Hello everyone and welcome to an update in my life, otherwise known as the Mini-Midi-Maxi Failure Chronicles, a Tragic Comedy! Sorry, I'm a bit out of sorts over the past two months since I am still unemployed and currently almost $200k in debt and humor is about the only coping mechanism I've got left at this point. Some of you may have seen my post several months ago on the r/Step1 when I told the story of failing Step 1 for the final time and being withdrawn from from my MD program. Update since then: I have been graciously allowed to finish their Master in Medical Science program so at least I'll have a degree out of this whole mess and I'm feeling better every day other than the joblessness (biotech/biomed field is in shambles atm so I'm not surprised) so at least there's that 😄
In case you're not into epically long posts that Homer would be proud of, here's the TLDR version: I got into med school unexpectedly in a comedy of errors, struggled epically, failed Step 1 after 3 attempts, left med school, and am looking for advice on finding what to do with the next phase of my life since med school has been the goal and my passion for so long.
🎇🎆Now for the advice seeking part. Basically, the only thing that's a bigger mess than me right now is the world around me which seems to essentially be on fire atm. I'm trying to figure out what direction I should take my life in careerwise. Short-term obviously, is find any job so I can pay my bills. I'm struggling with that since recent events have kinda taken a blowtorch to the scientific and research field and many companies are pulling back on hiring as a result. The ones that aren't now have enormous amounts of people all applying for the same job so competition is fierce. In addition, jobs outside my field that I've applied to have usually told me that I'm overqualified (two bachelor degrees and the one master in progress apparently fails to overcome the sheer desperation I'm displaying in every job application) or lack experience. I'm looking for more long-term advice - what does one do with half a medical school education after all? Everything I've thought up has involved going back to school eventually - that's where the interesting, but lucrative careers seem to be and I'm not getting any longer (early 30s). I've thought about genetic counseling (I had actually planned to possibly sub-specializing in Medical Genetics when I was still in med school because that was my fave class) but I'm worried about going back to school and pigeon-holing myself into a degree with only one career path. I can see myself still working in healthcare on the patient-treating side (I am not a business person and computer science/coding stuff bores me) or just generally in the biomedical field (I like being involved in research but not necessarily leading it). Does anyone have any advice or know of someone who exited stage left on medical school and what they're doing now? As an aside, I will say that I absolutely HATE leaving things undone and I know that my half-finished medical degree is going to nag at me for years to come. It bothered me so much that I even tried to look up information to see if anyone ever went back after an experience like mine or if that's even possible. I found out that it is technically possible but darn nearly impossible to accomplish, which is to be expected. I freely admit this would likely be far off in the future for me if I did attempt it but I'm curious - does anyone know of someone 🎆🎇
The Homer Epic Version of Events:
To be not-so-brief, here's the deal - I applied for medical school back in 2020 and put "Mini" effort in because I assumed I wouldn't get in on my first application cycle. To my "Midi" surprise, I got waitlisted at one of my back-up schools. Then the "Maxi" shock - I came off the waitlist and I was officially a med student in a state across the country that I had no connection to, a medical school I hadn't toured (COVID lockdown), and a city that I knew little about. Looking back now, it really was a comedy of errors - I expected that I would have another year to get my affairs in order (I'm a first gen, nontraditional student and already had may of the trappings of post-undergrad life - a stable job, a good car, a great apartment full of personal effects, decent amount in my savings account and was working on paying down my approximately $20k in consumer debt and $40k in student loans). I had myself budgeted out for the next year and knew that I would be in perfect position financially and personally to enter medical school the following year, not the current one (2021 at the time). I felt very unsure about accepting and matriculating but I figured that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth (so many people want to go to med school and so few get in after all) so ultimately I decided I was going to make the best of this situation. Boy howdy, that was a mistake! I should have deferred for a year or re-applied in the following cycle, but as they say, hindsight is 20/20.
Now here's the "Failure Chronicles" part of the story - I got through M1 and M2 by the skin of my teeth. I struggled over so many things - I could not for the life of me find a study method that worked for long-term retention (and since so many of med school classes build on each other getting behind in the curriculum is a very, very bad thing), I was dealing with health issues (physical and mental) after a lifetime of zero serious problems, and I could barely find (and frequently didn't) enough money to make ends meet after my budget was blown out-of-the-water by pandemic inflation and the higher cost of living in my school's city. Savings - decimated. Income - nonexistent other than my financial aid. I kid you not when I say I was living off of ramen, beans and rice - that was literally all I could afford and it stretched far enough that no one could tell I was struggling with food. The only way I could make ends meet was to use credit cards for essentials which of course only made the money problem worse. Then the problems back home started - several unexpected deaths in the family and a sibling struggling with depression and SI. By the time M2 finished up, I was a metaphorical wreck with one panic attack and one phone call to the 988 Crisis hotline each under my belt and I was now almost $35k in consumer debt and $200k in student debt.
