To my close family and friends, I’m sorry I did not tell you. It was too hard to talk about. Here goes…
Poor test-taker. Below average. Fail. Remediate. Decelerate. Low pass. High C. Those were the words that plagued my medical school experience. I know what you’re thinking: plenty of students deal with the struggles I just named. I’m sure they do, but I dealt with them all. All at once. My situation was so severe. At every turn, after every inkling of success came a brand new hardship staring me blank in the face. Perhaps I would not have felt so strongly about my experience if I had a bit more of a traditional route to med school, but after everything I had already been through, I was just so tired. During my 2nd year, I wanted to quit. Not because of how hard it was (it’s med school. of course, it’s hard), but because of how it made me feel.
So how did I get to my breaking point? Well, let me take you back to my:
1st Year.
I was so incredibly excited to get into medical school. Years of blood, sweat, and tears finally led me to exactly where I knew I was supposed to be—in med school learning how to save lives! I was ecstatic about my first exam results! I’ll never forget it: 81%. “Take that, BU and everyone else who said I’d never become a physician!” Although I was pleased with my score, to me it still wasn’t good enough. I wanted to see A’s. I just knew I was capable. So I did what any sane person would do: I completely overhauled the study regimen that worked well for me during my Masters of Science program and tried to adopt some of the study practices of my classmates. Bad idea, Anya. And it showed. My grades began to slip below C level and I almost drowned. I soon realized I needed to go right back to the study regimen that actually worked for me, even if that meant I had to maintain a B average.
As soon as I returned to my original practices, I began to see high B’s on almost every exam, a vast improvement. However, I had already failed the Biochemistry miniboard before I had my a ha moment. A miniboard is an exam we took at the end of learning a subject matter. It projects how you will do on a particular subject on the medical licensing examination. I received my miniboard score during the Christmas break. I failed by one point. Yep, just one. Administrators told me I would have to retake the exam in May and that I needed to pass before moving on to 2nd Year. I was devastated. It was only year 1 and already I was failing a major exam. I knew I had come too far, though.
I regrouped and hit the ground running when I returned for spring semester. I made nothing lower than an 85% on any exam. I secured a summer internship to provide me with more research experience and a way to pay for my summer expenses. I had signed up for a mission trip to Haiti. I was also on my way to Chicago for a symposium for one scholarship and DC for another. My life was lit! My summer was lit! #Summer16 was my time to shine…or so I thought. The only thing standing between me and my vacay was that darn biochemistry miniboard. P.S. the summer after first year is the ONLY summer break you get in med school! It’s literally your last free summer until you retire from your medical career, which is why I jam packed mine with alllll the fun!
I failed it again. How? HOW? I had studied harder. I had studied smarter. This time, my score was actually 6 points lower. I could not believe it. I had a serious moment of hatred for biochemistry. It only comprised 5% of the STEP 1 licensing exam. It only comprised 0% of what I actually need to know for medical practice. I mean really, what patient will ever ask me to explain the pathway for glycolysis?! You know who cares about biochem? Biochemists who want their research funded. And so many physicians I encountered cosigned and confirmed each of my sentiments. So what did I do? What I always did. I cried. I got upset. Then I bucked up and got back in the game, but not before some more bad news.
A few days after receiving word of my last fail, I opened my inbox to see a message from an administrator. She said that I needed to quit my summer internship immediately and focus solely on the miniboard. I could not believe it. How would I pay my bills? How would I complete my project? I went to her and asked if anything could be done. She said no. She said I may lose my apartment. I may have my car repossessed, but as long as I become a physician, it would all be worth it. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. I was so very embarrassed to tell my research mentor; humiliated and standing there trying to explain my academic shortcomings in a way that did not make me out to be completely incompetent. She was very understanding and encouraged me to take the time I needed and return when I could. The SAPP committee (that’s the committee that watches your progress and reaches out to you when you struggle academically) set my retake date for June 17th. I had two weeks to either get it together or repeat an entire course—Organ Systems I—instead of going on to 2nd Year. Biochemistry was its own separate course, but the information extended slightly into Organ Systems I, so that’s the class I would have had to retake. Retaking Biochemistry would have at least allowed me to still start 2nd Year on time, but the policies in place took that option clear off the table. Makes total sense, right? Oh, and even once you pass a miniboard on the third try, you receive an automatic C/D in the course (that’s exactly how it appears on your transcript) and an automatic note to residency programs stating what the C/D means and how you had trouble with a particular miniboard. Good look, right? I digress.
During this time, fruit flies infested my apartment. They were everywhere. Until an exterminator informed me, I did not know you had to clean your garbage disposal with dishwashing liquid especially during the summer months. I felt as though the plague had literally hit my home.
I studied, I reviewed, I completed practice questions as if my life depended on it. The day of the exam, I walked into the room and found a seat in the back. I saw 8 of my classmates and every second, I prayed to be invisible. I prayed that no one would even recognize me. I was so embarrassed to be where I wa, but I was on a mission and that towered over everything. I received my score the next day and I KNOW it was only by the grace of God that I passed. I was Stunned! I was elated! I was delivered! And if you are a member of my church, this experience is what led me to choreograph and minister “Made a Way” by Travis Greene.
I finished off the summer by going to Haiti, returning to Atlanta, and completing my research project. My mentor worked with me to ensure I had an amazing poster and my project coordinator ensured I still received the full stipend amount! God really came through for me in every single way. I was officially a 2nd Year, the fruit flies were gone, and it was on and poppin!…until this happened:
2nd Year.
Transitioning from the 1st Year to the 2nd Year classroom was an accomplishment, an honor, and I was not about to take it lightly. Absolutely not. I had my study regimen in tow and I was ready for the professors to pile on the information, the labs, the hours, the grind. My first exam block (5-7 exams in one week) went well. I passed everything and I had certainly learned over the summer to be grateful for a pass and to refrain from trying to switch things up. However, I later discovered that switching things up—only slightly—would have made all the difference for my 2nd Year.
Our first two exam blocks only consisted of pathology, pathology lab, pharmacology, microbiology, and Fundamentals of Medicine. “Only,” right?! When we added on pathophysiology, I began to struggle. I had maintained my study regimen. I barely missed a class. I studied every night and on the weekends for hours just to ensure I covered all the material and did not neglect any of my courses. I began to see failing exam grades in pathology, pathology lab, pharmacology, and pathophys. Because I was so concerned about these courses, I even failed the Nutrition exam when we incorporated that class into the rotation. Thank God for 5 points extra credit for perfect attendance in the class! That 4 week course is pass/fail and they WILL make you sit out an entire year just to retake it!
I just could not put my finger on what I was doing wrong. In December, just before the break, an academic advisor scheduled an appointment with me to discuss my progress. She suggested I decelerate—take 2nd Year over the course of two years. I knew right off the bat that option was not for me. 1) Because God never told me to decelerate. That’s something I felt He would have absolutely made clear to me. 2) Because I had worked too hard and come too far to experience further delay. I was pushing through even if it did not feel good.
I continued to fail. Over and over again, I saw subpar examination scores. SAPP began to knock on the door of my inbox again. With each letter came a warning of all the awful things that would occur if I failed a course. I thank God that each course was a year long and that I had another semester to get it together. With each letter also came a message of encouragement from an administrator’s assistant. She was responsible for sending the letters. After each one, she would email me separately to let me know she saw me in the hallways and knew how hard I worked to keep a smile on my face and make things happen. I have her messages in my inbox to this day. She left the school after my 2nd Year, but I will appreciate her encouragement forever.
Right before final exams in December, I really prayed for my performance and my grades to improve. An academic advisor had set this month as one of my deadlines to determine whether or not I would decelerate. If you decelerate after a certain point in the year, you cannot get any of your tuition money back and you will get less financial aid for the next year. I had already made up my mind not to decelerate. I asked God over and over, even asking for His will to be done—which can be a pretty scary request as you just don’t know what He’ll decide. And over and over, He told me to keep going and that deceleration was not for me. How could I say that to a school based on science and full of scientists? Even the administrators who believed in God thought I was crazy and that I was taking “this faith thing” just a bit too far. What I really wanted in December was proof that God had my back and that my decision was valid. I had the substance, but I wanted the evidence, only forgetting that it may remain unseen – Hebrews 11:1.
And unseen it remained. The week before taking my final exams for the semester, I received an email from counseling services at my school. They said they wanted to discuss any hardship in my life that may be deterring me from performing well academically. I was so upset. The timing of the email just did not seem right. It was finals time and I needed to believe I could do it. Also, there was an assumption that something awful in my life was precluding me from performing. Nothing awful was happening. Just me not being able to pinpoint what I was doing wrong. The email made me feel even worse about my situation. I asked myself what was wrong with me. I really did not have a reason to be performing poorly and that email was just another reminder. I did not even respond.
Over Christmas break, I received my exam scores. I had failed almost everything. That evening my mom had invited me to a Christmas party. I could not even get out of the car. I just sat there, beat the steering wheel, and cried as I waited for her to come out of the party. She left way early so I could get home. All I could say was “I keep praying for God to show up and He just won’t do it.” Can you imagine? Praying and working so hard to get to a particular point in life only to struggle worse than you ever have? Only to quite possibly lose the very thing you worked for? Things were getting dark for me, but I held on to my belief that there was a way out.
When I returned to school for the spring semester, I soon received an email from a new professor. I saw the title of the email which surrounded my academic progress. I had no intention of reading the email because I wanted to focus on my ability to do this, not deceleration. But then I read the first line: “You are not in trouble.” Immediately, I was put at ease and my defenses were down. She wanted to help me figure out what was going wrong and how I could improve. During our first meeting, she heard me out. She let me cry. She was also real with me and explained the predicament I was in and how things did not look good. She asked me what I felt God was telling me to do. “Keep going.” Her response: “Well that’s what we are going to do.”
And that’s what we did. I met with her each week without fail. We reviewed practice questions and I began to see improvement in my scores. It was like coming up for fresh air. Someone believed in me and did not hang deceleration over my head. By April, my improvement was even better. I had discovered that especially for pathology and pathology lab, more practice exams were key. In the past, I had only completed 2 per exam block. I began pushing myself to complete 5-6 and I was really in business! That was it. Just that little change made all the difference. I wasn’t making A’s, but I wasn’t failing anymore either. I needed someone to show me a different component to add to my studies, not show me the door to deceleration. That’s what this professor did for me and for that, I am forever grateful.
Around this time, I dated a guy I really cared about. The year prior, I dated someone who was pretty inappropriate with a mutual friend during our relationship. He embarrassed the hell out of me because we all belonged to the same small group at church. I left the church I grew up in almost my entire life for approximately a year because I was just so uncomfortable and humiliated. These situations really hurt because I was already going through so much. I had trusted. I had opened up. I am sharing this part of my story because I know how difficult it can be to navigate romantic relationships during med school…with someone who is not in med school and does not fully understand. No. Grad school, law school, PhD programs, and any other kind of school do not compare. BUT through these experiences, I learned what it truly means to forgive and I am better for it. More in my future tell-all book, y’all! I’m kidding. (I’m not kidding!) Let’s move on…
I had made it all the way to May final exams with borderline scores in pathology and pathophysiology. Cue another letter from SAPP and another meeting invitation with an academic advisor. She told me exactly where I stood, all my stats, and everything that would happen to me if I did not pass. She laid out, in detail, all the scenarios. The good, the bad, and the absolute ugly. She asked once more with one of the most serious eye locks I had ever seen, “Are you sure you do not want to decelerate?” You can decelerate right up to the last exam block. I told her no. I was BOUT IT! And it was not the time to turn around. After all the information she had already given me, she looked me in my eyes and said, “Anya, I’ve never seen anyone in your predicament make it out of medical school successfully.” Allow me to stop right here. I will never forget these words and the fact that she chose to say them to me just one week before finals. She had already given me all the information. She had already played out all scenarios. That’s like me counseling a patient pregnant with a fetus who has osteogenesis imperfecta, giving her all the information, listening to her tell me she has decided to continue with the pregnancy anyway, and then a week before her due date telling her that I have never seen anyone with her baby’s ailments make it. Why? How does this help? The patient has already made her decision. My job is now to provide supportive measures until I can do no more. And if the worst scenario takes place, I have done my job to ensure her decision was informed. I have had a few students and administrators alike tell me her comment was completely ok. After much reflection, I determined her words did not hurt my feelings. Rather, it was the fact that an educator would make such a finite statement about me at a time when I really needed to believe in myself that troubled me so. I digress.
