“20 years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”  

Mark Twain

    I found out on Match Day that I would be doing my General Surgery residency in Connecticut, at a city hospital affiliated with a big university.  Following medical school, the newly graduated doctors go through a residency program that can last anywhere from three to seven or eight years, depending on the specialty.  Medical students enter residency training through a process known as “The Match.”  

     For The Match, medical students send out applications to many different residency programs.  They consider all the programs who show an interest in them and narrow their list down to ten or fifteen places.  Next comes a whirlwind series of interviews and site visits.  Medical students rank the hospitals where they would like to do their residency, and hospitals rank the students they would like to have in their programs.  Everything is thrown into a computer, and a “Match List” is generated.  On Match Day, all the senior medical students across the country gather and envelopes are handed out, with the fate of their future sealed inside.  It is a terrible day of uncertainty, anticipation, sometimes celebration, and sometimes disappointment. 

    Most medical students choose their area of specialization early on and then take specific steps to reach that goal. During the third and fourth years of medical school, they participate in clinical rotations designed to give them experience in their chosen field, connect with professionals, and build relationships that can improve their chances of securing a residency in that specialty.  I had decided rather late that surgery was the place for me.

     In my third year of medical school, I did my student core rotation on General Surgery.  The students spend two months working closely with the residents in the surgery program, doing rounds, going to the operating room, being on call at night with them for emergencies.  I thought this rotation would be tough and tedious, but I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it.  The field intrigued me, and I admired how confident and knowledgeable the surgery residents were.  The general surgery team was always called whenever others were unsure and could not figure out exactly what to do next.  It seemed to me that the surgery team always figured it out, even if it wasn’t a general surgery problem.  I was very drawn to this aspect of surgery, being capable of being the hero, always saving the day in critical moments of chaos.  Throughout my career, I have come to recognize this is both the joy and the curse of being the surgeon.  

     Early in medical school, the thought of entering a surgery residency program had seemed daunting, something too overwhelming to consider trying.  A surgery residency is several years longer and often more demanding than other residencies.  The work hours were longer, the tasks physically grueling, the attendings were infamous for being condescending and cruel, demanding perfection at every turn.  My growing interest in surgery made me determined to tackle that challenge.  I wasn’t sure if I could do it.  I didn’t know if I would even be accepted into a program, if I was good enough to start the process.  Part of me thought how nice it would be to get into a three year program, like pediatrics or internal medicine, become an attending, and move on with my life.  But as I considered my options, I knew I had to be happy with my choice in five years, and ten years, and twenty years, with no regrets.  If I chose an easier path now, would I regret it as I watched my surgical colleagues don their scrubs and head through the OR doors, always remaining on the outside?  Becoming a surgeon became my dream.  I knew that achieving one’s dream requires hard work and perseverance.  But most importantly, it requires that one take that first step, no matter how long or daunting the whole voyage may seem.

     Many people set aside their dreams until they gradually fade away.  Maybe circumstances never allow someone to take the first step on the journey.  Maybe different opportunities present themselves and we get sidetracked and lose sight of our end goal.   I wanted to be someone who would love what I was doing, who would look forward to going to work and feel like I was doing exactly what I was meant to be doing.  I wanted to spend my life content and fulfilled, not regretful that I had not tried.  I wanted to reach my dream.  I understood the importance of setting goals and then going forward with the steps necessary to achieve that goal.  Successfully completing my intern year was a goal that at times I just didn’t know if I would reach.  Through sheer perseverance I got there, and I will always be glad that I took that first step and remained committed to achieving that dream. 

      Despite my uncertainty, I went through the application process for a general surgery residency position.  I didn’t have good letters of recommendation from the right people, and I certainly wasn’t in the top ten percent of the class academically, but I successfully matched with a program. 

     My first reaction when I opened my little envelope was complete, overwhelming disappointment.  I had matched at one of the programs ranked lowest on my list.  After interviewing at more than a dozen places, I couldn’t remember much about this hospital as all the programs had blended together in my mind.  I was devastated that I had not matched with a program higher on my rank list.  I spent that evening wallowing in self pity, desperately trying to scrape up any information I could find about this program that would consume the next six years of my life.

     My husband and I packed everything we owned, which wasn’t much, into a U-Haul, and headed to Waterbury, Connecticut.  We had met when I was a junior in college, and he was a grad student.  We both went to the Ohio State University and were from Ohio, but had to travel to the other side of the world to actually meet.  Jed was working on his master’s degree in history.  I signed up for a study abroad program in Greece, led by the same professor who was Jed’s thesis advisor.  He came with the group to continue his work, and we studied classics, history and art while visiting archeologic sites throughout Greece.  We all lived together in a rooming house in Ancient Corinth run by an old Greek couple, and we spent most evenings at the taverna in the square, laughing and taking in the Greek culture.  We continued to date through college and got married during my second year of medical school.  He finished his master’s degree, and had been working to support us so I could finish medical school.  We were both looking forward to a change, a new adventure. 

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