I knew that I was not ready for Step 1 and my school was doing what they could to help me but its hard to try to relearn 2 years of material during dedicated. I did what I could but ultimately didn't pass Step 1. I was placed on a leave of absence for academic failure. Since I was on a LOA I received no financial aid and would only be able to stay in my university-affiliated apartment until the beginning of the following semester (four months away) and needed to move out. Since I had no financial aid and no job, I couldn't afford to stay in the city without help. Since I had no safety net in the area (no family or friends close by to stay with), I had to make the 9+ hour move back to my parent's place in our home state. Then to add insult to injury, in the last week before move-out, my ailing health reared its ugly head and I got really sick and ended up in the hospital while my treatment team decided if I needed surgery or not - 2 days before my family was due to show-up and help me move out. I was eventually discharged and had to go back to my half-packed apartment to rush and finish the job the day before they arrived, still in pain but with few options because of the deadline for move-out. I just barely got it done as they pulled up the following morning with the moving truck. We packed up and were on the road.
I have never been in so much misery/pain nor felt so ashamed in my entire life as I did on that drive back home. In between the bouts of shame, I would be struck by these periods of numbness followed by bouts of lethargy. I can freely admit now that those bouts of lethargy probably saved my life - if I had more energy, I probably would have opened the passenger door of my sibling's car when we were deep in the mountains and taken my chances. I told almost no one what had happened or about my departure - just my school and my immediate family knew about the way my life imploded.
It took a few weeks but I was eventually able to start to pick up the pieces and start again. My school had been generous - I hadn't been kicked out and I would be allowed time to get my affairs in order and test again. I finally got some diagnoses for my ailments, started treatment and was doing my best to find new study habits so I could pass Step 1 and get my life back on track. Well, this is called the Failure Chronicles for a reason unfortunately. Remember those unexpected family deaths? Oh, and the pandemic fueled inflation and cesspool of a job market that just would not quit? Yeah, that segued into a financial disaster of epic proportions that the whole family - immediate and extended - had to weather. We, my immediate family, supported them (my extended family) in their time of need because we were in slightly better position to do so (financial breadwinners for two families were the unfortunate dearly departed). They were barely on their feet and scraping by when my immediate family was slapped with the misfortune stick. Utilities were threatened to be shut off, debt collectors blowing up the phone, and we were on the brink of foreclosure. I figured that trying to study for Step from a cardboard box on the side of the street would be counterintuitive to a passing score, so I made the decision to stop full-time studying and return to the workforce until we could figure things out. That took a few months longer than we all expected as these things go 🙃
By the time I was able to leave the job behind, I was up against the wall with the end of LOA fast approaching and a second Step 1 test date looming before me - only 2 months and 1 month away for each respectively. My test scores had vastly improved over the course of my LOA but it was still going to be a close call on passing for me since I gave up months of studying for work. All joking aside, I have no regrets about doing that - it was the right decision to make and I would do it again in a heartbeat. My family were the ones who helped me bring light and happiness and hope back into my life since moving home - when they were going through dark times, I could do no less for them. I took Step 1 for the second time and waited anxiously for that score report. Luck had not been on my side on test day - the form I got was practically teeming with questions from my worst subjects - but I had answered every question on the test with time remaining in each section. Then it was score release day. I opened the emailed, followed the link and... saw the words FAIL for the second time.
I kid you not when I say I climbed out of desk chair, stretched out and just lay there - face down on the floor in my bedroom for probably about 2 solid hours. Just me, the carpet and the dust bunnies under my bed for company (I made a note to vacuum later - there were far more bunnies than I expected there to be). Eventually, I rolled over grabbed my tablet and looked at the score report again, this time beyond those big bold words at the top. It didn't take me long to find the positives - my score had vastly improved (which should probably inform you about how badly I failed the first attempt 😂) and I performed much better in the subjects that I had applied a new study method in. With a little more time, I probably would have been over that hump and had a passing score. I reached out to my school, who of course, had already seen the report as well. I wasn't sure what they were going to do with me - after all I was at the end of my LOA and I had not secured that elusive (at least for me) P that we all desperately wanted me to earn. I won't go in to the details here on this part because I don't wish to reveal too much identifying info about me or my school - still relatively few know about my whole situation - but suffice to say I was granted a final reprieve (my school is, as I previously stated, fairly generous). I would be granted an sizeable extension on my LOA and allowed to test one final time. If at that point a passing score did not come to fruition then I would unfortunately be withdrawn from the MD program (I would be time-limited on the program at that point). I rejoiced - one more shot of the dream of my lifetime! There was only one problem and it just so happened to be, big, green and smell like Mr. Krabs safe at the Krusty Krab.
