Two days after my second interview, I have come to realize that Pennsylvania is not THAT a terrible place to work in. It is near New York (matters most), Washington, Baltimore and Philadelphia. There's a lot to do in the backyard towns and it will keep me focused on my medicine. More importantly, my friends are here. I have tons of friends to in New York but my friends here go back to ancient history. Gosh, we went to first year college together and been friends since then. That's a whopping 13-year history of friendship. It trumps everything: it matters a lot when you are around people who you know you can depend on.
Anyway, interviewer #1 was pinoy. Boy, I was so glad. We started from standard interview questions, Tell me about yourself, What are you weaknesses and blah blah, but later on, we found ourselves talking about Filipino pop music. He even listed the artists I listen to! He is interested that I know how to cook pinoy (that's slightly BS, really) and computed how much I make in the Philippines (it was waaay below the poverty line). He shook my hand after the interview and told me di bale, gagawan natin ng paraan yan. I hope I made a good impression. I think I did, though.
Interview #2 was also plain great. It was more of an exchange of experiences as a clinician and I think I made myself clear that I have confidence in doing medicine. Moreover, I know what this profession needed me to do. Actually, it was this time that I lay down my rare cases card which hopefully will trump the researches of the Ecuadorian guy and the 99-nothing-could-be-better-scores of my aromatic competitors. (I will not elaborate on the olfactory torture.)
Lastly, I spoke to the PD and complemented her about the curriculum of the program. It was a tad of kissing ass, but I hope it didn't sound like it. For all intents and purposes, I meant it. Yeah, I liked the program. I would love to be their neophyte. She sounds really motherly and very accommodating, which I like.
Things were good, until we met the residents. Most of them are females and estrogen did flowed like water from Niagara Falls. Complaints popped here and there because of having a "bad" call, which I think should not be a topic of conversation since we (the applicants) are still there. As residents, you have nothing to complain about: its part of training. I used to run the NICU, PICU and wards of this hospital for the money and it took me two and a half years to realize its a waste of time. I did not exactly prayed for a bad call but, during those times I did not sleep a wink, I learned 10x more than when I am benign. A toxic call happens to every doctor on duty and its a matter of luck. So, shut the fuck up. OK, say your shit once and that's it.
Some moron guru gave an advice to ask as many questions as possible. So, every time an interviewer would ask do you have any questions?, one should be prepared with a question, regardless of how stupid it can be. Apparently, annoying co-interviewee read the same moronic advice. He was like shooting questions like a contestant from Jeopardy (What is blah?). I almost threw up. And, every time somebody asks do you have any questions?, my guts would move a peristaltic inch. Thats why I cannot eat my freaking lunch! This annoying intern who sat beside me kept on asking me that question. Worse of all, she would shrug her answer and starts asking me do you have any questions over and over. I gave her a NO and ditched moron guru's advice. Screw tact and reason. Can we be like two people in a bar and talk like normal people? They just seem not interested in you until you become their intern (read: slave). I would like to think that I am normal and I would like to think I am within the bounds of normal than most of them. I read, watch TV, listen to music, get drunk, get laid, skip class, wake late, smoke cigs, shop for hair products as a normal person would do. Apparently, they are not interested. I think I've learned my lesson. The next time someone will ask me for a question, I shall be bolder. I will give them one: when is the last time you get laid? If the answer is as often as Meredith or McDreamy, I'll surely beg them to take me in.
Anyway, interviewer #1 was pinoy. Boy, I was so glad. We started from standard interview questions, Tell me about yourself, What are you weaknesses and blah blah, but later on, we found ourselves talking about Filipino pop music. He even listed the artists I listen to! He is interested that I know how to cook pinoy (that's slightly BS, really) and computed how much I make in the Philippines (it was waaay below the poverty line). He shook my hand after the interview and told me di bale, gagawan natin ng paraan yan. I hope I made a good impression. I think I did, though.
Interview #2 was also plain great. It was more of an exchange of experiences as a clinician and I think I made myself clear that I have confidence in doing medicine. Moreover, I know what this profession needed me to do. Actually, it was this time that I lay down my rare cases card which hopefully will trump the researches of the Ecuadorian guy and the 99-nothing-could-be-better-scores of my aromatic competitors. (I will not elaborate on the olfactory torture.)
Lastly, I spoke to the PD and complemented her about the curriculum of the program. It was a tad of kissing ass, but I hope it didn't sound like it. For all intents and purposes, I meant it. Yeah, I liked the program. I would love to be their neophyte. She sounds really motherly and very accommodating, which I like.
Things were good, until we met the residents. Most of them are females and estrogen did flowed like water from Niagara Falls. Complaints popped here and there because of having a "bad" call, which I think should not be a topic of conversation since we (the applicants) are still there. As residents, you have nothing to complain about: its part of training. I used to run the NICU, PICU and wards of this hospital for the money and it took me two and a half years to realize its a waste of time. I did not exactly prayed for a bad call but, during those times I did not sleep a wink, I learned 10x more than when I am benign. A toxic call happens to every doctor on duty and its a matter of luck. So, shut the fuck up. OK, say your shit once and that's it.
Some moron guru gave an advice to ask as many questions as possible. So, every time an interviewer would ask do you have any questions?, one should be prepared with a question, regardless of how stupid it can be. Apparently, annoying co-interviewee read the same moronic advice. He was like shooting questions like a contestant from Jeopardy (What is blah?). I almost threw up. And, every time somebody asks do you have any questions?, my guts would move a peristaltic inch. Thats why I cannot eat my freaking lunch! This annoying intern who sat beside me kept on asking me that question. Worse of all, she would shrug her answer and starts asking me do you have any questions over and over. I gave her a NO and ditched moron guru's advice. Screw tact and reason. Can we be like two people in a bar and talk like normal people? They just seem not interested in you until you become their intern (read: slave). I would like to think that I am normal and I would like to think I am within the bounds of normal than most of them. I read, watch TV, listen to music, get drunk, get laid, skip class, wake late, smoke cigs, shop for hair products as a normal person would do. Apparently, they are not interested. I think I've learned my lesson. The next time someone will ask me for a question, I shall be bolder. I will give them one: when is the last time you get laid? If the answer is as often as Meredith or McDreamy, I'll surely beg them to take me in.
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