For those of you doubting your abilities and chances in medical school, here is an inspring story from MomMD member Wendy "Will" Chamberlain. "I turned 40 last summer and started medical school this fall. I am a mother of 4, most of whom are grown up although I still have one child at home, my 9 year old daughter. I earned a BA in Humanities in 1982. I had wanted to go to medical school way back then but my husband was dead set against the idea, and so I decided to put it on hold temporarily. We divorced after seven years of marriage. Having to support my family, I ending up taking a job as a medical transcriptionist, liking its close proximity to medicine, and because it paid decently. I ended up working as a medical transcriptionist for 10 years. Later, I ended up working in a hospital pathology department and I asked to be allowed to watch an autopsy . . . it was during the autopsy I realized I had to go back to school and try to get accepted to medical school. The autopsy was so awe inspiring; while I watched the medical examiner open up the chest of this patient, I got a lump in my throat, goosebumps on my arms, and told myself, "I have to do that!" It took me two years from that moment before I could financially find a way to start taking the med school prereqs at my local community college -- I was 36 years old. While working in hospitals and medical clinics, I never told anyone how much I wanted to go to medical school. It was a dream too vulnerable to be held up to the criticism of others. Even when I started the prereqs, I rarely told anyone why I was doing it; I don't think I really believed myself that I would make it. My plan was one foot at a time, one semester at a time, the MCAT, the applications, the interviews; all of it went by with me never really being sure that I would get in. It wasn't until I got the MCAT back and did well enough on it that I started telling anyone my plans. And it wasn't until I had seven interview invitations that I started to believe I might get accepted. And I still knocked on wood every time I dared to talk about the possibility of getting accepted! I have changed a lot in these last four years. Somehow the process of dreaming a dream and not giving up has made my priorities very clear to me; and it has made me much less vulnerable to the opinions of others. Like many of you, I am sure, I had always worried that I was not doing enough for others, wasn't good enough, didn't do the right thing or enough things for my children, my family, my friends. Semester by semester, as my dream became more and more real, I too seemed to solidify. Saying no became part of taking care of myself, my family and my dream. At one time, I couldn't imagine that saying no could ever feel like a good thing. These days saying no (and saying yes sometimes) is self-validation -- I have a dream that is too precious to risk. Anyway, I did get accepted to medical school, and by more than one school. It IS really tough -- the workload has been a big adjustment. But mothers, more than anyone, I think, are good at adjusting -- we have already found that we can get used to anything! And it certainly has not been without sacrifice. My last serious relationship broke up because of my acceptance to medical school. In fact, I talked to my ex-boyfriend just a couple of days ago. During the conversation, he said, "If you would just give up this medical school thing, we could be together!" I worry that another relationship will be hard to come by -- all of my classmates at school are almost 20 years younger than me and I don't even really have time for a social life. On the other hand, my daughter is doing very well. We spend time together every day and this time is one of the high points of my day. And she is pretty understanding when I am a little cranky while studying for an exam. So we are managing. Will pursuing medicine destroy your marriage or your significant relationships? Maybe. But when you are 75, will you look back and wish that you had tried? This may sound cold, but my experience with men/relationships is that there are no guarantees, and divorce or death could be just around the corner. You don't have any control over what life will bring you. If that relationship that I sacrifice my dreams for breaks up, what am I going to be left with? Regrets of "if I had only . . ."? It is not right to put someone else in charge of your happiness; my staying out of medical school in order to preserve a relationship puts a responsibility on that relationship that it has no business bearing. I don't believe a loving relationship should force a woman to choose between her dreams and her relationship. What kind of love is that? I have been through a lot in my life. At one point, I lived in a homeless shelter with my children. I have been on welfare. These are all lessons I've learned the hard way. I guess I am writing this because for those of you who know what you MUST be, who have the calling to the medical profession . . . I don't want you to give up on yourselves. You are valuable and you are needed. And you are worthy. 'Tis true, though, that there is a time and a season for everything . . . I had tried to go back to school 15 years ago and it just wasn't the right time; I was newly divorced and had 3 children under 5 years of age. Then I tried to start taking classes again six years ago, and it just would not work out. My attempts at those times felt like I was hitting a brick wall. It just wasn't the right time. Four years ago, though, everything fell into place, and here I am. I so easily remember the feelings I had as a stay-at-home-mom of not being enough, of not doing enough, of feeling guilty about my desires to go to medical school, and the consequences that it may have on my family. I look back and want to shout at my younger self, "You were good enough all by yourself! Who made women the slaves of the family? Who made them the guilt-bearers, the ones responsible for the world's well-being?" Raising a family is a wonderful thing; but for those of you who have additional gifts to offer the world, please! Come out, fulfill your potential! The world needs you, your children need to see you living up to your human potential, and other women and girls need you as a role model. Women as a whole, I find, have a tendency towards self-deprecation. We apologize for ourselves. Even as I write, I want to apologize for my very lengthy posting, or take some of the strength out of my speech by making excuses for my perhaps over enthusiasm. But I have been apologizing for forty years. And I am trying to break the habit. Best wishes to all of you." Source
