Hoops.

Once again, I am in the position of drafting up personal statements. My original took somewhere in the region of 8 – 10 drafts... and the final version was rather different to my first.

Which doesn’t really make sense – surely if a personal statement is about displaying your passion and enthusiasm for a particular subject the core ideas and emotions should stay more or less the same in each draft? Well, apparently not.

My final version was based on a so-called ‘foolproof’ template – containing all of the elements the admissions tutors want to see. The basic formula looks something like this

1.       A powerful emotive opening, jumping straight in with ‘why medicine’. Clearly, you are terrified that the admissions tutor will become bored quickly and so avoid any woolly statements such as ‘I think’, ‘possibly’ and ‘I believe’. Even if you are dubious about committing to such an intense, stressful and potentially frightening career.

I settled for a casual ‘People are remarkable: the way we are so similar, yet all unique’ – doesn’t sound rehearsed at all...

2.       The next 50-70% should detail more specific reasons for an interest in medicine – experiences in clinical environments, particular interests inspired by books/articles/people. In here I mentioned by Extended Project (‘The Psychology of Tribal Medicine’) and in particular my research on pain relief. I also wrote about my experience on work experience at the hospital, working in a dental practice, volunteering at the Prospect Hospice and a brief sentence on the medical courses I have attended. Obviously there’s no point in just listing things as if you think applying for medicine is all about jumping through hoops...  Hmm.

3.       The last quarter should focus on being a ‘well-rounded person’. This is where medical schools expect you to be President of the Student Union, captain of the cricket team, a member of the Royal Ballet School, National Lacrosse Champion, Grade 8 pianist and an artist with previous exhibitions at the Tate. This is also where I usually throw a paddy about ridiculous expectations.

Don’t get me wrong; I try hard. I’m vaguely bright but I’m by no means a genius (not that you have to be for Medicine) but I do put a hell of a lot of time into my revision and college work.  Three days a week I’m looking at a 8am – 5.30pm in college. The other two days I finish at 3.30pm. Monday and Thursday evenings I see my boyfriend. Tuesday’s I’ll work on a poster/quiz/arts and craft project until bedtime. Wednesday’s I volunteer at the hospital and Friday evening I work until 9pm. Then I’m up on a Saturday at 8 until 5pm at work. I relax on a Saturday night. Sundays are spent catching up on tidying up, any last minute homework, updating my article scrapbook and pipecleaner Biology models. So when am I supposed to fit in my marathon training and flute practice?

An example of my biology posters. I think I may have a sequin fetish. (This is translation by the way)

Yes extra-curricular activities are a lovely thing to do. They can develop skills and mental muscles beyond what is stretched at college. But I don’t think they make you a better doctor. Universities would argue they ‘show’ candidates have stress-release mechanisms. Perhaps they do. My stress-release is dancing like a loon on a Saturday night in town, visiting the McDonald’s drive-thru for a McFlurry and watching Glee in bed. I wonder what the admissions tutors would make of that?

I understand that it’s important to have a rest from academic work but to me rigorous extra-curricular activities just seem like, well... work?!  

My ‘well-rounded’ bit comprised of a brief discussion of my job at Homebase where I drew tenuous comparisons between cleaning bathroom suites and preserving life in a clinical setting. I also discussed my role on the Student Union – which is about as extra-curricular as I get, considering I have absolutely no talents at all.

This is what I have spent my executive position of the NCSU doing. I feel a bit embarrassed now.

I’m not bitter at all (well...). Good for you if you are a knowledge-sponge, if you ‘forgot’ to continue with your volunteer placements after you submitted your application and enjoy developing innate talents. Maybe you do have time to do more box-checking (oops, I mean ‘personal development’) but I think it’s more important to have genuine reasons for wanting to be a doctor, whether you can swim the channel or not.