My Personal Medical School Personal Statement.
I was five and a half. The patient: a teddy bear named Terry, who had suffered a catastrophic injury during a routine weekly tea party with my sister. While my sister, the negligent party in this whole affair, sobbed over the carnage, I saw only a challenge. I scrubbed in, which mostly involved wiping my hands on my pants. Armed with my mother’s sewing kit and a plastic toy syringe, I performed a delicate fluffectomy and a complex suture closure. Terry, saved. In that moment, I knew I was destined to wield the surgical knife and be a doctor.
By the age of eight, I had already started my financial planning. While my peers were blowing their allowance on candy and stickers, I was establishing the "Future Medical Education Fund." To kickstart the fund, I ran a lemonade stand that offered a tiered pricing model, which was a local hit (5000% ROI, business acquired by state B-school); I also made sure to offer limeade, demonstrating an early commitment to serving diverse populations and cultural competency. Every birthday card, every tooth fairy dollar, went straight into a piggy bank labeled "For Tuition, Circa 2025." The discipline was grueling, but I understood that a six-figure debt was a small price to pay for the privilege of complaining about a six-figure debt later in life.
It all came naturally to me. In my freshman year, I found a way to run a full PCR in under 20 minutes using only a Zippo lighter and sheer force of will. My non medical volunteering turned medical, where, using only a sterile tongue depressor and a large bottle of Gatorade, I single handedly cured five children of AIDS in a remote Ugandan village while simultaneously mediating negotiations between multiple warring factions. On weekends, I translated passive-aggressive sighs of attending physicians for terrified residents; I wrote an award-winning research paper on the sociological impact of Grey’s Anatomy (Journal impact factor 99.99); I manage time so efficiently that I can hold down three research positions, volunteer in a hospice, and still have time to re-watch every season of Dr. House. An introvert, yet I receive fan mail from AAMC. I have performed several covert peer reviews for top tier journals. I sleep once a week; when I do, I sleep standing up in a corner of my fully NIH funded research lab. The Surgeon General once emailed me and asked my opinion on Cancer. I replied,
"Cuius rei solutionem mirabilem sane detexi. Hanc marginis exiguitas non caperet."
Why medicine? It wasn't a choice; it is my pre-existing condition. As the famous Sir Christopher Walken once spoke of his ailment as "I got a fever", and the only prescription, dear admissions committee, is medical school.
you guys don’t believe me? Here is my first lego set.