I passed my exams. I passed my courses. I even got a 92% on the final lab exam! I had stayed up many nights, studying, grinding it out so determined to accomplish this daunting task. I even passed pathophysiology. I am so grateful for (again) those 5 points extra credit! Can I get a witness?! I was done with 2nd Year…until I received an email about psychopathology—a course component built into Fundamentals of Medicine (FOM) as a precursor for Psychiatry.
I had already begun my intensive study period for the STEP1 exam. This exam is the hardest in one’s medical career and weighs heavily when it comes to determining which residency specialties you can apply to, which residency programs will even consider you, and whether or not you will match (have a job after med school). I was so pleased that I had banged out 2nd Year and that I could finally move on, but not without first experiencing what? That’s right. More bad news. The email stated I had failed the psychopath portion of the FOM and that I would have to remediate the entire course. I felt like I was experiencing the summer after 1st Year all over again. In psychopath, there were two tests. For the first test, the professor put a practice exam on Blackboard with pretty much all the answers to the real exam. There was only a handful of students who did not know about it. Guess who was in that handful! Yep! Me. I really counted on our GroupMe messaging app for pertinent info and the existence of that exam just never made it there. Just about everyone failed the second exam. You know those classes where you can be totally present, take all the notes in the world and still see things on the exam you’ve never seen in life? Yea, it was that kind of class. Also, did you know that exams can be graded based on the quality of each question asked? I was notified this professor’s exams had very low scores when it came to question quality, but he was built into the fabric of the school’s history. His exams were not about to change.
So there I was with two failed exam scores instead of the one that most of my classmates had. I was under the impression that a pass on the miniboard would mean a pass in the class because of the foolery surrounding the in-class exams. I was mistaken. Not only was I required to take another in-class exam and pass with a 75% (not the normal 70%, but 75%), but I was also required to write two essays for the FOM component of the course. I asked why I had to remediate that part when that was not the part I failed. “It’s policy.” I met with the psychopath professor and he emailed me a practice exam. I asked if I could also have the answers to study and ensure I was on the right path. He told me to complete the exam first and then he would give me the answers. Huge LOL!! “Why is this man playing with me?” All I could do was laugh. I submitted the practice exam a few days later, staying up to 2am and beyond ravaging all my study materials for answers and also studying for STEP1. A few hours later, he let me know I passed with an 81% and that no other examination was necessary!! I was good to go! ALL GOD. I was back to being solely focused on STEP1…right?
Nope! One of the FOM essays I had to write centered on professionalism and how students can maintain decorum while in medical school. I wrote about my experiences in medical school—financial aid leaving me off a list to receive funds and not telling me until I asked why my refund was so late, finance forgetting to bill me for a class in my MPH program and telling me I owed them $755 up front two months before graduation, finance writing me an emergency loan check that would not cash for 20 days, being told that no student in my predicament has made it out successfully—and how I had to maintain my composure under pressure. One week before my STEP1 exam, the FOM professors called me into a meeting to discuss the essay. Mind you, it was only 1.5 pages, but they did not like how it portrayed their colleagues. They said what I defined as professionalism was not professionalism and that I did not answer the question prompt. They told me write it again, pretty much infusing all their ideas on professionalism. “We are basically telling you what to write. This does not have to take long.” I cried. Right there in front of them, I let out one huge unprofessional cry. I thought I was at a school where student concerns were taken seriously; where care for students trumped policy. In that moment, I found out I was wrong. My grandmother really wanted one of us (my siblings and I) to attend this school. After seeing some things I really did not agree with in the MPH program, I decided to return anyway, hoping my experience would be different as an MD student. I felt I had been let down once more. I rewrote the essay with almost their exact verbiage, just as they had asked. This is what I was doing while I should have been focusing on STEP1—the exam these very professors had already projected I would fail. During the meeting, one of the professors said of my exam date, “Next week? Wow that’s really soon.” The other: “Students who don’t pass the exam are almost 100% likely to not match into a residency program.” I told them I was taking a leap of faith. One of them rolled her eyes.
The next day, I received an email to acknowledge receipt of my essay…their essay. The professor said I had passed the course with a final grade of a C. A C in FOM (supposed to be an easy class!)…that will look great on my residency apps. It mattered little. Just another ding in my confidence and on my transcript. I was back on track and still in the game. I was on to 3rd Year…but I soon found myself:
Losing My Religion.
I took my STEP1 exam at the end of June. The exam was extremely difficult, but I was confident in my performance. I had studied at least nine hours a day every day for five weeks straight. I had neglected family, friends, and activities. I was basically a recluse throughout my entire dedicated study period. On top of all that, I really felt like God had given me June as my date. I knew I had passed. Shortly after the exam, I began to enjoy my Psychiatry rotation. I LOVED seeing patients! Even more than that, I loved being out of the classroom all day. I had made it to my clinical years and it was the best feeling ever.
Four weeks after starting my first rotation, it was time for STEP1 exam scores to come back. I hadn’t thought much about it because I was so confident I had passed. Barely gave it a second thought. The results always come back on Wednesday. The tradition at my school is for the Assistant Dean to call each student in alphabetical order, tell the student he or she passed, and provide the exact score. If you don’t get a phone call, you can pretty much assume you failed. During our lunch break, a classmate told me he got a call from the school while he was in session with patients. He asked me if I, too, received a phone call. I had not. My last name came before his in the alphabet, so I began to panic. I looked at my phone all throughout lunch and even questioned the reception in the building. I mean we were in the woods and I had difficulty with reception before. Nothing. Not a phone call. Not a voicemail. And certainly not a text. Later on in the day, I saw many of my classmates congratulating each other, making statements like, “I think only those who knew they were really ready took the exam” and “I’m so glad I won’t be failing out of medical school.” Once again, my status was in limbo. There I was again with my academic record hanging in the balance and wishing I could just disappear. I kept my head down for the rest of the day and prayed no one asked me any direct questions about my exam and no one did.
I fled home and opened my computer as soon I as I could reach for it. When I saw my score, all I could do was stare in surprise, in defeat. I had put in so much time and effort. For what? My score was so low I could not believe it. My dad came home right after I saw my score. I was staying with my parents at the time because of their close proximity to my rotation site. I lost it. I just cried and cried. I could not understand why every little thing had to be such a struggle. I had prayed. I had believed. I had spoken life. I heard so many students question their abilities, question their possible outcomes. I had believed, but where was the fruit of my faith? My parents tried their best to console me while emails from the higher ups began to pour in. The Assistant Dean requesting a meeting and SAPP becoming acquainted with me once more.
I met with the Assistant Dean and she informed me I could complete my Psychiatry rotation, after which, I would need to begin preparing for my retake examination. I was devastated. More of the same. No progression. More disappointment. On top of that, she reminded me I would not be allowed to receive financial aid until I posted a passing score. That was the new rule since so many students in the year ahead of me had to make financial aid adjustments when they failed the exam. This information upset me just as much as the fact that I had to retake the exam. Until I passed the exam, I would not have my own funds. I would not be in control of when my bills got paid. I would have to depend on my parents for everything. Also, I had just started my fashion blog and I no longer had the money to fund it. As Dwight said to Sheree on The Real Housewives of Atlanta, “How you gonna have a (fashion blog) with no fashions??”
I began selling some of my clothes at Buffalo Exchange just so I could have extra cash. Again, completely counterintuitive to what a fashion blogger would do. Shout out to all the followers from the early days who liked every single pic on Instagram…even when I posted the same clothes and accessories, only rearranged in some way! I thank God that my mom had just gotten a new job (she had been out of work for a while) when I got my score. She and my dad were able to start paying all my bills, but things were tight. I had to miss a few bill payments. For others, I was a little late. Thankfully, many grace periods were extended to me and I took advantage of each and every one. Thank God for grace!
During the second half of my Psychiatry rotation, my team and I received word of a new adult patient who was admitted to our service. She was a young woman who had just been dismissed from medical school for failure to pass a board exam. I do not even want to explain what went through my mind at the time. Let’s move on. I never crossed paths with her even though she was on our service. I pray for her soul often.
I finished up my Psychiatry rotation with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Any time anyone mentioned STEP1, I just looked down, allowed my classmate to talk, or changed the subject. Two weeks later, I was back to the grind of studying for my retake exam. The Dean had recommended Doctors in Training, an online review program. I asked my parents for $750 to cover the cost. I had not thought about taxes though. I already felt bad about asking for any money as an almost 30 year old, so I did not want to go back and say I needed more. Before I even had a chance to worry, I came across a coupon which brought the fee down so I had just enough in my bank account to buy it! Creativity and couponing became my best friends during this time.
For the next two months, I studied as if my life depended on it. I guess it kinda did. I put in 10 hour days. I wrote out almost every word from video lectures in my workbook. I relearned. I reviewed. I even made 1500 flashcards (yes, 1500!) to help with my review of the material. I avoided as many events as I could because well…I was broke! There were two weddings I felt I could not miss and I showed up empty handed to them both. I blessed them later, but still. I was so very embarrassed. I did not even tell them why.
I planned to take my exam at the end of September. There was only one problem: I could not pass an NBME practice exam. No matter what I tried, I could not get a practice exam score above 182. At that time, the passing score was 192. I moved my date to the end of October. By the way, each exam sitting costs $600 plus an additional $5 each time you take it. There is also a fee of $50-$100+ each time you reschedule your exam. Each practice exam costs $60…my PARENTS ARE THE REAL MVP’s!!! If anyone I knew from school asked me what was going on with me, for the most part I said I was taking time off to deal with personal and family issues, which was completely true. During this time, my father broke his leg. My mother got into a car accident. They had also just purchased a new home. They needed their funds for themselves. Instead, they decided to pour into me and, for that, I am forever grateful.
I spoke with one of my classmates who told me she knew of people who could not pass the practice exam, but were able to pass the real exam. I told her my study methods and she said it was much more than what she and many others had done. She was not at all sure what the issue was. I thought perhaps I would also be a student who passed the real exam without passing the practice exam. I decided to take the test.
After my second sitting, I again felt confident. I knew I had passed. I knew so much more information on the exam and I felt really good about it. An academic advisor asked to meet with me after my sitting (??) to discuss what I had tried differently. I took the meeting and she left me with “I hope it works out for you this time.” I had four weeks to wait for my scores to come back, so I fled to New York.
