Stanford

At this point in my undergraduate education I've been to a lot of premedical conferences. The ones that I've been to have addressed recurrent themes that have been instilled deep down in my brain already (admissions, MCAT prep, study strategies, research opportunities, etc.) alongside current healthcare issues (minorities in medical school, insurance, underrepresented/underserved communities, etc.). This does not exclude the one that I just got back from- Stanford School of Medicine SUMMA (Stanford University Minority Medical Alliance)- but I consider this latest conference to be the most twisted and unique experience I've had so far.

How unique was it? It wasn't necessarily different because it was Stanford SUMMA. It's my response to the things that happened there that made it stand out.

Background info: My physical state was, as usual, at its worst. The week leading to that conference morning was an equation for imminent disaster: Work friday and saturday nights (jacked-up circadian rhythm)+ in school the following monday to thursday from around 7:45am to 6-7ish at night+ homeworks+ studying + Hooters wednesday+ drunk wednesday night + hung over thursday morning+ class friday til 2+ errands + drive to San Jose via the 405 to the 101 under baaaaaad weather conditions and traffic from 7pm to 2am= chesus crust am I gonna make it through the day?

My buddy Tyson and I sneaked out after registering early in the morning to buy dress shoes (He left his shoes in LA. 6.5 hours driving back to SoCal is not a good idea). The weird part- I didn't feel bad sneaking out and missing out on the really great keynote speech in the morning. I don't know why. Normally I'd be disappointed. To this moment, I thought driving around Palo Alto and waiting at a Burger King in Mountain View 2 hours before Ross opened seemed more exciting than sitting inside the ever-packed and stuffy Packard Hall at Stanford.

By lunch I was a zombie already. We decided to sneak out and walk around campus and get intravenous coffee through a central line- femoral site- at the Tressider Student Union. We walked around the magnificent Memorial Church. I stopped in front of the intricately designed vestibule and just stood there in awe. "I'm gonna get married here at this church...Oh shit. It's almost 2pm- time to get back to the Alway Building for more sessions".

None of the sessions that I went to seemed to strike me. It's like listening to your old recorded lectures. I heard the same things. Not that they weren't useful anymore- I thought it was all mere reinforcement. Which is actually good. I thought I was gonna be like this throughout the entire conference. I hated it. I just wanted to sleep in my car until the raffle at the end of the event. It was a good thing Tyson pulled me to the lecture hall for the closing talks. Another keynote speaker. If not for him, I wouldn't have heard Dr. Ian Tong, MD's story on how an aimless Cal Berkeley freshman with a 1.9 GPA turned into a U of Chicago Pritzker School of Medicine success story. I don't want to disclose details because I am lazy right now. But yeah, that was indeed the best part of the day. I'm glad I stayed for that talk.

Done with Stanford. Time to go visit Carlisle at UC Berkeley.

What was really going on in my mind the entire time besides the keen longing for a shut-eye? I felt like I have infiltrated a brilliant society of future doctors, medical students, and Stanford elites. I felt like an outcast. Do I really have what it takes to compete with all these bastards and get into medical school? And in the event that admissions people make that horrible mistake of sending me an acceptance letter, am I going to make it? I honestly feel like I'm lacking something important. I couldn't figure out what. I don't know if med schools would be comfortable enough to take me, a fraud, into their class.

Shit I don't know. I thought this day was supposed to empower me, or at least to hype me up. Turns out this conference felt like a "put in my place" day.