New Location

Attention all fans ;-)

I’ve moved my blog from my personal website, shortags.com to Bloodspot (damn autocorrect, it’s Blogspot).

So by now, I’m in Raiderville and out of Aggieland. Or at least partially. If you know anyone looking for a house in Aggieland, I have the perfect house for them: mine! It’s a nice 3/2/2 with a H U G E and spacious backyard. Make a reasonable offer and I might actually accept it. Living away from my family isn’t fun :-(

I’ve been accepted to graduate school at Tech. I start next fall, 2012. For the interim, I’m working at AeroCare as a flight medic.

So let me tell you about this adventure and how I wound up here. It is a God story, beyond no other!

If you told me that I would be living in Raiderville eight months ago, I would have laughed at you and called you a liar! It all began by hearing about a pre-med conference at Tech back in February of this year. I had heard of it though A&M’s Office of Professional School Advising (OPSA). This year was the med school’s 4th annual conference to be hosted April 16. I managed to arrange my schedule off that weekend and dragged my reluctant family up here as a “vacation.” The kids were excited only at the prospect of staying in a hotel and getting out of school for a few days.

Initially, when I entered the halls of the school where the conference was to be held, I felt shy. I mean, I’m nearly 40 years old. How old are most of those attending? 18? 19? 20? I’m old enough to have sired these kids! Once I broke past this idea I immediately felt at home. There were other guys and gals that were older, albeit I was still at the top end of even this group and one of the oldest attending (outside the dads that came with their college-aged kids), that I could perceive. But I found a niche of older students. They even had a session just for folks in my boat.

During a transition time, I walked past a table with a small brochure. The brochure had a picture of a cadaver transection. The title said Pre-Medical Master’s Program. I was stunned. I stopped and asked the lady about the program. She was the program coordinator. As she began describing the program, she described my situation: a student that has a very strong desire to enter medical school, but lacking on some key areas. She explained that older students often apply (that’s me) and those with academically weak backgrounds (that’s me). I took the brochure and went to the next session. As I sat pouring over the brochure, studying it and praying about it, I realized that I had not adequately introduced myself to the lady at the booth. I left the session and introduced myself, explained my situation. She suggested I apply, but to hurry because the deadline was fast approaching in two weeks. I promised that she would have my application by the end of the week. And she did! That began the whirlwind of activities and decisions that had to be made and landed me in Raiderville.

I emailed the lady back, thanking her for discussing the program and requesting more information about the program. I wanted to know the structure of the program, the degree plan, the way it worked, everything! At the same time, I wrote my essay, adapted from my med school application of course, forwarded my letters of recommendation, requested transcripts and test scores. I struggled with the university’s online application system. I wrote emails and corresponded with lots of folks and prayed things would happen quickly, before the deadline. Miraculously, everything arrived on time and before the deadline! This is a miracle when you stop and consider that large institutions like A&M don’t move on anyone else’s timetable but their own.

I was dubious of receiving an invitation for interview. But a few days after I submitted my application, I was offered an interview. It was still a month away. I booked a flight (driving to Raiderville is an 8-hour trek) and requested an early interview to make my connecting flight home. The coordinator graciously agreed, putting me first in the interview block.

Now was the month of waiting. I kept busy by finishing some more of the pre-requisite studies. I also took the time to register for a summer biochemistry class. I discussed the idea with my wife. I researched various options available in the program. I debated with my wife on if this was really a God thing. I made arrangements for a flight with HEMS (that’s helicopter EMS) provider, PHI. I updated my references on my current situation and informed them of the program for which I was offered an interview. I updated the TAMU professional school advisors. And I prayed! I prayed lots!

The day came to interview. I got up early and caught my flight in time. I made it to the school without a problem. I found the room where we met each other. My competition. There were eight or nine of us. One had interviewed a week or so early. One was driving in. And one was to interview via telephone. According to a few of the folks there, they had seats for 30 and this was a formality. Another said that they typically limit the numbers to three or four, but they wanted to expand the program to ten. Who knew, really? Again, I was dubious of being accepted. I socialized, met folks and prayed. When interviews began, it was explained that the interview was to be fifteen minutes. Mine took no less than forty-five. At least, that’s what it felt like!

The interview was none that I’ve ever experienced. I introduced myself with somewhat of a ya’ll see my application; you see my essay; let’s skip the perfunctory parts of “tell me about yourself” and jump in to what I feel is my primary weakness: my GPA. As I began explaining it, there was a shift and the nay-sayer said, we believe you are an intelligent person; we see your test scores. Tell us why, at your age, you are doing this. After all, he explained, I’ll only practice medicine 10-15 years. I felt the Interview spiraling away. I regained the interview and began answering some other questions about time-management and study habits. And again, the nay-sayer yanked the rug out from under me with another question on what am I going to do if I don’t become a physician and have I really talked to anyone about my chances of being accepted to medical school. That hit me below the belt, because I’ve been told by other medical schools that I need to restart my academic career with an “ Academic Fresh Start,” a program that draws a line in the sand, wipes away all your academic history and allows a student to begin again without the negative view of bad performance. I almost cried!