I was in need of relief and a change in scenery. My oldest brother lives in Brooklyn and agreed to let me stay with him for a while. My Aunt used a travel voucher to pay for my plane fare. This time was one of the best in my life. I felt so free, so alive, so incredibly happy. I love the city and I had always wanted to live in New York City just to say I had done it. And I did. My Aunt would come over from New Jersey to spend time exploring with me. She would buy me various outfits and fashion finds, taking my photos with my iPhone 8 Plus just so I would have something to post to my blog. She also carted food over from Jersey and I would truck it all the way to Brooklyn so I would not eat my brother out of house and home. I spent most of my days learning the subway system, walking around Manhattan, viewing the holiday window displays, and frequenting coffee shops. I would go to coffee shops, order the least expensive thing on the menu and just write all day. Write in my prayer journal, write for my blog, I just wrote. It was therapeutic and it made me feel like I was some fabulous Parisian fashionista visiting New York and writing my memoir. In some ways, I guess I was.
The morning my scores came back, I was in the midst of worship. I had confidence in a passing score. I had worked harder than I ever had and almost every sermon I heard leading up to the exam had the message “breakthrough is on the way!” Right before getting my scores, I saw a video by Pastor John Gray entitled “Next Time, It’s Going to Work.” So many of the scriptures I had been led to up to this point also surrounded breakthrough. It was my time and I knew it.
No. I was 6 points off. It was a vast improvement, but not enough. I was shocked. I was stunned. I did not even give myself time to cry or to really get upset. I called my parents and asked them for money so I could reinstate my UWorld (practice questions) subscription. I asked an administrator if I could use the coupon code given to 2nd Year students so at least that cost was covered. However, students with retake examinations could not use the code. Why? “It’s policy.” I was so tired. I cried out to God and asked him to send me a “sho nuff” sign that medicine is for me and that He wanted me to continue on. “I need you to show me right now, TODAY!” I kid you not, that very same evening, a young lady from my great uncle’s church called me to say she was a non-traditional pre-med student interested in applying to medical school. She, too, had been discouraged about her academic record, but needed advice on getting into (and out of) med school anyway. She is now a first year medical student at my school. “Ok, God. I hear you.”
I knew I had to give this go around even more of my all, but I also really wanted to quit. I shoved that feeling of defeat to the side and began studying the next day. Right in my brother’s living room, I got back to work. When I returned to Atlanta a couple weeks later, I began to meet with administrators and other higher ups. They reminded me that I only had one more chance to pass the exam before I would have to go before SAPP for a dismissal hearing. I told them how I had prepared for my second sitting. They recommended a prep course. I told them I had already taken the Doctors in Training course. Each time I said that, I was met with a very distinct facial expression. A pause in conversation. As if to say, “I’m not sure what else to recommend. DIT should have worked.” I began to receive more of the generic “don’t give up hope” comments, but I could see more and more that people were beginning to give up on me. “You’re ok, Anya. You’re ok.” I must have said that to myself over a hundred times that year. With each time, it became less of a declaration and more of an attempt to convince myself it was actually true.
During this time, my eyesight through my left eye began to feel a bit hazy. It had been strained from staring at computer screens day in and day out. Why just the left? I have no idea. I also began to develop severe skin lesions on my hands, feet, and back. I usually get eczema on a different body part each year when the season changes from fall to winter, but this was different. These lesions were more pronounced. They spread quicker. They were more painful. And they lasted longer. No lie. It was unlike any skin pathology I had ever seen. My mom would say it looked like I had a flesh eating disease. Y’all, I felt like I was having my very own Job experience. No, I did not have Hyper IgE “Job” Syndrome. I would have gone to the doctor sooner, but I honestly thought it would disappear on its own just like my eczema of years past. Plus, I was trying to refrain from asking my parents for more funds. I ended up sharing an eczema prescription with my brother, but that did not provide a cure; only temporary relief. Let’s continue…
As if things were not already bad enough, I received a phone call from my school’s Finance department one week before Christmas to let me know I had an outstanding balance of $10,000+ and that it needed to be paid before I returned to school, even if I had passed STEP1. Prior to this call, I was informed that once I passed STEP1, I would receive some financial aid. It would not be the full amount I was used to receiving, but it would be something. I was now being told that financial aid is not retroactive and that I would have to come out of pocket to pay the expense for courses I had taken before receiving my initial exam score. I cried and cried. This is what they wanted to contact me with one week before the holidays, after I had already failed my exam twice. I asked if anything could be done because my parents are not the Rockefellers. “No. It’s policy.” I emailed the president of the school to see if anything could be done to assist me. She had just sent a school-wide memo reminding students to talk to her before getting upset with policy and trying to address things on our own. She publicly reprimanded our student body president for never trying to schedule a meeting with her before airing his (99.999999% of students’!!!!) grievances publicly. But when I sent her my email, I did not receive a response. BUT GUESS WHAT! A few weeks after I learned of this $10,000+ balance, one of my Sorors left a message on my Facebook wall with an email address telling me to look into a particular scholarship. I rarely read things that people leave on my wall or tag me in, but the Holy Spirit directed me to read this. I emailed the point of contact for the scholarship—also a Soror…who used to be in my chapter!!!—and will ya just guess how much the scholarship was for!! COME ON, JESUS! Who else can testify that He’s a “drop it out of the sky” kind of God?! I applied. We will return to this scholarship later.
I continued to study. One professor suggested I use BRS (review books), saying that perhaps I was missing foundational knowledge. I liked BRS and they had been helpful during my coursework, so I began to incorporate the study questions into my regimen. I studied as much as I could, but the truth of the matter is I was burning out. Studying the same material over and over again for almost 7 months now, I needed some relief. I covered my trouble areas and I really wanted to go for exam retake #3! There was only one problem: I, again, could not pass a practice exam and this time, my scores actually began to drop. With each practice exam I took, I saw my score drop and drop some more until ultimately, I saw a score below my score from my initial sitting. I just cried. I was so tired. I asked God why me? I asked when He would show up. Oh and just for kicks, the passing score increased by two points during this time, so I was even further away from what I needed.
I pushed my exam date back twice ($610 + $200+) until finally I reached out to a student I had known to also take the exam three times. He had passed successfully on his third attempt and I wanted whatever sauce he had. He agreed to meet with me and help me get to the exam. So grateful! He let me vent and reassured me everything would be alright. I studied on my own. I studied with him. I began to use a study schedule from my friend to incorporate more of First Aid (another review book). Finally, I saw a passing practice exam score. I took it with a slight grain of salt because I had taken that particular practice exam before in October. There are only so many practice exams available and I had taken all of them. I had not, however, seen the answers and I could see an improvement in my ability to reason through the questions. I was confident that I was almost ready.
I had heard a small voice telling me to move my exam to March. I always try to be attuned to the Holy Spirit, but this was the same voice that told me I passed in June. I began to think the voice was just me lol! I did not trust it, so I asked for prayer. I asked family and a few friends to pray for the right exam date to be revealed. At that time, the date was set for the end of February. As I continued to pray, just about every single sermon I heard, devotional I read, and message I saw said “now,” “move forward,” “it’s your season.” I even double checked a daily devotional asking myself, “but did it say it’s your time??” The exact title read “It’s Your Time.” I kept my February date. Why? Because it was my time.
I felt more confident during that exam than I ever had. As I should, right? I mean this was my third time. Leading up to my exam scores coming back, everyone around me was getting blessed! Classmates who had also failed the exam once, passed on the second try. All of the students in the year ahead of me matched into a residency program. There were more weddings, more pregnancy announcements, more engagements than I could count. Close friends were getting new job opportunities. My best friends were either engaged or extremely close to it. Everyone’s life was lit and I knew it was my time to be on fire too. My score led me to more fire than I could ever imagine.
3 points. THREE POINTS!!!!! I reached out to my Assistant Dean. She said she did not even want to call me because who wants to be the bearer of bad news? That morning, I had gone to the gym and came back to my apartment playing my favorite worship song, “Made a Way” by Travis Greene. I wanted to set the atmosphere for the worship I knew I would surely fall into once I saw my score. Instead…rage. This time, I was livid! I was so angry. I was seeing and spitting fire. I called my parents and bawled my eyes out. I thought, “Surely God has seen my tears. Surely, He has heard me crying and calling out to Him. So why am I still going through this?” God did not cause me to fail, but I felt He had certainly allowed it. While waiting for my scores, I had read “The Shack,” recommended by my classmate to help me understand why awful things happen to God’s people. Basically, the explanation was we don’t know. God allows free will and some things simply are not for us to understand. That was no longer good enough for me. I needed answers and I wanted them right away. How is it that I could work as hard as I had, go through as much as I had, do more than the average student, and still end up in a predicament where SAPP could absolutely dismiss me from school if they wanted to? HOW? Even if they let me stay, what kind of residency program would even want me with four STEP1 exam attempts? Ninety-five percent of med students pass on the first time. More importantly, which surgical residency program would want me? I did not come this far to wake up every day and work in a specialty I don’t even like. This was too much. Things had gone too far and I really did think God would have stepped in by that time. An administrator told me that some of her patients were dying from breast cancer and that it would not be the end of the world if I did not become a physician. She said she loved me and sent me the Serenity Prayer. Told me to hang it up on my mirror. I felt no serenity in sight, so I appreciated the gesture, but scrapped the idea.
I threw my beloved flashcards across my living room. Yes, all 1500 of them. I went to my bathroom and began throwing and breaking my toiletries against the mirror. I was pissed. My dad forced my youngest brother to pick me up and bring me to their house. My dad left work early and met me there. He wrapped his arms around me while I sobbed and asked why me? My mom came home shortly thereafter. She began to tell me to watch my words because they have power. I was not having any of it! Where was the power when I was taking my exam? When I was believing for a passing score? She said one more thing about God and the next thing I knew, I picked up my father’s favorite Bible and through it across the room with all my might. Let that sink in. I picked up The Word of God and chucked it at my parents’ living room wall. “What if God threw you against a wall, Anya?!” my mom exclaimed. My response? “He already did that to one of us! He threw Uncle under a bus. He died on the side of a road and where was God then?!” My Uncle—mom’s brother—passed away 30 years ago when he fell asleep at the wheel and collided with a bus…well that escalated quickly. The Word remained completely intact except for the page with Psalm 38 on it—this is the Psalm where God promises He will rescue His people. My dad later told me to read it. And my mom made me clean the Bible scuff mark from their new wall.
That night, my parents forced me to stay at their home so they could keep an eye on me. Right before bedtime, I picked up a pillow and began to slam it down on the bed my mom had made for me. I just needed to hit something. My parents told me to settle down while I expressed that I was losing it…and I was. My middle brother literally kept me from falling to the ground and told me to follow him to the basement. He strapped me up with boxing gloves. I told him to play “Uninvited” by Alanis Morrisett. That was my “I’m pissed, I hate everything!” song from back in the day. I hadn’t played it in years, but I felt the occasion was more than fitting. Every single blow was a straight up F you! to all standardized exams, disappointments, delays, and unhelpful administrators. We sparred for a time, but then I had to quit. I was out of shape.
If I was not depressed before, I definitely was now. I can’t even describe how mad I was. God and I were on a serious pause. I could no longer explain my predicament as God’s attempt to grow my character or enhance my faith. We were beyond that now. Can you imagine? Throwing all of your time, effort, and resources into the very thing you know you were called to do, remaining steadfast and faithful even at the darkest hour only to have it all thrown in your face? Only to be on the brink of losing it all? “Why don’t you just use some of your other degrees?” many asked. As if it was just that simple to leave my dream utterly and totally behind. I felt like administration was laughing at me. Everything they said about me seemed true. I was so busy professing my faith and doing what God told me. Where was God? I felt like He just let me suffer and become the brunt of scientists’ corny, yet dryly humorous jokes. Administration was so sure I should have decelerated, that I should have delayed STEP1. I know myself and I knew more time was not what I needed. Clearly, as it had been almost a year and I still had not passed the exam. I knew I did not fit the cookie cutter mold of the curriculum. What worked for most did not work for me. I really needed someone to help me figure out what could help me.
