MCAT about three times. I remember I scored higher on my first time than she did on her first or second time.
Diego: SEE, MOM! SEE! I HAVE LOTS OF TIME!
What the fuck? What's with the commotion?
Diego: What did she do to get in? Like, lots of volunteer work, I imagine.
Me: Yeah. She volunteered in hospitals a lot... and did a lot of research work for one of her coolest professors. Upped her MCAT score on her third try. She just kept trying.
And that's where he came clean about the med school rejections. He doesn't admit it, but he's pretty fucking depressed.
While I wasn't devastated about not going to med school, since it was a decision I took WAY before even taking the damn MCAT, it was still a VERY difficult decision. It DID depress me. I've never been married, much less divorced, but I imagine the feeling is quite similar. Spend your entire fucking life prepping for medical school, taking class after class, killing it--as well as killing YOURSELF... and then, once it's go-time... you come to realize you never loved that subject from the get go. It's just something you could never commit to... the love isn't there.
However, with him... he seems pretty tore up about it... since his pops is a physician. I'm sure he has it much more difficult than I do. Constantly getting nagged about not getting into the science field. Who can blame him for wanting to sleep his life away? I was doing that up until a few months ago (and I still have days like that).
It upset me to see him so sad. I tried cheering him up... almost forcing him to join us at Six Flags... but after he raised his voice at me, I decided not to push the subject. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped.
I just tried giving him advice. I told him not to wait too long... and not to sleep until two in the fucking afternoon. Find something you love, and stick to it. Fuck what anyone will say about you... or what they think of your choice. And if you're still stuck on going to med school... well, try, try again.
Then I sided with him when telling his dad how difficult finding a science-related job really is... though I don't know how hard the job market in Chicago might be... but I'm sure it's not as difficult as down here in Nevada. But still... I'll say the sky's green in order to make someone smile, if I have to... because I wish someone would try that hard to get a smile out of me.
Diego would sleep until about three in the afternoon. For the most part, I wouldn't be home by three... there'd be some sunlight to take advantage of. When I'd come home, he'd be out playing golf with his friends (such typical, rich suburb kids) or out drinking with the same friends (a more normal pass-time for 22 year olds, I'd say).
When I finally had my turn to sit down and chat with him, I realized he was... well, depressed.
He graduated in May with a Biology degree... and he too took the MCAT... and he applied to various Medical Schools.
Goes to show how much I knew about him... last time I checked, he was majoring in Chemistry and looking into pharmacy school.
Anyway, I guess he was rejected by all of them.
Initially, he didn't tell me all that. He just told me he was "taking a semester off."
It wasn't until I mentioned one of my friends, currently in her second year of medical school at UCSF, that he spoke up.
Diego: How old is she?
Me: 28.
Diego: SEE, MOM! SEE! Her friend is TWENTY-EIGHT, and barely on her second year of medical school!
Me: Yeah, she tried for years to get into school. She took her MCAT about three times. I remember I scored higher on my first time than she did on her first or second time.
Diego: SEE, MOM! SEE! I HAVE LOTS OF TIME!
What the fuck? What's with the commotion?
Diego: What did she do to get in? Like, lots of volunteer work, I imagine.
Me: Yeah. She volunteered in hospitals a lot... and did a lot of research work for one of her coolest professors. Upped her MCAT score on her third try. She just kept trying.
And that's where he came clean about the med school rejections. He doesn't admit it, but he's pretty fucking depressed.
While I wasn't devastated about not going to med school, since it was a decision I took WAY before even taking the damn MCAT, it was still a VERY difficult decision. It DID depress me. I've never been married, much less divorced, but I imagine the feeling is quite similar. Spend your entire fucking life prepping for medical school, taking class after class, killing it--as well as killing YOURSELF... and then, once it's go-time... you come to realize you never loved that subject from the get go. It's just something you could never commit to... the love isn't there.
However, with him... he seems pretty tore up about it... since his pops is a physician. I'm sure he has it much more difficult than I do. Constantly getting nagged about not getting into the science field. Who can blame him for wanting to sleep his life away? I was doing that up until a few months ago (and I still have days like that).
It upset me to see him so sad. I tried cheering him up... almost forcing him to join us at Six Flags... but after he raised his voice at me, I decided not to push the subject. You can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped.
I just tried giving him advice. I told him not to wait too long... and not to sleep until two in the fucking afternoon. Find something you love, and stick to it. Fuck what anyone will say about you... or what they think of your choice. And if you're still stuck on going to med school... well, try, try again.
Then I sided with him when telling his dad how difficult finding a science-related job really is... though I don't know how hard the job market in Chicago might be... but I'm sure it's not as difficult as down here in Nevada. But still... I'll say the sky's green in order to make someone smile, if I have to... because I wish someone would try that hard to get a smile out of me.
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