As I left, I began to get a nagging headache. A migraine was setting in. I was beginning to feel ill. I solicited a ride from another of the candidates to the airport. Caught an early flight to D/FW and drafted an email to the director of the program before nearly passing out from head pain. I addressed what I felt were weak areas of my interview, all the while knowing their decision was already made. I emphatically defended my position of my age, by stating that even if the nay-sayer was correct in his assertion of a shortened career length of 10-15 years, that would be 10-15 years that a small rural community will have a physician, that might otherwise go without. I also corrected the idea of my alternate plan to medical school. During the interview, I replied that I might teach academically. The email corrected this benign notion by explaining that I haven't given up so much and come this far to not complete the task. I argued that I will be accepted into a medical program, not suggesting this lightly or conceitedly, but as a matter of determination. My rationale is that if I'm not accepted to this program, then there will be another. And if it isn't this time, it will be the next. I defended the email by saying that in a rushed interview, I am not quick witted enough to answer questions like that off the cuff, especially not topics for which I felt completely unprepared, such as age.

I knew that the interview was not good. I knew that I would be attending Texas A&M School of Rural Public Health. And I was okay with that. I had already been accepted. It was not a direct path to medical school, like this one, but it would work and allow me to continue towards my goal of becoming a physician. I was at peace with either direction. And hopeful, yet dubious of acceptance at Tech. The next day I received the director’s reply. His email was encouraging and added hope. Donna was certain that I would be accepted and nervous of the prospect. In the meantime, my med school application was going out via TMDSAS. Emails were coming in, acknowledging receipt.

Three weeks is a long time when you are being recruited by another program. TAMU SRPH made me feel really welcomed and wanted. I received an invitation to meet with the director of the program or which I was accepted. He encouraged me to attend there instead of Tech. And I was very comfortable staying in Aggieland. But I really knew that if Tech offered me a spot, that’s whereII needed to go. I held off accepting the admission to TAMU SRPH. Finally, I received word from Tech. And the word was that I made it through the initial cut. They were hoping to have final decisions made in another week or two. Again, I was dubious; Donna was certain that I would be accepted. A week later, I learned that I was accepted into the program. I had about five weeks to get moved up there.

Donna didn’t feel comfortable. Our house hadn’t sold. Neither one of us had jobs up there. How were we going to make it work? How were we going to get all of the ducks in a row? She had no peace, only questions and fears. I had a week to give them my answer. Donna’s world was being rocked. I spoke to the program coordinator about a deference. That had never been done before, and the request would have to go to the program director. He was out of the country with limited email access. He would not return before my deadline. I had to make a decision. I requested the deferment. He responded quickly, agreeing with my deferment until next fall.

The school graciously agreed to a one year deferment, something they had not offered to anyone else. Our house was on the market and I began perusing job sites. Donna expressed her desire to stay home with our youngest. We both agreed that in this year of transition, her staying at home would be a struggle and a blessing. We made arrangements and she resigned. At the same time, I began applying for jobs. I applied for several dozen different positions. I landed an interview for an occupational health / urgent care clinic as the operations director. We made a family trip out of it. The interview went well, but it wasn’t quite whatII was looking for. I would certainly have learned a lot and had lots to offer to the organization, but it wasn’t quite a right fit.

I began looking at flight medicine as a flight medic. A pipe dream. I learned of AeroCare, a Med-Trans company. I applied for a dispatch job. No interview. I continued to look and learned of a new base they were opening just southwest of Raiderville. I applied and landed an interview for AeroCare. Again, as I Interviewed, I wasn’t quite sure about the whole thing. The place was nice. The people were nice. The job was a dream. But I wasn’t sure that they would ever hire me. Again, Donna was certain I would be hired. It was a forgone conclusion to her. I was doubtful. Not really sure why.

A few days later, after the interview, I received a job offer. I notified the clinic that I was accepting a job elsewhere that increases my clinical skill set in EMS. I accepted the job at AeroCare and booked a flight for Hannah and Donna to Raiderville in pursuit of living quarters for all of us. Without selling our house in Aggieland, we couldn’t buy in Radierville. We settled on a small, cheap apartment for me.

So I commute the 444 miles between Aggieland and Radierville, hoping beyond hopes for our house to sell soon so that my family can join me in this adventure up here. This is the last domino to fall before starting school in the fall.

All the while, Steve Jobs has passed away and MobileMe, the Apple service which hosts my current blog is joining him. And now you know why I had to move the blog to bloodspot. Ugh! Bloodspot. Blogspot. Auto-correct is nice, but frustrating!