It became more and more difficult for me to get out of bed. Some started asking me about a plan B. That only made it worse. I began drinking more…ok I went from having one drink per month to maybe 6 per month, but you get the idea. Some days I wanted to die. I did not have any plan to harm myself, but there were definitely moments when I blacked out on the highway and did not try to regain my focus. I felt like life would always be this way. Every little thing a struggle. Sure, God always came through in the end. I never stopped believing He would. But the journey between here and there was always hell. Always so severe. It was not enough for me to fail an exam here and there; struggling a little bit like the average student. No. I had to fail THE exam…3 times and be up for dismissal only after working my face off to get into the school. I felt like my life would be one drastic struggle after the next no matter what I chose to do in life. I saw no way out of that pattern and that thought only deepened my depression.
The next weekend, my church had their annual Spring Production. I saw my mentor and she asked me how I was doing. I had reached a point before the third exam sitting where anyone could ask me how I was doing and I would just fall apart. Right on cue, I fell apart and she took me into the hallway to talk. So many people I knew from church passed by and saw me completely losing it. She told me I AM a Doctor and I would absolutely do this. Another member of my church family walked by at the time and said aloud, “YES!! DOCTOR BAZZELL IN THE NAME OF JESUS!!” And I felt that. My mentor talked me through it and asked me to come back the next day so we could chat some more. That meant everything. She gets my life and I really did start to feel better. Another mentor handed me a book that outlines the trials and tribulations of three black male doctors. They autographed it for me. My mentor did nothing more than tell them my name, but above their signatures they had written, “Failure is not an option.” I love my mentors dearly. You know who you are! Let’s keep going…
I soon found myself at a psychiatry office. Allow me to stop here for a moment. Let’s stop stigmatizing mental health care, especially in the black community. So many go to doctors to care for their physical health on a regular basis. Your mental health is a part of your person too and should be a priority. I needed to talk to a professional. I needed to understand why I kept failing this exam. I arrived to the office early because I had an interview for another scholarship right before the appointment. Again, I was prepared to disregard the scholarship announcement because I thought I did not qualify. However, they emailed me twice and I asked for clarity. They said I was good to go. Sidebar: in applying for these scholarships, I had to use a transcript from the year before. Not much had changed since I had been out of school for so long, but still I would have liked a more recent transcript. I reached out to the Registrar and they told me I had to talk to Finance because of the now $13,000+ hold on my account. There I was trying to give the school their money, but because of yet another “policy,” I had difficulty making the moves I needed to. I emailed Finance to ask for a momentary lift of the hold on my account, but guess what. They never wrote me back. Thank God for problem solving and for the ability to copy the heck out of all transcripts I already had!!
The interview was with Dr. Yvonne Thornton, an amazing OB/GYN, pianist, and writer of A Ditchdigger’s Daughters. I loved every moment of our conversation. She was so informative, so motivating. It was like a breath of fresh air. It was not without its challenges though. There I was in a psychiatry office parking lot trying to obtain a scholarship for medical school when technically, I was not even in medical school. I was still enrolled, but my dismissal hearing was still pending. It was so difficult trying to feel, trying to be, trying to sound…sane. With everything that was going on, I felt so awful. BUT I had one objective: to impress the hell out of Dr. Thornton and to walk away with that scholarship. I also wanted to avoid all questions about STEP1 and rotations. That part did not quite work out. She asked which rotations I had completed, so I had to tell her that I had only done one because I had to retake STEP1. I told her I was very excited to get back to learning. Already a bit frazzled because she had also asked me about research I had done in 2008, I prayed that my answer sufficed. And it did. I ended the conversation by telling her I knew this scholarship was created for me. She told me she values hard workers over high exam scores any day. I began to feel a bit better.
The interview ended just in time for me to walk into my psychiatry appointment. I prayed I would get some form of solace from the meeting. The nurse called me back and took my vitals. She then commented on the length of my fingers and asked if I play the piano. I do, though I’m out of practice. She said I had such a sense of calm about me and she just knew I played the piano. Can you imagine? Me sitting there feeling like a lunatic and in search of peace? Looks like God brought the peace through me. A classmate had told me this particular physician was so helpful and supportive for her. I prayed I would get the same. No. All she kept asking was “what do you want me to do to help you?” She must have asked at least 3 times. I kept waiting for the psychiatric interview, the family history of mental health issues, the mini mental status exam, all the things I had learned to do on my Psychiatry rotation. Instead, I got “what do you want me to do?” and a family tree I had to fill out inclusive of names and ages of my family members. Oh, there was also the question of whether or not I had a boyfriend (??) That surely pissed off my almost 30 year old self! She said I should talk to a therapist and told me I was not depressed enough to be medicated. Well that’s great news! (??) I thought, “ok, maybe I went to see the incorrect professional for my situation.” Just an hour later, the therapist called me and asks me what?? “What do you want me to do?” I could not believe it. The same exact question. No coping mechanisms. No advice. No evaluation. No nothing. But these were the professionals. These were the experts. They had achieved a specific number on an exam and that number said they were qualified to be healers, to be helpers.
I grew angrier. There were seemingly no answers in sight. The solace I prayed for just did not happen. So God and I remained on pause. I barely prayed. I definitely did not ready my Bible. I even asked my mom to take me off the distribution list for the daily devotionals she sends our family. Then I received the long awaited (ok, only a week had gone by, but still!) SAPP email. They had scheduled my dismissal hearing for April 17th and I had to get up to three letters of support from faculty explaining why I deserved to take the exam again. It was so embarrassing. So humiliating. I had worked so hard not only to get in, but to stay in this school. I felt like I was applying for med school all over again. But I was not about to give up. I began requesting letters and took it all on the chin. Still, everything wore on me so badly.
Around that time, “Grey’s Anatomy” had a few episodes where Dr. April Kepner started wildin’ because she lost God. I identified with her character a lot because she was an avid believer in a world full of doctors with God complexes. But all of a sudden, she and I were the ones with the God complex. Awful things happened and she just could not understand where God was in all of that. So honey, she began to live. her. life. I thought about doing that. Letting some of my stringent life rules and morals go out the window. What was the point, right? I was going to suffer hard times anyway. Might as well enjoy myself. Before I had the chance, another doctor in the show described a hardship in his life. He surmised that he had not lost God. They had simply gotten into a fight. I can’t say exactly why, but that one liner really did soothe me. There was my solace. The doctor said you gotta move on from it. And that’s what I did. And ultimately, April did too.
I got my first glimpse of hope when I received word that I got the $5000 scholarship!! The very next day after my interview! I was so excited to finally receive good news. I knew that $10,000 one was mine too and that it was just a matter of time. Easter Sunday. I went to church because I was grateful for the scholarship. Ain’t that something?! I was definitely acting out! But I was barely present. I was tired of hearing messages about breakthrough and winning seasons that just did not apply to me. That Sunday, there was a sermon about what? Breakthrough. Our Pastor brought a bridge onto the pulpit and invited anyone who wanted to walk over the bridge as a sign of faith that breakthrough is on the way. As soon as he made the invitation, I began bawling. I felt like I was hearing yet another message that was for everyone but me. My dad went over the bridge for me. That night, I made the decision that God and I were back on. How fickle and human am I?! And that from that point on, it was time to be positive and speak life again. Just like that. To this day, I know it was God who made that shift in my attitude. Nothing had really changed about my situation yet, but I was suddenly more amenable to being positive. The solace I hoped to feel as a result of going to the psychiatrist ended up coming directly from The Master. It was like I looked up and all of a sudden, my attitude was changed and my hope was restored. That’s just how He works.
The next day, more good news!! The $10,000 scholarship was mine oh mine!! I was able to accept both scholarships because I was still technically enrolled in school part time with the 3rd Year FOM course. AND the scholarship was associated with a book signing by Cookie Johnson! I began to see that perhaps God took His time with me because He wanted to give me MORE than what I asked for. Still, it did not feel good. I continued to regroup and fix my mind on good things. I met with the therapist I had spoken to before and she dedicated herself to providing the help I wanted. She assisted me with writing a letter to the SAPP Committee for my hearing. The letter expressed what I learned through my experience and my plan for a successful retake. I met with my favorite professor and we devised a plan for study. We concluded it was not my knowledge that was lacking. I had thrown all my time, efforts, and funds into content review when my real issue stemmed from how I approached exam questions. I had trouble determining what the questions were actually asking and ensuring I did not overlook clues in the question stem. I also never saw things in black and white. Many will tell you these exams have more than one right answer, but the student must choose the one that is best. That skill was problematic for me because I could make many a scenario work for the answer choices at hand. My professor and I decided to work more on exam taking skills and less on content review. She also informed me that she had already submitted her letter of support on my behalf. She did not want there to be any problems. She was always down for the cause!
During this time, I began telling a few more people. It had become so obvious that something was wrong. I appeared (and was) so fragile. To most people who asked, I would just say “please pray.” One of my best friends at the time yanked it out of me after asking for details during one of our life update chats. She called me right away and said everything would be ok. She also told me I need to start letting people in a bit more. Buuuuuuut…baby steps. Mostly everyone in my world remained in the dark. Outside of my immediate family, a few classmates, even fewer friends, and my mentors, I told no one. I was just too sad to talk about it. And I definitely only told people who asked me specific questions I could not answer without spilling the beans. The ones I did tell really showed up for me though and I’m so grateful. Two of my line sisters even came together and paid my dues just so I could remain active in our chapter. We Help Each Other! People checked on me regularly just to see if I was ok. I was tired and still upset, but I also became determined that a medical career was meant for me and I had to continue to fight. I began writing this blog post at that time. I knew failure was not the end and that I had better get started writing my testimony.
The next time I stepped foot into Grady Hospital, our teaching hospital, it was to see my cousin. He had been the pedestrian in a hit and run accident and landed right in the ICU. My family was really under attack, y’all!! I frantically made my way to his room. My first objective, of course, was to ensure he was stable. Soon thereafter, however, I began dodging all questions about my time at Grady, my student status, which doctors I knew, and the like. I also (in my head) ducked in and out of corners just in case any classmates were around. I did not want to answer any questions. I had the nurse read me his labs (I knew my stuff!) and I tried to assist and answer family’s questions as much as possible. I played the blame game for just a moment. He had been in the ICU for almost a week before he was lucid enough to tell the nurses who to contact. When I learned that, it was enough to send me into a crying frenzy. What if I had been at Grady when he came in? Perhaps we could have known sooner. It’s not likely because of the number of patients and because of our differing last names, but still.
I continued to rest and prepare for what my mom and I began to call my “Deliverance Hearing.” So many sermons, scriptures (Acts 22), and daily devotionals I stumbled upon pointed to God being the ultimate Judge and Vindicator; Jesus being the ultimate Advocator! I was ready for all that. “Just get me out of this in one piece, over this exam, and back in school…please!” I worked on my blog more. I was able to secure a sponsorship (they sent me free scrubs) with a scrubs company I really loved. Just picture it. I was writing blog posts about med school and scrubs while my actual med student status was hanging on by a thread. It made me feel good, though. I was producing creative content that my followers and brands really seemed to love. I’ll never forget the scrubs brand reaction to my post. Made me feel like I was doing something right! These blog posts also helped me to focus on the end game. You gotta see it before you see it, right?!
