It's about that time for that anxiety and fear to kick in. I'm familiar with this feeling, I've been here before. I'm halfway through my summer semester, gearing up for a hellish fall semester. Applications are mostly done, I simply need to take care of the biggest hurdle of all—MCAT. I've spoken with many people since then; the heartbreak of the first attempt hasn't completely dissipated. If I look at it objectively, I had a little over a week to come down from graduation before being thrust into this twelve-month program I had applied to several months before. Little did I expect to get accepted (it was the only premedical program in Texas, on top of only accepting applicants based on MCAT and not a GRE), and now I'm taking classes well into the night over MCAT. I should consider myself lucky for getting this second chance, and I do.

And yet that swelling tide known as MCAT is dragging me under...

I haven't located a proper physician yet for my preceptorship. I'm hoping my family doctor can fill in that spot, but until I have an agreement (and proper documents) I can't say that I have that segment complete. My mock interview is exactly one week from today. I've got to get myself psyched for that evaluation, who knows if it will get back to people in admissions. There's just a lot of things I need to be considering, I feel a little unprepared for it. I'm a graduate student now; that means I am responsible for more than just my grades. Something like this shouldn't shake my confidence. But it is. And I don't know how to respond to that.

Luckily for me, I've got a great support group. I would have never guessed that the GNs from undergrads would still kept to this day; I definitely think there's potential for lifelong friends there. I do enjoy hearing about Liz's and Connie's adventures after all. :) Ben, of course, has been the greatest pillar of support. He's been a very patient Physics tutor for me. I've cried quite a bit of times on his shoulder, and his comfort has been vital in getting me through some of my tougher days. I also found a good group of friends in the program itself. We study together and talk about preparing for medical school. It's exciting to think that we could be future colleagues together.

All of those things compromise a huge chunk of what can pull me out of this worry. And they do. It's just sometimes...I falter. I falter often, and sometimes for long periods of times. I count my situation as something like hitting rock bottom. There's only one place to go from there. I just wonder at my capability of getting over that big hurdle. Will I be able to call myself a physician at the end of it? Will I be able to make not only my parents proud (er?), but myself as well?

These questions swirl in my head, as surely as I tumble around the raging tide of preparing for medical school for the second time. I would like to think that the second time around, I'm a little more mature and a little more prepared for the feelings that arise from this experience. I want to rise to the occasion, despite knowing my tendency to miss my mark. I'm so tempted to say things will work out, but I fear feeling foolish.

I've prayed a lot about this dilemma, and I'm reading more and more in the Bible. Ben has said countless times that my skills in debate and discussion are superior to his; I want that trait to carry into religious matters. Our discussions have been great, and it's been especially helpful in my talks with Muslim and non-Catholic friends. I'm not only enriching my science, but my faith too. It's been a productive summer in more ways than one I suppose.

All this rambling! What is at the heart of it all? I'm worried about the MCAT. I'm worried about not getting in. I'm worried about how the resultant score will affect my performance during the school year, especially with TCOM looking at each class. It's all worries. I don't need to worry but here I am. I think writing it out has helped me a little. Until my next post, I'll be tackling more passages.