Out of those that receive an interview from Ottawa, about 1/4 are offered an acceptance, and the odds are something around 1/3 for Mac. As a third year applicant, I was not expecting to be invited for an interview anywhere. So soon after McMaster granted me one on Wednesday, January 23, 2013 (lest I forget), a momentary speechlessness and inability to move gripped me, followed by my first set of tears of happiness, ever, and making quite a scene in my Evolutionary Ecology class.
Several days down the road along came an invite from Ottawa, on the same day as a rejection from Queen's U. I didn't care about Queen's, much less Ottawa, but a smugness came about me now that I had two invites and I was expecting an interview from UofT, my home and native school. The frustrating bit about UofT, though, is that unlike any other school, they send out multiple rounds of interview invites and rejections, probably because they receive the greatest number of applications (no preference given to Ontario residents and obviously the most reputable of Ontario). Four waves of invitation emails and four waves of rejection emails were sent out, with about a week or two intervening between the waves. I had to frantically check my inbox through three "false" alarms from others who received an answer, only to be rejected at the last possible moment, in April. UofT Med, being the school of my dreams, for its traditional teaching style and beautiful campus, had effortlessly blown my self-esteem fuse. Granted, I had only a week's time to begin and complete the OMSAS application (last minute decision to apply), for which UofT assigned seven essay sections. Though their rejection was not a surprise (perhaps so to the part of me in denial), it certainly was a sore heartbreak to be turned down by the school to which I devoted so much.
After that, whether I got into medical school after my third year became much less important to me. I have become so comfortable in Toronto and I have absolutely no desire to leave this city and school. Since my visits to Ottawa and Hamilton and the possibility that I may have to leave Toronto had become very real to me, and I saw my city in a new light of appreciation and regret--regret that I hadn't yet tried all of the restaurants on Bloor Street West despite living right on it! I had even considered turning down acceptances from Ottawa or Mac should I get one for another chance at Toronto next year, but a friend threateningly convinced me to be prepared to go to whichever school accepts me. In a sense, I felt like I would be forced to attend a medical school against my will, as silly as that sounds.
That is why I was not nervous or very longing for the fateful day of May 14 (not as much as most applicants, I presume) and I knew either answer would make me both ecstatic and disappointed. However, when the morning came and I sat waiting (in agonizing anticipation, only because my friend decided to text me when he received his emails when I specifically asked him not to, the same threatening friend), I was indeed nervous. Was all of this stress of being a "premed" going to be over? Will my years of exhaustion and toil come to an end?
Shortly after I was informed, despite my request, that McMaster had sent out their emails at the bright and early time of 8:04 AM, I received my rejection email. Because Ottawa was so far from home and cold, Mac was my preferred option. At this time, I experienced quite literally my heart sinking deep into my viscera. However, I did not cry. Perhaps because I still had hope of all of this being an undergrad business being over and it all depended on Ottawa. I waited again, patiently. Patience took me not far, because within five minutes, I was told that Ottawa admissions had pressed "Send". Following this was a very long and devastating wait of a half hour, and I knew what that meant. Just when all my anticipation had discharged, Ottawa, in all their callous formating and addressing me as "OMSAS NO xxxxxxxxxxxx", gave me a real virtual slap in the face: a waitlist. But not just any waitlist, no. This was the collectively dreaded "bad waitlist". What does that mean? Let me illustrate with a quote: "Your name has been placed on a waiting list. However, I must inform you, that, given your rank on this list, you are unlikely to receive an offer" [emphasis in the original].
Now I have accepted the fact that I must remain in Toronto to finish my B.Sc. and I definitely learned not to take my awesome city for granted. I will enjoy Toronto to the fullest during the potentially last year I have left here, first by trying all of the appealing restaurants that I've never tried on Bloor Street West. I did not want to go to Ottawa or Hamilton, but I guess I just wanted to see that I could get in. While I am disappointed I was not as outstandingly competitive as I had hoped to be, I am glad that I at least tried and gave it my best shot. This experience was just a minor bump in the road that has given me the perspective and humility needed to take a deep breath and continue trying.
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