The day of my hearing came and I was all set for victory. My speech was prepared, my hair was laid, and all letters of support were accounted for. I squeezed into the suit I had worn during my initial interview for the school—squeezed because sitting around and studying all day every day led to me gaining some unintentional poundage. The suit still had to have some good juju right?! I could barely breathe during the 20 minute ride to my school, but my suit that didn’t fit and I were on a mission and that’s all that mattered. I arrived to the school and was directed to the breakroom. Faculty and staff I had come to know over the years began to pile into the boardroom next door. I watched each one walk by. The next thing I knew, another student was escorted into the breakroom where I waited. I wanted to pray for the two of us. I waited a few moments contemplating whether or not he may even believe in God. I did not want to offend him, but so much was on the line apparently for both of us. I told him I was going to pray and asked if he wanted to join me. He said yes and I held out my hands. I asked his name and program. He was an MD student in the year right after me. He said he did not even know why he was called in for a hearing. He had received some cryptic letter telling him to come. I began to pray for us both. Each time my voice began to quiver, he gripped my hands tighter. I saw him again after that day; a good sign for the both of us. And you know what? We are both graduating this year.
The SAPP committee chair called me into the boardroom and said it was time, but not before asking me how I was feeling. This was the second time that day he had asked. I did not understand how he expected me to respond. I was at a hearing to defend why I should be allowed to remain at school. Each time, I confidently responded I was fine because I was. I really was. I knew I was going to get through this. He directed me to a seat at the head of the table and I began to scan the room for all the familiar faces. I was able to recognize all except two. When I think of the word committee, I envision 5-7 people, not 20+. But there I was: 20+ against 1. BUT GOD outnumbered them all! In the sea of faces, I noticed that only 3-4 of them were medical doctors. The rest were either professors with PhD’s, administrators, and even staff members who proctor our exams. HOW? How was this group qualified to decide what my potential was as a future PHYSICIAN? I digress. Directly to my left, sat the advisor who told me she’s never seen anyone in my case make it out successfully. The committee chair asked me to begin my statement and I recited my well-rehearsed letter I had already submitted in my defense. When I finished, the questions began to pour in. “Why did it take you so long to discover content review was not what you needed?” “You’ve never been told you have test taking anxiety?” “So what did you do to get through 2nd Year?” And the worst from the woman who told me she’s never seen anyone like me make it out successfully, another declaration: “I don’t see what’s different about your current proposed study plan.” I could not believe it. Not only had I provided a detailed outline of my new plan days before I met with the committee, but I had also answered, in detail, questions about my plan right there in front of the entire body before she began to drum up questions of her own. Why would she pick that time to act so remedially? She had at least two follow up questions, each complemented by a confused look on her face as if she really did not understand that before I had only done content review. Now, my plan was to add directed question analysis to ensure I was reading and understanding questions properly before trying to answer them. I needed to focus on how to take a test, not just the information on it. I answered her questions and all others with a straight face, trying so hard to maintain my cool, my dignity. The meeting lasted all of 15 minutes and I was out of there, but not before the committee chair asked me one more time, “You ok?” An administrator told me the committee would vote and have a decision to me by the end of the day and that she would call me with the decision. I went home and stripped off the suit that didn’t fit, remembered to eat, and waited in anticipation. I felt as though the hearing went well. I presented my case clearly, I explained my plan, and I answered all their questions. I even had one faculty member give me advice on a successful retake. Plus, the student who had to take his exam 3 times and helped me study for mine told me he was promised a fourth chance if he needed it. I was in this thang!
Dismissed. Not my case, but me. The SAPP committee voted to dismiss me in spite of the fact that my score only increased which each attempt, the fact I pinpointed the actual problem on my own without any of their “expertise,” and despite the fact I was only 3 points away from passing and had a detailed plan on how to make it right. In less than two hours, 20+ people decided to throw away my entire 12 years of work…just like that. The administrator began to run down the appeal process and where I could find it in my student handbook. I could not help but interrupt her to ask her why they made that decision. Before the hearing, she had informed me the decision would be made based on whether or not they thought I could pass the next time. Now, she was telling me they simply did not see a reason to break the policy. Yet another policy issue. Yet another switch up. I began to vent. I even asked her which members voted against me. “It was unanimous.” I grew angrier. “I worked so hard!” My voice echoed throughout my entire apartment. I told her that so many students can pass tests without any issue, but may not have a heart for people. I asked if that’s the type of student the school wants. Her exact words: “Anya, I’m going to get off the phone now. Take care.” (click) Just like that. She hung up on me…in my face…at a time when I really needed compassion and understanding…she just hung up. And the way she spoke those last words were so final, as if she just knew she would never have to see or deal with me again.
I lost it. I called my father. I called my mother. I just alternated between screaming and crying and hitting the A/C vent with my bare hand to screaming and crying some more. I’m sure my neighbors and the workmen in my hallway thought there was a homicide going on in my apartment. I just could not believe it. My parents tried their best to get me to focus on the appeal. They did not even bother trying to make me come to their house this time. I was done. So done. Again, there was the thought that I wanted to die. Not because I had been dismissed from medical school, but because I thought my life would always be this way. Everything always so severe, so painful, so…much. I knew it hurt my parents to hear me say that, but I had to get it out. I tried to get high (marijuana – yes, all my scruples were going out the window). I texted a friend to ask if he had any, but he didn’t. I texted my classmate to let her know the news and she consoled me and prayed. We were both so upset. She could not understand why faculty members who were so kind and supportive to her were so vindictive and cold toward me. But I knew. I had not decelerated. I had not pushed my original exam date back. I had written an essay on maintaining professionalism in some pretty unprofessional circumstances. There was a target on my back and I felt like they wanted me to know it. She reassured me God saw all of this and they “just don’t know who they voted against.” That statement moved me incredibly and has remained something I reach for in times of need even to this day. No weed or alcohol in site, I was forced to deal with my pain. I was also forced to remember that turning to substances was not me. I needed to turn to God, even if I did not feel He was totally on my side. It sufficed for me to sit alone in the dark and watch “Girls Trip” for the rest of the night. It’s one of my favorite movies, but that night I don’t think I laughed even once. I turned it off before it ended and I went to sleep.
The next day, I had a bit of a clearer mind and began to think about the appeal. I submitted my request to appeal in writing to the president as well as her chief of staff. I had 10 days from the dismissal to get on her docket and plead my case. I reconfirmed with my classmate that he was promised a fourth exam retake if he needed it. I also asked around for the names and years of students who had been given a fourth chance. I was building my case. This particular classmate told me he had been informed of a few students who were given the opportunity. Two faculty members had told him. No one I knew could find their names. I had another classmate pray for me. He and his entire church group prayed. He linked me with a mentor who is an alum of our school and who also had to take STEP1 multiple times. She was still able to match into her #1 choice of residency and went on to become chief resident. Finally! Someone who really struggled at multiple stages like me! She told me I was likely dismissed because I had made someone on the committee upset. She reviewed my letter to the president, saying that she would provide comments on how to improve the letter. She never did, but our conversation still helped and made me feel I was not alone.
Another classmate and friend told me I should get my parents involved and meet with the professor who promised our other classmate a fourth chance should he need it. I immediately emailed her and got on her schedule. She reminded me that another administrator was my point of contact for these matters, but was willing to meet with us. The other administrator had hung up in my face. No meeting necessary.
That day I took a break from all my planning to meet up with a friend at the mall. Before meeting him, I drove through Marietta and went back to the first house my family and I moved into after leaving Massachusetts. I just wanted to remember how it felt to be innocent and unscathed by life, you know? I wanted to go back to the place where I last felt happiest, where I last felt 100% free of any burden. I went home. I parked my car at the edge of the driveway and reminisced for a bit. I remembered the family from London two doors down who provided me with my first up and close experience hearing a British accent. The family next door who showed the first signs of Southern Hospitality by bringing over a ‘Welcome to the Neighborhood’ cookie cake. The single man up the street who gave away full size candy bars every Halloween. The Jehovah’s Witness kids on the corner who always tried to convince us to share our birthday presents with them. Our steep driveway and the makeshift sleds we made out of moving boxes during the Snowpocolypse of ’95. I was there all of 5 minutes, but when I drove off, I felt better…lighter.
I met the friend at the mall to continue my search for innocence and youth. Anyone else remember just walking around the mall with friends on a Friday night? In Marietta, at least, it was a thing to do. Town Center! That’s where I found myself that afternoon. It felt good at first, but then once we hit Charlotte Russe, my blood sugar was low and I could feel it. I had not eaten enough that day. I asked the friend for a piece of candy and began to hang on to one of the clothing racks. It took him a moment, but he soon realized I was not ok. He told me I was not taking care of myself. My response? Hysterical laughter. It’s a coping mechanism of mine…and apparently the residents on “Grey’s Anatomy” too. Remember in earlier seasons when they would laugh at really inappropriate moments? Yea, that was me in real life. I just laughed and laughed, talking about how I was walking aimlessly around a mall because I had been kicked out of medical school…kinda like Christina Yang when she briefly decided to quit her residency. As the words flowed, I felt like the wind had been kicked out of me. I was practically on the ground, hurled over in pain. Tears filled my eyes, but I was not about to let those flow too. My friend told me it was ok to be sad. I had a full on melt down right there in Charlotte Russe in front of the employees and all the shoppers. I eventually stopped laughing, regained my composure, and we went to get some food because y’all, I really did almost pass out.
The planning for my appeal was going well. My parents were on board to leave work early and to provide anything I needed. There was only one problem. The president and chief of staff had not responded to my email. I sent a follow-up email. Each correspondence was left on read. I sent read receipts to cover myself. Cardi B’s song “I Do” had just dropped. “I left the n*gga on read cause I felt like it.” Relatable content I suppose. Two more days went by. No response. Now I only had 5 days to get on the president’s calendar to make the appeal. So I went back to my old tactics: stalking. First thing Monday morning, I went to her office and spoke with her administrative assistant. Of course, the president was in a meeting. She was extremely busy, but her assistant took my information and said she promised I would get a response. They would have to move some things around, but they would fit me in. I thanked her profusely and went home to wait for an email. Finally, the chief of staff wrote me, apologizing for her delayed communication. She said she would work to get a meeting date for me. I thanked her and asked her to let me know if she required anymore information from me. Another day went by. Nothing. The window of time for me to make my appeal was going to end in two days. I decided to get more drastic. I packed my study materials and gathered my business attire. I planned to arrive at the president’s office the next morning at 7am and just hold up shop until they scheduled my meeting. As soon as I put my flashcards in my briefcase, I checked my email. I saw a meeting request for Thursday, April 26th. I unpacked my briefcase and thanked God for being on time!
The next day, my parents and I prepared for our meeting with the professor who had promised one student and his father a fourth exam retake. They asked me why I wanted to meet with her if I finally had an appeal date. Honestly, I did not know. I just felt like it was something we should do to cover all our bases. I did not even really know what I wanted to ask her. I just knew that we were going. I had begun to pray for the entire SAPP committee. The Word says to honor people even if they dishonor and try to harm you. I did not want to go through my appeal…through life with any hatred in my heart. God also reminded me of what I had read in Acts. That was the book I had been reading at the time at the advisement of another classmate. Four classmates in particular really showed up and held me down, y’all! In Acts, Paul, too, had to make an appeal. The Jews could not find a reason to convict him, but objected to his freedom so fiercely that he was forced to go before Caesar. God told him that he would make it to Caesar; he and everyone with him would make it. First they would experience shipwreck (Acts 27). I received so much confirmation and comfort from that passage. I sent this Word to my classmate and we both prayed and believed.