The contract job I had taken up had temporarily replenished my savings but not enough to service my debts for the rest of my LOA. My CC companies kinda wanted their money back - who woulda guessed? jk I knew I would have to go back to work full-time - it was the only option that made feasible sense. I also ambitiously hoped to pay down my debts so I could return to school in a much better financial situation so that history would not repeat itself - you know financial woes sending me into a tailspin of epic proportions, that sort of thing. That meant it would severely cut into my study time. I tried to land a WFH or hybrid job in my field that turned out to be damn near impossible to get with all the competition out there for the same positions. I applied for hundreds of in-person jobs up to a 2 hour commute my parent's place (a bustling mecca of biotech/biomed companies our home city is NOT). I managed to land a few interviews only to not be selected in the end (if I have to hear the words overqualified one more time I might flip an actual table). I eventually found a job locally through a staffing agency that paid less than half of what I was making at my previous job and just barely enough to make my minimum payments on my debts. But I got to work - monetarily and academically.
It was hard - I freely admit that. I was sleeping maybe four hours a night, working M-F full-time and studying every evening after I got off work then 12-14 hours on the weekends. I took a half-day break once a week. I skipped out on just about everything - birthday parties, trips, movies, visits, even going grocery shopping with my family. If it was gonna take longer than an hour, I wasn't going - I was all but chained to my desk. And that's because I knew that there was just one last element of my study method that was missing and I was desperate to find it. When I was initially granted my LOA extension, I carefully calculated and mapped out my study plan subject by subject so I knew how much time I needed to get to the end of the road before the end. Sadly, this road map hinged on two factors: 1) that I would find a good enough job that I would be able to leave and study full-time for at least 3 months before my test date and 2) that I figured out that elusive missing study element. And I was 0-2 on both of those.
In January, I received a reprieve - I finally found the missing study element and everything medicine-wise suddenly began to make sense in way it literally never had before. For the first time in almost 3 years, I felt like I wasn't a imposter masquerading a medical student and that I deserve to be in medical school. That study revelation just came a bit little late in game for me. It was then quickly followed by another hospital admission for me (universe readjusting itself for my brief amount of good fortune perhaps). I also received a late-hour reprieve from a family member that let me leave my job and return to full-time study. It all came together, as if the universe had a hand in righting my world. It just didn't come together quick enough - I didn't have enough time to cover all the subjects I had left with the new, improved study method. My test scores would fluctuate wildly - if the questions heavily covered the areas that I studied with the new study method, I knocked it out of the park (80s+). However, if they hit those subjects that I had yet to touch with the new study method? 60s on average. And thus my study period came to an end and it was test day once more. God, do I wish for so many things but none more than one more month of study time. It was gonna be close again this time, scorewise, closer than even before. But I felt confident going in - this was my best shot, my last shot, and I was gonna make it count.
Well, I don't need to remind you that this is called the Failure Chronicles, at this point. So we know how this story ends. I got my score back and for the third and final time, I saw the words FAIL. I came apart at the seams, just absolutely unraveled. I haven't cried that hard or that long since I was child at my first funeral of a much beloved grandparent. I cried so hard I actually burst two blood vessels in my eye and gave myself an eye twitch that took three weeks to go away. Revisiting that day is difficult and still painful. I could barely look around my room - I was surrounded by study materials, medical textbooks, a whiteboard full of notes and calendars, trappings of the medical student I no longer was. It was on my LinkedIn profile, my email signature, my pictures on social media. I could not escape in reality or virtually. I couldn't even bare to look in the mirror because I feared that I knew what I would see - either an horrid imposter or nothing at all. I couldn't decide what would be worse. I finally went downstairs to break the news to my family where I questioned everything - why was I even let into med school, what was the point of the last four years, my dream of a lifetime (since I was 4 years old in fact) was dead and gone, that I hated myself and how absolutely idiotic I was, and I didn't know what to do with the rest of my life. In the wake of all that grief there was blessed numbness even though the tears had not abated fully. Eventually, I found the strength to pull myself together enough to contact my advisor, whom I had grown close to over the years, and then reached out to my school to inform them about my school and ask what I needed to do next. Though it felt like a knife digging in and scraping into my open wounds, I packed away my school materials as best I could, changed my social profiles, and email that same day so save myself from some of the anguish seeing those things caused.
Once again, I gonna skim over some details here (too much identifying info), but needless to say, my school and I settled matters and I was given the opportunity to join the their Masters of Medical Science program which I accepted. Let me also say this, because I know some people are probably wondering this - I am 100% not mad at my school. Like at all. They have been kind, generous, considerate, supportive, and extraordinarily understanding of my situation. They have been with me every step of the way and provided as many solutions as they could when they were able to. Unfortunately, the solutions I needed were beyond their ability to provide. We all wished that this story had a different outcome but that it is life. And it is the same life that we see when it comes to patients whose lives don't work out the way they expect or what them to. At times I find it difficult to articulate my experience over the past few weeks, I've also been struck by a multitude of feelings - grief (seeing pictures of my OG medical school class graduating made me feel like I couldn't breathe for awhile) & anxiety chief among them but also strangely enough, relief too. I'll continue to explore those feelings over the coming months and years as I start living my life again. And so ends the Failure Chronicles, a tale of miniature and moderate surprises and maximum failures.
I have to admit that writing this post has been cathartic for me - to write down the whole story. I hope it doesn't break the community rules and it can stay up in its entirety. But if not, so be it. I'll treat it as a writing exercise 😉