My parents and I met with the professor. Before we could even sit down, she had the student handbook ready to go. I already knew where this conversation was headed. She regurgitated the policy. A student can have 3 times to take the exam. Failure to pass indicates the student can be dismissed. I want to point out the policy states a student can be dismissed, not that the student has to be dismissed. Allowing the student another chance, especially since the licensing board allows 6 chances, is still within policy. The professor said she only knew of one student who had been given a fourth opportunity in all of her years at the school. I thought there were a few students. Now I was being told only one. I reemphasized it had been done before. An exception—even if it was just one—had been made. I did all but say she specifically had promised another chance to a student if needed. I did not want to implicate him. The conversation was getting hot—and so were her ears, bright red—and I am sure she knew what I was implying. Each time I felt myself getting upset, I stopped talking to cool down and my parents stepped in with their questions, their comments, their concerns. To this day, I am so glad we met with her! Why? She gave us insight into everything the SAPP committee said about me, but not to me. I held on to each bit of information, cataloging each component in its own special compartment in my head. She began to tell me I was still a health professional, that I could still make a great impact with my public health degree. She said she knows several public health practitioners who make a greater impact than doctors on a daily basis. #patronizing. My thought: how much more of an impact can I make when I have both?! I stood my ground. I told her any impact I make will be as a physician. “You can withdraw instead of being dismissed so that you can enroll at Caribbean school.” I told her I would be finishing at this school. “Spiritual people always usually find the path they are supposed to be on.” I told her I was already on the right path and that the only option was for me to keep going because I was called to this. By this point, her ears looked like cherries. My father asked her one last question: “What do you think as a human being? Not as an administrator, but as a person.” Her response? “As a person, I have different thoughts.” That was all we needed to hear. The meeting ended and my mom told me how proud she was. She looked at me with such great pride. I’ll never forget that look. She told me I had respectfully stood up for myself. I didn’t know about the respect part. I could sense my father’s base in my voice and Bronx attitude in my throat the entire time, but my parents don’t lie to me. I must have done right.
I spoke to my classmate that night and she said I should find an article to show that students who fail STEP1 can still be successful. I should build an argument against the SAPP committee’s thought that I will never match into residency and become board certified. I found the article. Brilliant! Then I thought, I’ll build a case against everything they said about me. I did not decelerate. I did not move my original exam date, but there are so many things I did do. Outside of those two things, I did everything. All else they said? False. I did not communicate with faculty enough and ask for help? I printed out all the emails between me and various faculty members. Keep yo emails! I should have been plugged in with a professor to help me more? I printed out the emails between me and my fave professor detailing how we met once a week to get me through 2nd Year. I didn’t do what faculty told me to do? I pulled out my tattered DIT study manual stuffed with notes showing how I had basically re-written the entire book. I had focused on content review…all at the advisement of faculty. I will be in debt because I likely will not match? Research says I will match. I am already in debt because it took me 3 degrees to get here. I cannot bank on a possibility of what won’t be. I printed my award letters for the scholarships I had received to take care of the immediate debt I owed the school. The SAPP committee said I would not do well on my clinical rotations? I had already completed one rotation. Psychiatry. I had performed perfectly fine. I even passed the shelf exam for the course—a standardized exam. I was ready. I was ready to appeal to Caesar and win!
The next day, I gathered all my documents and organized them into a folder. I mentally rehearsed what I wanted to say and before I knew it, the time had come for me to get dressed. I put back on the suit that did not fit (in a different color, of course!) and drove to the school. My parents and I were there early. When the president came in, she barely spoke to my parents and soon thereafter summoned me into her office. My parents were not allowed in. I grew nervous, but God was with me and I thank Him that I had a chance to speak to her one on one. Initially, I thought other faculty members would be there because their names appeared on the meeting request. I strategically and matter of factly presented all of my information to her. At the advisement of my friend, I began with an apology. The friend told me I probably came off as arrogant to the SAPP committee. Arrogant. There I was thinking I was merely confident in what God instructed me to do. I decided to play their game. I apologized for not decelerating, for not pushing my first exam date back. I showed humility and she really liked that part lol. After the apology, I redirected her focus, showing her that outside of those two things, I had done everything as I should. I reminded her that deceleration and delaying the exam are not fail proof. Several of our students did both and still had to take their exam more than twice. Some of them were in the graduating class at the time and still matched. After presenting all of my counterarguments, I appealed to her as a person, as a human being. I gave her my CV detailing my 12 years of work it took me to get to where I was. I asked her not to throw me away. I reminded her of how we met at the National Medical Fellowships (NMF – a scholarship program, the president is an alum! Always take every opportunity to network!) Champions in Medicine Awards Gala and how I was able to share a piece of my story there. I reminded her that she would be speaking at that year’s NMF conference and I wanted to be there as a student, as her student. She thanked me for my organized presentation and for my self-reflection and self-awareness. I thought, “Good. That’s really good.” But then she pointed to the handbook and said she has to be the face of policy and if policy is broken, there must be a good reason. I was really starting to loathe that handbook. She said this was sad for the school too. They chose me because they thought I would succeed. They would have to re-evaluate their curriculum. I had just watched a sermon that week on how God uses us to change policy sometimes. I thought, “Dear God, please don’t let them use my experience to make changes for the better without me.” The meeting lasted no more than 15 minutes. I raced to my car so no one would see me. I balanced in between declaring the Word of God and believing in Him to do the impossible and accepting whatever may come my way. Honestly, with each meeting it seemed as though what I was asking really was unheard of. It didn’t stop me from asking, though! A funny thing happened after I left the school. My shoulders loosened up and I could hear God telling me, “That was the last meeting. Appealed.” I began to get excited, but not too excited because I had misheard God before. I still felt it, though. The president said she would deliberate and speak to the SAPP committee and let me know her final decision within 5 business days. The next day, I was supposed to go to Virginia to accept one of my scholarships. Should I even go? My classmate and parents told me absolutely! God does not work linearly like we think He should. Just go on faith. Oh, I was going. I just wanted to hear that it would be ok. God told me to enjoy my weekend and check my email on Monday.
I went to Virginia and enjoyed every moment. I felt so loved, so accepted, and so celebrated by those who did not even know me. No longer was I a number on a piece of paper that simply was not high enough. I was a person and a force to be reckoned with. I was someone destined to make a difference and people could see it and told me so. During my acceptance speech, I gave God all the Glory and told of how He provides and says yes when I really need it, even when everyone around me says no. I told of how the scholarship literally just fell out of the sky for me and encouraged others to believe even if the dream takes longer, costs more, or stretches you further than you can ever imagine. Afterward, attendees came up to me one after the other. They told me how my words touched them, how they really needed to hear all of that, how they cried. Some came up to me quoting what I had said, asking me to repeat it so they could write it down. Still others came to me and told me of personal struggles they and their loved ones were facing just looking for a word of encouragement. That’s when I could really see it. God was using me. Everything I had been through was culminating in my purpose. It sucked. It was painful, but it was necessary. I knew things just had to work out in my favor because of what God had shown me “out of order.” I knew for a fact He gave me those scholarships. All I experienced that weekend confirmed it. I’m so grateful that He gave me something tangible to cling to while He worked on my behalf.
That weekend, God also directed me to Google so I could discover what happened with Paul and Caesar. I know that in the end he was beheaded, but I wanted to know what happened with the appeal. I had begun reading the Book of Romans, but it said nothing of the appeal. I went to Google and found that although undocumented in the Bible, historians convey Paul won his appeal, went on to preach the gospel, and even returned to Rome to make some very much so needed changes. I grew so excited! I finished off the weekend celebrating and feeling extremely grateful! I discovered the donors of my scholarship are the actual parents of the young doctor who passed away (at my age at the time -29) and carried the name of the award. How selfless!!! I could not thank them enough and I hope I make them proud.
Monday came. I had been praying and fasting. So had many of my family members and friends—the select few who knew. I began playing a sermon on YouTube: “Marked” by Michael Todd. I opened my email and there was the letter. For the first time, I was not overwhelmed by nervousness. The night before, I had already told God, “Thy will be done. That’s what’s going to happen anyway and that’s what’s best for me.” And I meant it. God had already confirmed I was going to be a doctor and even went as far as telling me to start studying again. I was prepared for whatever. Although, simply remaining at my school and completing that program sure seemed like the easiest and most convenient thing to do.
APPEALED!!!!!!!!!! I cannot even express how excited I was/still am! Something unheard of was now being heard of, ya heard?! God stepped in right on time just as He reminded me He would. He had led me to Matthew 10:23 the week before! “Before you run out of options, the Son of Man will have already arrived.” I praised God as best as I could. I was in such a trance, such a state of euphoria. I was just completely undone by His miracle and by how He was using me. I told those who knew and we just glorified God together. He had done it! The President gave me until June 26th to take the exam. “That’s kinda soon,” I thought. I looked at the date of her email. It had been sitting in my inbox since Friday! FRIDAY!!! While I was receiving my scholarship on faith, God was doing his part! The decision that was supposed to take 5 days took less than 24 hours! This warp speed, this acceleration, this “so fast your head will spin” was everything God had promised me all year, only in His timing (Amos 9). I’m just so grateful. I was back in the game and I knew that nothing and no one would take me out!
I began to study, but not without another hiccup. The president gave me until June 26th to take my exam, but when I tried to register, I did not have access to the June eligibility period. USMLE (medical licensing board) informed me that my fourth attempt could not occur sooner than 6 months, placing me within the September – November eligibility period. I was so disappointed. I would have to study for this exam for another 6 months. How would I retain the information? How would I maintain my sanity and pace myself? How would my parents continue to support me for that long? I got upset. I vented, but I also remembered how much of a blessing it was that I could even have another chance. I got it together and, again, told God to have His way. Again, I meant it. I began to tell myself that I was on a special journey with Jesus and I would get there when I got there. Humor helps me get through a lot of things.
The next day, I met with my favorite professor. She told me that she met an IT staff member from our school at a conference she recently attended. He worked in IT, but he also specialized in test-taking strategy. WHAT????? She told him about my predicament and he agreed to meet with us. Various faculty members knew about his expertise, but did not agree with his methods so they did not let students know he was there. Again, God provided me with a “drop it out of the sky” blessing! My professor and I met with him and began to work on a plan for a successful retake. That morning, an administrator reached out to me to say there was a waiver I could apply for so that I can take my exam before 6 months! I was in such awe of God. I told Him to take over. I told Him I trust His timing and boom! More acceleration! My professor and I decided on the July – August eligibility period. On my way out of her office, I saw one of the members of the SAPP committee. Y’all. The way she stared at me. When she saw me, her mouth literally fell open and she just stared, as if to say, “I can’t believe she’s back.” I wanted to laugh so badly. Her expression was so priceless. I kept my composure as much as possible and just smiled and went on my way. “Make a show of how much you love me so the bullies who hate me will stand there slack-jawed, as you, God, gently and powerfully put me back on my feet” – Psalm 86:17. The Word of God was literally coming to life in my life and I was loving every minute of it!
Later on that week, an administrator told me to just take the exam in September. I wanted to ask why she no longer wanted me to use the waiver, but I did not want to cause a fuss. This was my life during that season. So much back and forth. I was disappointed I would have to remain in STEP study mode for so long, but I knew I had to just keep going. I continued my preparation. And it turned out I needed all that time. For the first few weeks, I woke up with nausea most days. I developed headaches throughout the day. I think it was the stress of it all. I was having an intense emotional reaction to all of this. Can you imagine? Sitting at a desk trying to study when you don’t even feel well? Trying to use your brain when you’re depressed…but not depressed enough to be medicated so you just have to deal with it? I prayed for healing and focus so I could get through. I was having a whirlwind of emotions—none of which I really had the time to deal with. After each disappointment, I got back on the horse as quickly as I could. I remained as diligent as I could. I wanted/want this. The school dismissal messed with me the most. Even though I got back in, the mere fact that it happened, that it got that far really did something to me. I should have made more time to deal with those emotions, but I felt like I just did not have time. I was on a mission to pass that test and make good on my word to the President.
I continued meeting with my professor and the test-taking strategist. More and more, I saw that in addition to not knowing how to take tests, I had some pieces of information were missing. But how? I had been studying this information for a year, not to mention the two years I had spent initially learning it (MD Year 1 and Year 2). What was I doing wrong? “I’m never gonna get it.” I just broke down and cried and we went over the cardiac cycle. “Yes you are!” my professor responded so assuredly while handing me a Kleenex tissue. She told me to go to the library downstairs and check out all the text books from the subjects that were giving me the most trouble. No more review books. It was time to go back to the very beginning. I hesitated because text book reading has never been the most efficient way for me to study. I have always preferred lecture notes, office hours, and practice questions. But we were desperate. I went down to the library and quietly slipped a list of books to the librarians. Several of my classmates began to arrive to the library because it was their day to be on campus for the FOM class. I tried to bury my face in my phone as a few walked by until things became wildly embarrassing. The librarians and I have built a rapport over the past few years. They used to be able to set their watch by me because I was always there in the morning when they opened the library. After catching up and asking how I was doing, they began to look for my books. There was only one problem: they began saying the names of the books out loud. PATHOLOGY!! MICROBIOLOGY!! PHYSIOLOGY!! It felt as though they were screaming lol. I wanted to literally disappear. Instead I settled for swiftly moving from the front desk toward the book shelves. I pretended to help them look for the books, but really I was hiding from my classmates. We finally tracked down all the books and I all but ran out of the library. I can laugh at it now, but then… not so much!!
I continued to work. The nausea eventually subsided. The headaches became farther and fewer in between. I felt so rudimentary thumbing through my books from the 1st and 2nd years, but by any means necessary, right? So many people around me continued to receive new opportunities, get engaged, have babies, graduate, get married…and pass exams. Different people reached out to me while studying for STEP1 to ask for my advice; thinking I had already passed. I advised them as best as I could. I told them everything I knew to do. If they struggled, I told them who to talk to and what approach to take. Then…they passed. On their first try, they passed. Not because of me, but definitely with help from my advice. I was glad for them, but I could not help but feel even more stuck. I felt as though people were doing laps around me while I remained in the same place I was one year ago. I did my best to put on blinders and not compare. Everyone deals with something. I guess this was my…something. Mine was just so severe. But you know what? I kept going anyway. I worked my test-taking strategist’s plan. I spread out all my books and looked up questions I got wrong in the text books instead of the First Aid review book. I only made flashcards for things I really needed help remembering (instead of 1500 flashcards for everything lol). I worked the new strategy. Don’t get me wrong. I take full responsibility for each failed exam as well as failure to address my issues with test-taking. It’s just that I wish my school could have provided me with resources and advice other than deceleration and delay of my exam; resources that would actually address the issue. Perhaps they did not have the capacity to. Now because of my story, hopefully they do. I’m so glad the president ensured I had my chance.
God proved once again He is not a man that He should lie. Even though I had to study all summer, that summer FLEW by! And I mean FLEW! He was STILL accelerating me. During this time, I didn’t just study. I practiced more balance. I traveled to New York to celebrate my 30th birthday. I made the trip to DC for the annual conference hosted by my scholarship program. I went to South Carolina to see my mentor get married. I created more content for my blog. Yes, I even included medical school content. I allowed medically-related Instagram pages to post about me and all I wanted to do in the field of medicine. I was sitting on the edge of medical school peering in, but I just had to believe I’d pass my exam and get back to my rotations.
Before I knew it, the end of August had arrived and I was days from my exam. My professor told me not to take an NBME practice exam because it would only freak me out and make me nervous. I smiled and told her this was not the typical way to do things. She told me we were far beyond typical. I felt like she had gone a bit rogue and I was bout it! No NBME for me. I just continued on with my practice questions and continued to see vast improvement in knowledge, comfort level, and timing.
I decided to apply for another scholarship because I had a bit of a balance on my account. I had used some of my scholarship money from that year for living expenses. I had just given the school a large lump sum of money and reached out to Finance to release my transcript (there was still a hold on my account) so I could have an updated document to submit to the scholarship program. I also needed an updated document to apply for my renewable scholarship. Both scholarships were from the same organization. No go. Finance would not release the transcript. I spoke to the Registrar. She referred me back to Finance. I spoke to someone in Finance. They referred me back to her boss. I explained to the head of Finance I needed scholarships to cover what I owed and I could not apply without an updated transcript. I also explained I needed my transcript for my renewable scholarship program. Nothing moved her. I wrote a follow-up email practically begging. She said she could not release my transcript because she knows other students who received their transcript and never paid the school. I had just given them $10,000. And I still had two years left. Where was I going? She also said part of her decision not to help me stemmed from the fact I had not paid off the $1000 emergency loan (included in the balance I owed). You know, the $1000 check that took 20 days to cash?! I guess NONE of the $10,000 contributed to that $1000 I owed. There I was trying to pay off my balance. I had already shown I was a woman of my word. I could not believe someone could be that evil and mean-spirited. Even my undergrad alma mater, in one of the most racist cities in America, released my transcript and erased the fee (I explained they charged me incorrectly) I owed them when I needed to apply for a job. I ate major humble pie and explained the situation to my scholarship program. They were so kind to me. The people who GIVE me money each year—so much kindness and understanding. The people who I PAY every year—protection of their own interests even when a student is trying to do the right thing and pay up. The scholarship program manager apologized that I was going through this and allowed me to submit an old transcript. I eventually received each scholarship I applied for. ALL GOD. I paid off my debt to the school and didn’t look back.
My exam day came and went. Even with all my preparation, the test was so difficult. My timing was better, though and that really made me excited. As I awaited my scores, I watched my classmates post passing scores for STEP2…and submit their applications for residency…and have more babies…and more engagements…and more love. I had to get past it and focus on the fact that I was still in the game. It was hard, really hard, but I did it. God showed me He was using me. More people began reading my blog, particularly the #RoadToMD post. People I did not even know reached out to tell me how much it meant to them to see someone else struggled through. Even someone from the Masters program at my school reached out because she, too, had a long journey. It made me feel good that my journey was not in vain.
I started living my best life! Restaurants. Blogger events. Time with family. Sleeping in. Movies. Leisure reading. Ice Cream. More ice cream. I started seeing a therapist so I could get stuff out and prepare for the next stage in my career. And just like my Mom taught me, I began to speak ALOUD all the things I expected: to PASS my exam, to grow my blog, to excel in my craft, to move forward with my rotations. Each day, I walked around my apartment and SPOKE what I wanted and expected to happen. I envisioned myself reaching out to all the people I knew, letting them know about the good news. I envisioned taking my parents out to dinner as a thank you. One of the women from my church told me to speak things into existence and believe it was already done. “Then is now. There is here.” God used her to confirm what I was already doing. I finished my new vision board and taped it up on my living room wall right underneath the one my Mom made for me as I waited to get into medical school. They clashed with all the décor lol, but I didn’t care. I needed to SEE it.
One week went by. Two weeks. Three. On Wednesday of the third week, I woke up and began to watch John Gray’s sermon “Any Minute Now.” I thought, “Ok God. Yep! Next week exactly.” It usually takes 4 Wednesdays to get your scores. Then I saw a text daily devotional from a family friend: “It’s Just around the Corner” “Ok, God! I see you! Absolutely! Next week!” Then something unexpected happened. At 10:45AM on September 19th, I received an email from NBME. “Your scores will be available in 15 minutes.” Not gonna lie. I began to panic. I was prepared to pray and believe and pray for another week before receiving my news. But there it was staring me in the face. I questioned why the Assistant Dean had not called me yet. Her system is updated early in the morning. The last time this happened, she had not called me because she did not want to give me more bad news. I snapped out of it and said aloud, “No. I command that I pass. I did not go through all of this, my PARENTS did not go through all of this just so I could fail. God you got me into this school and kept me here for a purpose! So let’s go!” I read Isaiah 54:11-17 about how God is going to rebuild me and make a liar out of anyone who takes me to court. I logged into the NBME webpage at 11am and got to my score report by 11:01am. I was so nervous. As I scrolled down to review my score, all I could say was “Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God” until I saw it:
PASSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My whole body was shaking!! I threw up my hands and just began to thank God! I could hardly get anything out of my mouth. I was so incredibly happy. I just smiled and jumped and smiled some more. I could not believe this awful year, this extremely difficult season was coming to an end. Just as I imagined, I began to share with all who knew. I told all except my parents so I could surprise them during dinner the way I had when I initially got into this school. The literal pressure from my chest absolved. I smiled more than I had in months. I cried. I danced. I Breathed…I breathed. I think what excited me the most was that I’d finally addressed my issues with test-taking head on. I knew board exams would be different going forward and that was absolutely something I could be proud of. My oldest brother told me how my pursuit of my dreams had always inspired him. To me, that comment meant the most. I was back in action and my life was LITTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!! And don’t ya know I started rotations on the following Monday?! Internal Medicine. That was my initial hope to be able to get the longest rotation out the way and stay on track for 2020 graduation, but I thought my scores would be back a week too late (you cannot jump into a rotation once it’s already started). BUT GOD! He moved up the receipt of my scores and again proved to me: ACCELERATION!
I got my affairs in order, ensured all paperwork was completed, and went to school to see about my financial aid lol!! The head of Financial Aid greeted and hugged me. She knew the whole story. She was so happy for me and said she wanted to email me herself lol! They were already working on my paperwork when I walked in. Those who were in my corner and truly rooting for me—I have so much appreciation for them and ALWAYS will. I spoke to the president face to face that Friday morning—the day of the White Coat Ceremony for the 1st Years. How poetic! I thanked her profusely, handed her a handwritten card expressing my gratitude, and told her if she ever comes across anyone in my predicament, I hope she thinks of me and remembers all the possibilities.
And you know what? I soon walked into:
The Breakthrough of Allllll Breakthroughs.
Finally, one for me! Failure. Miserable failure. That’s what led me to the biggest breakthroughs of my life. I would not have won all those scholarships if I did not have an inspiring story to tell. I would not have anything to really share if I had just traipsed through medical school without blemish. Long suffering really did bring forth the greatest rewards. At first, it really bothered me that I would not be able to graduate with my class. This was the first time I experienced a delayed graduation. One day I suddenly realized we were all going to the same place: residency, responsibility, and real adulthood. What did it matter if I got there a year later? Was that not the end game anyway? That revelation and acknowledgement truly helped me. I hope it can be of help to anyone else in my shoes. My story went from Joseph in the pit, to Job losing so much, to Paul being vindicated and used all within one year.
Now 3rd Year was not easy. I still experienced difficulty. I had imposter syndrome for real. I showed up many a day in a daze because I just could not believe I was still in medical school. I had to rebuild my confidence from the ground up. I had to remind myself to breathe. I was pimped (hard!) and I had to learn how to synthesize information in a way that was relevant to my patients’ conditions. It was a steep learning curve, but I showed up. Every day I showed up. I had difficulty with time management and momentarily stopped doing what my test-taking strategist taught me. As a result, I had to retake 3 shelf exams. Yes, 3. But you know what? I returned to the methods I had learned and passed them all! My computer mouse stopped working during the Internal Medicine retake, causing me to fail, BUT I advocated for myself when SAPP tried to make me retake the entire 12 week course—I wasn’t having it!—and I got a chance to take the test with a functioning mouse. PASS! I’m glad I had to retake those exams because it forced me to study longer, harder, and smarter for STEP2. I sat for the CS and CK components of the exam on December 2nd and December 17th respectively and Passed both on the first try! Pretty good for someone who SAPP said would never pass the STEP exams, right?!
Retaking my shelf exams did not come without consequences, though. OB/GYN was one of the exams I had to retake and that just happens to be my field of interest. I asked 3 faculty members for letters of recommendation so I could apply to OB residency. I made my request in June. However, they knew my final grade in the course would be a C simply because I had to retake the shelf. My schedule was already delayed and I took my time preparing for my retakes. I was informed 2 weeks prior to the deadline that I needed to take the OB exam by a certain date in November if I wanted to be considered for May graduation. I scrambled. I reached out to the academic scholar for OB via email to ask a few clarifying questions. I passed the exam. I was done with my retakes. BUT my letter writers. They said I rushed to pass the exam. Darn straight I did! I NEEDED to graduate and move the hell on! They didn’t like my final score. They didn’t like my final grade—even though they knew as early as February 2019 it would be a C. They called a meeting. In the fall they had told me “Pass the exam, then we can assess you and write a letter.” I passed the exam. Then it was “We need to see your exact plan and what sets you apart from others for the Match.” I sent them my CV with my extensive list of qualifications, work, publications, and research. They said my CV was too long and unorganized and did not have enough Women’s Health on it. I counted. There are nine Women’s Health related experiences on my CV. One of them is a publication. Then came the truth: they did not want to write letters for me. They did not think I would pass STEP2 that year. They did not think I could pass my CREOG residency exams any year. They did not want to write letters that spoke to my clinical abilities (which received good grades!) because they ultimately did not want to put their names on the line for me. Everything based on an “if” of what might be. Their advice was that I only apply to Family Medicine and that I consider not even taking STEP2 in 2019. There was just one thing. I had already submitted my applications for OB and Family Medicine. So there I was. Applying to OB without any OB letters, without any OB chair letter. And they waited until late November (very late in the residency interview calendar) to tell me what I believe they felt all along. Instead, I rode out with 1 letter from Surgery and 2 letters from Family Medicine docs who practiced OB at some point in time. I asked the OB/GYN department if I’d at least get the courtesy interview all students at my school get when we apply to the school’s residency program. The answer? No. They did not believe I would match into OB. And they denied me just about everything my classmates got. I watched as they wrote letters for and supported classmates who did well on STEP1, but went on to fail STEP2 and/or STEP3 (inclusive of more clinical questions) multiple times. Some of these students actually ended up approaching me to ask advice on how I passed STEP2. Why was I going through this? Because these OB/GYN faculty members viewed me as a number. No more. No less. And by the way, that STEP1 number—the 3 digit score that is supposed to determine the course of my entire life, the 3 digit score that makes so may feel elite when really we should focus on character, actual knowledge (not the ability to take tests), and patient-centered care— yea, it was just announced the 3 digit score is transitioning to Pass/Fail in a couple years. So there’s that.
It’s still so surreal that I am graduating and ending this part of my journey this week. Even with all things covid, 4th Year has been everything to me: Rejuvination. Exploration. Rededication. Redemption. I passed the very exams I was told I would not. I learned from my mistakes and finally addressed my test-taking difficulties so I no longer have those struggles and can perform when I need to. Can you imagine what a load off that is for me? I am becoming a physician. All the things they said I wouldn’t, God did. Just about every negative med school scenario that could happen did happen to me. But I’m still HERE. Again, I take full responsibility for all I faced. I am telling my experience and my story from my point of view. I wish my school and the policies thereof could have made things a bit less stressful during an already stressful time, and I am hoping my story calls into question those policies to do what is truly best for the students; for the future healers of this nation. I wake up smiling from the pit of my soul as I have not done in so very long. This WIN is not just for me. It’s for all who have been told they can’t or they’ll never. It’s for everyone who wants to give up. It’s for the med students who got dismissed and who did not get another chance. I see you. I’m praying for Miracles just for You.
As I prepare for my final school graduation, I reflect on my 8th Grade Award Ceremony 18 years ago. Simpson Eagles, stand up! Ms. Sinclair, one of my favorite teachers, quoted a few lines from the song “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack. She encouraged me and my peers to pursue our passions fiercely, to give our endeavors our best effort, and to put the work behind our dreams so we could see them come to pass. I have never been much of a country music aficionado, but the lyrics of that song and Ms. Sinclair’s message really did stick with me all this time. My story is still being written. God is still moving and I can’t wait to share how life continues to unfold. For now, I will leave you with this: Wherever you are in life, whatever you are facing, you CAN and you WILL get through it. Not in a “I’m just going to give up and settle for something else” kind of way, but in a “I pushed through and God absolutely blew my mind” kind of way! I’m a witness. I hope you dance.
xoxo,
Dr. Anya Bazzell, MD, MPH, MS
So, this could EASILY be a book or a guide to other medical students…shoot, students PERIOD!!! Be it high school, undergraduate, or graduate, there are so many students that have test anxiety and give up because they perceive themselves to be failures. Just the mere fact that your convictions were so strong in fueling your desire to not give up is encouraging on so many levels. When you KNOW you have been called to something, there is nothing or nobody that can stop you. Not even yourself.
Author
Amen!!! Just Amen❤️😭🙏🏾🙌🏾Definitely plan on sharing more in book format!!💪🏾Thank you so much!!
Dr. Anya! Thank you so much. I am grateful for the ministrant words written here. I am a nontraditional doctoral student with a husband and children AND a learning disability. Tears flow. You reignited a fire in me. Thanks so much.
Katrina
Author
Always❤️🙏🏾Praying for you so hard!! You can and WILL do this!!
Dr. Bazzell, I am so proud of you and happy for you! Your determination is definitely inspiration to me and I’m sure everyone who reads your posts. What I love most is how you are sure to give all glory to God and provide scriptures to back up what you say!
PS your writing is so captivating, I felt every bit of emotion with every word. I loved going from literally crying tears, to smiling, to rejoicing and writing down scriptures that I need to review.
Soooo proud of you and can’t wait to see al that you do! Your DM actually motivated me to pray more and to be positive. I have to send you an update!!
Much love,
Bre C
Author
Thank you SO MUCH, Bre!! Infinitely!! Thank you so much for reading this post. I’m praying for you and I’m so glad this post could be a light❤️❤️❤️
Dr. Anya! Wow thank you so much for sharing your story. Being a first generation born to immigrant parents I have lost hope countless times. Your story made me feel like I am not alone and its possible. Thank you so much!
Author
Please Never lose hope!! God can literally do ANYTHING!! I’m a witness!! I’m so proud of you for hanging on! Praying for you!!❤️❤️❤️
This is so inspirational. I hung on through every word because it like this was/is me! I have had a dream to become a physician since high school (25+ years), but life happened. I had my 3rd of 4 children on the way when I graduated from undergrad, after getting married to my high school sweetheart the summer prior to matriculation. It’s a longer story than I can put here. I am not sure what’s what right now because after reading your story, I feel like I have given up on my dream and passion to settle for plan B. And yes, I am “having a fight with God” at the same time. This! I’m inspired, yet not sure why this inspiring story reflecting me is coming at this time since I have started working on /settling for plan B! Thank you so much for sharing your story! You’ve touched my heart so in many ways. I really appreciate it!
Author
I’m so glad I shared this and I’m glad it could serve as inspiration❤️I understand what you’re going through. Consider really sitting with God to ask about plan b. Seek His face always. I’m praying for you and clarity for your next step. Just know You Can Do Anything!! And God even more than That!!🙌🏾❤️ Praying and rooting for you!!
Taking step 1 after Crazy year. Praying I pass.. Thank you for your testimony. Praying for your success.
Author
Thank you so much!! Praying for you❤️You can do Anything!!
What an amazing journey! You should definitely be proud of yourself. I don’t know you personally, but I can tell that you’re quite resilient. I’m not sure if you’ve matched into residency yet, but here are some things to consider as you move in your next season:
1. Keep Christ on the throne. He is still good and still God regardless of how our circumstances pan out. (Ps 115:3). A few times you mentioned, “I prayed, I believed, I worshipped…” Are you God or is Christ? Christ is not a genie. Ask for His desires to become your desires in your family, career, etc… and rest in the fact that he cares for his children. Just like your parents care for you.
2. Be receptive to counsel. God has not only given us his Word, but also people to advise and guide us. It seems like anyone who offered you advice contrary to what you believed was God’s plan, you became defensive and did things your own way. Listen to those with experience around you. I know sometimes it seems like we have a plan and it must be accomplished our way. But, perhaps this story could have shorter if you listened to God AND the people he instructed to help you through this journey…
3. This life is hard. Residency is harder lol. Give yourself a break, a little measure of grace. You’ve come so far…
Best Wishes,
Leigh
Author
Thank you so much!! When God’s message to me is contrary to what others say, I will always go with God. People may have wisdom, but God is God. Listening to them, my story may have been longer because deceleration and delay of exam are not fail proof. I needed strategy and only by failing the exam over and over did I realize that and finally get connected with a strategist. Again, thank you for your advice, but what God speaks to me will Always prevail❤️
Again, I am so moved and inspired by your story and testimony. Even moreso with the written version than the video on IG.
I take away your journey and apply the lessons to mine. You are and will continue to be a FORCE in medicine and everyday life.
I thank you for being so transparent that it shows those in similar predicaments that we are not alone, God is NEVER not working on our behalf, and that victory will be claimed. I pray immense blessings over the next phase in your career Dr. Bazzell.
Author
Thank you SO MUCH, KaBrea!!! Means SO MUCH to me!!😭🙌🏾❤️
Wow, thank you so much for sharing your story!! I am a second year medical student currently struggling to pass Step 1. I rarely hear stories of people’s trials and only see the success stories. Reading this story means SO much to me especially as a Jesus follower. I most likely have to take a year off due to not passing a CBSE. I really love how you stayed faithful to what God has spoken over your life. I pray that you continue to do so and be used by Him. Wishing you all the best in residency!!
Author
Thank you so much!! I absolutely know what that’s like!! I’m praying for and rooting for you! You CAN AND WILL DO THIS!! In case you are looking for study tips:
https://www.instagram.com/p/CAdLINFhSs5/?igshid=rszoal709prd
And here is the worksheet I reference:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lihFNJ8NLXh1IedcXNwrw74TnNZJX3k0RGFPDfHnBfk/edit
Feel free to email me should you need anything! anya@surgeryandthecity.com I will be keeping you lifted in prayer!
I will definitely be incorporating that worksheet and your study tips into my study strategy. So helpful! Thank you so much for your prayers, study tips, and resources!! ❤️
Author
❤️❤️❤️💪🏾💪🏾💪🏾
I stand in awe of God’s working in your life. I keep interrupting my husband’s nap to tell him parts of this because he is walking the path to medicine and I can see the struggles. Thank you for reminding us of the importance of passion and holding on to what God told us no matter what others say. I wish you many more glorious encounters with God. You are an inspiration and I will definitely buy the book. Please hurry up and write it.
Author
Omg!!!! Thank you SO MUCH, Tracy! So many blessings over you, your husband, and his journey! It’s tough, but so worth it. Thank you forever for your kind words. Means more than you’ll ever know. God has been so very faithful to me. And yes, the book is coming!❤️❤️❤️
OMGee! I stan! I failed maternal in nursing school and almost gave up. I know that I want to end up in medical school and your stories are really motivational. Thank you!!
Author
Thank you so much Kate!! You can do Anything❤️Literally anything❤️So glad you kept going! See you on the other side Doc!💪🏾